Week 33 : Alleviating anaerobic anxiety

Post 408
12/8  Saturday satisfaction.

It was a quiet commute solo to Saturday's social spin, soaking up the sublime Cosmic carbonaria and a mild (9 degrees) morning.  The Godfather, TatPaul, Softa, TatMat, ScottMatt, Jen, PistolPete, Wozza, Bruce, Shorty, Troy, Kel, AvantiAndy, Boof, Rocket, KillkennyPaul, Jase, Lucy, Temple, Lenny, Bo and Merida-not-AvantiJohn crammed the carpark, ScottMatt and I paying the price of early arrival with the first shift. A moment of mist from above sent a shiver of showers through the bunch but the clouds weren't so threatening through my specs (rose coloured?).  Time off the bike has tamed ScottMatt to make my first 3k cruisy, but it was cruel for the next 1700 meters beside TatMat.   Troy, Boof and Bruce kept the effort elevated for Mitchell Rd and Central Kialla, a blanket of baulk thrown over the bunch as some less swift got to the drivers seat at the River Rd bridge. A social sentence later we were back to work (some set the standard and others follow.....under expectation or perspiration?)

The WNW'er caressed the ego if only to crush it for our return to town, sheltered in the up-line on the push up Boundary Rd hid the horsepower needed to keep tempo at the front.  TatPaul's turn was brief and breathless, TatMat's long and strong as I shared the pairing from the pig pen to Old Dookie Rd.
Several were missing in action (seeking solace in the rear seats) as we skirted the railway ripple strips and up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to work west 12k back to breakfast. I could sense a mushiness in my Michelin as wheels whacked a UFO (Unidentified F#&%'n 'Ole), press on Foss till a rim on road forces a halt.  Predictions of peloton placement were already being calculated for the sprint, promoted further forward as the length of Ford faded.

It was TatMat and I who scored the workload as we entered Wanganui Rd for a blast up to 40 when thankfully the turns rolled quickly.  I'd almost reached the rear by DECA when ushered to rejoin the advancing troops, The Godfather in the lead role of lead-out as many hopefuls were being ejected off the back.  Luck and placement had me catching the draft up the hill for a top 6 finish, several in my tow appreciative.

Breakfast babble (and a sense of secret scrutiny?) aplenty at the Lemontree on Mark Beaumont, wind (the weather type), remembering names, plans for a Tour de Pub, doors that close and the doors that open after, retro bikes and a second order of Couldabeens kits. (I was just up my driveway when the front tube let the last of the air go.......what timing!)

14/8  What light through yonder horizon breaks?
Around the golf course loop and with Monday morning time up my armwarmer, I bit the bait of the road less traveled northeast (into the headwind) to Radio Australia then south on Verney to board the Goat peace train.  Sly's tech tattle drowned my ears as Jen, AvantiAndy, Heady, Tina and AvantiCraig rolled into the roundabout for the 6am off, a mild morning and a northeaster a welcome break from the recent chilly southerlies.  Tina's tuned from a Buffalo-in-the-snow weekend, AvantiAndy's been secret squirrel training, even AvantiCraig has squeezed 4 rides into a fortnight, but Heady's hammered from hibernation. (and there's a whole lot of hurt awaiting the gaggle of Goats still to shake off their doonas)

East to Boundary and south to River, seven took their turns till Heady herniated beyond the pub.  Comfort was on holiday for me today as the Fizik felt fickle (or was it the sit site softening from Sundays slumber?), Sly putting peace to bed for a solid slog along River Rd. My enemy of time turned me along the truck route and Archer toward home, enthused by an earlier sun rise suggesting spring is almost with us.  

15/8        #5 & #9
A glimmer of hope filtered through Tuesday's radar as the abandons pinged on What'sApp in the early hours, Rule #5 and Rule #9 resonated to ride!  The dull damp from earlier showers kissed goodbye to an unblemished Baum, the 5k soggy slog to the carpark would sort the hard from the soft.  As suspected, the grid was empty, only ramping up my resolve to do a lap that others didn't, so I set forth east with a sense of urgency (to outrun the rain?) against a northeaster (13-20 km/h) that took the slack out of the illiopsoas and pectineus.  The orchards, twists and turns of Channel Rd gave some recovery from the wind (the bark in the dark from Darth Vader pushed the h.r. over 170 bpm) so it was bonus reaching Boundary to deal with the breeze only blowing at the portside. With enough light in the sky to see the clouds had little threat, River Rd was almost enjoyable (aside from the rooster tails of water up the nose) as the wind swung ENE, but pace needed rationing without the bonus of a bunch or buddy to draft.  Time too was ticking without a bunch average, so the usual shortcut via the truck route and Archer would get me home back on agenda.  An unseen inch of roadside gravel grabbed the front wheel as a B double passed (spiking the heart rate), back to town feeling like a wet rag (but chuffed), a road hungry half-wit crowded me to the gutter as I rode the empty car parks (for want of a bike lane) home.

16/8   The hardcore four
Doubts were high that few would front the windy (24-46 km/h) Wednesday with roads still saturated from yesterday's soaking (21mm) but PistolPete (convalescing from a cold) escaped his sick bed, Tina and CatCol the only others tough enough to endure the elements.  I didn't mind doing the first shift with a northwest assistance to the Sanctuary roundabout, PistolPete sympathetic to the speed of us humble B graders down to Mitchell Rd where Tina tempo'd us to Central Kialla.  CatCol had a spirited spin up to River Rd, handing me another wind assisted turn to the River Rd bridge.  I wondered if PistolPete would take the helm for the rest of River but he fairly shared the breeze at the back door, handing over to Tina at the kennels.  Pace had pickled CatCol who struggled to keep Tina's tempo, a gap needed filling as Col's tank emptied. I went ahead to loan him a draft, and with Pistol we reformed the quartet just as my turn for torture turned up in Boundary Rd.

Keeping smooth and straight was asking a lot as winds whipped at the wheels, a small comfort came in the shelter of the Broken river trees so I stretched my turn on reaching Channel which almost bent a valve.  Legs went like Gumby's to catch Tina's wheel as Pistol powered possessed into the headwind for home, by the S bend CatCol was in tempo trouble again so I repeated the draft donation to keep the team together (Pistol soon saw the strife and adjusted his pace so we all might survive)  An anger brewed inside as the relentless wind blew at the brow, legs and lungs were unable to match what the will wanted (my contribution from Jameson Rd to the Kinder made harder when I caught sight of 183 bpm).   Pistol again saved the day bearing the brunt to Doyles Rd, all putting in one last stand to finally reach town.

17/8  Thuffering Thursday
Within milliseconds of pulling the pin, h.t.f.u. won the battle in the brain to face a dark, damp and windy Thursday, after all, there was mud, worms and water to soil a sparkling bike and kit!  I'd almost committed to a solitary slog when PistolPete, Rocket, Boof and Bruce rolled in to grid, but Boof had punctured (just for our entertainment?) harnessing the launch.  Repaired and rolling, Rocket took the reigns for leg one, this is doable me thinks till the tempo kept climbing beyond 40 beyond Kensington (oh stop sooking and suck it up Foss! You're amongst allies) Bruce headed the 1400 meter leg 2 as I squashed the sceptics in my skull in preparation to lead leg 3.  The pressure to perform eased with a Garmin glimpse (41 clicks) as I threaded the thin line between the ChaCha puddles, ignoring the heart rate would alleviate anaerobic anxiety.  Reaching the Kinder was the end of my rope, there was just enough jellybeans in the jar to catch Bruce's wheel as Pistol shot off to the cypress trees.

There was a swift stop at Boundary Rd for two untimely trucks, then Bruce bolted to the Broken bridges for my second shift to start.  Maybe the constant consumption of concrete of late has tuned up the old engine, as it was running well enough at One Tree Dam (where Hoges joined in) to push on to reach River (or was the NNW'er giving a false sense of speed security?) Almost to the point of percolation, Hoges saved me calling "puncture" at Disco Steve's.  The pause to pitstop was a holiday for the heart, Hoges' repair was the comic intermission till toil tolled again.  Expertly echeloned across River Rd, the five helped me find a second wind, enthused enough to take on a third shift for the last k of River.  Gasping to grab the draft of the last wheel signed me off any further contributions, it would take several k's before I could perform this pace again.  A feeling of inadequacy faded as other shifts shortened, the wind was wearing away the wattage as our six pack hurtled toward the highway.  Boof called it quits at Galbraiths gate and reserved a seat in the caboose, I was struggling for spare wattage as we swung into Conrod straight with 1200 meters of muscle masochism to go.  Rocket martyred a 500 meter drive to hand Bruce the final 200, but Hoges' appetite for chocolates was stronger (just to finish was reward enough for me).

18/8  Windecent exposure
With more wind than a dozen dim sims, Friday tested those already craving to crank after a wet week.  At least the wind (22 to 41 km/h) had dried the roads!  Wozza, Troy, Bruce, PistolPete, Pelly, Kel, BamBam, Boof and Bo arrived with a grimace for the wind but a grin with ten to share the load.  Happily hurtling south with the breeze at the backside, the hurt (and hernias?) heading home was furthest from our thoughts with Strava trophies to score eastbound.

Hats off to BamBam (rarely riding) and Kel ploughing into the northern leg of Central Kialla 'cause I had the easier effort of River Rd (bridge to the dip) though the speed was taking its toll.  Priming my resolve in Boundary Rd, I paired with Bruce at the Broken bridges but I needed a therapist for the headwind in Channel Rd.  Pelly had disappeared from duty, Troy graciously leveling with me (hope I didn't wear out your brakes mate!) till my legs and lungs could give no more at Sellmans.  Bo then Wozza were promoted to the pain at the S bend, Wozz calling single file at the cypress trees to minimise the damage.  Hanging on in quiet desperation as Bo then Bruce cranked to the Kinder, I'd hoped Bruce was going all the way till his elbow said "no way" at Hopeful corner.  With chin on the headstem and all stops out, I survived a few hundred meters till imploding into a gasping wreck, unable to catch the last wheel till the nine slowed for Orrvale Rd.  PistolPete, Boof and Troy kept up the cruelty back to town, BamBam unhitching in the last 2 k's (but Troy slowed to tow Pinocchio)

Week 33     250 km               YTD 8,261

Week 32 : In preparation for palpitation

Post 407
5/8  Flat, chat, flat chat.

Sodden roads and a vigorous wind brought a wry grin to my morning, there'd be no Saturday specialists today, just the hard core.  Wozza, Rocket, Bruce, Bo, Cate, Kel, PistolPete, Manny, Carl, The Godfather and Boof had cast off their doonas and batlled the WNW'er (24-38 km/h) to congregate for the Saturday spin.  Manny and Carl steered the bunch out of the carpark but had a navigational faux pas choosing Channel Rd, that put me on the front to skip town southbound and, just to keep it consistent, pairing with Wozz to the roundabout.  We'd just crossed the truck route when Rocket hollered a puncture, so it was stop and sledge time while the wind whistled around our nether regions (no pressure Rocket!)  His fix was fast, so we were soon speeding south to Mitchell, but Carls' clicking was concerning.  A pause shed little light on the nuisance noise, so we steamed onward enjoying the wind up the wastgate.  Troy was lurking ahead as Pistol fired the tempo through Central Kialla, the puddles, worms and mud immaterial with the wind whipping us from the portside.  Into River Rd, Carls' click was now a puncture, so stop #3 started the sledging again, a hissing from my front tyre spelling double deflation.

Eagle eyed Kel found the sliver of glass that injected my Michelin, a hurried re-tube and glove fumble later had the dozen back driving east. There was no chat but flat chat with tempo into the forties, big rings and little sprockets de rigeur as we bolted to Boundary.  Noses northbound found Troy remounting after his puncture pitstop (it's all the rage you know!), speed still sizzling over the Broken bridges and past Channel Rd.  (I'd quietly hoped for a short cut to breakfast but calories burned makes breakfast earned)  Positioned betwixt Rocket and Wozz set a swift standard, little left in my tank after a squirt from Fig Farm to Old Dookie Rd.   A few others had withdrawn from the fury at the front as the pace continued unabated on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, The Godfather and even Manny now spent by speed.

Mental memoirs of a few thrashes during the week had made up my mind to console in the caboose, crossing Grahamvale Rd  Bo had discovered that puncture No5 was his, albeit slow. (could it make it to the Lemontree without the hassle of a halt?)  Breakfast begged and all had wearied from the wind, a short cut taken via Verney (to avoid it being brunch), but Bo's deflation caused pit-stop #4 on the fringe of town.  Base camp was more inviting than ever, the mental mindset, rest days and Septembers' battle of the breeze kept tongues tattling between bites of breakfast, Weapon's addition adding a dessert discussion.

8/8  The benefits of concrete for dinner.
Rallying the Tuesday troops with a call to consume concrete seemed to work, Cate, KillkennyPaul, Temple, Softa, Pelly and HBK fronted to a fresh (2 degrees) carpark (better than last weeks mass of 2). Tethered by traffic for a bit, we were finally away, my mandatory sentence of the first shift went ok, so long as I didn't look at the heart rate.  A mystery voice from the caboose called me in after the turn as Temple then HBK took the reigns for leg 2 and 3, Softa (back from a broccoli break) braving the drive to the cypress trees.  Cate then KillkennyPaul steamed east to Darth Vaders' place where Pelly led the charge to Boundary.  Gentle on the accelerator in Boundary Rd to keep the carriages connected (and to stay on everyone's Christmas card list) I aimed for a Broken bridges handover.  The old engine was running ok so I set sights on One Tree Dam instead, "oh to hell with it!, harden up and ride to River" the competitive cranium called. I was a bit second hand reaching River, at least there were others to share the workload home. An almost full moon lit the fog at rest in the paddocks, hats off to all giving their best whether short, long or hanging onto the tail (the mystery man still just a headlight in the caboose) There was lots of kudos being spread about as each expired from duty, my turn again for the 2k southbound leg through Central Kialla.  Back in the tow for Mitchell Rd some were now shortening shifts, the Hares hammered by as we reached Archer but there was no intention (or propulsion) to to jump aboard as a gap opened up at Dave's dip.  There was a brief moment to grab more oxygen waiting for Melbourne Rd commuters, then ripped into Raftery for the final fling.  Pelly drove the train past Galbraiths' gate for my contribution to the Conrod kink, it was refreshing to be recovering at sixth wheel with a k to go and HBK to cook on the front. Pelly jumped nearing the last dip just as I'd risen for the occasion, so it was pleasing to get the chocolates by half a bike over the young fella. (the roll home discovered the mystery man was CatCol on a comeback)

9/8  Sighting the endangered species.

I'd hoped winter had given up the chill but Wednesday needed all those layers again to shield me from 2 degrees.  There was a surprising turn-up at the grid (safety in numbers?) KillkennyPaul, Softa, Kenworth, Mel, Wozza, Kel, Troy, Boof, Cate, Rocket, Pistol, Bo, The Godfather, MeridaDanny, Cat Col, Shorty, Tina, Weapon and Merida-not-AvantiJohn, whats' more the endangered wildlife of BeerMat, BamBam and Nick made a shock showing. Six bells tolled for Wozz to drive the train out of town, almost to Sanctuary's roundabout when Bo pouted a puncture.  There was chirpy chat while the fix dragged on (quicker with Kel as pit-stop crew!), eventually back aboard and running southbound in the hope of making up lost time. The rubber band effect was strong on the long line to River Rd, MeridaDanny (interesting kit) driving up the up-line (& out of his depth) setting off a ripple effect to the caboose.  I mused the encyclopedia of excuses with Cat Col, welcomed back Nick (cringing in the caboose) and suggested Softa's skid-lid seeks size sorting.

The quick chicks (Kel, Tina, Weapon, Cate and Mel) were line astern to brave the Boundary battle at the front, BamBam busting a gasket as he paired with me at the pointy end over the bridges.  The long lines threaded the lefts and rights of Channel Rd back to town, a few now happy to sit out the sprint as we swung into Central Ave.  MeridaDanny scurried for cover into the down line as the pace percolated at the Kinder (another shunting of slow domino'd down the bunch).

I was sitting third wheel in the up-line as Pistol (with Kel glued to his wheel) fired ahead early, so gave it full throttle to catch the draft (but quickly shot by).  Done for with Boof, Troy, Bo and co lurking behind, and with no hope of a placing, I emptied the tank to at least make them earn the chocolates.  The finish line was so near yet so far, swamped by several in the dying meters but some satisfaction to stretch the long line longer.

10/8  Hit me with your rhythm stick.
It felt like I was on another planet Thursday, 8 degrees and a stiff northeaster was out of this world! (after weeks of winters' woes)  Troy, BamBam, Ralphy, Bo, Wozza, Kel, Tina, Liam, Travis, Bruce, PistolPete, Rocket, Boof, KillkennyPaul, Cate, Temple, Lenny and CatCol had assembled for the tempo torment, 'gridphobia' gripping several to cower in the caboose (I subscribe to the Wozza theory ; procrastination is for pussies!  Do a turn early and then relish the draft)  The first turn earned an "ease up" for Wozz and I at the Kensington roundabout, fighting the northeaster (18-27 km/h) had un-hooked a few, only half the bunch were driving, the other half surviving, carving into Channel Rd.  (convincing my cranium to continue doing turns was the biggest battle) There was much relief reaching Boundary Rd to get the breeze behind, though that only spurred the speed to River Rd.  I'd scored a brief draft as the front 9 stacked across River Rd, managing to get my heart rate below 170 inspired another go. This was going to hurt,  but the kudos from Troy numbed my neural niggles, into the rhythm of 400 meters on the front at 42 soon switched my pre-frontal cortex from competition to crucifixion.  Hanging on at second wheel needed wattage I didn't think I had, Bo skipping a couple of places to distance himself from the Troy torture.  By Mitchell Rd I'd resigned from rotations to join the long line of hangers on, many way beyond their comfort zone, but at least they're trying!  The long wait at the the highway for a long line of traffic was some respiratory respite but holding that wheel ahead was an effort when the engines fired on all cylinders to Roubaix.  Fractures appeared as early as Galbraiths gate, I felt it my duty to tow the tormented (as I had nothing to contribute elsewhere) so sat back to pick up the pieces in Conrod straight.  It was a slog of survival to reach the finish line, Ralphy, KillkennyPaul and BamBam questioning why they came and Cat Col's heart rate like a Fukushima geiger counter, but there was pleasure from the pain in survival.

I got lucky (& privileged) to witness Mark Beaumont on his 'Around the world in 80 days' epic as he slogged through town on Thursday, half way around the globe and grinding out 350+ km a day is true grit.  Have a look at his challenge on  <artemisworldcycle.com>

11/8  A Friday floggin'
It's been longer than a PistolPete turn at the front since doing a Friday pain train, so scurried (in preparation for palpitation) to the Verney roundabout for the 5:50 express, finding a mix of gritty Goats (Carl, Manny, Coggo and Tum) and '51's (Eggy, lil'Tony, DocPete, Sherls, Trent and Trudy) assembling.  I took the helm for leg one (refer to the Wozza theory) to Grahamvale Rd then tucked in ahead of Tum (concreted in the caboose) for the real engines to rev eastward,  a WNW'er (13-24 km/h) pacing our progress.  Echeloned across Boundary Rd, I was on the fast yet useless wheel of lil'Tony (no higher than my handlebars), well out of my depth in the forties but Rule #5 suggested I get over it.  Handed the lead for a 400 meter drive to Old  Dookie Rd, two oncoming trucks and their gusts wrecking my reserves.  Back into the draft with Tum as backstop and wondering if recovery would arrive was quashing any cockiness I'd had in recent times (it's a bitter but better tonic to be put back in the box of average as others excel).   By the Broken bridges I'd reconciled to be toast, sit back and be humbled by horsepower as 8 now cranked clockwise to River Rd.  The turns rolled into River Rd and it's heartbreaking headwind, Trudy then Carl bowing out of driving duties while crossing paths with the Couldabeens.  Southbound to Mitchell didn't spare the wattage, a flattened bunny causing a hop under Trent's wheel.  Hammer and tongs into Mitchell I was convincing myself would do good, I'd finally got my heart rate managed but my legs were lodging protests. A slow for the highway traffic then back on the gas to Roubaix, Coggo was now sitting back while the 51's and the Manny machine seemed limitless.  Conrod straight was a sight for sore legs, just a k to hold on till the speed symptoms subsided (see your health care professional if pain persists?).  Several faded as the last dip drew near, crossing the line was reward enough for me, the Strava bonus a 40 km/h average for 32 k's.

Week 32     210 km            YTD 8,011 km        

Week 31 : Purpose to the pain

Post 406
29/7  A split infinitive.

 The social magnet of a team tap and tattle was stronger than the bureau's "feels like 1" on Saturday, Wozza, Boof, Mel, Cate, KillkennyPaul, Tina and Temple the only faces visible as lights filled the carpark darkness, the other cyclusts identity to come with rotations.  Plenty of northeaster (15-26 km/h) propelled the bunch out of town, I thought it timely to get a turn done before the headwind hurt.  My shift at the front finished just in time for Wozz and Rocket to power east on Mitchell Rd, it was tough enough to hang on in their draft at second wheel.  The headwind north through Central Kialla tamed the rush, but we were soon back into the groove turning east into River Rd, finding TatPaul, Kel, Shorty, TatMat, Bo, The Godfather (heard earlier but only just seen), Rocket, Manny, Merida-not-AvantiJohn and that endangered species BeerMat in the rotations, but we'd apparently lost Popgun and Cougar, tortured by tempo.  Chains climbed a few sprockets as the bunch collectively calmed, samaritans Rocket, Wozz and Bo eased back to collect those split.

The pack chat increased now that oxygen wasn't so precious, Nath entered the fold as the accelerator was gradually pressed.  There was a noticeable push into the wind when I'd arrived at the front for duty, stark contrast to the draft from a long bunch.  Out of River Rd and into Boundary, Wozza, Rocket and Bo had rejoined the circulating crew, several attempts to tow the offcast had been unsuccessful.  Carl climbed aboard nearing Channel Rd, the northeaster hammering those on the up-line after a shift of shelter in the down-line, should have rolled clockwise in the circumstances but anti is the Couldabeens constant (and safest, given the varied experience)   The west turn to town was relief from the 26 km/h gusts and a breeze up the bum got the bunch buoyed into the 40's, silencing many (but not silencing Manny!)

Big gaps opened crossing Lemnos North Rd and I felt the hopes of many behind that I'd drag them back up. It was half a k of tough toil to reach the drivers, then to share the front to Grahamvale Rd spent my reserves.  Several k's at a pronto pace had halved the bunch into drivers and survivors, by Ford Rd's end the caboose was crammed. Wozza, KillkennyPaul and I were quickly enlisted to tow others as we avoided the up-line, Wozza driving the lions' share past DECA as the bunch split from the sprinters.

As Wanganui hill drew near, several had been cast off the fast class, moving us up the rankings, the gasps soon subsiding to small talk as the bunch congregated to cruise the Boulevard to breakfast.
All but one joined in the social session of breakfast and babble, the art of staying smooth and straight, the nutritional benefits of smarties cookies and gran fondo preparations occupied conversation, special guest Nev (in shoulder re-co rehab) joining in.


31/7  The puncture train
With time up my armwarmers, a roll around the golf course loop would soak up the minutes before the peace train departure, promising myself a long, slow warm-up lasted a few seconds before the speed standard niggled at the ego.  Tina, Heady, Coggo, Jen, AvantiAndy, Carl and Sly were at the Goat station for a 6am departure, a far cry from the 18 keen to ride 6 months ago.  Sly seems CATarthic returning to two wheels (rueing the 'roo?) but eight got into rotational thing eastward on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  There's calm and comfort in the consistency on Tina's wheel (and I feel less possessed alongside her 400k / week habit), the k's clicking by to Boundary Rd to start the spin south.  AvantiAndy is clutching the thin threads of winters' motivation, Heady was suitably inspired to do a turn, and when most Goats have gone into hibernation, Coggo's consistently cranking.  It was Carl's turn to do the double deflation as we turned into River Rd, forcing me to break ranks and slog solo for home if I was to remain employed.  For variety's sake, I steered north on Doyles Rd back to town, a change of scenery and a smooth wide emergency lane to use made a comfortable crank homeward.

1/8 Tenacious two (and a 'roo)
Hopes faded as Hares invaded the carpark Tuesday morning, it seems Temple, KillkennyPaul, HBK and Softa have turned to marshmallow from the 5:45ers.  So, sole soldiers Cate and I set off with a positive to the pursuit, Hares would inevitably catch us but we'd see just how long we could hold them off.  One degree restricted respiratories and there'd be pace to consider with just two doing turns, a reserve needed if we were to hang onto the Hares in a hurry as they passed.  Still no sign as we turned south into Boundary Rd Cate cranked a solid turn into the southerly (already taxed after a 27k run Sunday), without HBK to go halves, I'd committed to River Rd's length in the drivers seat.  Eagle eyed Cate called "Roo!" at the dip, so we slowed as Skippy bounded north to the paddock, then back into the rhythm to Rivers' end.  The Hares were homing in, just a minute later all reserves went into grabbing the draft as Troy, Pistol, Wozza, Rocket, Hoges, Bo, Kel and Avanti-not-MeridaJohn streaked by.  It was sit down, shut up and hang on as the princes of pace swapped shifts west toward Melbourne Rd, but Cate's Sunday run stung the legs out of Dave's dip.  The Hares hold up for highway traffic allowed us back on the caboose but the rate out of Roubaix for the Raftery rumba uncoupled Cate again.  Playing chaperone was the done thing (my legs concurred anyway) so we polished off the lap watching Hares hurry to the horizon (well, 400 meters ahead).

2/8  Zero tolerance
The time taken and the layers of insulation seems wasted when you open the door, the minus one chill grips you to question why ride through it at speed? I think Kel, The Godfather, Cate, Kenworth, Wozza, MeridaDanny, Boof, Bo, Troy and PistolPete questioned likewise, or do they brave the elements 'cause others do?  I questioned why I took the first shift again as I cranked up to speed on Archer, building to the bridges to be paired at the city limit (surprise, surprise....with Wozz!) when two lines formed.  It was a pleasant surprise to welcome Weapon aboard to join the frozen flock as we sliced through the chill, squinting into the infernal distance for the Sanctuary roundabout where roll-over and relief awaited me.  It takes a k or two for the heart rate to settle down from 170, second then third wheel easing the effort to become gradually social and utter more than three words without gasping.

Wordsmithing was the spoken subject with Weapon as I got to the rear, the engines ahead puffing through the light fog as MeridaDanny (interesting winter knicks) worked his way forward.  The Godfather co-captained his turn in the hot seat, but left him to cook a little too long. How rapidly the energy evaporates and the ego ebbs facing the front in your peloton apprenticeship.  (Ponder your past, there's purpose to pain)   So I contemplated that philosophy as I was promoted to the pointy end with the wizard of wattage (Wozza), but he's always the kind collaborator.  A pink tint to the horizon beautified Boundary Rd, Goats now the endangered species (conspicuous by their absence).  Darth Vader barked through the darkness in Channel Rd (too chilled to chase?), as I advanced through the ranks it appeared I'd be captain at the Kinder, but a few short shifted to put Wozz and Troy in the lead-out for the ChaCha.

4/8  The Friday Phew

Spooked by Thursday's radar (of rain that never came) I was keen as mustard to tap a Friday lap whatever the weather.  Troy, Boof, Bruce and PistolPete rolled in to grid, great! a group of Gallardo's and here's me, the Getz!  Second wheel to Boof out of town (plenty of cakes and pies would make him the dream draft) got up to pace, but winter's wet cursed his Continental with a puncture and pit-stop just shy of the roundabout.  A fast fix (despite the fickle fit) had us underway again, I was happy to take the reigns (easy on the uptake for Boof's benefit) but the real reason was to preserve the reserves. Bruce played captain to Mitchell Rd where Pistol fired to Central Kialla, I thought there'd be a repeat of his locked elbow syndrome, but Troy tore into the northbound leg to River Rd, unperturbed by the breeze (WNW at 13-20 km/h)   Even at third wheel the tempo was testing me, but the winds' push up the posterior in River Rd gave me the giddy-up to tackle the bridge to the dip.  Thanks to the quick company, I scored a PB (8:41) for River Rd's 6k, but then it was battle in Boundary Rd as the wind whipped at our push north.  Troy powered to One Tree Dam and Boof captained to the bridges, bless those who planted the trees up to Channel Rd, the shelter keeping my turn up to specification without scrubbing off too much speed.  I had a big dig to the depths to catch Boof's wheel as Bruce steamed into Channel Rd, keeping up with these Hares is food for the soul, puddle sprayed and spotted, and having a filthy bike (yet again) now somehow seemed insignificant. It looked like I'd have the short straw of the ChaCha as Boof drove the train into Kinder corner, his elbow beckoned me ahead at Prentice Rd just as Bruce and his competitive cravings bolted by, sparing me the suffering.

Week 31            210 km              YTD  7,801 km        

Week 30 : Learnin' the legs

Post 405

22/7  Couldabeens kit on a cool catwalk
It was new Couldabeens kit day Saturday, the first official outing of version #3 for the bunch birthday of 10 years.  Minus 2 would test the resolve of riding so it was surprising to find 18 willing (or should that just be able?) to crank in the cold.  The Godfather, Wozza, Boof, Mel, AvantiAndy, Jase, Jen, Tina, TatMat, TatPaul, BassoDan, Bo, PistolPete, Cate, Rocket, Kel, KillkennyPaul, and Bruce corralled in the carpark, most in the new livery but some optioned warmer layers.  A few suggested a shorter circuit out Channel Rd but Rule #5 and majority rules voted for the (9k) longer lap 'round Archer, Mitchell and River Rd.  The usual chirpiness was choked by the chill for some, but a solid start got blood circulating, muscles warmed and endorphines flowing just a few minutes south of town.  It's been some time since seeing TatMat, BassoDan and Jase ( winter whiskers a complimetary cover), catching chattering chat with a few as  I descended the down line to join the up line in River Rd.  There was a slight ease of effort as Mel made the drivers seat but at least she had a go at the arctic end (found the front fairly faarctic myself with Wozz up to Boundary Rd.)

A solo Nath was rounded up at the Broken bridges, the various versions of the new kit (blue on black, vertical stripe, black on blue, horizontal stripe) making each uniform unique yet unified.  Pace percolated on the drive to the highway, the culprits too far ahead to identify though the rate had relaced to mid 30's by the fig farm.  Mel braved the rushin' front again in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, 1200 meters with Wozz on the front fried me, kudos from Bruce helping my mental recovery but did nothing for my labored lungs.  I'd made it half way up the up line again when the whack came in Wanganui Rd, Boof, Rocket, Wozz, The Godfather, TatMat etc well into the mid forties at DECA's gate, opening up a grand canyon to the rest, and here's me without the wattage to band-aid the hole.  (At least I felt useful playing tow truck for the rear ranks in ruin)

A trophy of thanks from Tina and the gallant gals as we regrouped in Rudd Rd and a spirited slog along the Boulevard buoyed by thoughts of thawing under the Lemontree's heaters, internally heating on long blacks, cappacino's, porridge, banana bread, eggs & bacon, toast & vegemite, chilli's etc (anyone would think we hadn't eaten all week!)  Plenty of discussion on diets (for some struggling to squeeze into the new kit) rounded off a cool but cordial ride.

23/7  Century Sunday
Regular rides of 30 and 40 k's over recent weeks prompted learnin' the legs to longer laps, so Sunday I set forth in the wee hours craving a contrary course.  Westward across the Causeway then northwest on Echuca Rd with the distant (33k's) target the Murray Valley highway. 450 lumens carved through the darkness, the ever changing road surface either glorious or gruelling on the gluteus maximus.  With not a car to contend with (just a pot-hole or bitumen boil to navigate) I got into a relaxed rhythm at 78 rpm, dwelling on Rule #6.  The k's clicked away through the sprawling suburbs of Undera and St. Germains, arriving at the Murray Valley highway on the stroke of 7.  There was no traffic report needed for Wyuna, a 3 k crank west to swing south on John Allen Rd, refreshing to cover new ground with sights, sounds an smells other than the Toaster loop, through the metropolis of Taripta (an intersection) and on to Kyabram.

Headed east toward Lancaster turned up the toil with a northeaster at the nose, I was just about sick of it when the turn south offered relief.  Past the grand olde 1893 "Karlsruhe", a burst off the saddle to outgun a hungry dog, through the Merrigum township and on to Byrneside, mentally bracing for the breeze that would attack on the Midland highway.  The temptation to slog straight for home was strong, but Rule #5 (and the craving for a century) diverted me to Tat.  There was a tough haul along Ferguson Rd eastbound, lowering my expectations of speed seemed soft, but it was a means of survival.  The few outcrops of trees offered some shelter, speed climbing back up to the original expectations soothed the soul.   Luck had me win a second wind for the Murchison-Mooroopna Rd, the wind now NNE couldn't stop the crank back to town, a promised long black & avacado on toast was my trophy for the ton back at base camp.  A chance to wag chins with Steevo, Weapon, KillkennyPaul and Temple  (all turning up at the Lemontree by chance) was the social sweetener after a solitary slog.

24/7 A double deflation

Tina, Carl, Coggo, Sandy, Hommy, Jen and Sly defied the fog for Monday's Goat train of peace, the tame tap would be tonic for my grumbling legs.  Mr.Magnet, Mrs,.Eggy and Cougar avoided association with an early hasta la vista, Goats set sail at 6 but just 200 meters were rolled before Coggo copped a double deflation, puncturing both front and rear (attention seeker!).  A pitstop natter with Tina (off the back of a Rapha 100) before we set sail on take #2, the long drive beside Carl grinding my gastrochnemius to remind me of yesterday.  All were fog soggy (seems we were carrying an extra kilo of H2O) with the quiet chorus of wheels as background music, Coggo, Sly, Jen, Hommy and Tina rolling the turns to Boundary Rd then south to the fig farm, my second slog with Carl now not so murderous on the muscles.  The time in pit-stop previously turned me even earlier for home, pushing west through Channel Rd's fog (with a burst of speed expecting Darth Vader lurking in the mist) sent a souvenir sting of Sunday through the thighs, but I contemplated the 3 remedies for pain in Rule #20.  Pushing on, threading the line through the ChaCha puddles, time ticked away to be back home with a minute to spare.  

25/7  By a Hare's breadth
Overnight damp caused a conundrum, but the drawcard of the Tuesday thrash over-rode the want to preserve a clean bike (it had stayed spick & span just two days).  It's a bit disappointing to have just a handful keen on Tuesday's, HBK, Cate and KillkennyPaul the only starters for the 5:45 launch.  My usual task of first turn wound up gradually to Kensington Gardens, shadows thrown forward said all were aboard as I guessed the pace to Doyles Rd.  HBK's go in the drivers seat was a little more sedate (woops, I'd overestimated the tempo), at least I could begin to get the heart rate down in readiness for my next shift.  Cate and KillkennyPaul continue to improve in speed and smoothness, won't we all reap the rewards when the soft eventually emerge from their warm hibernation!  I scored the shift from the cypress trees to the S bend with a little ENE to push into, HBK seemingly slower to get us to Boundary Rd.  A bike ahead was a target for Cate's drive to the bridges in Boundary Rd, Nath the surprise soloist joining our ranks where KillkennyPaul drove determined to River Rd.  The habit of HBK and I to go halves of River Rd continued, a light tail wind helping my push to the dip (collecting Pelly as a caboose) where HBK took over to River's end.  Nath turned up the torture with a strong slog to Mitchell Rd, Cate then KillkennyPaul our tow to Archer, handing me the job to reach Melbourne Rd (you bewdy! a clear cross raised hopes of holding off the Hares).   HBK gave his last performance to Roubaix corner  ("cooked" he said, retreating to the caboose), I was handed the helm at Arcadia Downs , pumped and positive to reach the 700 mark of Conrod with Nath as my backstop.   Hares were homing in hurriedly as Nath drove to the 250 mark, Cate poured on the pace, KillkennyPaul pounced as I emptied the tank to pass him for the chocolates.  My second gasp for recovery air suddenly had Wozza draw alongside equally speechless, we'd won by a Hare's breadth.

26/7  A cretin's close call

A dry road and a mild 7 degrees drew a dozen out for Wednesday, Boof, Wozza, PistolPete, The Godfather, Kel, Bo, Cate, Shorty, Car+Mel, Rocket, Troy and guest MeridaDanny assembling for a social spin.  I had no hesitation pairing with Wozz for the leg to Sanctuary roundabout (maybe Sunday's distance has been a tempo tune-up?) but was wearing a bit thin keeping up with PistolPete to the truck route.  An elephant stamp for Car advancing to the front (despite a lengthy layoff) with Kel, Mel & Cate to make a quality quadrella.  New to the bunch MeridaDanny's (interesting knicks) body language spoke 'spent', but he put in a long shift on River Rd.  I had head down and tempo up in Boundary as Wozz wound up the speed  into the WNW'er, but we were soon handbraked to prevent the pack splintering. Sheltered in Channel Rd, the speed grew again, I'd almost reached the rear as we approached the Kinder, in time to assist Car+Mel stay in touch for the ChaCha while Rocket went to the aid of MeridaDanny, losing grip with the rear.

The regroup rolled the last leg of Channel Rd homeward, and approaching the blind corner into town, we were suddenly overtaken by a cretin in a car (either impatient or insane or a blend of both), forcing an oncoming car off the road.  Thanks to the unflinching panache of Pistol & Boof, an accident averted, Troy, Rocket and Wozz dispensing due advice to the driver waiting at the next intersection.

27/7 Only the zany in zero
Winter wreaked revenge with zero for Thursday, only the zany converging on the carpark (Wozza, Cate, Bruce, PistolPete, Rocket, Merida-not-AvantiJohn and KillkennyPaul) with a Pinarello person arriving unannounced (read & respect Rule #9)  Fearless Foss was on the front first (I can cope with the Hare's shorter shifts), ever so greatful though to Wozza and Bruce driving to Doyles while I resuscitated in their draft.  KillkennyPaul and Cate (gutsy gal in short knicks) tended the tailend while the engines drove to Hanlon Rd, my turn sandwiched between Wozza and Pistol (this is becoming a habit) made it to Darth Vader's (thankfully at rest) to again dive for a draft.  I argued with myself to push the energy envelope and do another turn (no gain without pain), a short shift with the ever obliging Wozza in River Rd as we welcomed Kel and Bo to the fold.  Rocket, Pistol and Wozza make it look effortless while most of us were breathless, maybe I'd have one last dip to satisfy the sadist in me?   The short blast in Central Kialla all but finished Foss, slipping quickly into the gatekeeper role to smooth the speed for the tailenders as the rapid ones rolled.  Rocket lit the afterburners in Conrod straight to lend a lead-out (but split the bunch), I found myself on the front of the spent as the sprinters drew into the distance.  Fading fast with 150 left, Wozza saved the day donating a draft, mutual praise on the remainder of Raftery that we'd survived 30k at 37.6 in zero.

28/7  What's that hissing noise?...oh, it's my front tube!
Yet another murky morning, dismally dark, soaked streets and a wintery wind....all the ingredients to h.t.f.u. and ride!  PistolPete, Boof, Cate and Pelly thought likewise meeting at the carpark Friday morning, a feint hissing sound perplexing (a possible puncture?), but thumbs guaged the tyre pressures and gave the thumbs up to launch at 6.  I drew the short straw of the first shift (2800 meters) starting strong but sunk to struggling by the Sanctuary roundabout. 'Twas a mushy Michelin (explained the strain) that caused me to pit-stop,  a quick fix, then up and away southward into the mire.

Pistol, rare and resplendent in Couldabeens
ensemble.  Note custom co-ordinated socks

PistolPete piloted the Indian file in Mitchell and along Central Kialla ('cause he can) for Cate to start the River Rd leg with the rare treat of a breeze at the backside.  Boof had the case of the frozen elbow today, a long leg from River's dip to Boundary's One Tree Dam.  Pistol (a rare sight clothed in Couldabeens kit) carried us to Channel Rd and, of course, continued west to the S bend, Pelly braved a turn at the front to Beckham Rd where it was my turn to be harassed by the headwind.  Wrung out like a wet sock by Jamieson Rd, I handed the lead to Boof to drag us to the Kinder where Pistol upped the ante for the ChaCha.  Don't you just love that winter welcome of puddle spray up the nose as you hang onto the draft of survival, bike, shoes, specs and kit spotted with worms and mud.  And some chose to doze under doonas instead!

Week 30      340 km.                 YTD 7,591 km

Week 29 : The tempo tonic

Post 404
15/7 Crickets and cruisin'

Winters' bone chilling woes were cast aside (yet again) for the Saturday spin of sociology, Kel, AvantiAndy, Bo, TatPaul, Jen, KillkennyPaul, Mel, Shorty, Cate, HBK, Tina, PistolPete, Rocket, Temple, Wozza, Softa, Cougar, The Godfather and Boof arriving layered against the minus 1 for a 6am anchors away.  Hearing the crickets over our chattering teeth, Cougar captained the crew calmly south on Archer Rd, two rows slowly formed to cruise toward Mitchell, gingerly winding up wattage.  Usual pace had been resumed as I'd arrived at the front beside Wozza, driving the 2200 meters through the chill, "invigorating" to say the least.  Turning north through Central Kialla needed new resolve to pair with the Godfather, the draft to come in River Rd (another 1700 meters away) the prize to push for.  Bo and The Godfather headed the eastbound effort to the bridge, but HBK delivered the news of a Cougar carriage uncoupling.  Rocket and Wozz retrieved while the peloton perambulated, a calm k spent taking the tempo carefully up to speed again.

The optomist in me could see longer days in a hint of horizon light, chatty conversations (and some spent in silence) bouncing from left to right as the pairings changed with the rotations. Wheels whacked through an unsighted pot-hole north of the rail line, bearing west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd a hot breakfast was distracting thoughts of the freshness at the front.  I rolled across from TatPauls' brief belt at the pointy end, on top of the 14 cog and with Cosmics on song, I was well into the groove till The Godfather hauled me back (may have saved further knives in the back?)

Some were soul-searching their peloton placing as the waltz in Wanganui drew near, over Numurkah Rd the pot was brought to the boil.  Turns turned shorter and faster till Rocket got into the drivers seat when, surprise surprise, the squad slimmed to single file behind him.  One by one the pooped popped off the back, finding myself advancing up on Wozza's wheel as Boof hit the boost. Getting around The Godfather as he faded on the hill, 3rd place (with vacant real estate behind) was fruitful for Foss.   There was a post sprint workout to the Lemontree gathering up the bunch remains in Rudd Rd and bolting along the Boulevard, but a hot breakfast with the hyperbole on the bliss of bacon, being fobbed and upcoming events made the morning.

17/7
A misty Monday and a threatening radar cancelled my plans (as it did to others) for a lap to start the week, but the clouds dispersed to keep the track dry, fuelling Foss frustration.

18/7  Poor bloke's spoke broke
Sodden streets couldn't cancel plans for Tuesday's toil, cravings for k's crucifying a clean bike.  The usual protagonists (Cate, Temple, HBK and Killkenny Paul) cranked into the carpark, BamBam a new and welcomed addition to share the load, scoring an instant elephant stamp for taking the first shift.  Leg 2 suited me but there was a slow on leg 3 for BamBam's phantom puncture.  Finding the sweet spot in the draft with a northerly across our flanks was a little hit and miss, but I was impressed with the smoothness of Temple and Cate on the mission to reach Boundary Rd.  Turning south, a pop from Temple's Cosmic was a spoke letting go, a few meters later the bang from an exploding sidewall sidelined us.  With Hares hammering by, Temple called for roadside assist (a plea for a partner pick-up), the remaining four ushered to continue the course.  BamBam did the bolt on Boundary for my shift to start in River Rd,  I'd fallen into the "crucifixion for kudos" mode again when my original handover goal extended from the kennels up to the dip, feeling fit but ignoring the heart rate (now corrected with a new chest strap) at 180.  Off the Fizik to catch BamBam's draft nearly failed as muscles went to mush, but happily snuck into the slipstream as HBK finished off River Rd (hoping recovery would arrive before my next turn did).  Thanks to good turns by Killkenny Paul, Cate and BamBam I had some contribution left as I got the job from Archer to Melbourne Rd, this was going to be another Conrod deja vu.  The headwind erased any idea of a sprint to finish, and sure enough HBK's pounce for glory came at the 250 meter mark.  A cruise commending crew contributions through town was reward enough for me, great distraction from the mud and worms covering the bike.

19/7 Fearless five
With the climate consistently crap, what's to do?  Just ride (ffs)!  At 5:57 there was only Cate and I at the car park, so Boof, Kenworth and Pistol Pete turning up with just two minutes to roll was warmly welcomed, if only to give credence to our craziness.  A wintery westerly (13-26 km/h) blew across Archer Rd for me to drive the first leg (dwindling numbers meant Indian file), a bit left in the reserve tank to catch Boof''s boost in leg 2.  Cate tore into leg 3, PistolPete piloting us to Mitchell then gobbled up the long leg to Central Kialla for desert.   Kenworth captained the crank up to River Rd for me to drive to the bridge and hand it to Boof , wondering if PistolPete would again put in a turn of Ben Hur proportions (as it happened, just a "short" 2k effort to Boundary Rd).  The Kenworth torque was tested bearing north (a g'day to Carl and Sly the sole sloggers clockwise), his elbow handing me the lead short of One Tree Dam. Channel Rd seemed an eternity away and with wind whipping at the wheels, trying to hold a straight line distracted my distress. I felt guilty handing Boof the headwind duty in Channel Rd (but it's a great engine for the task), Kenworth appointing himself the lantern rouge.  It seemed Pistol was in for the big slog home going all the way to the Kinder, but threw the elbow at me for the ChaCha.  I'd poured all the resources into the 1500 meter leg with 20 k's of headwind as a handbrake, the final 100 spent headaling when the legs would give no more.  The slow for Orrvale Rd found Kenworth & Cate off the back with Pistol as chaperone, Boof and I had no complaint to slow and gather up the crew to tap back to town.

20/7 Hare tonic
A dry road created comfort and confidence (a clean bike for the third time in a week might just stay clean!) though  there was a dreg of doubt if I'd hang onto the Hares in a hurry, this was "thrash Thursday".  The arrival of Troy, Wozza, Rocket, Bruce, PistolPete, Merida-not-AvantiJohn, Kel, BamBam, Bo, KillkennyPaul, HBK, Cate and Temple meant there'd be safety in numbers, last week's history repeating with Bruce and I up first.  To the Kensington roundabout was enough for my appetiser, tucked into the draft as Bruce, Wozz, Troy, Rocket, BamBam and Merida-not-AvantiJohn rolled the turns past the school, the Kinder and the cypress trees.  PistolPete paired with me at the S bend to finish off Channel Rd, fair thee well oh favored breeze up the bum, time for toil as the westerly blew at the brow for Boundary and beyond.  After that push, I'd be more a hinderance than help at the front, so sat in general admission with KillkennyPaul, Cate, HBK, Temple and Kel.  The attack on the headwind in River Rd spat Temple out the back, HBK going back to assist for his "ride of reality" home.  BamBam then Bo retired from rolling with the rapid, the caboose now longer than the engines,  Troy, Rocket, Wozza, Pistol, Bruce and Merida-not-AvantiJohn towing the tourists.  Heart rate and cadence running at the red line eventually gets easier at a smooth speed, I was telling myself it'll be a tempo tonic for the next time I'm tasked with torment.  With Kialla Central covered and Mitchell half measured, Merida-not-AvantiJohn called it quits at the effort end.  Indian file was called at Galbraiths gate, the speed now sacrificial in Conrod as Rocket and even Troy emptied their tanks, Wozza, Pistol and Bruce in the position to pounce for podium placement.

21/7  Bit brisk
Even the tough nuts are starting to crack when the forecast starts with minus, Rocket, Troy, Wozza and others now in the land of the soft for Friday.  Delayed by brake bother, I'd barely made the carpark as Kenworth, Bruce, Boof and PistolPete departed, thanks to a Cate call and some PistolPete assistance (a moment of wrestling with his allen key) we were away on yet another single filed slice southward, collecting (long-time-no-see) Weapon at Kialla lakes.

Bruce and Boof provided the opening rounds, I felt particularly primed despite the 2k drive at the front to the truck route.  Indian file is rather anti-social but at least has the freedom of seeting your own speed and distance, but maybe there's a mental mantle of expectation from those in the tow? Pistol again put in a titan of a turn (4800 meters) at the front but had tamed the tempo to just below bursting point, thankfully there was no similar expectation of others.  Compliments from the crew certainly helps the cyclosis as each peeled off the front to go into rear rehab, Boof handed me the helm at River Rd's dip but now primed turned to pickled carving through the arctic atmosphere to reach the kennels. The southbound Goat train was short (only 3 prepared for pain) as we pointed north to Channel Rd, Pistol's turns towing us seemingly endless.  Back west along Channel Rd, I had a carbon copy of Wednesday getting the drivers seat for the ChaCha, the sprint was off the agenda (did anyone have the will ?) and finishing with the group intact was a fitting end to the week.

Week 29       206km                 YTD  7,251 km                  

Week 28 : Setting sphincters a quiver

Post 404
8/7  Winters' watershed?

A dry road, celcius in the positive, rain off the radar till 9 and a social Saturday were all the hallmarks to breed a big bunch, and sure enough, plenty of punters piled into the Archer Rd carpark for the 6am launch. (Wozz, Mel, Cate, The Godfather, TatPaul, TatMat, Kel, PistolPete, Bo, Tina, Jen, AvantiAndy, Shorty, AvantiTrev, ScottMatt, Popgun, Cougar, Rocket, Boof, KillkennyPaul, Temple, HBK and Avanti-not-MeridaJohn).   ScottMatt carefully and calmly headed the long line down Archer Rd, but Kel called for calm just a k south of town 'cause Cougar had uncoupled from the caboose.  There was chat instead of flat-chat to the Sanctuary roundabout on a casual cruise of congregation, then a gentle application of the accelerator to Mitchell Rd.  Gradually relegated to the rear, I found the rubber band effect strong (sitting on the see-saw of the Saturday specialist), or am I spoiled by the smoothness of small bunches of consistent crankers?

A wee whisp of a northeaster blew at the brow in River Rd as I attempted a headcount, there'd be work to do at the front if I ever got there! The weather was almost the sole subject to bounce from left to right lines as I was promoted forward on our mission north, finally slicing virgin atmosphere at the fig farm, I got the call over from Cate at Old Dookie Rd.   Popgun dawdled to pair up, but the huff and puff told the real story, he called for slow but bunch momentum was paramount to avoid 23 bikes up the bum.   Popguns' attempts to roll across overshot to rallycross the grassed edge (setting several sphincters a quiver), the bunch overtaking to delegate him to the caboose. (if you can't stand the heat............)

Rhythm restored, we reached New Dookie Rd, headlights flickering through it's trees forcing a halt.  Threading the smooth thin line aside the railway ripple strips and up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the bunch steered west back to town, pedalling pronto with the northeaster now boosting our egos.  For those with breath to spare, a chat barely got going before rotations disconnected them, a long wait to pair up again....... now what were we talking about?  Several had chosen the back of the bunch as prime real estate for Wanganui Rd, voting me forward on the up line on TatMat's wheel of smoothness.  Well into the forties past the transfer station the turns rolled quickly till Rocket was given the long lead-out role, all lined up behind unable or unwilling to to take on the train driver job with the hill still distant.  Boof finally bolted at base camp (Kittles Rd, named after Marcel?), Wozza and Pistol auspicious in pursuit, I'd accepted 4th place as more than generous in the current company, the next k spent composing myself from a gasping wreck.   Big climbs, spooked kids and minority dictatorship captured conversation on the long Lemontree table, breakfast and banter an entertaining and enjoyable epilogue.

10/7  Mon ami Monday

Right down the throat of the roundabout and about to turn right, when a halfwit in a hurrying Hyundai bolts by then suddenly swerves left.....a great start to the week dealing with the truely gifted!  So, around the golf course I go to add a few k's (and calm the cardiac convulsions) before partaking in the peace train with Goats, rabbits darting about in the dark as aimless as Wobbly Trev.   Tina, Coggo, Principal Skinner, Sandy, Coggo, Heady, Hommy, Cate and Carl turned up, even '51 fellows Cobbles and Sherls braving the bike outdoors for a change.   Along the tarmac of Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, Heady is back from an intensive HG training camp (gastronomy and guzzling), Principal Skinner back from gapping Halls on holiday, Coggo back from Phuket philanthropy and Carl back from a podium on Harry's handicap.

 Principal Skinner managed a solitary turn at the front before keeping Sandy company in the caboose, but there was no speed stress (and so said my silly h.r. monitor at 105 bpm) which starts the week well, east to Boundary and south to River rolling turns on a whim.  We were given a lunar lure on River Rd as the pace perked up from peace, a clear sky, the big bright moon and a little low fog made winter a little more bearable.  The tyranny of time (as always) cut the association short at River Rd's end to head for home, a little earlier light on the horizon suggesting spring might not be so far away.

11/7  Tempo Tuesday
3 degrees, no wind, clear skies and just patchy fog on the circuit made a good Tuesday recipe, HBK, KillkennyPaul, Cate and AvantiTrev arriving at the car park for duty.  You'd think I'd have learned by now not to turn up early and inherit the first shift.....no sympathy for self inflicted wounds!  2300 meters to open the account put me in instant deficit, but there was a chance to regain respiration while Cate, HBK, AvantiTrev and KillkennyPaul did their thing.  There was a bit of velocity variation during and between the turns, it's quite the skill to smooth the speed for your own (and others) benefit.  The last bit of Channel Rd in the drivers seat (with a keen eye out for Darth Vader) went well, happy with my speed (though maybe AvantiTrev wasn't).  Cate and HBK put in a polished performance to River Rd, though AvantiTrev's pace positively perambulated in River Rd from the prior push.  KillkennyPaul settled swiftly into a smooth rhythm, the student mastering his speed like a scholar.  I was handed the helm at the dip (the bridge looked a lifetime ahead) so the focus shifted to the 5 meters ahead (instead to avoid the defeat of a goal to far).  Reaching the bridge felt a bit easier, so tally-ho old chap to Rivers' end, pleased to keep the speed fairly constant and the (incorrect) heart rate manageable (what I don't know won't hurt)   My legs had turned a bit jelly reaching Central Kialla Rd, happy to handover to Cate for her commendable crank to Mitchell Rd.  AvantiTrev's headlight had conveniently gone to lunch so he was relegated to the rear, HBK driving to Archer then KillkennyPaul to the highway as the Hares homed in.    I set my goal to Galbraiths gate though the velocity was in vein, Rocket, Troy, Wozza, Bo and Pistol passing as we steered to Arcadia Downs. Nobody had the wattage left to jump on the Hares tail, so the team consolidated for Conrod, I took to the front again at the 500 mark, HBK's urge irresistable challenging the finish for a dead heat.

Meanwhile in Florida, Amanda Coker breaks the world record (set by Tommy Goodwin in 1940) by covering 100,000 miles (160,934 km) in 423 days.  (That's 380 km/day for 14 months!)



12/7 Winterceding Wednesday

Opening the door to minus 1 certainly takes your breath away, the first k or so spent balancing faster blood flow vs the wind chill factor.  I was somewhat surprised to find 15 amassed at the carpark in these conditions (Kelly, CatCol, Kenworth, Ralphy, Boof, PistolPete, Shorty, Wozza, Merida-not-AvantiJohn, Weapon, AvantiTrev, Troy, Cate, Bo and KillkennyPaul), berthing at the back of the bunch was my rare treat.  Single file soon turned to two lines out of town, taking to the advance line I'd again scored the wheel of PistolPete (pleasant in the tow, painful to pair).  It was welcome back to Kenworth (just returned from New Caledonia) and Weapon (just returned from the Territory) adjusting to the clash of the climates.

I made my way forward to partner with Pistol for part 2 of Central Kialla (not so bad after all), the rapid rolls in River Rd by half a dozen put those stronger (and driving longer) back in the engine room.  Boundary Rd arrived quickly, cranking north with (nearly) daybreak noticeably earlier, I'd again reached the front beside PistolPete for the charge into Channel (was he edging forward to bait or break me?), now nudging the forties tested me to the S bend.  AvantiTrev calmed the rush as he took to the pointy end nearing Hanlon Rd, but the rapid rolls repeated to put the guns up front again.  Last weeks' history repeated as I worked all wattage to roll across Pistol as the bunch propelled to Prentice Rd, Troy, Boof, Wozza, Merida-not-AvantiJohn et al making it look oh so easy to power past for the podium positions.




13/7  Thrash Thursday
Avoiding the number 1 grid position seemed to be on everyones "must do" Thursday, an extra k rolled to avert my early arrival was a lost cause, Bruce, CatCol, Pistol, Rocket, Wozza, Kel, Bo, Troy, Cate and AvantiTrev appearing from all directions (some foreign) in the dying minutes before 5:45.   Bruce set a sympathetic speed alongside me to Kensington's roundabout, Bo too, tame on the tempo to the Kinder.  CatCol's curt contribution at the cypress trees flagged me to the front with Wozz to the S bend (I may have cooked myself bumping up the pace?) Reckoned I'd recover in the time Wozz, Rocket, Pistol, Troy and Bo had done their duty, but Boundary Rd had Bruce and CatCol pull the pin to join Kel, Cate and AvantiTrev in the trailer of the toiled.  I wanted to contribute another turn but the remaining company and their tempo was toasting me (get over it Foss, out of your depth, sit back and witness the fitness!)   Bruce and I were now the gatekeepers, apologies to those in the caboose for the surge to close the gap as the odd number of drivers rolled.   Bo ventured forth (to prove a point?) only to suffer Troy torture at the front, mid forties now dishing out distress to many.  Carriages uncoupled in Central Kialla and, torn between hanging on and helping out, my legs argued to hang back and help Bruce with the tow of Cate and AvantiTrev (and maybe earn a discount on the next bike service?)   Moving the mindset from drafting to driving, I got the chin on the headstem in Mitchell Rd, silence said the speed was sweet, but there's never a grizzle from these two.  Bruce and I swapped sessions along Raftery Rd watching the Hares slip into the distance, legs like Gumby at Conrod's finish but satisfied there's be some gain from the pain.

14/7 Flippant Friday

Only those with serious psyclosis (Boof, Cate, Mel, Shorty, PistolPete and AvantiTrev) saw the window of opportunity on the radar Friday morning, a gap between showers to crank some k's.  Single file made sense, a NNE'er assisting our passage south, but then to face the wind all the way to Channel Rd to earn our breakfast. Cate and AvantiTrev bore the brunt of the breeze in Mitchell Rd, Shorty putting in the hard meters of Central Kialla enjoying a "warm" 9 degrees.  Pistol took over the drivers seat in River Rd and doggedly drove to the dip and beyond, Boof suspected he had fused elbows till Pistol finally handed over the reigns after 4 fortuitous k's. AvantiTrev called for a 10% discount on speed for all to stay connected, arriving at Boundary Rd it was my turn for toil.  Whether it was for punishment or praise, I'd set a target on reaching Channel Rd, not such a clever idea till a hint of respite came from the cover of the trees lining the Broken River.  Legs were protesting a k from the target till 2 passing cars donated a draft, stubborness carrying me the last 400 meters to Channel Rd for the handover and the assisting breeze west. Cate, Mel and AvantiTrev soldiered on to the cypress trees, Boof carrying us to the Kinder where PistolPete turned up the torment for the ChaCha as we (rather poorly) threaded our way between the puddles.  There was no rest as we crossed Orrvale Rd with Pistol still pilot, a dirty bike, a groaning chain, grubby kit and a head wind home, but strangely satisfied.

Week 28:        254 km                    YTD  7,045    

Week 27 : Foss fission fizzled

Post 403
1/7 "Brass monkeys"

The brag factor over-rode the Saturday temperature, minus 4 was all in the mind anyway!  In a test of dedication, similarly strong willed Couldabeens (Cate, Boof, PistolPete, TatMat and The Godfather) assembled at the Antarctica (sorry, Archer) car park, deciding a shorter circuit (Channel, Boundary, Lemnos-Cosgrove, Ford and Wanganui) would be in the best interest of survival.  Low 20's felt fresh but I felt obliged to match PistolPete's pace in the mid 30's on leg 1 (thou shalt not covet Pistol's heated gloves), 82 rpm being my heater but the heart rate was in deep freeze (74 bpm).  There'd be plenty of turns today with just 6 to share the suffering, but make that 7 when ScottMatt appeared (missing with a myotherapy muscle mending mission).  The multi insulated TatPaul was barely recognisable under a camoflague of polar kit but The Godfather was fondly familiar with his usual exuberant energy.  A sudden snarl at Sellmans startled several, Darth Vader suddenly mashing his molars from the dark roadside culvert had come out to cajole.  Pub bound on Boundary, Boof's bother was a slowly deflating tube, so we forged on to the Pine Lodge Hotelerry to extract a sliver of wire from the tyre and taxed tube.   TWR rims made the refit rigorous but it was a tougher task to remount the trust steeds and resume speed.  I reckon I shivered for a k till climatized, but its all for one and one for all in this weather.  The Godfather and Boof faced the frost while others basked in the tow behind (at least 0.00002 degrees warmer back there), ScottMatt appearing effortless on his turn when the roles rolled.  It's believed to be 15% harder at the front but an arctic adrenalin drives the extra effort on mornings like this, thoughts of coffee under the heaters and the Lemontree's hot porridge driving the desire west to town. Finding that rhythm at the pointy end soaks up the distance, my malfunctioning heart rate monitor (now just 82 bpm) casting a false calm over the mindset.  Cate continues to compulsively crank out the turns, Boof braving the bitter cold he's known to despise (while those who slacken from Rule #5 soften in their slumber, to pay a price on pace in Spring)   Fingers were feeling the freeze in Ford Rd, gear-changing not the issue (an over-rated pastime) but it was hard work on the brake levers.  The end was nigh as Wanganui Rd came into view, thankfully the (unspoken) vote of a sprintless finish was unanimous......warmth at the post-ride breakfast taking the priority.  Bikes vs wildfife, Beach Rd and Strava titles was the chat from chattering teeth at the base camp, votes of kudos or craziness issued from the cafe patrons

3/7   Internationalists

Heady fresh from London and Amsterdam and Tina fresh from Italy and Ireland faced the fresh flat-lands on the Monday Goat peace train with Sandy, AvantiAndy, Cate, Jen, and Hommy, aquainting ourselves with the battle of the breeze ((NE'er at 17-28 km/h) out to Boundary Rd immersed in the social sentence swapping.  Heady suffered the Di2 dilemmas (no volts = no cog swapping) while Tina was tuned from the Stelvio's 75 hairpins and 2757 meters of elevation. Sandy's still happy in the caboose, AvantiAndy, Jen and Cate still soldiering on in the shivering season.  It felt good to be out of the northeaster and sailing south on Boundary Rd, Hang on! here's me grizzling about a little breeze after a windless fortnight! Westward on River Rd needed a little echelon education with the NE'er at our starboard side, pitch black consuming all but what 8 lights could pierce.  So soon it was time for my usual exit, buoyed by the breeze along the truck route but a battle to steer up Archer Rd.

4/7  Carpe Diem
A fickle forecast fairly flummoxed Foss for Tuesday, but carpe diem rules in winters wacky weather.  An empty radar gave some hope to tap to the 5:45 ride, assisted by the NNE'er finding the ever effervescent Cate en-route.  KillkennyPaul, Temple and HBK made up the set of 5 (the same old solid soldiers), my job description ; to tow the team for leg one while Cate's loss of lumens confined her to the caboose. HBK did leg 2, Temple Leg 3 for KillkennyPaul to let loose to the Kinder, enthusiasm fading to reality by the cypress trees.  (the art of pacing yourself sometimes has a long apprenticeship)  The Boundary Rd bliss of a tail-wind didn't last long, I was soon back in the drivers seat to fight the breeze, though the smooth surface put a positive on the push.  My handover goal (the kennels) kept extending as the legs co-operated with the determination, on and on toward the dip but the head gave up one white post early.  HBK polished off River Rd nicely as a few drops fell from the heavens, Temple driving a solid turn down to Mitchell Rd.  Cate's call of Hare lights behind drove the determination west, KillkennyPaul giving his all to Archer Rd.  A passing car or two gave me a few moments of draft to get to the highway, a clear crossover giving us some hope over the Hares.  My standard shift at the front in Conrod straight was waiting on cue as KillkennyPaul powered past Arcadia Downs, the heavens opening to soak our sprint.  With buckled brow, soggy socks, gob agape and rainwater pelting its way into places better left unsaid, I sank myself into the headwind toward the line, knowing HBK lay in wait behind to pounce for the sprint spoils.  My meter expired with 250 meters to go , HBK and KillkennyPaul taking the 1-2, my freewheel finding Temple and Cate behind, the combined roll into town all soaked but satisfied we'd headed the Hares again.


6/7  Hare sprayed

A turn up of ten was reassuring in Thursday's cold and foggy start, Pistol, Bruce, Troy, Softa, Cate, KillkennyPaul, Temple, HBK, CatCol and Avanti-not-MeridaJohn meant there'd be some chance of recovery between turns at the rushin' front.  CatCol (confrontingly kitted in Cat colours, clashing with Couldabeens convention) was lamenting a highrise heartrate on the comeback trail as he and I took on the first shift into Channel Rd.  Fog soon pocketed my specs as Pistol and Troy turned up the tempo toward the cypress trees. Seen a split second before, a big branch prostrate in the left lane was close to a chicane calamity.  So much for a clean bike and kit as the Hare spray from the wet tarmac sullied the steed, rear retirements racking up in River Rd elevating me among the Energiser bunnies (sorry, Hares in a hurry).  And so the rotations rolled to Raftery Rd, left to Bruce, Troy, Pistol, Avanti-notMeridaJohn and I to tow the troupe for the culmination in Conrod.  Like clockwork, I'd been handed the helm just beyond the dip, the only option to bury myself and draw the bunch thin till Foss fission fizzled (at the 150 marker) where Bruce and Troy bolted for line honours,  Somewhat soaked yet strangely satisfied, we steered for home, some time taken removing helmet and shoes with fingers frozen.

6/7 Ride or regret

Only Bruce, Cate, Boof and PistolPete were the brave (barmy?) enough to front Friday's saturated streets to tally up a few more k's, single file chosen as the sensible (survivable) standard.  Bruce, Boof then Pistol's pace pumped up the heartrate, an energetic easterly (15 km/h) to fight as we worked into Mitchell Rd.  Still grubby from Thursday's thrash, the bike was looking rather second hand with an extra layer of road grime and grit, not long into River Rd I'd come to terms being second wheel to Pistol when Bruce called a puncture pitstop (a fashion faux pas repairing a filthy wheel wearing white leg warmers!).  Repaired and remounted, Pistol drove the train possessed into the headwind, I'd hoped he'd tow us all the way to Boundary but his elbow signaled it was my turn just beyond the kennels.  I coped rather well for 500 meters but the long wait for the ripple strips (nearing Boundary Rd) seemed longer than a Hollywood hiatus, my mindgames now murdering the muscles.  At last the white lines appeared to ease my effort, the Catless and Goatless Boundary Rd a consolation we were the solitary soldiers while others succumbed to soften in bed.  Boof captained the charge to Channel Rd where Bruce monopolised the tail wind to the cypress trees.  Cate carried us to Central Ave where Pistol slowly turned up the heat for the ChaCha, flogging the forties to Hopeful corner, two long thin puddles in the wheel tracks of Channel Rd kept the file of five Indian style.  Cars behind and ahead squashed any thoughts of a sprint finish, Pistol continuing the pace on toward Doyles, the dregs of my effort drained to lead the last leg home.  

Week 27:    194 km             YTD: 6,791km

And onward soldiers Amanda Coker for the 100,000 mile world record, her usual 400k a day habit spiked with a 647k effort!