Muttering mercy.

 Post #568

18/10 Obeying obsessions.

This circuit had been brewing in the OCD division of the skull for a while.  A road not traveled and a challenge into the bargain.  Covid isolation and a saturated Saturday had starved me of a ride for two days so Sunday was all about obeying the obsession.  And a savage southwester wasn't going to change my resolve.  The nose was pointed north at stupid o'clock toward Nathalia, Bunbartha bound and buoyed by the breeze at the backside.  High 30's was feasible but that would have emptied the tank too fast, there was a distance ahead and a lot of it would be into the wind.   Conservation was key.  It seemed I'd just found a rhythm reaching Zeerust Rd when the rear Michelin changed it's tune, the heart sank along with the tyre pressure as a puncture halted progress.  (profanities uttered)  This would be a repair in low light with the sun yet to get out of bed. The dreaded bindii was the culprit and I was pleased to have tweezers in the kit to extract the stubborn thorn.  Fixed and rolling again, I battled the negatives niggling at the noggin, just one CO2 canister left, no pump and no other tube.  The next flat would resort to a patch. 

The likely-hood of a second puncture wasn't worth thinking about.  Logic was calling a u-turn to home, but the head said h.t.f.u. and ride!  The tarmac does a subtle snake toward Kaarimba but that wind wasn't so subtle, the long length to reach the Murray Valley highway eased by the sun rising behind.  Finally arriving at the B400, this highway's mostly minus that metre or so of sealed edge, and in places a with a 10cm drop to the gravel from it's jagged edge.  The white line became the limit.  What luck just 5 cars wanted to use this road this morning, those audio tactile centre lines giving a reassuring rumble as traffic behind did the decent distance thing. Shame the ruts and bumps made it like mixing a martini! 

West, southwest and south the grey strip meanders toward Kotupna, a few roadside trees giving respite from that wind on the west bits but giving hell on the rest.  Setting expectations on speed were quickly ditched for managing the heart-rate instead. Cockatoos screeched at my high-viz presence (or was that the screech of labored legs?), breaching McCoy's bridge, the almost 80 year old concrete crossing of the Goulburn hinted a turn southeast at Wyuna was near.  The short 2k of Trevaskis Rd head-on to the wind was a truely humbling experience. 31k's headed south southeast into the now 30-40 km/h south southwester would make me stronger, right?  Scar me mentally more like it!  But it's all about suffering isn't it?  Part of the addiction?   Keeping a handbrake on the heart-rate and sucking up the snail-like speed, the 8k's to St.Germain's spent surveying the purple paddocks of Patterson's curse instead of being soaked in self pity.  A metaphoric pat on the back getting there, now the next 8k to Undera!  Don't even think about the CO2 canister struggling to deliver 80 psi an hour ago Foss!

That wish for a fleet of B doubles to pass wasn't honored, a sole Toyota Camry was a short-lived and pitiful substitute.  Undera finally came into view but another 16k lay ahead to battle, a few outcrops of trees offering some shelter, keeping the head below the channel banks theoretically helping the aerodynamics. A smooth stretch of tarmac nearing North Mooroopna probably added  0.00054 km/h to my pace, but I would take anything at this stage.  The wind just blew stronger (like a dose of the "Dookie demons" when you head homeward)  The waft from the water treatment plant was like nitrous on the nose but even that didn't help the hurry, the speed sinking toward the cemetery and into town.   There was real respite among the residential part of town, the promise of coffee keeping the wheels turning back to town.   Rocket, Grumpy, Troy, Bruce, Wozza and Boof were quaffing coffee at the Butterfactory as I berthed to replace lost calories, a chat on F1 salaries, Chris's generosity and re-purposing Pistol's chamois distracting me from the legs lament.  Heading homeward the odometer baited me showing 94km, so that obsession (that never let's up) drove me on a few laps of the avenue homeward to clock the 100. 

19/10 A line for labor.

Legs were a little like liquorice on Monday (lamenting the labor of yesterday) so the spin to the Sanctuary start-line was sedate.  Bo, PistolPete, Kreeky, The Godfather, Tina, Col, Kel and Didak had rolled to the roundabout and I was keen to avoid the southwesterly (spooked from Sunday) so lined up at 5th wheel in the order, hoping to score a turn with a tail-wind.  Pistol fronted first (and who was going to deny him the head-wind?) for his trademark turn to Mitchell Rd, Kreeky piloting our path to Central Kialla.  Bo's turn next and a longer shift was almost guaranteed, just how long was anyone's guess.  To River Rd was standard protocol but this was Bo, proving his pace to the bridge before he handed over to Col.  He would have stayed on the front for longer but I'd say Kel's payback would have life threatening consequences.  Col was the considerate captain driving to the dip then further, suitably centered on the road for all to shelter from the south in that southwester. 

Hang on, was Col bitten by the Bo bug to go far beyond?  Thankfully no at the Angora farm when his elbow showed me the drivers seat.  Out of Col's draft called on a fair bit more throttle, even with that wind sort of behind,; it's slicing that virgin atmosphere that makes you appreciate the draft you just left.  The road's centre-line and the two rows of rumble strips signalling Coach Rd's intersection was a welcome end for my turn, retreating rearward for respiratory relief finding Vince and The Rabbit aboard to share the shifts. 

Where they appeared from I don't know.  My focus on Col's wheel must have been sharp. Kel wrote the book on straight and smooth to the Broken bridges and a little bit more, Tina towing us to the highway while Didak continued his Bachelor of Bunch Riding degree in the caboose (trophies accumulating as predicted)  The Godfather made his contribution to Old Dookie Rd, PistolPete providing pace toward School Rd but Tina's Garmin jumped overboard.  A half minute's calm was Christmas on a stick.  All aboard again, Pistol powered to Central Ave, Vince motivating muscles into the 40's to get us back to town.

  

20/10  A few. No phew. (Heady's happy)

East and west, east and west put variety into the prologue menu, I may be asked to contribute to the road maintenance budget of the Golf course loop if I did another lap.  12k's got the legs free of rust to see what Goats may front in 6 degrees.  The Friars footpath found just 4 fronting at 6, Snowman, Heady, Phil and Mitch the only takers.  Heady seemed happy to head the compact crew out of town, but hurriedly handed me the helm at SPC where DeepFry joined the line.  This shift to Dobson's bridge must be written in my job description, the speed set at sufferable considering the few aboard. 

Mitch has made the move toward road bike conformity in lycra,.....well mostly. We just need him to ditch the cardigan now.  Snow took the captain's role toward Central Ave while I rolled rearward onto Mitch's wheel, leaving a little leeway for his velocity variables to the wheel ahead.  I'm sure his speed will smooth as confidence grows to focus further ahead.  Snow then Phil had tamed the tempo a tad so I may have set the bar a bit high at the start.  But I'll play ball and spin with the status quo.  Not often do I see DeepFry at the front, he's usually the last to join and has yet to front the pack when I exit.  So he scores an elephant stamp for smoothness southbound in Boundary.  

Heady stayed glued in the caboose, Mitch braving the front to nail a steady rhythm without obstructions ahead; it's the beginnings of worthiness when he's already straight and smooth, though his elbow was less than subtle to usher me forward at the bacon barn.  It's a pleasant change to get more than one appearance at the front during my brief visit , that smooth stretch of tarmac toward the highway lifting the spirits as wheels hummed, speed spiked a fraction, the effort eased and there was a hint of a holiday on the heart rate.....if I keep talking  VicRoads will tear up this tarmac and replace it with something rougher than hessian underwear!  Adieu's were bid at Channel Rd and despite the fraction of breeze at the brow, time (or the lack of it) kept up the tempo to hurry me home.

21/10  Ten at my tenths.

An early exit from home allowed a sedate spin to Sanctuary's start-line, a pleasant precursor prior to the pace aplenty ahead!  The Godfather, Bo, PistolPete, Col, Kel, Didak, Kreeky, GreatScottSteve and ChrisA arrived to confirm the "build it and they will come" theory.  The Godfather was baited to take the first shift by reason of being last to arrive.  PistolPete would have been suffering withdrawal symptoms!   Like a diesel on top of the torque curve, The Godfather drove a good shift to Mitchell Rd (considering the aerodynamic anomalies), Kreeky then Kel dividing the drive to get us to River Rd.  Wasn't I in the deep end with a world of wattage ahead of me! 

PistolPete, GreatScottSteve, Bo and ChrisA were yet to do their shifts and that made me the Daihatsu behind the Diablo's !  I could be fried before I fronted!  Crimson painted the horizon as Pistol performed a triple shift to Coach Rd, GreatScottSteve giving a concession for the aged in Coach Rd with 5% off the tempo. Didak had chosen to advance from the caboose in my draft, presuming this was a practice for a debut at driving.  Bo kept labor on the agenda over the highway to Old Dookie Rd, the parade of pelotons southbound making Boundary Rd peak hour.  Clearly from the Kel class of smoothness, ChrisA headed the homeward stretch west in Old Dookie Rd, but hanging 6 inches off his wheel for 3k at 40 got me muttering mercy!  Trouble was, he'd set a standard and who was I to let it slump. 

The bait of Vince and The Rabbit were less than a k ahead as I was handed the reigns at Central Ave, but I would applying my senior citizens discount to the distance at this pace.  All the alarms were going off approaching Dobson's bridge, lungs were bursting, legs would give no more and thoughts were welded on quit ; at east I'd kept eyes off the horror heart rate!  Legs buckled to catch ChrisA's wheel as The Godfather and Bo bolted toward the truck route, a quick peek behind seeing Didak slipping off the rear.  He knew the way home.  A bit of traffic paused progress at the edge of town, 'never say never' Didak catching the tail as Kreeky turned up the tempo to SPC. 

22/10  The Belly bait. 

A stupid o'clock spin of the streets got a sense of the subtle southerly while warming up lax legs, though a lap with the Goats shouldn't be too labor intensive.  Snowman, AvantiLeigh, Coggo, Heady, Phil and Dippa gathered at the grid, Ranso, Macca and Damien as Goat guests to share the labor.  Heady guided our path to SPC where DeepFry and JB joined the pack, two rows forming fortuitously (most likely a Cat ritual) as Ranso and Coggo set the speed to Dobson's estate.  Heady hid in the caboose.  Rather than the single filed silence, the bunch was brimming with babble as paired pals chewed the fat on retirement, returning to restaurants and (questionable) Cat kits.  How sublimely social!   (though it does get a bit peaceful at the pointy end when there's work to do)   Damien, a self-confessed newbie, suffers a case of jabber-jaw at any position in the pack, conversations distracting him from a straight and smooth path ahead (hints of WobblyTrev)   

Not the most reassuring wheel to follow. Breathless by the time I'd drawn alongside, he'd gestured me over in a heartbeat, Coggo and I left to do duty toward River Rd.  Westward with the wind off the brow made River Rd cruisy, Snow keeping Heady company in the caboose. Ranso's got wattage way beyond Goat requirements, he and Coggo driving to the dip as a distant red led flashed it's "come get me" to inspire AvantiLeigh and Macca to power on.  The familiar figure of Belly appeared in the last k of River Rd.  Damien did a short shift again (less time on his wheel may reduce my insurance premium?) so Coggo and I were on duty to drive to Central Kialla.  Time was taken today to do a full lap - a treat from the usual short-cut and hurry home.  Belly joined the workforce in Mitchell Rd, the tempo nothing to raise a sweat but maybe reserves were being banked for the flurry at the finish? 

Damien had charged into Raftery Rd's bend but was cooked by Roubaix corner, Coggo and I doing the leg to Galbraith's gate where Ranso took on the partnership.  Speed simmered and hopes heightened for a few, into Conrod's dip Coggo called it quits so Ranso drew the line longer.  Heady had dislodged from the rear.  The finish line became the bait for Belly to bolt, albeit prematurely, speed sinking with 50 metres to go.  (Phil and AvantiLeigh pounced the opportunity).  It's been a while since getting into the mix of a sprint, a spate of single filed circuits seems to exhaust the urge at the end.  A case of too spent to sprint?

23/ 10  Catching the right train.

I'd missed the What's App note on the change of grid and time for Friday, so that explained the serenity at Sanctuary at 5:40.  Back toward town in search of bike brethren, a line of led's swung west into Kialla Lakes Drive, turning it time for tempo if I were to catch that train.  My pursuit was in vein at Melbourne Rd, their velocity (and distance ahead) had the better of me.  They'd plied a path down Raftery, so I mentally mapped a short-cut ; straight down the highway to head 'em off at Mitchell.  And don't spare the wattage Foss!  Mitchell was empty west and east, so a quiet tap to Dave's dip soon had a bunch at my back.  But the blur of Rocket, Liam, GiantAndy, Bruce, Lenny, Wozza and Trav bolting by told me this was the express, and I didn't have a ticket (or the tempo) for it!   Opportunity said hang on and see how long I'd survive......in the caboose.  Bruce peeled off from duty in Central Kialla and rolled rearward, telling me the Sanctuary squad were somewhere behind.  Dropping off the back was suddenly appealing.   

A quiet roll along River Rd viewing a scenic sun-up hardly ever happens, soon the line of  TrackStan, Kel, The Godfather, Tina, Kreeky, Lance, Didak, PistolPete, MexicanAnt, Bo and Col were closing in ; an easier train to board.  Lance retired from the front and slipped silently to the rear, Kel cutting the headwind to Coach Rd.  Hadn't I joined at the right time to be towed; at this rate my turn at the front would come with a tail-wind.  Didak was on the advance for a first time turn as captain, Col in the commentary seat behind. 

Bo set a high 30's hurry north with the followers fanned across the tarmac in shelter, Tina was tasked with the tow to Old Dookie Rd while storm clouds lit with lightning worked west beyond Dookie.  Red faded from the horizon.  We received just three spits from the sky.  The Godfather toughed out a turn to the Toaster, his chain agonized on the smallest sprocket in protest. TrackStan led us to the Pine Lodge church, MexicanAnt doing the swift shift to Lemnos-Cosgrove (so how does that happen when he hasn't ridden for ages?)   All were happy in the heaven headed west, boosted by the breeze behind, Kreeky and Lance leading the way to Boundary Rd where Pistol took charge. 

Didak's leading role was nigh.  The call of "clear" for Lemnos North Rd flung the gate wide open for the young fella, full steam into Ford Rd and gapping the bunch into the process.  Ah, aint' youthful exuberance a wonderful thing!  Col set about a gradual pursuit to keep the line together, Didak relenting when caught.  A first appearance was worth kudos, there was a few weeks work to get there.  (There'll be no holding him back now)   Col did duty to Grahamvale Rd as I mentally braced for the toil next, thankful that wind was there to enhance the ordinary. Speed was manageable, doing the distance the drama.  Kreeky took the turn to the highway while I stifled the gasps at the rear, focus finally restored for the work to come on Wanganui Rd. (hoping a sprint was to be struck from the agenda)   Several had taken up rear residence, the re-shuffle putting me on MexicanAnt's green wheel (green tyre, green shoes, green bar tape, you get the picture).  I was pleased the pace stayed steady ('cause legs weren't giving much more), Bo building the pace back up from a brief respite in Rudd Rd, but The Godfather taming it again on the Boulevard.  Col had other ideas to bolt toward breakfast, traffic lights eventually bringing the bunch back together.   A brew and banter at the ButterFactory made Friday feel like Saturday, the forecast most likely to squash a Saturday spin. 

This week 350km         YTD 8,948km              

        

            

Not talking, gasping!

 Post #567

10/10  A brisk bolt to breakfast.

A Saturday prologue had been a long time off the ride ritual, so what better way to soak up 50 minutes before flagfall.  (Damn insomnia!)  Extending the standard 55k might teach the legs a different routine anyway.  Old Dookie Rd was desolate at 5:10, fog my only companion on the the 20k course that I had mapped in my head.  (meandering the east via Central, Channel, Orrvale and Poplar as a warm-up [in 4 degrees?] for the 6am circuit from the car park). I hadn't seen a few faces since the Sanctuary / shop split.  

Bruce, Rocket, Liam,

Shorty, GiantAndy, TatMat, Boof, Lenny, Determined Dan, Kreeky, Wozza and TatPaul  amassed at the shop, Boof leading the Indian file charge toward Adams Rd.   I'd banked on two rows forming so selected Liam's wheel to follow, I'd slip gradually down the line of demotion before joining the advance, giving me a ton of time to harden up for front-of-house duty.  But single file was here to stay and I was definitely in the deep end!  As Boof peeled off the front for Wozza to drive, I took the chance to slip back to the safety of the caboose, hoping the hurry would slip into something more comfortable.  As if!  Rocket then Liam lit the afterburners and Lenny kept the urgency going up to River Rd.  This was a deep end I could drown in!  40's was now commonplace. TatMat heeded the hurry toward River Rd's bridge while the alarm bells of going ota were chiming in my head,  though some were already in struggle street behind me.   The hollers of "ease up!" was ecstasy to my ears. 

The slow to the dip had yet to bring the bunch together, so in view of the oversized population, I teamed with TatMat, Kreeky, TatPaul and DeterminedDan  to continue ; the rest could reconvene at will.  This was a more manageable mob.  That pressure to perform (beyond my depth) was off.  A speed suggestion of mid 30's struck accord so TatPaul commenced proceedings (a little shy of the suggestion) toward Coach Rd.  Determined Dan took the lead and the tempo by the scruff of the neck at the Angora farm, his body language determined to drive long in Coach Rd too. 

No complaints from me, I'll take his tow any day.  The Broken bridges wasn't enough, it was all the way to the highway for Determined Dan before I'd taste the tempo at the front.   The first 100 metres without any hurry got the line into close quarters, the next hundred brewing up to the prior pace, then with the head down and rhythm right, drive the turn long and hope the heart numbers didn't escalate.   Feeling fairly good by the bridge I gave a longer target a try, an aim at the fig farm would be double my usual effort.  I called it quits there before I had a hernia, and rolled rearward to give Kreeky the drivers seat, finding a string of a dozen now behind.  The fast faction had apparently rejoined back at the highway so that cranked up the confidence (would I have shortened the shift knowing all were back aboard?) 

TatMat towed us the last 2k of Old Dookie Rd, TatPaul shaking off the 'Karen' karma to reach the church.  Our turn west onto Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd confirmed wind wasn't our enemy (at last!), pace only picking up a little thanks to the leniency of Lenny and Wozz.  Shorty had finally reached the business end but suffered the speed by the Main Eastern.  Rocket made the dash to Lemnos North Rd where we bid adieu's to GiantAndy,  Liam taking charge into Ford Rd and amplifying speed with Boof as back-up but Bruce kept to the prior pace with the occasional glance to see the bunch didn't have bits breaking off the back. Kind lad.

Our faster friends were caught as traffic pegged them at Grahamvale Rd, Boof then leading the line into town.  Bruce faced the work into Wanganui Rd while I was content in his draft, he'd do the long shift to Rudd before I'd face the facts at the front.  With a little wattage left at the Golf Rd roundabout I kept the captaincy till Canterbury, the tow to breakfast recouping oxygen by the bucket-load.  Tax avoidance, the foibles of forecasting and football kept the jaws flapping between bites of breakfast.

12/10  Collecting carriages.

I'm beginning to doubt a day off is good for you.  This creaky old engine needed a sharp shove to get going on Monday, maybe the 5 degree start wasn't helping?  "You shouldn't rev an old cold engine" dad used to say.  To the start line with two minutes spare, PistolPete, Bo, The Godfather, Tina, Col, Kel and Didak converged for the fling.  PistolPete rolled the wheels right on the third stroke of 5:40, a foot fumble relegating me instantly to the rear.  No problem really, plenty of time now to prepare for punishment at the front.  Didak slipped into the caboose as Pistol paced us to Mitchell Rd, already a hint of horizon light to see beyond the headlight's reach.  Warmer weather's a-comin'! The Godfather had the reigns to Central Kialla and Col kept the pace on to River Rd, rounding up Vince and The Rabbit to join the throng,  but many probably wondered how greedy Bo would be on the way east. 

Of course it would be beyond the bridge but a repeat of last weeks 6k turn would be as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit.  His elbow thankfully gestured at Laws Drive ; maybe Kel's glare was burning his back?  Kel's svelte spin took us to the quarter horse stud, Tina towing us to the Angora farm.  With the tarmac like a snooker table, head down and chain on the 15, I'd got the rhythm right to polish-off River Rd (though the rumble strips took a long time coming for my labored lungs)   

Rocket and Bruce's southbound lights  u-turned and joined in Coach Rd as Pistol piloted us north, Didak still in the caboose familiarizing the course and learning the protocols. There were plenty of pacemakers ahead, maybe I'd done my one and only for today?  Even The Rabbit had advanced for duty.  Maybe there was an essence of anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better , maybe I'm reading this ride like a book, but Pistol did the hard yards to the highway, The Godfather see-sawed his speed to Old Dookie and Vince poured on the pace to Central Ave, so it was a single shift circuit for me.  The Rabbit's debut drive did well, careful at the start and brewed for bulk breathing toward the end, a long one too reaching the roundabout nudging the 40's.  Time for some social stuff through town with oxygen now spare for chat, turning for home as others turned for coffee is the tax I pay for a 7:30 start at the coal face. 

13/10  Born again Goats. 

A (predictable) prologue for Tuesday limbered liberated legs in short knicks, 9 degrees near enough to my temperature threshold to ditch most of the winter layers.  The same old golf course loop of 12k almost had a hint of daylight at 5:30.  Bring on Summer!  Barely a puff of wind and almost double digit temperatures dragged Goats out of the woodwork in almost a biblical second coming.  Snow, Dippa, Hommie, Heady, Coggo, Belly, Sandy, Phil and AvantiLeigh filled the Friars footpath, Heady even inspired to lead the train east. 

That lasted a whole 400 metres.  Coggo claimed captaincy and put pace into the recipe.  DeepFry and JB climbed aboard from their SPC start-line, so numbers like this would justify two rows.  Nope, single file had stuck.  Maybe the fear of the front had some stalling their appearance at the business end?  Coggo's elbow had an early suggestion I take the lead before we'd reached Dobson's, so with 11 astern it'd be a one and only shift for me. To Central Ave and don't spare the horses!  The halt for Central Ave traffic may have been a blessing for Heady. 

Snow did his duty toward School Rd while I latched onto Coggo's wheel.  Snow's shift turned to Sandy's soon after but hang on folks, Hommie was about to take the helm.  Speed was keen to begin with but reality took hold not long after, Heady hanging on silent in the caboose.   AvantiLeigh showed how smoothness was delivered, first light rising above the fog in Boundary Rd's fields.   Dippa made an abbreviated contribution, Phil forging on to the bridge where Belly offered his services to speed toward the highway.  Regrettably, the clock had other duties due for me, the usual exit via Channel Rd sending me west toward work. 

14/10  A Wednesday watusi.

The slightest suggestion of a southerly stoked up suffering for the 10k to Sanctuary's start-line, a perfect preparation for pace to come, when you think about it.  And not a hint of breeze when a traffic light put a halt in the commute.  Go figure!  Tina, Col, The Godfather, Kel, Joe (not Tony), GreatScottSteve and Kreeky set sail at 5:40 with PistolPete the Chief Executive in charge of the charge south, a textbook calm before gradually opening the throttle to the usual pace (not talking, gasping) toward Mitchell Rd.  That southerly had no effect on him!  GreatScottSteve did a cautious drive east to Central Kialla, the never ending roadworks leaving all but a thin strip of decent tarmac rideable. 

 I'd won the lottery and Christmas had come early getting the breeze at the backside for the 2k drive to River Rd (although the speed was nothing to scoff about), Kreeky relieving me of duty to take on the east leg to the bridge.  Beyond the bridge to Laws Drive, then beyond to the dip was doing a double shift (maybe Kreeky had tested positive to the Bo virus?) but he peeled off there for Kel to captain.  Two red leds blinked on the horizon as bait (Vince and The Rabbit) to guide Kel toward Coach Rd (as if we need reminding of a course much traveled), Tina taking over at the Angora farm to deliver us to rooster corner.  Col had his quick oats for breakfast, delivering a swift shift north to the highway.  It's hard to break the habit of peeking at the order ahead to predict the shifts, The Godfather verifying my guess to drive to Old Dookie. 

Suddenly inspired to spin in Spring weather, several bunches southbound are now commonplace on Boundary Rd, among them some clown in a 4x4 with half a million lumens of high beam ablaze to blind us.  Going like a steam train, Joe (not Tony) scored the first leg west on Old Dookie Rd (ah, the rise and rise of someone new to riding as fitness fosters and all the trophies for trying are won......til most of us slowly level out over the years then start to struggle to hang on.  I did say 'most' of us!)  PistolPete took the reigns at School Rd and bumped up the breathing by adding a couple of k's to the tempo.  And I thought he was done at Central Ave.  Nah, to Doyles roundabout nudging the 40's if you don't mind! (how good is that recovery from where he was five months ago!)  GreatScottSteve had the last say to spin to SPC's roundabout (finally catching Vince and The Rabbit), the tempo now tame enough to talk as we twisted the streets toward coffee.

15/10  Legs liberated.

Predictable prologues be gone!  Ride repetition needed a shake-up so set south to tap 20k before my usual brief affiliation with the Goats on Thursday.  A summer-like northeaster brewed and 13 degrees had legs liberated from what seems like never ending winter insulation.  To the south of town then steering east then north certainly felt the  handbrake effect on speed. Back into town, Goats had gathered for the 6am ritual.  Heady, Snow, Belly, AvantiLeigh, Coggo, Sandy, Ranso, Phil and Hommie babbled the 2 minutes before flag-fall, Heady (with optimistic fervor) taking the lead role to lead us east.  He survived 100 metres further today before relegating himself rearward (everyday a little progress Heady.  At this rate he'll be doing the whole lap by June 2021!  My guess is that he'll keep trying.  Which is more than some others!)   I'd been handed the lead by proxy to left and right the streets to exit town, finding DeepFry at SPC to join the Indian file of the ranks.  That northeaster at the nose was a nuisance! 

The sense of expectation from the bunch behind (or was it a fear of failure?) unearthed the mid 30's toward Dobson's estate, head low and cadence up helped.  It was a relief to do the elbow thing at the bridge, great to see Sandy storm to the front to take charge to Central Ave but disappointing to hear silence from the back about traffic looming behind. With rest comes responsibility in the caboose folks!  Riding those rumble strips rattled the amalgam.  Hommie's shift was subdued beyond Central Ave, not the boom and bust we've come to expect from the big fella ; it almost ranked as respectable!  AvantiLeigh followed in fine form, Ranso taking charge in Boundary as a scenic sun-up unfolded at the port-side bow.  Effort had eased now the wind was at our behinds and speed spiked as a result, my glance behind noting Heady had joined the missing persons list.  Already at 15 degrees, all legs were exposed though not many had braved bare arms yet.  (won't be long and the grizzles about heat will be on us!)  Tarmac blurred under the wheels for a few minutes before time beckoned my exit via Channel Rd, a pleasing pace to home with that northeaster finally in my favor. 

This week was cut short in covid isolation, coffee consumed at a "hot spot" (identified after) deprives me the bike addiction till tests prove a negative (hopefully!) 

This week  257km       YTD 8,597km  

          

          

Amplifying ability.

 Post #566

3/10 Wind woes.

What to wear! Months of being layered against winter's cold has me cautious, even when the bureau says 13 degrees, so the base layer insurance covered my 5:30 guess at short knicks and fingerless gloves.  Saturday's sultans of speed would no doubt provide any warmth required.  A generous northeaster should have sped me to Sanctuary's start line but this old engine was barely breaking low 30's. Would I cope in the heat of hurry with the bunch?  Destined to go ota?  I'm probably out of my depth but where's the challenge in slowing down?  Time to get my head out of the doomsday book.   Rule #5 needed careful contemplation. 

Bo, The Godfather, PistolPete, Col and newbie Didak converged for the weekend ritual, many other Saturday starters opting for some distance to Dookie.   The sun's 6am appearance was savored, tonight's twist of time (daylight savings) will steal it away for a few weeks. Just when we were enjoying Spring!   Bo (in the role of tail wind specialist) led the single filed spin to Mitchell Rd, my only choice was berthed behind Pistol 'cause Col played guide to Didak at the rear.  The turn east had that wind attack the left brow...relief almost 23k's away.  Pete drove the leg to Central Kialla so I scored the north assault to River Rd, a house or two, the community hall, half a dozen trees and the fire brigade's shed the only shelter from the wind that threatened to blow us backward.  Well how about that! I'd managed to keep the tempo and didn't blow a head gasket doing it!  Back to 4th wheel in River Rd was heaven.  Most Saturday's score at least 10 to share the load but with just 4 driving today's train, the psychological concrete was being consumed.  The Godfather's shift went long to the dip, a challenge swallowed by Bo to drive longer, reaching River Rd's end where Tina joined the line.   

Col's commentary to Didak was the stuff of bunch protocol behind me (guide the uninitiated Rule # 3 says) but continued pace into Coach Rd broke him off the back.  Sympathy slowed the hurry to re-unite the 7 by the Broken bridges, inheriting Shorty. Lance and Aaron (remnants from the car-park grid not doin' Dookie) as extra help into the wind.  But the order of things had me due for another turn after Pistol's pace.  He stayed on as captain to Old Dookie Rd so reality would hit me for the easterly effort toward the Toaster.  Head down and cadence up got the speed to satisfactory, now to sustain it for more than 100 metres!  So hopes were high reaching the main eastern channel a k later, enough to continue another half a k more (blessed by descent off the bridge)   At least a longer respite was in store at the rear.  The Godfather headed the turn to the Toaster, Bo being train driver to the Pine Lodge church.   Shorty opened his account towing us to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd where Tina took the team by the scruff to speed west.  The (almost) tail-wind to town couldn't have been a better ride recipe.  Lance made his mark on speed from Boundary Rd, unfortunately falling to the fashion faux pas of "never" & "alone" socks on the wrong feet (though dressing in the dark can have more cringe-worthy consequences).   

Aaron was in the box seat from the main eastern channel, his (now) squeaky clean Pinarello sparkling in the sun.  Bo was back at the front for Ford Rd, firing on all cylinders to Grahamvale Rd and drawing me closer to yet another turn at the business end.  Pistol would drive a long and smooth one so work for me was a little way off.  Verney Rd must have been an exit from effort for Aaron, Col and Didak 'cause they were awol when we arrived at the highway.  Crossing an A road is almost always awkward, the weight of that call resting heavily on the shoulders of the front-runners (ultimately, your own decision is final)   A cars' last moment indicator had split the crossing of Numurkah Rd a quiet roll at 30 was most welcome prior to the pressure for my pace to Mt.Wanganui.  Low 40's with the wind behind was easy on the ego but 2k's of it dried up the wattage quickly.  Being first across the line was rare as rocking horse manure ; let's not mention the tail-wind shall we?   A long drawn-out line was back at close quarters in Rudd Rd, The Godfather and Bo keeping breathing busy along the Boulevard where Col and  Didak re-united from their short-cut.   Seated and dining at the Butter Factory was social salvation after what seemed like weeks of standing like outcasts doing the distancing thing in the car park, great gigs in peculiar places. plans for post lock-down holidays and constant covid cleaning the sentences swapped over breakfast.

5/10  The winds of change.

23 degrees at 5am, how liberating!  And a tail wind to take me to Monday's start-line.  Spoilt!  Be gone base layer and arm-warmers, limbs were liberated too.  Setting south into the darkness that daylight saving had stolen, I could ease up the effort to reach Sanctuary's roundabout with the wind blowing like this.  Big mistake.  No sooner steering into Archer Rd the wind shifted to a westerly.  Barely a minute passed and it swung to a southerly.  Speed slumped.  Time turned enemy.  Getting to the grid by 5:40 would be tight.  I didn't plan to spend all this energy early but missing the train wasn't the plan either.  The harder I pushed the harder the wind blew, and just 300 metres from the roundabout the bunch rolled away.  What really sucked? Not one had seen me a few moments from getting aboard.  Now well into the red zone, all hopes were on traffic at the truck route pausing their progress so a sole B double was my savior to finally catch the caboose.  Speechless.  Now to attempt recovery while PistolPete got into top gear to Mitchell Rd.  The Godfather, Bo, Kel, Tina, Kreeky, Col and Didak had formed Indian file behind, most battling the wind as it chopped and changed. 

With a bit of oxygen banked and the heart rate finally below 170 in Central Kialla, I leapfrogged Didak to join the advance.  I should at least make a contribution albeit a modest one.  It was a happier place with the wind behind but that temperature had trimmed to 13.  A cold front was upon us but there was plenty of heat in the speed.  On Kreeky's wheel was a comfortable sit, Didak still a bit green grabbing at the brakes as velocity varied.  (He'll find watching a few wheels ahead for the fine fluctuations easier than reacting rapidly to the one wheel ahead)   The wind was at the right flank in River Rd and Bo had us paying tax on the tempo, the line a lot longer when we'd cornered into Coach Rd.  Didak's tank had emptied and Col had eased back to guide his path home, so six sped north under Tina's command. 

Kreeky took charge nearing Channel Rd and stayed on for the long drive to Old Dookie, my focus shortening on his wheel as the bitumen blurred under it.  Effort was escalating, that wind was swinging again to test us.  I was given the lead role turning west, northwest this time to squash the speed at the front.  Mid 30's was close to my melt-down, School Rd just a fraction to far to reach, so peeled off before an implosion left me nothing to catch the tail.  PistolPete was the next to drive, adding a couple of k's to the pace (and a lot more labor to my lungs).  Get used to it Foss, Bo was about to let loose for the hurry home.  The draft from five ahead helped (that sense of bunch belonging extracting the last few watts to hold on), hoping beyond Doyles Rd roundabout the speed may ease.  As if!  The dash to SPC was the swansong (funny how there's just a bit more found in the tank to keep up) a calmer cadence through the streets the reward for hard labor.  

6/10  What the?  Winter's back?

Now, where's the base layers and arm-warmers?  Tuesday had hit the rewind on temperature, back to a June-like feels like 5 (and a swift southwester to keep it that way)  So much for Spring! 

 I spun the streets to put variety into the regular prologue  (nothing as artistic as ol' mate WallyGPX can on Strava), 13k on the odometer as a substitute for doing half a lap with the Goats. The cold and the dark trimmed the starters to Coggo, Phil, Dippa, Sandy, Hommie and AvantiLeigh at Friars, Sandy using the aerodynamic advantage to start a spirited turn to Doyles Rd.  There was enough west in the southwester for the east leg on Old Dookie Rd, drawing the group to single file behind Coggo's drive to the bridge.  AvantiLeigh's lost nothing despite many months off the bike ('aint youth a wonderful thing?), towing us to Central Ave where my number came up. 

The pressure to perform was eased by the breeze behind, riding the centre line so the six had some sort of shelter.  Hommie hurried the turn to Boundary Rd   (those on the 5:40 fling steaming west with bits being dislodged off the back), the see-sawing tempo a test as it amplified rearward.  Dippa retreated to the caboose predicting the workload headed south.  Coggo set the speed to smooth at the fig farm and beyond, no doubt inspiring Sandy to brave the wind to Hosie Rd.   Time had come for my departure via Channel Rd, that southwester posing a pedestrian pace till a bike behind spurred more effort.  I'd gained some distance by the S bend but complacency had calmed that progress by the cypress trees, it only took a glance at that headlight closing in again to pick the pace up again.  The ChaCha's super smooth tarmac made more motion easy, two red leds ahead stirring even more.  A fairly fast finale into town was better than a crawl to complete the circuit, despite the protest of labored legs.

7/10  Smooth rules

Precipitation predictions had eyes open early, but there was relief when the radar reckoned ride.  So swinging the leg over a couple of minutes early took the pressure off to meet the Sanctuary start time.  Tina, PistolPete, Bo, Kreeky, Kel and Joe (not Tony) assembled at the roundabout, a little procrastination as 5:40 struck on who was to set the train rolling (maybe it was choosing the wheel of least pain?)   Pistol stepped up to the plate, Bo, Kel, Tina, me, Joe (not Tony) and Kreeky Indian filed behind.  Yeah, it's the same old format, the same old circuit and the same young mates, but there's comfort in consistency.  I couldn't work out which way that wind was blowing but it was better left ignored, it'd only hassle the headspace.  Kel sped the way to River Rd and Tina towed us to the bridge as a smooth introduction to my time at the front.  I was convincing the cranium I had a tail breeze. 

Still coherent at the dip, it was worth adding an extra 400 metres (as if to amplify ability) before handing over to Joe (not Tony).  Do we work our legs to a lather only for the calm in the caboose?  It's that "banging your head against a brick wall" theory.  'Cause it's lovely when you stop!  Kreeky finished off River Rd while I mentally prepared for Pistol's pace into Coach Rd.  Spearing through the darkness with just the headlight's beam our lifeline has got knobs on it, bring back the daylight we had last week please! (note to self ; another pot-hole grows on the west side of the tarmac at One Tree Dam)  Of course PistolPete was in for a long shift, 3.6 k's to the highway, 'cause he can!  (that meant Bo would want to do better, probably to Old Dookie, Kel would drive smooth and swift to School Rd and Tina would try for Central.  Yep, I'd be due for another turn at the front)  I think a bit too much eh?  Tempo had turned up to shift the chain to the 14 cog, less I over-rev an old engine and blow a head gasket. 

The slow to cross the highway was a short-live respite, Bo was on the gas to demonstrate his driving to (you guessed it) Old Dookie Rd.  Kel had the courtesy to turn up her wattage gently, all were closely astern to be towed to School Rd where Tina took over. (Predictions to perfection)  Tina's going great guns, though I wish there was a bit more of her to get a decent draft ;  a long 1.7 k's at the business end to bring us to Central Ave.  My shift was thankfully shorter, just 1300 to Dobson's bridge.  A gradual build up of speed to avoid gapping the carriages, a gnashing of teeth for the wind shear of oncoming cars, a tempo to the bridge hopefully worth a nod or two and something left to catch the tail as I peeled off.  Joe (not Tony) got my elbow on the downhill off the bridge, kudos echoed as the line drew by and I caught the tail with just a groan or three expelled.  Joe (not Tony) did worthy work to the Doyles Rd roundabout, Kreeky dishing up the dessert with haste on the last leg to SPC. Smooth did rule for a rapid lap.

9/10  Bo : the tailwind thief.

That west northwester would be heaven then hell. 26 km/h worth welcomed Friday's stupid o'clock start, not such a rush to get to the grid by 5:40 but there'd be labor on the way back home.  Pistol, Bo, The Godfather, Kel, Col, Tina, GreatScottSteve and Tina were loitering with intent at Sanctuary's roundabout, Col having no hesitation heading the hurry south to Mitchell then east to Central Kialla.  (That tail-wind temptation had got to him)    Kreeky bore the brunt of the north in the west northwester to River Rd where Bo was handed the drivers seat.  That tail-wind temptation would be too much for Bo.  I'd expected him to go beyond the bridge and maybe to Laws Drive but he was still heading the hurry at the dip.  Beyond Trevaskis Rd was really getting greedy and when the quarter horse stud came into the headlights beam he'd been in the throne longer than Liz. 

Still in control at the Angora Stud, Bo was now as popular as Nicolae Ceausescu, eight lined up behind relegated to suffering the headwind home.  Pistol Pete launched a coup on Bo's captaincy to overthrow the driving dictator in Coach Rd but the damage was already done, that wind now lashing the starboard side.  The want to sit at 4 o'clock to the wheel ahead (for maximum draft) needed restraint, positioning to more like 5:20 would keep the tail-enders out of the gutter.  Those few trees at the Broken river offered a moment's respite, Pistol's smoothness helping on the exposed sections to the highway. 

The Godfather took command beyond the pub with almost peak hour traffic bearing south ; a few cars and several bunches (now finally out of hibernation) filling what was once a desolate stretch of tarmac a few weeks ago.  The Godfather's trademark variations in velocity hammered the hamstrings all the way to Old Dookie Rd, at least Kel's contribution of smoothness wasn't as taxing.   All the usual determination was there to reach School Rd but her elbow beckoned Tina's turn to start a little short of the mark.  I wanted a chin rest for my headstem to tag Tina's wheel for the long and strong shift toward Central Ave but her elbow called early mercy too.  This shouldn't be too hard Foss, just 700 to reach Central Ave, but wind gusts took their toll quickly ; first physically with all the usual rates through the roof (except speed!), then mentally as the hurt taxed the head.  Plans for a swift shift were rapidly written off.  Surviving to Central would be my limit.  A car on Central (causing our halt) was heaven sent. GreatScottSteve finally got his turn at the front and proved his worth to lead us to town, the usual caution at the roundabout then back on the throttle for Col to hurry us to SPC.  From the darkness behind, Rocket, Wozza, Bruce, Lenny and Boof drew by, seems the weekday chase is back on the menu.  Two groups, same circuit, start lines 3km apart for a bit of Spring sport.

This week 236 km     YTD 8,338 km

                         

Fitness.....or far from it.

 Post #565

26/9  Saturday's switcheroo.

Just a moment and a half away from stepping out the door and the rain started.  Feels like -1.8 and a west northwester at 26 km/h weighed in as rebuttals for the negative too. Saturday's ride was looking like a lost cause.  Hopes hung on the following few minutes that rain would retreat, the lust for lap and it's social sustenance being this junkie's meth.  But the drizzle continued, confirming cancellation.  Another coffee and a chapter of "Shut up legs" would be cheap consolation.  Salvation came soon after when What's App pinged, Tina suggesting a tap to Tat with Hoffy and the crew, an 8:30 start sounding most civilized.......if the weather behaved. 

A clear radar at 8 and the temperature approaching tropical (2 degrees) was game-on for me, so spun to the constabulary to find Chilly, Dazza, Minty, Tina, Hoffy and Ric keen to clock some k's.  This would be a change from the standard Saturday Couldabeens charge.  A sedate start on the shared path to Mooroopna sorted out an order (of sorts), the twisting route through town eventually finding the Echuca Rd exit (after Tina's puncture had been tended to)   There was work to do on the way west out of town, Hoffy and Chilly's turns had turned token and Minty had made the caboose a second home, so Tina, Dazza, Ric and I had the roles of tow truck on the crooked course to Tat.  (McIssac, Turnbull, Lenne, Ardmona, Simson, Craven and Ferguson about as twisted as you can get)   

Dazza played fair and Tina's as perfect pairing as you could get but Ric has graduated from the university of f u when it comes to riding alongside at the front.  Rule #86 violations on so many counts (as a guest in a bunch one sucks it up in silence).   Forgive them father for they know not what they do.  The wind had swung west southwest to provide a bit of variety, a few orchards remain though to offer a tad of shelter, eventually touring into Tatura where a mid-ride coffee took priority.  Well, that shook the ride ritual, but when in Rome.......

Media and politics was rather heavyweight chat at the Roma cafe but the urge to get back aboard when the cup emptied closed conversation, the return via Toolamba beckoned.  With hot coffee inside and feels like 4 outside, Dhurringile Rd had all the appeal of an appointment with the accountant, so at least the sun was shining as an incentive to drive into the southwester (yep, changed again).   

The way west on Toolamba-Rushworth Rd was in stark contrast, that wind at the rear inflating speed and ego's with it.  Ric's half-wheeling tripled (bite your tongue Foss!)   Six k's at a good speed (a little like David Bowie's song, if I can twist the lyrics a bit;  We can be heroes, just for one way) were followed by something a little more sedate beyond the Murchison Rd as Dazza and Chilly captained through Toolamba's metropolis, the lefts and rights of Bridge Rd steered before a dismount to cross the 100+ year old timber bridge (full of gaps) over the Goulburn.  (Ric rode it of course)  As usual, a short sprint followed the remount to catch the bunch.  The order reshuffled again, happier I'd slotted in between Tina and Dazza for the coarse course of Union Rd.  I must be hardening up, it didn't feel so rough.    With noses north on Central Kialla Rd, Hoffy took advantage of the wind behind to donate a drive, but his shift was short-lived, Chilly called to front up as windbreak on Mitchell Rd.  I wondered if Raftery Rd would be the course toward coffee but Archer Rd was chosen as the shorter way to town, many heading homeward via a zig-zagged course, but the Butter factory lured Tina, Minty and I.   'Twas an odd sensation to finish almost at noon, though pleased to have turned the tide on a damp and dismal beginning.

28/9  A fresh frolic.

Had I slept in and woken in June?  Feels like minus 1.3!  (Haul out the winter gloves and base layer again) That temperature didn't help the dose of Monday-itis but regret would ruin the day if I'd stayed in bed.  A southerly straight off the Antarctic did it's best to chill enthusiasm for the 20 minute spin to Sanctuary's roundabout but I'm sure the pace that PistolPete, Kreeky, Col, Bo, Kel and The Godfather would set should generate a little warmth.  Nothing against PistolPete or Bo, but I'd avoided their wheel to choose a tow less tortuous than their tempo, Kreeky's far more manageable for my Monday.  PistolPete's ritual role of first shift was considerately paced, legs tuned to the tempo when reaching the truck route.  Of course, Pistol powered on to Mitchell Rd. 

Bo kept us busy too driving to Central Kialla (or is it Kialla Central? Depends on the direction you approach it?), the breeze doing the business for Kel to captain us to River Rd as I inched (or should that be millimetre'd?) my way toward a turn at the front.   Kreeky kindly supplied the draft for River Rd's first leg, that half a metre descent off the bridge starting my turn on a positive.  Still spinning a reasonable speed at the dip (I can't recall erythropietin being in my Weet-Bix ingredients?)  I added an extra 300 metres to the shift (when you're on a good thing....) then handed Col the job so I could enjoy the sun-up without wrestling with a hernia.  For a fella that "didn't want to ride" he kept pace percolating till River Rd's end.   Bruce and Rocket appeared from the north (What? No other takers for their 5:40 flogging from the car park?) so they joined the tail as The Godfather varied velocity up to the highway. 

PistolPete presented himself to the front for seconds, that smooth speed making 40's fine, even for dilapidated dinosaurs like me!  Of course, the 3k drive to Old Dookie Rd was par for Pistol.  Not to be outdone, Bo made short work of the west way to Central Ave, but probably cooked Kel into the bargain.  There'd be a second shift for me today.  Kel towed us to Dobson's bridge, Kreeky driving to Doyles, so I had the final fling to SPC.  Maybe the buildings bordering Old Dookie were the windbreak?  Speed was rather satisfying to the roundabout to finish off the frolic. 

1/10  Galivantin' Goats.

A Lemnos lap re-aquainted  me with two wheels, two days off to recharge an old battery had charged the craving to clock up k's.  A westerly massaged the ego out to the soup tin but the way back underlined the reality of work into the wind, time the ever present enemy to unearth a bit more effort.   

Someone must have yelled free beer!
Goats had gathered in numbers not seen since March!  Dippa, Phil, Belly, Hommie, Snowman, Sandy and Heady filled the Friars footpath, even Mitch had returned to repeat a ride.  Does that make him dedicated or delirious?

Dippa did the Heady thing to lead us out of town, JB and DeepFry the surprise additions at SPC (shaking off their hibernation)   Two lines struggled to form nearing a foggy Dobson's estate, Belly launching a breakaway of Jens Voight proportions (clearly motivated by the breeze up the backside).  Well, that turned the formation back to Indian file, most happy to let him get away 'cause Central Ave's traffic would most likely shut his move down. 

Hommie had the hurry-up's too but it was that David Bowie thing at work again (I wondered if there'd be that sort of enthusiasm on the way west on River Rd?)  Two rows finally found favor as the mob steered south onto Boundary Rd, Mitch surprisingly following me on the advance line to the front (the cacophony of flapping clothes a dead give-away ; we must get the lad in lycra if he's to blend in with the bunch)  Thought he was fighting Heady for ownership rights to the caboose?  Dippa had called his turn quits at the foggy fig farm, so I rolled across to inherit Mitch as a co-pilot in pace.  Play fair Foss, he's new.  That westerly was wearing away his wattage wather wapidly!  All the signs showed ; onto the drops, nose to the headstem, a grab at another gear.  I called him across and gave a little more space as his battle with the breeze continued, Coggo kindly rolling across to donate a draft and avoid an imminent implosion.  Ah, we all start somewhere....

Hommie, Sandy, JB and Phil went on the advance while I was demoted rearward, that cruel clock driving me to exit via Channel Rd.  And I had a headwind homeward to boot! Keeping eyes off the speed (it tends to be the gauge of fitness....or far from it!) is a hard habit to break, I had focus fixed on the road ahead to avoid disappointment  but a glance at the Garmin soon gripped me.  Mid 30's, not so bad.  The heart rate slowly climbed and the speed slowly sank, so the bait of a red led ahead stirred some speed out of an emptying tank.  Ol' mate Blacky came into view (that soloist always going the other way) so slowing to swap several sentences was most timely.  Time though soon stole me away, turning up tempo again if I was to remain employed and more foggy patches to carve through homeward.  (with headlight turned to pulse for motorists mid-text / still sleeping / sans sense / not caring a continental)

2/10  Velocity volunteers.

My Scottish namesake (nearly) reckons we're flatter than Holland here, but we've nearly always got wind to make up for the lack of elevation.   And it's changing daily.  Yesterday a westerly, today a northeaster. Can't complain about the variety!  The headlights of PistolPete, Col, The Godfather, Tina, Kreeky, Bo, Joe (not Tony) and Kel cut into  the half light of 5:40 at Sanctuary's roundabout, Col breaking the protocol of Pistol's first turn, almost breaking bits off the back of the bunch in the opening k (Is Allan supplying the EPO?)   The Godfather captained the Mitchell Rd leg to Kialla Central, the northeaster making it's presence felt.  Didn't trouble PistolPete though, driving to River Rd at his standard speed. (swift)  Vince and The Rabbit had climbed aboard our little train while the wily wind had swung a little more easterly, just to extract a little more effort for our way toward Coach Rd.  Times like these you appreciate a little variety in the volunteers for velocity, the light and shade of pace a chance to draw in a little more oxygen before serving time at the front.   Kel retired rearward at the dip for Tina's turn toward the quarter horse stud, Kreeky doing his usual long drive to deliver us to Coach Rd.  

Hasn't Joe (not Tony) stepped up a rung or two! His position at the front (crown of the road to shelter the rear from that wind) was poised like a pro to tap out a tempo to the Broken bridges.  My turn.  That little downhill off the bridge got my shift off to a good start, happy those trees eased the pain up to Channel Rd but beyond needed horsepower to preserve the hurry. Lucky there was only a k left exposed to the highway.  Col was captain again beyond the Pub, whatever he had for breakfast did the trick all the way to Old Dookie Rd.  A couple of Cat collections cruised south, and was that a P&W re-union spinning a k behind?  Spring has stirred some to swing a leg over.  The Godfather had won the lottery of a tailwind west to School Rd, Pistol back in action for his charge to Central Ave.  It's a happier mindset with the breeze behind for the return to town, even though the legs and lungs labor at the extra pace, Vince so inspired he'd reached the drivers seat to spice the speed into town.  Bo kept us busy toward SPC, commonsense calming the hurry to roll relaxed to the Butter Factory for a fix.

This week 206km      YTD 8,101km