An earlier start joining Temple and Wozz in the small hours of Saturday, the rain reprieve allowing a supplementary circuit . The southerly squirt to Mitchell Rd intercepted Ron, Vince and Frido, smooth and steady to Central Kialla then east along the regularly ridden River Rd. Anne suddenly appeared on our tails, minus light voltage to soak up our lumens and draft. Nice to take a therapeutic warm up without blowing a headgasket, some social stimuli thrown in for good measure. We bid our adieu's at Channel Rd and headed west to intercept the Couldabeens, ably assisted by the strengthening easterly. Almost to Doyles Rd when two lines of l.e.d.'s approached, our cue to queue behind the 13 and enjoy another tow back to Boundary. Tap tap up Boundary and east in the dark to the toaster, first glimmers of dawn reached at the Toaster.
It was hoist the mainsail and keelhaul the cadence turning west at the Emu, the wind behind lifting the spirits with the velocity. Thirty wheels hummed happily along Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, not much pleasure showing in the faces of the dozen + Cats grimacing eastward. A rare opportunity knocked in Wanganui Rd cruising at the rear, no Rocket, Pistol boxed in AND a tail wind too good to pass up. I worded up Wozz to lead him out for an attack on Wanganui Hill, jumped at DECA's end to ramp up proceedings, peaking (and peeking 54 clicks) at Kittles Rd, I flicked an elbow for Wozz to wizz by, Shorty, Jase and Ange in futile pursuit behind. Calm brought the bunch back together to do a cruise to the cafe, Tuck's wardrobe malfunction, Sth African politics and quieter laps captivated conversation to polish off 70k's
It was a steamy spin to a conveniently convened Couldabeens cruise Monday, every red light delaying my arrival to squeak it in with just a minute to go. With only eight attendees, Jase and Pistol took the first shift moderately, I paired with Rocket from Orrvale Rd, an achievable ask at the calmer velocity. Trav was providing my tow at Hanlon Rd but I suddenly whacked an unseen pine cone, an airbourne Cosmic and handlebarred hand dislodged, speared me a metre into the grass. Still upright but tyres dragging in soft ground, taking a smooth line back onto terra firma was number one priority. Back onto tarmac after the off road excursion the h.r. needed a minute to calm from 170, normal transmission resumed (expecting a dozen bindii passengers but luckily got none). FeltMat and Temple drove to River Rd, a whisp of a ENE propelling the pace, early edition Cat tail-lights winking in the distance. Wozza drove well considering his Mt Buffalo attack yesterday, Temple on song and Jase with plenty of lead in his pencil, were Rocket and Pistol struggling to stay awake? I was suprised to get Rockets rollcall at Arcadia Downs, only Pistol, Jase, Wozz and I working the front in Conrod. Hardly a sprint finish but a good steady ride had all happy and not breathless (Kate running at the lake had a few drawing breath though)
Took an invite to board the tri train at the Verney/Ford station on Tuesday, Sootie, Stace and Comet on schedule at 5.10. Out to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd for the first of two interval sessions, a 3k hit on the heart rate then reassembling at the Emu. There was a south west nuisance to face to the Toaster then interval two on Old Dookie Rd with a reprieve at Boundary. A steady grind back to town, our arrival at Friars timed well to slot in mid field. It was an erratic start to the lap, traffic and a couple of yawning pack gaps turned the Goats into Brown's cows. Almost syncronised at Central Ave, the rubber banding returned, some reaching the front with little steam left. Strangely, some order returned facing the southwester in Boundary Rd, down to the pub to halt at the highway for a train (well, a Landcruiser with a loco horn). I had a mixed bag of who was ahead and behind as the k's and rotations claimed reartirements, adjusting to a Heinz variety of sits, styles and sizes. JamisShane had a battle du bidon as pace was primed in River road, into the steady groove of reasonable rotation by the dip. Bickers punctured at the back but scored the tasty pit crew of Stace and Comet for his trouble. Mt Nicolaci always seems to trigger an urge for polka dots, bums off seats in a flurry of cadence for supremacy. A cruise, post highway, calmed the heart rates and re-united the field (and shuffled the deck) but it was down to eight driving the train as we crossed Arcadia Downs Drive. Tum gapped the pack as he rolled across with 600 to go, so I filled the space to draw a breath for the final fling. Tum was running on empty fifteen seconds later so pulled out to pass (don't you love the OMG moment when cutting the fresh air is like head butting a brick wall?), pouring on the wattage as wheels howled in pursuit behind. A sneak peek behind saw the swarm of Dipper, Shane, Tum and Tina bearing down, hedaling for all I was worth to just grab the chocolates.
Alzheimers forgot charge the headlight overnight so flicked to low candlepower in the early hours to go the Wednesday distance. Ventured to Ford Rd then east to Boundary, resolved to keep to the 17 cog for some spin. A frog fugue in F flat and a cricket chorus was the auditory entertainment, possums into an early breakfast the visual on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd. Swung into Boundary Rd to be greeted by a southerly, the train tracks at Hill Rd are now sealed over but the ripple strips remain. Kept the head down to Channel Rd, bearing west a little easier but an eye was glued on the clock to meet a 6am Couldabeens start. A thin crescent of moon and limited lumens doesn't shed much light but familiar ground helps, soon to the school and finding FeltMat on his Couldabeens commute. A steady roll back to town and to Kialla's roundabout, a dozen indians congregating in a single row (guaging the headwind to Mitchell Rd and how to evade it?) Tucks and Shane took it on the chin, Rudy to Mitchell Rd. I paired level with his shiny new Avanti (AvantiTrev having an even newer example), Pistol's a half bike longer than my old rig. Johnnie and his two disciples flashing red l.e.d.'s in the distance was a lure to nibble upon, Nick and Whispering Jack swallowed the chase bait. River road was full of bikes westbound, all alien without daylight to identify. Boundary Rd had bunches and pairs still oncoming as Tucks then Shane then Rudy progressively added to the velocity, Johnnie and co keenly in tow at the back. I did a slow wind up in Channel to keep our bunch bonded, soon all were cranking to the fourties to the pine trees. The rich aroma of Chateau diesel with the fruity overtones of roasted Rimula X filled our nostrils, round the corner we scattered, suddenly up the arse of a fuming Fergie in total darkness with (peopled) fruit bins in tow. (Luck had us just past when an oncoming car fronted the next bend) Nerves had settled by the kinder, the guns now line astern, waiting for the first to move on the Cha Cha. Rudy's itch was greatest launching first, soon having a succession of hopefuls in pursuit. I took the cruise option with several likeminded, the bunch realigning for the tap home, my dessert a little squirt on the Bonanza to finish 62 k's (with the Cygolight still shining after two days hard labour)
98% humidity and one degree off the dew point at 16 degrees made a steamy start to Thursday, a slightly earlier start time to catch for the Couldabeens. Introductions to Eammon were made at the car park as the grid formed, I had the first shift with Wozz, so a slow warm up to speed in the first 1.3k. Rocket raised the bar incrementally on leg 2, but nothing would save Eammon going unceremoniously OTA (though he urged us to continue). Pistol hit the long puddle fair and square centre on leg 3 to rooster tail Trav, amusing the dry folk on the left line, I'd tucked in behind Temple's tow of tempo (peaking of late), matching him from the Broken bridges to River Rd certainly got the pot simmering. We'd made no gain on a solitary red tail-light a kilometre ahead, most of River Rd spent slowly turning up the heat in pursuit, proving one tough little engine to catch. Only thanks to Melbourne Rd traffic did we make real ground to finally identify Wizz as the dynamic driver exiting Roubaix. Sweat was overpowered by the aroma from the eucalypts as we wound into the mid fourties by the horse stud, turns shortening rapidly. Trav's seat post let out a loud squark on a small bump approaching Conrod (Kreek's creak crisis critically crippling Conrod crankability, crushing cadence cravings) as Rocket dragged us into the last k, Darwin's theory of evolution and survival of the fittest, single filing the bunch. Pistol, Wozz, Rocket and I swapped turns quickly, Rocket stepping up three rungs in the last 200 to relegate us to also ran's. (happy I could just hold off Pete for second)
Pedalled a prologue to Friday's Goat gyration, out the Boulevard and north to Rudd, then east on Wanganui, relishing the comfort finally found on the Fizik, just wish I knew what brought about the new found posterior paradise. Was it pelvic positioning? Imported chamois cream? Consumption of 2009 Shiraz? Or Pine-lime Splice ice-cream? Shall continue all. A smooth little tap around to limber limbs and a "blockie" to soak up five minutes till the Friars flag fell at 6 for a gallivant with the Goats. Coggo, Deb, Hommy, Sandy, Bickers, Speisy, Belly, Brendan, Heady, Leon and Baz formed up, I played co-pilot to Capt Deb taxi-ing out of the suburbs and winding up to rotate beyond the Doyles Rd runway. The dozen drove a smooth stretch to Boundary Rd, less numbers = less variation? A few sat in the rear stalls on River Rd, I flowed freely (Freerly?) through on Bazz's wheel, Belly a touch over enthused gapping the bunch on his roll-overs. Spiesy blew a head gasket on the Mt Nicolaci ascent but recovered on the easy roll once over the highway. Only four left working the front swinging into Conrod straight, Leon re-appeared for a brief blast. Coggo put in a strong turn from 600 to 300, I lent a tow from 300 to 100 then elbowed Coggo past, but he'd picked up a Hommy hitch hiker to challenge the victory. Soaked in sweat (purging alcohol?) Hommy wheezed a wheel ahead over the line, speechless till beyond the bridge.
Week 8 : 347 km YTD 2,135 km
Friday, February 20, 2015
Friday, February 13, 2015
Week 7 : Single files and getting the wood
Three days off the bike granted much comfort in the sit site but felt that rust was taking hold in the joints when I finally did swing a leg over. I faced the gentler Goat music on Tuesday, Couldabeens cadenza couldabeen chronic (and was, by Strava spying). The usual villans, legends and Capra Aegagrus Hircus had assembled at Friars, young guest Jarrod definitely youngest. Stace, Comet and Sootie intercepted from an earlier 30k's to join the string of l.e.d.'s leading out Old Dookie Rd, but it was down to a crawl approaching Doyles roundabout to prevent a title fight with a B double (a Hommy pump hunt debunked). Organised and rotationalised, twenty two cranked into easterly order with a moment here and there for four word sentences. Tina jumped aboard at Dobsons, Hommy had glued himself to my wheel (tactical positioning for Conrod?) and BigPaul left the obligatory gap. Felt in reasonable nick by the Broken bridges, cadence down on the 14 sprocket in River road as the tempo touched the fourties, good to see Deb roll through but the rear roll syncronicity suffered. We travelled Stress Free street in Central Kialla as the pace calmed but the urgency returned in Mitchell. Sootie peeled off to assist a stranded Jason inflate (short valve in a deep wheel), the bunch sorting into crank or cruise factions as we approached Arcadia Downs. Timing put me at the front with 500 metres of Conrod left, unable to shake Hommy off my wheel I hacked at his horsepower with a little weave, softening him for AvantiLeigh, Dipper and Coggo to pounce in the last 100.
Almost pulled the pin at 35 degrees Tuesday evening but regret would weigh heavily if i'd sucummed to the couch of sloth. A slow roll to the library found Coggo, Oz, Robbo, Dion, SpecialisedTony, Hamish and others prepared to tap a toasty toaster lap. It was pleasing to share the front with Coggo and start a sensible tap, MeridaAndy fronted for the Boulevard entree, an easterly swinging east northeast to make the lungs work toward the Emu. Well outmatched beside Hamish's special Specialised (NZ team colours) and Roval wheels, the young engine did Wanganui Rd with ease while I wheezed. We collected Carl and Pottsy then the MachineSteve, Trent, Trudy, Steevo and Hilly in Ford Rd, Birchy almost unrecognisable behind the Chuck Norris whiskers. Robbo aboard a demo Corsa, Coggo craving k's for a three peaks assault, Dion's creaky seat cured (with Robbo's allenkey assistance) and Pottsy had a quiver of questions. Easier going to the Toaster (Axel aboard) and on to Boundary Rd, Coggo & I drew the short straw of the swing to a southeaster for the bridges to River Road leg, catching a cruising Bo & Kel. Six kilometers of River Rd cruised in 9:48, speed kept to sensible in Mitchell Rd too, but fast was forecast seeing the drivers line up to take on Raftery. I'd retreated to the left line as we crossed the highway, almost on cue as the hurry up hit. Hamish, Trent, Steve, Robbo and Dion wound up the heart rates as the survivors single filed, Oz struggled with mechanical devils, MeridaAndy struck with a stitch ushered me past, my legs refusing to give more than 50 to stay in touch with the dozen ahead. A relaxed roll through town as the temperature tapered suitably settled the nerves.
A knee knock needed nursing in the opening kilometres of Wednesday morning, best to go gently on ageing limbs until up to operating temperatures (as if a tropical 20 degrees wasn't enough!) A single line of chary chaps had assembled at Kialla Lakes, maybe shying from the early shift of legs one and two? I took the role under a little sufference as seven more arrived with better timing than I, at least my pairing would be a considerate one beside Choppy. Johnnie and two mates were caught (and subsequently stayed aboard) at leg one's end, matching Rudy at the front to Mitchell skyrocketting my heart rate. Rocket, Jase, Shane and BigMat were absent, defecting to the Genesis side for a try out. It was punishment on the posterior hitting the Mitchell Rd rut dead centre after months of avoidance, up to River Rd with Whispering Jack and Pistol cracking the whip. Jase was found rising from the dip, seems Rocket was the sole survivor of the Giro de Genesis. There was a full changing of the guard in River Rd's length, Rudy assuming the role of pace setter (a wheel ahead) for Boundary Rd, Whispering Jack meeting his match (Pistol) for the grind to Channel Rd. The tarmac blurred under the wheels of progress to the ChaCha, an oncoming car interrupting the sprint but still managed 54 clicks. Northerners and southerners parted company at Channel Roads end, my prediction on Strava starvation coming true with trophies thinning (Cougar still scoring Q.O.M's though)
A cooler 17 degrees Thursday, plenty of southerly to grizzle about with Wozza on the 6k Couldabeens commute (a warm up turning into a worn out). Temple called a conference on start time alterations, all happy with an earlier Thursday launch. I berthed in a perfect pozzy (first turn at the front coming at Channel Rd's end) while Wozz winced being the thin meat in the Pistol/Rocket sandwich of speed. Rudy and Pistol opened proceedings but Rudy relinquished the role requiring respiratory restitution half way into leg one, Wozza stepping up to the plate of pace for the remainder and leg two. My last leg of Channel was timed neatly to be shielded from the Boundary southerly. Temple and Trav put in great shifts, my delight to share the driving with Nick in River Rd, respectfully levelling wheels to millimetre precision. Nearing Laws Drive a few fallen twigs were bounced off wheels distracting Rudy, failing to see the two metre branch recumbant in his path. Successfully skiddled (but nerves rattled) an ease of tempo re collected the fragmented bunch. Rocket way overqualified to lead, took us indian filed to Mitchell Rd. Doing justice to Wozza's and Pistols calibre emptied my tank from Archer to the highway, the pause for traffic heavensent for my cardiac recovery. Underway in Raftery (but minus Temple and WhisperingJack on an Archer exit) I got just enough composure time before the ubiquitous turn at the pointy end out of Conrods dipper. I was flogging a dead horse with 200 metres remaining, mercy finally arrived with Rocket's Cosmics howling past, Pistol and Rudy thrashing out second pickings in that order.
Anticipation was eager to tap out a quiet lap Thursday, breaking in Beejoy to the joys (and besets) of life aboard two wheels. A breeze behind in Old Dookie Rd made progress easy but the price to pay on the return was to dull the excitement. Suprised to have Tommygun draw alongside for a brief chat, a chance for congrats on his 3rd in age group for the recent half Triathlon. Over Boundary Rd and toward the toaster we crossed paths with the library lads cresting the bridge, north to the Emu feeling the breeze swing to a WSW urged some preparation for the effort to come. Overenthusiasm drove Beejoys brief blast into the 30's in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd but it busted the boiler quickly, metering out a steady pace a difficult thing to master for someone with just 8 rides done. Time and determination will teach. Back to civilisation he was well spent, but the enthusiasm and sense of achievement shone through, a memory revisited from earlier days again.
A Tour de Tassie culled the Goat population at Fridays Friars grid, Coggo, Dipper, Belly, Phil, Deb, Sandy and Bickers the only starters. Away at six bells and eastward, Tina's timing to tack-on (taking the teams tally to 9)twas truely tactical as the easterly wind whittled away the contenders to six drivers. There was less attrition southbound in Boundary but the effort was taxing enough to call a single filed assault in River Rd. Coggo put in ten tenths at the front, my turn was up again to drive to the channel bridge, thankful that Rudy's timber yard had been cleared from yesterday. Cramp claimed Deb in the Mitchell Rd accelleration, Bickers and Sandy joining her to take the abridged route via Archer. Handed the reigns at that intersection, I'd mentally primed to put in a long haul (grateful to have a brief intermission for traffic at the highway) down to the little bridge and round Roubaix corner I was trawling the depths of mental motivation by the horse stud, handing over to Belly, then sinking all into catching Coggo's wheel at the back. The leadership changed five times in a minute (and you thought the Labour Party had problems!), Coggo back in the hot seat for Conrod straight, but the noddies took hold with 300 metres remaining, reluctantly I took the candy from the baby, finishing a pacy lap.
Week 7 272km YTD 1,788 km
Almost pulled the pin at 35 degrees Tuesday evening but regret would weigh heavily if i'd sucummed to the couch of sloth. A slow roll to the library found Coggo, Oz, Robbo, Dion, SpecialisedTony, Hamish and others prepared to tap a toasty toaster lap. It was pleasing to share the front with Coggo and start a sensible tap, MeridaAndy fronted for the Boulevard entree, an easterly swinging east northeast to make the lungs work toward the Emu. Well outmatched beside Hamish's special Specialised (NZ team colours) and Roval wheels, the young engine did Wanganui Rd with ease while I wheezed. We collected Carl and Pottsy then the MachineSteve, Trent, Trudy, Steevo and Hilly in Ford Rd, Birchy almost unrecognisable behind the Chuck Norris whiskers. Robbo aboard a demo Corsa, Coggo craving k's for a three peaks assault, Dion's creaky seat cured (with Robbo's allenkey assistance) and Pottsy had a quiver of questions. Easier going to the Toaster (Axel aboard) and on to Boundary Rd, Coggo & I drew the short straw of the swing to a southeaster for the bridges to River Road leg, catching a cruising Bo & Kel. Six kilometers of River Rd cruised in 9:48, speed kept to sensible in Mitchell Rd too, but fast was forecast seeing the drivers line up to take on Raftery. I'd retreated to the left line as we crossed the highway, almost on cue as the hurry up hit. Hamish, Trent, Steve, Robbo and Dion wound up the heart rates as the survivors single filed, Oz struggled with mechanical devils, MeridaAndy struck with a stitch ushered me past, my legs refusing to give more than 50 to stay in touch with the dozen ahead. A relaxed roll through town as the temperature tapered suitably settled the nerves.
A knee knock needed nursing in the opening kilometres of Wednesday morning, best to go gently on ageing limbs until up to operating temperatures (as if a tropical 20 degrees wasn't enough!) A single line of chary chaps had assembled at Kialla Lakes, maybe shying from the early shift of legs one and two? I took the role under a little sufference as seven more arrived with better timing than I, at least my pairing would be a considerate one beside Choppy. Johnnie and two mates were caught (and subsequently stayed aboard) at leg one's end, matching Rudy at the front to Mitchell skyrocketting my heart rate. Rocket, Jase, Shane and BigMat were absent, defecting to the Genesis side for a try out. It was punishment on the posterior hitting the Mitchell Rd rut dead centre after months of avoidance, up to River Rd with Whispering Jack and Pistol cracking the whip. Jase was found rising from the dip, seems Rocket was the sole survivor of the Giro de Genesis. There was a full changing of the guard in River Rd's length, Rudy assuming the role of pace setter (a wheel ahead) for Boundary Rd, Whispering Jack meeting his match (Pistol) for the grind to Channel Rd. The tarmac blurred under the wheels of progress to the ChaCha, an oncoming car interrupting the sprint but still managed 54 clicks. Northerners and southerners parted company at Channel Roads end, my prediction on Strava starvation coming true with trophies thinning (Cougar still scoring Q.O.M's though)
A cooler 17 degrees Thursday, plenty of southerly to grizzle about with Wozza on the 6k Couldabeens commute (a warm up turning into a worn out). Temple called a conference on start time alterations, all happy with an earlier Thursday launch. I berthed in a perfect pozzy (first turn at the front coming at Channel Rd's end) while Wozz winced being the thin meat in the Pistol/Rocket sandwich of speed. Rudy and Pistol opened proceedings but Rudy relinquished the role requiring respiratory restitution half way into leg one, Wozza stepping up to the plate of pace for the remainder and leg two. My last leg of Channel was timed neatly to be shielded from the Boundary southerly. Temple and Trav put in great shifts, my delight to share the driving with Nick in River Rd, respectfully levelling wheels to millimetre precision. Nearing Laws Drive a few fallen twigs were bounced off wheels distracting Rudy, failing to see the two metre branch recumbant in his path. Successfully skiddled (but nerves rattled) an ease of tempo re collected the fragmented bunch. Rocket way overqualified to lead, took us indian filed to Mitchell Rd. Doing justice to Wozza's and Pistols calibre emptied my tank from Archer to the highway, the pause for traffic heavensent for my cardiac recovery. Underway in Raftery (but minus Temple and WhisperingJack on an Archer exit) I got just enough composure time before the ubiquitous turn at the pointy end out of Conrods dipper. I was flogging a dead horse with 200 metres remaining, mercy finally arrived with Rocket's Cosmics howling past, Pistol and Rudy thrashing out second pickings in that order.
Anticipation was eager to tap out a quiet lap Thursday, breaking in Beejoy to the joys (and besets) of life aboard two wheels. A breeze behind in Old Dookie Rd made progress easy but the price to pay on the return was to dull the excitement. Suprised to have Tommygun draw alongside for a brief chat, a chance for congrats on his 3rd in age group for the recent half Triathlon. Over Boundary Rd and toward the toaster we crossed paths with the library lads cresting the bridge, north to the Emu feeling the breeze swing to a WSW urged some preparation for the effort to come. Overenthusiasm drove Beejoys brief blast into the 30's in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd but it busted the boiler quickly, metering out a steady pace a difficult thing to master for someone with just 8 rides done. Time and determination will teach. Back to civilisation he was well spent, but the enthusiasm and sense of achievement shone through, a memory revisited from earlier days again.
A Tour de Tassie culled the Goat population at Fridays Friars grid, Coggo, Dipper, Belly, Phil, Deb, Sandy and Bickers the only starters. Away at six bells and eastward, Tina's timing to tack-on (taking the teams tally to 9)twas truely tactical as the easterly wind whittled away the contenders to six drivers. There was less attrition southbound in Boundary but the effort was taxing enough to call a single filed assault in River Rd. Coggo put in ten tenths at the front, my turn was up again to drive to the channel bridge, thankful that Rudy's timber yard had been cleared from yesterday. Cramp claimed Deb in the Mitchell Rd accelleration, Bickers and Sandy joining her to take the abridged route via Archer. Handed the reigns at that intersection, I'd mentally primed to put in a long haul (grateful to have a brief intermission for traffic at the highway) down to the little bridge and round Roubaix corner I was trawling the depths of mental motivation by the horse stud, handing over to Belly, then sinking all into catching Coggo's wheel at the back. The leadership changed five times in a minute (and you thought the Labour Party had problems!), Coggo back in the hot seat for Conrod straight, but the noddies took hold with 300 metres remaining, reluctantly I took the candy from the baby, finishing a pacy lap.
Week 7 272km YTD 1,788 km
Monday, February 9, 2015
Week 6 Pondering history and alarms alas
The possible return of BigMat occupied grid discussion Saturday morning, but of course an attack of acedia, disinclination, slothfulness and apathy had yet again struck to make him absent. PistolPete, Cougar, Rocket, Shorty, Wozza, Tucks, Rudy, Temple, Jen, Nick, AvantiTrev, Jase and AvantiChris were at least motivated and enthused to set forth in Channel Rd, Cougar driving the first leg admirably. AvantiTrev with recovered wrist now needs legs and lungs back to form, but there's no such problem for the usual engines Rocket and Pete. A puncture halted proceedings in Boundary Rd, many congregating to sledge Rudy's tyre & tube skills and C02 struggle (to his credit the new tube held). A respectable speed out to the toaster witnessed another postcard sunrise, the southerly helping our tour to the Emu. FeltMat was found oncoming in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd (something about an eyelid malfunction when the snooze button was activated) soon after the Cat carnival coursed east. The SSW breeze kept a few away from serving time at the front, plenty of capable drivers kept us on schedule though. Eagerness into Wanganui Rd split the bunch at DECA but all were reaquainted on the Rudd Rd recovery after the dash for honours on the hill. Rocket's hashtag win to spend time with MrEvans and co, BigMat sledging and jockey wheel joviality occupied the Lemontree chat. A welcome visit from Irongirls Kylie and Weapon, Genesis berthing at the next table to view Nev's MTB battlescars.
Put in a solo spin on Monday, nothing quite like a stiff southerly to start the day (and squash the self assurance), out Knight St and onto Old Dookie Rd, Cats yet to assemble at 5.45. Many memories of this circuit surfaced on the trek east, big P&W bunches ('08-09), flyblown puncture repairs ('14), the first lap on the BM ('04), the big '51 stack (7/6/13), Jamies aerial aerobatics ('13).....ages me thinking about it. Nearing the end of Old Dookie Rd, Vince and the big guns were westbound in search of feline prey, my effort south on Boundary Rd was hampered by 28km/h gusts, chain on the 17 to maintain some forward motion. Pistol Pete was seen lapping up the tailwind northbound at the bridges, my head lowering in a vein attempt to keep 32 clicks on the Garmin southward. Relief in River Rd, but kept the heart rate ticking over at 160, the puncture-delayed Breakaway quadrella crested the channel bridge east as I developed a minor case of feline flinch, the steadily increasing glance back predicting a pussycat peleton tsunami. Glad the breeze had backed off to 18km/h for Central Kialla and somewhat optomistic in Mitchell Rd with no l.e.d. armada in sight behind, cadence continued to the highway, blessed by a traffic free crossing. Restitution out of Roubaix with the breeze behind, the legs found a little more to add to the cruising speed, crossing the Conrod finish as the Cats dipped into the dipper.
Like a fly up the nostril, wind really annoyed the 6k commute to the Couldabeens start line Tuesday morning. The long awaited (twenty) second coming of BigMat brought nearly all Couldabeens out to witness (ironic that WhisperingJack was absent). I drew the short straw on speed paired with Chris A but a sudden peak in traffic halted our Channel Rd entry. The account opened on pace, a string of big guns line astern guaranteed some huff and puff. Another wait for traffic at Doyles Rd, the long train (15) stretched on corners and intersections. PistolPete arrived from the south as we turned into Boundary Rd, plenty of happy chaps at the rear of the bunch sheltered from the wind (SSE @ 15 km/h), Mark marked by Rocket at the front for the procession south. River Road's velocity soon caught a cruising Bo & Kel (using PistolPete's alarm clock?), squeezing past with oncoming cars and bikes. My second turn at the front with Chris A (Captain Considerate) was manageable following a short shift with Shorty. BigMat attacked in Central Kialla but the message of four dislodged from the back failed to reach the drivers (yet more traffic at the highway allowed the rear gunners to eventually reform). Nudging the mid 40's at the horse stud put a mental load on surviving two more kays at that rate, Chris A, Rocket, Bo,Shane and Pistol slowly marching away from the majority, now single filed into survival on Conrod straight. Nick's elbow was working overtime for a successor to tow the remaining as a big gap opened ahead, racked with remorse I took the towing task for the last 600, suprised to reel in Pistol (no ammunition left) at the last dip. A ten second slow at the bridge allowed the tail end troopers to gather, forming a team tour through town to rekindle unity.
Chose a tough position on Wednesdays Kialla grid, beside Pistol with 22-39km/h of SSE to battle in leg 2 of Archer Rd (Pistol perhaps worn at the edges by Rocket on leg one my only salvation). Shane made sure I kept speechless in Mitchell Rd as us ten toured east, then it was hoist the mainsails for a blast north to River Rd with the wind providing plenty of push. I'd hoped to miss a call of duty in River Rd but the roll overs quickened to put me at the front with Pete for the last k. Shane pumped up the pace in Boundary in his standard position (a bike ahead), small bumps jarring my wrists and rear end in the mid fourties (how was it on carbon comfort?). A nice steady screw of the wick in Channel Rd kept us well ahead of the agenda, scoring a magic spot at the back of the pack as we cranked into the Cha Cha, Rocket and Pistol as the perfect tow. Crossing Prentice Road I couldn't match the 50+ Rocket Rumba or Shanes late launch (but rounding up PistolPete was a rare enlargement for the ego). Back into town, a new strip of hot mix in Railway parade inspired an attack on the Shepp High sprint, a luscious lead out from Wozza gave me an equal time to Nev (51.3 average) for another pump to the pride. Might need a bigger helmet?
It was super smooth street tucked in behind Comet, bit like drafting a matchstick but her 80mm carbonaria soundtrack hummed happily east on Old Dookie with the Goats Thursday morning. Twenty two heads counted once JB and Tina jumped aboard at Dobsons estate, 39 clicks on the upside and 37 on the downside propelled the peleton toward Boundary Rd. Hommy boot scooted across Central Ave with a cleat malfunction, Tum clearly chuffed with the velocity of the new Felt, all with a donation to rotation kept the kettle on the boil. I had Heady ahead, no dread, enough said, thankfully Mr Magnet was a safe distance away. There was no protest about the breeze in the face southbound on Boundary, my steady idle in River Rd (138 bpm 41 km/h @ 65 rpm) was testament to smooth turns. The habitual ease on "wait for Dave" corner gave most a breather, but muscular motivation magnified on Mitchell as Kate was unceremoniously hung out to dry by Mr Magnet cresting Mt Nicolaci. A truck without headlights caused a moment at the highway, but all were back to winding up the watts for Roubaix, finding Snowman hitching a ride. It was cooking calves nicely by the horse stud, we passed Deb (Bazza's tardiness forcing a shortcut) as I pondered peleton position pertaining to possible podium placement. Boxed in and 8 wheels back with 600 metres of Conrod left hampered hopes, but a sliver of salvation came with Coggo leaving a little real estate in the up lane. Position, position, position they say, so signalled out and jumped on board as Tum wound up the Felt touching 50, pouncing a perfect slingshot to shoot by and claim the chocolates.
A baptism for Beejoy Thursday night, a quiet 30k roll with the apprentice learning the ropes aboard Trav's old faithful. Takes me back to the early days when there was much to learn (grasshopper), keen to show a brief turn of speed (but a rapid retirement of lungs), at least he can hold a straighter line than some with years of experience. The sense of achievement, the excitement of self propulsion, sights and sounds (missed in a car) now discovered, a new found freedom and a playground for the mind to wander, all things we soon forget or lose focus on down the path of time. Nice to enjoy that again albeit from a different perspective, a quiet lap within zones one and two literally a rare breath of fresh air.
Whats App drew Coggo, Snow, Skinner, Sandy, Hommy and Belly together at Friars on Friday morning. Getting rotationally organised out Old Dookie Rd and syncronising a perfect passage through Doyles roundabout was halted by a Hommy whistle, punctured. It was stand-up comedy when his unco-operative C02 pump was flung in frustration into the weeds, but calm was restored to repair, underway a few minutes later and keen to get the agenda back on track. Sandy then Skinner retreated to the rear, Coggo hit the N0s nearing School Rd, with Belly minus the horsepower to match (I donated the big fella a tow to Boundary in the interest of team survival). A call for single file put me first in line to face the southeaster, Snow taking a Channel Rd exit for a promised breakfast date left just six to slog out the circuit. Skinner re-appeared to put in a good turn to the bridges, my number up again to redline to River Rd. All six contributed to a good speed to Central Kialla but the edges were getting a bit worn at Mitchell's end. Timing again put me at the helm for Conrod straight, burning all my biscuits with 500 to go handed Coggo the finish line, Hommy brashly challenging on the undertaking side.
Week 6 299km YTD 1,516 km
Put in a solo spin on Monday, nothing quite like a stiff southerly to start the day (and squash the self assurance), out Knight St and onto Old Dookie Rd, Cats yet to assemble at 5.45. Many memories of this circuit surfaced on the trek east, big P&W bunches ('08-09), flyblown puncture repairs ('14), the first lap on the BM ('04), the big '51 stack (7/6/13), Jamies aerial aerobatics ('13).....ages me thinking about it. Nearing the end of Old Dookie Rd, Vince and the big guns were westbound in search of feline prey, my effort south on Boundary Rd was hampered by 28km/h gusts, chain on the 17 to maintain some forward motion. Pistol Pete was seen lapping up the tailwind northbound at the bridges, my head lowering in a vein attempt to keep 32 clicks on the Garmin southward. Relief in River Rd, but kept the heart rate ticking over at 160, the puncture-delayed Breakaway quadrella crested the channel bridge east as I developed a minor case of feline flinch, the steadily increasing glance back predicting a pussycat peleton tsunami. Glad the breeze had backed off to 18km/h for Central Kialla and somewhat optomistic in Mitchell Rd with no l.e.d. armada in sight behind, cadence continued to the highway, blessed by a traffic free crossing. Restitution out of Roubaix with the breeze behind, the legs found a little more to add to the cruising speed, crossing the Conrod finish as the Cats dipped into the dipper.
Like a fly up the nostril, wind really annoyed the 6k commute to the Couldabeens start line Tuesday morning. The long awaited (twenty) second coming of BigMat brought nearly all Couldabeens out to witness (ironic that WhisperingJack was absent). I drew the short straw on speed paired with Chris A but a sudden peak in traffic halted our Channel Rd entry. The account opened on pace, a string of big guns line astern guaranteed some huff and puff. Another wait for traffic at Doyles Rd, the long train (15) stretched on corners and intersections. PistolPete arrived from the south as we turned into Boundary Rd, plenty of happy chaps at the rear of the bunch sheltered from the wind (SSE @ 15 km/h), Mark marked by Rocket at the front for the procession south. River Road's velocity soon caught a cruising Bo & Kel (using PistolPete's alarm clock?), squeezing past with oncoming cars and bikes. My second turn at the front with Chris A (Captain Considerate) was manageable following a short shift with Shorty. BigMat attacked in Central Kialla but the message of four dislodged from the back failed to reach the drivers (yet more traffic at the highway allowed the rear gunners to eventually reform). Nudging the mid 40's at the horse stud put a mental load on surviving two more kays at that rate, Chris A, Rocket, Bo,Shane and Pistol slowly marching away from the majority, now single filed into survival on Conrod straight. Nick's elbow was working overtime for a successor to tow the remaining as a big gap opened ahead, racked with remorse I took the towing task for the last 600, suprised to reel in Pistol (no ammunition left) at the last dip. A ten second slow at the bridge allowed the tail end troopers to gather, forming a team tour through town to rekindle unity.
Chose a tough position on Wednesdays Kialla grid, beside Pistol with 22-39km/h of SSE to battle in leg 2 of Archer Rd (Pistol perhaps worn at the edges by Rocket on leg one my only salvation). Shane made sure I kept speechless in Mitchell Rd as us ten toured east, then it was hoist the mainsails for a blast north to River Rd with the wind providing plenty of push. I'd hoped to miss a call of duty in River Rd but the roll overs quickened to put me at the front with Pete for the last k. Shane pumped up the pace in Boundary in his standard position (a bike ahead), small bumps jarring my wrists and rear end in the mid fourties (how was it on carbon comfort?). A nice steady screw of the wick in Channel Rd kept us well ahead of the agenda, scoring a magic spot at the back of the pack as we cranked into the Cha Cha, Rocket and Pistol as the perfect tow. Crossing Prentice Road I couldn't match the 50+ Rocket Rumba or Shanes late launch (but rounding up PistolPete was a rare enlargement for the ego). Back into town, a new strip of hot mix in Railway parade inspired an attack on the Shepp High sprint, a luscious lead out from Wozza gave me an equal time to Nev (51.3 average) for another pump to the pride. Might need a bigger helmet?
It was super smooth street tucked in behind Comet, bit like drafting a matchstick but her 80mm carbonaria soundtrack hummed happily east on Old Dookie with the Goats Thursday morning. Twenty two heads counted once JB and Tina jumped aboard at Dobsons estate, 39 clicks on the upside and 37 on the downside propelled the peleton toward Boundary Rd. Hommy boot scooted across Central Ave with a cleat malfunction, Tum clearly chuffed with the velocity of the new Felt, all with a donation to rotation kept the kettle on the boil. I had Heady ahead, no dread, enough said, thankfully Mr Magnet was a safe distance away. There was no protest about the breeze in the face southbound on Boundary, my steady idle in River Rd (138 bpm 41 km/h @ 65 rpm) was testament to smooth turns. The habitual ease on "wait for Dave" corner gave most a breather, but muscular motivation magnified on Mitchell as Kate was unceremoniously hung out to dry by Mr Magnet cresting Mt Nicolaci. A truck without headlights caused a moment at the highway, but all were back to winding up the watts for Roubaix, finding Snowman hitching a ride. It was cooking calves nicely by the horse stud, we passed Deb (Bazza's tardiness forcing a shortcut) as I pondered peleton position pertaining to possible podium placement. Boxed in and 8 wheels back with 600 metres of Conrod left hampered hopes, but a sliver of salvation came with Coggo leaving a little real estate in the up lane. Position, position, position they say, so signalled out and jumped on board as Tum wound up the Felt touching 50, pouncing a perfect slingshot to shoot by and claim the chocolates.
A baptism for Beejoy Thursday night, a quiet 30k roll with the apprentice learning the ropes aboard Trav's old faithful. Takes me back to the early days when there was much to learn (grasshopper), keen to show a brief turn of speed (but a rapid retirement of lungs), at least he can hold a straighter line than some with years of experience. The sense of achievement, the excitement of self propulsion, sights and sounds (missed in a car) now discovered, a new found freedom and a playground for the mind to wander, all things we soon forget or lose focus on down the path of time. Nice to enjoy that again albeit from a different perspective, a quiet lap within zones one and two literally a rare breath of fresh air.
Whats App drew Coggo, Snow, Skinner, Sandy, Hommy and Belly together at Friars on Friday morning. Getting rotationally organised out Old Dookie Rd and syncronising a perfect passage through Doyles roundabout was halted by a Hommy whistle, punctured. It was stand-up comedy when his unco-operative C02 pump was flung in frustration into the weeds, but calm was restored to repair, underway a few minutes later and keen to get the agenda back on track. Sandy then Skinner retreated to the rear, Coggo hit the N0s nearing School Rd, with Belly minus the horsepower to match (I donated the big fella a tow to Boundary in the interest of team survival). A call for single file put me first in line to face the southeaster, Snow taking a Channel Rd exit for a promised breakfast date left just six to slog out the circuit. Skinner re-appeared to put in a good turn to the bridges, my number up again to redline to River Rd. All six contributed to a good speed to Central Kialla but the edges were getting a bit worn at Mitchell's end. Timing again put me at the helm for Conrod straight, burning all my biscuits with 500 to go handed Coggo the finish line, Hommy brashly challenging on the undertaking side.
Week 6 299km YTD 1,516 km
Friday, January 30, 2015
Week 5 : A chronic case of wind
It was catch up conversation with Wozza on Saturday morning, the last months news relayed in the commute to the car park for Saturdays social. Our early arrival saw the bunch filter in, Jase, AvantiChris, Cougar, Shorty, Pistol, Rudy, Shazza, Trav, Dion and yet another come-back from Whispering Jack. A six-pack of 51's/ Mexicans had filtered quietly into Channel Rd as our grid formed, big bait to lure our Channel Rd effort. Wozz drove the first leg but felt the pain of 4 weeks off, a little SSW breeze aiding us breaking the speed limit once set, but now forgotten? To the end of Channel and up to the Pub, 51 & co (on a quiet pre race cruise?) were caught and passed, attaching to our rear for a tow. A scenic sunrise to view in Old Dookie Rd, sunrays piercing the horizons clouds to start the weekend on a positive, good to see all having a dip at the front, in form or out of it. Nath's flouro shoes stood out near the kennels in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, joining in to make us a bakers dozen, quite a few advance parties to the Cats (heads down or cruising) before the feline flotilla crossed our path at the channel. Wozza and Rudy were short in shift duty on Ford Rd, Shorty's lack of k's (work getting in the way of riding) inciting the noddies nearing the end of his turn. Close to DECA, the pace was unusually restrianed, Nath was boxed in, Dion at the back, Whispering Jack winding up the tempo on the front was all the ingredients I needed. Off the Fizik and flogging the chain on the 14, I attacked Wanganui hill at 50, finding a bit more urge when Rudy's wheel crept under my right arm, climbing the big ascent (must be at least 4 metres) as KOM for the day (albeit 29th overall). A fairly quick Saturday lap judging by the Strava trophy handouts studied at the Lemontree, the T.D.U., scooter spills and bike racks occupied the chat with breakfast consumed between sentences. Another early Goat get away, AvantiTrev (with wrecked wrist) arriving for social and stomach sustinance.
To cure the k cravings and Wozza's wanton withdrawals, a reverse lap of Saturdays' circuit unwound the scenery on Sunday. Abilities may have been gilded by the WNW guidance to the Emu, chewing over January's news for the jet setting Wozz to re find his legs. A muscular forecast of heavy toil was felt from the west as we turned toward the toaster, thighs tightened and lungs laboured in Old Dookie Rd, the slightest incline altering the climb catagory and only a 20 metre long rest on the descent from the channel bridge. Boundary Road was welcomed, easing the throttle a whisker in readiness for the Channel Rd headwind assult, but a bindii halted Wozza's wheel just short of the esses. Engulfed in a puncture perspiration pressure cooker but soon air conditioned by the breeze when underway a few minutes later, we ground away Channels k's, the wind relentless. Wozza's soft Continental (a very short valve wouldn't let the pump seal properly) had become a handbrake on his effort in the last leg, so I loaned a tow to bring forward our caffine infusion at the Lemontree, the perfect tonic to cure jellied legs.
On the border for the holiday Monday prompted a lap with the Cobram crew, meeting at Thompsons beach for a ride east. Over the river with Ray, Christian, Travis, Sharen, John, Frank and Pommy (and hoping to collect a few more), we hit the Mulwala Rd, up and over the Col du Boomanoomana (smashed by spring chicken Sharen), an undulating panorama of vineyards over the sandhills to take in. A clockwise echelon was eventually organised to make the best of the south southwesterly, the Yarrawonga lads arriving from the east in scattered numbers to fill our ranks to 16. Rotations halted at times for Ray, Christian and Travis chat sessions, several chosing to sit on the back rather than face the breeze. After an hours tap, we'd reached Mulwala in good time, a pit stop for coffee and usual bike talk by the lake. Only eight chose to return west, Pommy leading us on a scenic route home via the goat track,(Sloane Siding Rd- Draytons Rd-Carramar Rd) a carbon copy of Bells Armstrong but with patches on the patches and weeds growing from the crown of the road. The thin strip of tarmac snaked through the parched paddocks with a rise or two over little hills to pick up the heartrate. Finally to the Barooga back Rd I was on familiar ground, east on Coldwells Rd for a flog over Spud hill then on to Berrigan Rd., a chalked outline of a body on the tarmac a comical sledge to a recent racing spill. A southbound grind at the helm with Travis into the headwind back to Barooga capped off 83k.
Another headwind workout to the Couldabeens start on Tuesday (who needs hills with this wind!), Wozza, Rudy, Pistol, Shane, Kenworth and Rocket the only punters post holiday weekend. I'd opted to lead for leg one with Wozza then leg two with Rudy, the southerly (17-24 km/h) only a minor hinderance. A charging pooch at the kinder scattered two straight lines but we reformed unscathed, then played spot-the-tractor (defying death driving in the dark) at the pine trees, thankfully without contact. I'd played my rotation cards right, just avoiding the headwind on Boundary Rd, who better than Pistol & Rocket to take it for the team? In River rd, Rudy was shortening turns, Wozz paying the price of four weeks overseas and Shane suffering the effects of horizontal folk dancing the night before (nice excuse if you can get it) loaded the effort on a few, Rocket and Pistol having no trouble supplying the wattage to central Kialla. Kenworth then Shane dipped out on duty by Roubaix, Wozza packed it in at the horse stud, silly me took pity on Pistol shouldering the load at Arcadia Downs and went forward again for a contribution, the reality of slicing the air at the front draining the drive in mere metres. Rocket saved my skin taking the drivers seat into the Conrod dipper, all my watts were invested into hanging on (for grim death) at second wheel. Seventy seconds on the redline (186 bpm) wishing the finish would appear sooner (and wondering if Rocket has sugar on his breakfast nitrous oxide), Kenworth sneakily sprung from behind to peck for the podium pickings, snatching second by millimetres.
Off to the library Tuesday evening, the first chance in ages to re-aquaint with the Renegades, some guessing if guns would gather to thrash us, but a swift (35-48 km/h) southerly was the bigger threat. SpecialisedTony, Argon Dave, Karl, MeridaAndy, Oz, Luke, Paul and Ben opened the clockwise Toaster account, Andy & I taking the easy first leg, picking up LegalSteve at the golf course. An echelon was essential for the easterly leg to the Emu, speed up and down like a yoyo till survival sense took over. Nath joined in Ford Rd, Paul is out of character with just a few rides this year, ArgonDave freshly worn by TDU hills and foreigner (well, from Numurkah) Ben on a retro steel Paconi to make my old steed look new. Turning south at the Emu was as welcome as an coronary, the headwind crushing speed, hopes and legs, the gusts tossing wheels aside and scarring souls. Holding 30 + at the front was only for Nath and Luke, instantly installed as windbreaks to the Toaster. Fighting the side wind in Old Dookie to get the best draft put several wheels a bit close for comfort, happier to be straight into the headwind again on Boundary. The solitary (and suffering) figure of Axel was caught just before our swing into River Rd, no doubt our draft was as good as tattslotto for him. Another fight to keep straight in River Rd and avoid the flying tree debris tested the nerves, but I'd found a small second wind to maintain speed and composure. Plenty of relief rounding Roubaix and feeling the wind at our backs, up wound the knots with Luke and Nath raising the standards. The majority had strung out single file by Arcadia Downs, I just ground along steady midfield on the 13 to wait for the cadence chaos in Conrod. Punters advanced then retreated, engines expired and ratios were exhausted, I found third place open for the taking (the best I'd hope for) to finish a windswept lap happy.
A slower idle and a richer mixture (stronger coffee) saved a worn engine from a bent valve Wednesday morning, feeling a bit battered by the constant wind. The slow start built to moderate motoring with Wozz, but the Jase chase (distant lure of a tailight ahead) urged a push of pursuit, catching him just in time to halt for a red light repose. Mental scarring from last nights wind begged a midfield position for the Couldabeens, delighted to see Choppy and Tucks take the first leg honours of leading in Archer Rd, then enjoy the (mostly) tailbreeze of the anticlockwise loop. Whispering Jack came up to pair with me in River Rd, half a bike ahead his regular position. AvantiChris had Rocket to match but was kindly allowed a shorter turn, a rapid rate of knots taking it's toll on many. PistolPete and Shane declared a jihad in Boundary Rd, mid 40's keeping most speechless. Rocket led the charge of the bike brigade in Channel Rd, Whispering Jack added to the pace at the esses, so I took a half bike revenge on him to the pine trees (our oncoming black BMW villan minus headlights but at least in the correct lane today) Rotationally relegated to the rear as we hit the Cha Cha, I missed the sprint train and its carriages (Shane, Pistol, Rocket et al) so donated towing services to those dislodged from contention. The tailwind home gave a time bonus to enjoy extra calories of breakfast before work beckoned.
An almost full set of Goats departed Friars Thursday, snaking the streets to SPC and up to speed in Old Dookie Rd lured by Cat tail-lights ahead. Punctured Sully and Pitstop Keeno played traffic police at Central Ave, the Goat train driven smoothly at the front, but rubber banded at the back by sheer numbers. The southerly made little difference to progress in Boundary Rd with the load shared, a handbrake of compassion applied in River Rd for the rear gunners to re-attach, then resuming rotation nudging 40 for the 5k leg west. BigPaul controlled the front in Central Kialla for a recovery session, but it was back on the gas in Mitchell Rd, Belly slowing with a broke spoke split the bunch into time starved and time surplussed. I joined Tina, AvantiLeigh, Tum, Wozza, MrMagnet, Heady and Principal Skinner in the aforementioned bunch, driving on an agenda, MrMagnet stretching the pack (and the friendship) up Mt.Nicolaci. Through Roubaix and up to the horse stud visits to the pointy end increased as several sat back. Swinging into Conrod straight (Stress St, BallBuster Boulevard, Hernia Highway, call it as you will) Wozza wisely wound up the watts, Tina nearly chopped in half by an over enthused MrMagnet trying to get my wheel. I put in a big dip at the front as a pace payment for AvantiLeigh, a lead-out to render his account from last week, Leigh paid in full, taking the chocolates at the line.
WhatsApp pinged a Goat gathering again Friday, Coggo, LegalAndy, RetiredDave, Heady and Bickers making up a six pack to take on yet another unforgiving southerly. Out to Doyles Rd the indian file option was taken, Coggo taking the drivers seat and setting the standard. Sitting in the smooth wake of RetiredDave to Central Ave readied me for a long drive to Boundary, but shortened my turn a whisker for Bickers to escape a head wind turn in Boundary Rd. Coggo faced the music with gusto, Heady, LegalAndy then RetiredDave to Channel Rd for my turn down to One Tree dam, adding a wave (couldn't spare the oxygen) to the northbound Couldabeens. Bickers had gone a.w.o.l. when I tagged onto the rear, to River Rd the quinella continued, the breeze more bearable now from the side. Coggo hit the boost button in the last k, slower through "wait-for-Dave" corner to recouperate, the southerly seeming to have settled. Another turn from Archer Rd to the highway put me in the hot seat for Mt.Nicolaci (the worlds worst climber needs a polka Not jersey) , glad to get a pause at Melbourne Rd and partake of a large serve of oxygen. Shorter turns got us to the horse stud post haste and, yet again, I'd inherited the lead at Conrod's dipper. Sight of the blonde jogger quickly inspired Coggo's cadence, powering past to take line honours with ease while I wheezed.
Week 5 : 416 km YTD 1,217 km
Rider of the Week (remains unsolved, still with a two prized reward to the first correct answer)
Hint: the fairer sex
To cure the k cravings and Wozza's wanton withdrawals, a reverse lap of Saturdays' circuit unwound the scenery on Sunday. Abilities may have been gilded by the WNW guidance to the Emu, chewing over January's news for the jet setting Wozz to re find his legs. A muscular forecast of heavy toil was felt from the west as we turned toward the toaster, thighs tightened and lungs laboured in Old Dookie Rd, the slightest incline altering the climb catagory and only a 20 metre long rest on the descent from the channel bridge. Boundary Road was welcomed, easing the throttle a whisker in readiness for the Channel Rd headwind assult, but a bindii halted Wozza's wheel just short of the esses. Engulfed in a puncture perspiration pressure cooker but soon air conditioned by the breeze when underway a few minutes later, we ground away Channels k's, the wind relentless. Wozza's soft Continental (a very short valve wouldn't let the pump seal properly) had become a handbrake on his effort in the last leg, so I loaned a tow to bring forward our caffine infusion at the Lemontree, the perfect tonic to cure jellied legs.
On the border for the holiday Monday prompted a lap with the Cobram crew, meeting at Thompsons beach for a ride east. Over the river with Ray, Christian, Travis, Sharen, John, Frank and Pommy (and hoping to collect a few more), we hit the Mulwala Rd, up and over the Col du Boomanoomana (smashed by spring chicken Sharen), an undulating panorama of vineyards over the sandhills to take in. A clockwise echelon was eventually organised to make the best of the south southwesterly, the Yarrawonga lads arriving from the east in scattered numbers to fill our ranks to 16. Rotations halted at times for Ray, Christian and Travis chat sessions, several chosing to sit on the back rather than face the breeze. After an hours tap, we'd reached Mulwala in good time, a pit stop for coffee and usual bike talk by the lake. Only eight chose to return west, Pommy leading us on a scenic route home via the goat track,(Sloane Siding Rd- Draytons Rd-Carramar Rd) a carbon copy of Bells Armstrong but with patches on the patches and weeds growing from the crown of the road. The thin strip of tarmac snaked through the parched paddocks with a rise or two over little hills to pick up the heartrate. Finally to the Barooga back Rd I was on familiar ground, east on Coldwells Rd for a flog over Spud hill then on to Berrigan Rd., a chalked outline of a body on the tarmac a comical sledge to a recent racing spill. A southbound grind at the helm with Travis into the headwind back to Barooga capped off 83k.
Another headwind workout to the Couldabeens start on Tuesday (who needs hills with this wind!), Wozza, Rudy, Pistol, Shane, Kenworth and Rocket the only punters post holiday weekend. I'd opted to lead for leg one with Wozza then leg two with Rudy, the southerly (17-24 km/h) only a minor hinderance. A charging pooch at the kinder scattered two straight lines but we reformed unscathed, then played spot-the-tractor (defying death driving in the dark) at the pine trees, thankfully without contact. I'd played my rotation cards right, just avoiding the headwind on Boundary Rd, who better than Pistol & Rocket to take it for the team? In River rd, Rudy was shortening turns, Wozz paying the price of four weeks overseas and Shane suffering the effects of horizontal folk dancing the night before (nice excuse if you can get it) loaded the effort on a few, Rocket and Pistol having no trouble supplying the wattage to central Kialla. Kenworth then Shane dipped out on duty by Roubaix, Wozza packed it in at the horse stud, silly me took pity on Pistol shouldering the load at Arcadia Downs and went forward again for a contribution, the reality of slicing the air at the front draining the drive in mere metres. Rocket saved my skin taking the drivers seat into the Conrod dipper, all my watts were invested into hanging on (for grim death) at second wheel. Seventy seconds on the redline (186 bpm) wishing the finish would appear sooner (and wondering if Rocket has sugar on his breakfast nitrous oxide), Kenworth sneakily sprung from behind to peck for the podium pickings, snatching second by millimetres.
Off to the library Tuesday evening, the first chance in ages to re-aquaint with the Renegades, some guessing if guns would gather to thrash us, but a swift (35-48 km/h) southerly was the bigger threat. SpecialisedTony, Argon Dave, Karl, MeridaAndy, Oz, Luke, Paul and Ben opened the clockwise Toaster account, Andy & I taking the easy first leg, picking up LegalSteve at the golf course. An echelon was essential for the easterly leg to the Emu, speed up and down like a yoyo till survival sense took over. Nath joined in Ford Rd, Paul is out of character with just a few rides this year, ArgonDave freshly worn by TDU hills and foreigner (well, from Numurkah) Ben on a retro steel Paconi to make my old steed look new. Turning south at the Emu was as welcome as an coronary, the headwind crushing speed, hopes and legs, the gusts tossing wheels aside and scarring souls. Holding 30 + at the front was only for Nath and Luke, instantly installed as windbreaks to the Toaster. Fighting the side wind in Old Dookie to get the best draft put several wheels a bit close for comfort, happier to be straight into the headwind again on Boundary. The solitary (and suffering) figure of Axel was caught just before our swing into River Rd, no doubt our draft was as good as tattslotto for him. Another fight to keep straight in River Rd and avoid the flying tree debris tested the nerves, but I'd found a small second wind to maintain speed and composure. Plenty of relief rounding Roubaix and feeling the wind at our backs, up wound the knots with Luke and Nath raising the standards. The majority had strung out single file by Arcadia Downs, I just ground along steady midfield on the 13 to wait for the cadence chaos in Conrod. Punters advanced then retreated, engines expired and ratios were exhausted, I found third place open for the taking (the best I'd hope for) to finish a windswept lap happy.
A slower idle and a richer mixture (stronger coffee) saved a worn engine from a bent valve Wednesday morning, feeling a bit battered by the constant wind. The slow start built to moderate motoring with Wozz, but the Jase chase (distant lure of a tailight ahead) urged a push of pursuit, catching him just in time to halt for a red light repose. Mental scarring from last nights wind begged a midfield position for the Couldabeens, delighted to see Choppy and Tucks take the first leg honours of leading in Archer Rd, then enjoy the (mostly) tailbreeze of the anticlockwise loop. Whispering Jack came up to pair with me in River Rd, half a bike ahead his regular position. AvantiChris had Rocket to match but was kindly allowed a shorter turn, a rapid rate of knots taking it's toll on many. PistolPete and Shane declared a jihad in Boundary Rd, mid 40's keeping most speechless. Rocket led the charge of the bike brigade in Channel Rd, Whispering Jack added to the pace at the esses, so I took a half bike revenge on him to the pine trees (our oncoming black BMW villan minus headlights but at least in the correct lane today) Rotationally relegated to the rear as we hit the Cha Cha, I missed the sprint train and its carriages (Shane, Pistol, Rocket et al) so donated towing services to those dislodged from contention. The tailwind home gave a time bonus to enjoy extra calories of breakfast before work beckoned.
An almost full set of Goats departed Friars Thursday, snaking the streets to SPC and up to speed in Old Dookie Rd lured by Cat tail-lights ahead. Punctured Sully and Pitstop Keeno played traffic police at Central Ave, the Goat train driven smoothly at the front, but rubber banded at the back by sheer numbers. The southerly made little difference to progress in Boundary Rd with the load shared, a handbrake of compassion applied in River Rd for the rear gunners to re-attach, then resuming rotation nudging 40 for the 5k leg west. BigPaul controlled the front in Central Kialla for a recovery session, but it was back on the gas in Mitchell Rd, Belly slowing with a broke spoke split the bunch into time starved and time surplussed. I joined Tina, AvantiLeigh, Tum, Wozza, MrMagnet, Heady and Principal Skinner in the aforementioned bunch, driving on an agenda, MrMagnet stretching the pack (and the friendship) up Mt.Nicolaci. Through Roubaix and up to the horse stud visits to the pointy end increased as several sat back. Swinging into Conrod straight (Stress St, BallBuster Boulevard, Hernia Highway, call it as you will) Wozza wisely wound up the watts, Tina nearly chopped in half by an over enthused MrMagnet trying to get my wheel. I put in a big dip at the front as a pace payment for AvantiLeigh, a lead-out to render his account from last week, Leigh paid in full, taking the chocolates at the line.
WhatsApp pinged a Goat gathering again Friday, Coggo, LegalAndy, RetiredDave, Heady and Bickers making up a six pack to take on yet another unforgiving southerly. Out to Doyles Rd the indian file option was taken, Coggo taking the drivers seat and setting the standard. Sitting in the smooth wake of RetiredDave to Central Ave readied me for a long drive to Boundary, but shortened my turn a whisker for Bickers to escape a head wind turn in Boundary Rd. Coggo faced the music with gusto, Heady, LegalAndy then RetiredDave to Channel Rd for my turn down to One Tree dam, adding a wave (couldn't spare the oxygen) to the northbound Couldabeens. Bickers had gone a.w.o.l. when I tagged onto the rear, to River Rd the quinella continued, the breeze more bearable now from the side. Coggo hit the boost button in the last k, slower through "wait-for-Dave" corner to recouperate, the southerly seeming to have settled. Another turn from Archer Rd to the highway put me in the hot seat for Mt.Nicolaci (the worlds worst climber needs a polka Not jersey) , glad to get a pause at Melbourne Rd and partake of a large serve of oxygen. Shorter turns got us to the horse stud post haste and, yet again, I'd inherited the lead at Conrod's dipper. Sight of the blonde jogger quickly inspired Coggo's cadence, powering past to take line honours with ease while I wheezed.
Week 5 : 416 km YTD 1,217 km
Rider of the Week (remains unsolved, still with a two prized reward to the first correct answer)
Hint: the fairer sex
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Week 4 : Testing time trials and Wobblitis returns!
A daily double was planned Saturday, touring the side streets to soak up time en route to the Couldabeens start. A dozen in the congregation included Breakaways Shazz and Jen, but minus the regular Rocket, resting for the evening Criteium. Underway at 6, we'd gained quickly on a cruising quadrella of Simon, Bo, Kel and Ron, adding to a long train at the kinder for the lap. I'd scored a pairing with Pistol again, no hope of a cruisy turn at the helm. Tucks, Temple, Shorty, Nick, Cougar, Jase, Shane and FeltMat all put in the wattage to keep the bunch mobile, Jen and Shazz are the Cheshire cats stepping up several rungs from their regular ride (how soon we forget our early days of achievement , pumped surviving a circuit with a faster bunch). The early mornings cool 13 degrees distracted thoughts of recent 37 degree afternoons, but a strengthening southwesterly made work for the long leg home in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd. We finally found Rocket quietly idling along Ford Rd, tacking onto the rear of the bunch for a tow home. Another thrash up Wanganui hill by the eager stretched out the pack, but it reformed quickly in Rudd Rd to return to the Lemontree base camp. No time for coffee, the Goats had launched early from Friars (escaping an influx of uninvited apprentices), southbound to Raftery for a reverse of the usual week day Goat lap. Longer turns allowed sentences rather than words with Dipper, Hommy, Bazz, Sandy, LegalAndy, Deb, Tonksy, SpecialisedTony and MeridaAndy, but only minimal words with WobblyTrev to avoid distracting his line. River Rd was easy with the winds help, at the helm up to the end with Dipper then MeridaAndy, skirting around the ripple strips nearing Boundary Rd. (but this slight deviation unfocussed WobblyTrev, suddenly BMXing through the tabledrain...incredibly, upright) At Old Dookie Rd factions split. some westward home to coffee, others keen (so it seemed) to tour to the toaster. Only MeridaAndy, Dipper, Specialised Tony and I had taken the eastward option, the mathematics of few doing plenty changed hearts quickly, the vote was to chase the westward bunch (now a k ahead) home. Unplanned and unspoken, a single file formed intuitavely in pursuit, into zone 5 rapidly for a kilometre, I was greatful for Andy taking the drivers seat after my contribution. We reeled in Tonksy by Central Ave, and rejoined the others by Doyles, after some determined driving, coffee and convivial conversation continued at Friars.
Manged a peek at the Shepp Criterium on Saturday, Dion, Rocket, Nath, Robbo, Nev and other assorted top guns putting on a top show of rapid riding in A&B grades (photos to head this and forthcoming blogs)
A rare slice of normal life taken Sunday and Monday, the bike gathering cobwebs as legs regained feeling.
Weaved my way through a flotilla of early morning garbage trucks (and the awakening aroma) to Friars on Tuesday, ten Goats assembled for the usual 30k, Coggo back from holiday to lead the train out of town. JB and Tina were collected in the first leg to Doyles Rd, decent progress made east considering the northeasterly hinderance. I'd scored a good sandwich between smooth Principal Skinner and smoother Tina, new face Anton showing early signs of an engine misfire. The turn into Boundary Rd was Christmas on a stick, but the oncoming black car beyond the pub was saving energy without headlights (and intelligence?) We'd caught a wandering LegalAndy south of the bridges, Anton now joining the reartiring at the back of the bunch. The River Rd leg took a little time to get organised but soon was spearing west without sparing the horses, a bit difficult to keep the drivers up the road to echelon some ease to those behind. A little calm was restored in Central Kialla, Snow soon winding up the wattage to Mitchell (unwittingly splitting the bunch). Eight resumed the rotation in Mitchell to power to the highway, JB's astute call for traffic saving much bacon. The wind wore down many in just 2 k's, it was left to just JB and I pointing into Conrod, out of dipper and facing 20 km/h of headwind to wear down the enthusiasm. Belly emerged from the back with Snow in tow, thrashing out the last 200 for glory.
A rare easterly blew on Wednesday, at least it signalled a tail wind home on the Wednesday/Friday reverse Couldabeens circuit. Rocket, Tucks, Pistol, SuperMario, Nick, AvantiChris, Rudy, Chops, Cougar and Shane filled the roundabout path, enough attending to make light work of the task to Boundary Rd. Genesis, an OTA Ron, the Breakaways and a big Cat pack filled River Rd, me lucky to have put a turn in before the headwind leg. Six Goats plied south at the bridges on Boundary, I pondered the pace with our pack primed by the tailwind homeward. As is customary, the Cha Cha got the troops excited, SuperMario launching an all out effort, only to be swamped by Rocket, Shane and Rudy for Strava supremacy. Calm reigned till Kensington, just couldn't help myself to have a brief dip to the bus stop to clear the cobwebs.
Started Thursday with a puncture repair, waking to a flat craved conversation with the imbeciles impoverished of i q who decorated the street with smashed stubbies. The commute to the Couldabeens was spent investigating the wind direction, a promised northeaster had evolved into an eastsoutheast. Only Shane and recent inductee Rudy were at the car park, Pistol then Trav the only other starters arriving. My vote for a team time trail was accepted unanimously, Shanes' 38 km/h ammendment was tabled for leg one and two, but then defeated in the senate for leg 3 (figured I could manage 41 km/h to the kinder without passing out). Trav and Pete drove to Boundary Rd, Rudy to the Broken bridges where I was handed the reigns again. The wind added a couple of clicks to the cruising speed in River Road (my h.r. in neutral at 85 bpm with the heart rate strap drowned in sweat), Pistol firing strongly to the channel bridge, crossing paths with a handful of early risen Muppets. Rudy has quickly fitted in with turns strong and steady, the smooth and straight recipe easily digested when you're just a few centimetres off the wheel ahead in the 40's. I began to feel the wear and tear at Archer Rd, leaving a little in reserve to jump aboard the rear of the little train as the four passed with the cue from my elbow. Down to walking pace at the highway for traffic, Pistol considerately and gently dialling up the heat to Roubaix. Shane's call for rapid roll overs lasted just seconds, back to track turns and mid fourties by the horse stud. I was handed the lead at Conrod's dipper (again, of course!), the longest 700 metres ever measured, but just couldn't latch onto Shane & Rudy in the last 200 for glory. A solid workout at a 38.8 km/h average for just five.
A soft option sleep-in on Freaky Friday finalised the week.
Week 4 220 km YTD 801 km
Rider of the week
(no bites on last weeks puzzle, clues too cryptic it seems to identify AvantiLeigh. Two prizes await this weeks first correct answer.)
Former petrol station attendant, lover of lasagne, a one eyed helmet needing renewal, blue & black bike.
Manged a peek at the Shepp Criterium on Saturday, Dion, Rocket, Nath, Robbo, Nev and other assorted top guns putting on a top show of rapid riding in A&B grades (photos to head this and forthcoming blogs)
A rare slice of normal life taken Sunday and Monday, the bike gathering cobwebs as legs regained feeling.
Weaved my way through a flotilla of early morning garbage trucks (and the awakening aroma) to Friars on Tuesday, ten Goats assembled for the usual 30k, Coggo back from holiday to lead the train out of town. JB and Tina were collected in the first leg to Doyles Rd, decent progress made east considering the northeasterly hinderance. I'd scored a good sandwich between smooth Principal Skinner and smoother Tina, new face Anton showing early signs of an engine misfire. The turn into Boundary Rd was Christmas on a stick, but the oncoming black car beyond the pub was saving energy without headlights (and intelligence?) We'd caught a wandering LegalAndy south of the bridges, Anton now joining the reartiring at the back of the bunch. The River Rd leg took a little time to get organised but soon was spearing west without sparing the horses, a bit difficult to keep the drivers up the road to echelon some ease to those behind. A little calm was restored in Central Kialla, Snow soon winding up the wattage to Mitchell (unwittingly splitting the bunch). Eight resumed the rotation in Mitchell to power to the highway, JB's astute call for traffic saving much bacon. The wind wore down many in just 2 k's, it was left to just JB and I pointing into Conrod, out of dipper and facing 20 km/h of headwind to wear down the enthusiasm. Belly emerged from the back with Snow in tow, thrashing out the last 200 for glory.
A rare easterly blew on Wednesday, at least it signalled a tail wind home on the Wednesday/Friday reverse Couldabeens circuit. Rocket, Tucks, Pistol, SuperMario, Nick, AvantiChris, Rudy, Chops, Cougar and Shane filled the roundabout path, enough attending to make light work of the task to Boundary Rd. Genesis, an OTA Ron, the Breakaways and a big Cat pack filled River Rd, me lucky to have put a turn in before the headwind leg. Six Goats plied south at the bridges on Boundary, I pondered the pace with our pack primed by the tailwind homeward. As is customary, the Cha Cha got the troops excited, SuperMario launching an all out effort, only to be swamped by Rocket, Shane and Rudy for Strava supremacy. Calm reigned till Kensington, just couldn't help myself to have a brief dip to the bus stop to clear the cobwebs.
Started Thursday with a puncture repair, waking to a flat craved conversation with the imbeciles impoverished of i q who decorated the street with smashed stubbies. The commute to the Couldabeens was spent investigating the wind direction, a promised northeaster had evolved into an eastsoutheast. Only Shane and recent inductee Rudy were at the car park, Pistol then Trav the only other starters arriving. My vote for a team time trail was accepted unanimously, Shanes' 38 km/h ammendment was tabled for leg one and two, but then defeated in the senate for leg 3 (figured I could manage 41 km/h to the kinder without passing out). Trav and Pete drove to Boundary Rd, Rudy to the Broken bridges where I was handed the reigns again. The wind added a couple of clicks to the cruising speed in River Road (my h.r. in neutral at 85 bpm with the heart rate strap drowned in sweat), Pistol firing strongly to the channel bridge, crossing paths with a handful of early risen Muppets. Rudy has quickly fitted in with turns strong and steady, the smooth and straight recipe easily digested when you're just a few centimetres off the wheel ahead in the 40's. I began to feel the wear and tear at Archer Rd, leaving a little in reserve to jump aboard the rear of the little train as the four passed with the cue from my elbow. Down to walking pace at the highway for traffic, Pistol considerately and gently dialling up the heat to Roubaix. Shane's call for rapid roll overs lasted just seconds, back to track turns and mid fourties by the horse stud. I was handed the lead at Conrod's dipper (again, of course!), the longest 700 metres ever measured, but just couldn't latch onto Shane & Rudy in the last 200 for glory. A solid workout at a 38.8 km/h average for just five.
A soft option sleep-in on Freaky Friday finalised the week.
Week 4 220 km YTD 801 km
Rider of the week
(no bites on last weeks puzzle, clues too cryptic it seems to identify AvantiLeigh. Two prizes await this weeks first correct answer.)
Former petrol station attendant, lover of lasagne, a one eyed helmet needing renewal, blue & black bike.
Friday, January 16, 2015
Week 3 ; Exercise to exorcise
Saturdays pre dawn rain wrecked regular religious riding rituals, renedered ruinous regretably, reclining restitution reinstated resolutely, reaping restful relaxation & rectal recovery (really!) relished, not till Monday did the opportunity present to ride. Fronted to SPC's roundabout where the only punters were Meags and Princess, a smooth, calm and collected start to the week a fitting formula for me. Princess had hauled the TT Felt out from mothballs, the 80mm Sram's hollow howl humming a happy tune. Pistol was seen warming up his week northbound at the Broken bridges, not till River roads' end did the Cat squad reel us in (restfectfully), suprised to see flouro Matho and G off the back by 50 metres. Mo, Furph and another were another 100 behind, climatising to life back aboard two wheels. By Mitchell, Furph had resigned to join our quiet tap, the first ride in ages i'd kept below anaerobic.
Negatives had the upper hand over positives on Monday arvo, a stiff NE wind with 34 degrees adding to the grief, but a deep desire to clock some k's before Tuesdays forecast drowned us. Hanging on to the puny positives, I set forth on the Boulevard with a longer lap aim, slicing through the headwind in Wanganui playing mental mind games of abandonment, stubborness setting an easterly quarry goal, 20k away. Thoughts of a Dookie target was dumped in a nanosecond feeling the wind at my back at Cosgrove's hole in the ground, a Camel lap a better alternative. There was a mobile sheep chicane at the Camel farm (hoo roo ewe, running at 34km/h) before the turn south on Cosgrove-Caniambo, Michelins hissing a long note on the soft and sticky tarmac, a 10k tailwind reprieve for recovery. Managed a reasonable rate of knots on the seemingly endless strip of skinny tarmac that is Bells-Armstrong Rd, but emerging from a short tree lined shelter was a touch testy with the wind now northerly. The course stone and sealed-over bumps wore at the wrists and sit site (the downside of a stiff alloy frame), dead snakes and windswept bark made for challenging deciphering for 12 long k's. The old stomping ground of Mitchell Rd (untouched for six months) began to toll on the cruising speed, slowly whittling away as muscles complained and determination wained, a distant bike at the Kialla Central intersection the only bait to bouy the battle on. Rounding Roubaix emptied the resoluteness tank, pressed the belief button for a short lived burst, then relied on the angry tank, just to hold an ordinary speed in Conrod. With legs limp, lungs lame and heartrate hysterical, there was an agonising 7k crawl up the main drag to home, 1,442 calories spent on 70 k's, just to gloat on a 232 Strava sufferfest and grin in guiltfree gastronomy.
I'd almost committed to a sleep-in Tuesday, forecast showers at 5am failed to front, so swung a creaking leg over the bike to cruise to the Couldabeens, a strong northeaster spelling a fast lap (not the ideal antidote for last nights' dip). A garrison of Genesis guns (Nev, Ron, Kel & Bo) had joined the Couldabeens contingent, Chris A, Cougar, Temple, BigMat, Rocket, Kenworth, Pistol, Chops and Trav, FeltMat arriving at Kensington (taking SuperMario's tail-light role). The nasty northeaster taxed us in Channel, me the lucky one with a Kenworth tow after front-of-house duty. Bliss in Boundary but work to do in River with Rocket, Nev and Temple driving in the 40's. BigMat pulled the pin on the driving duty with Bo, leaving me the task to match him in Central Kialla Rd, word of a bunch split wasn't delivered to the front till the turn into Mitchell, so a calmer cadence got the group back together. By Archer the pace was back on the boil, I was blessing the 56 ring even without little cotton socks. By Roubaix my legs had lost the will to live, so hitched a tow behind Ron, only Rocket, Nev, ChrisA and Pistol keeping the motion up as the pack stretched single file into Conrod, finishing fifth fortunate in such company . Paused at the Raftery bridge, not to swing punches but to wait a few seconds for the tailenders (those who give 100% for the whole lap), solidarity for the roll through town an important conclusion (wish others would do likewise)
A pair of Pro 4's and a chain put new life into the old steed Wednesday (too wet to head out for me but not for some die hards) 5,700 k's with just one puncture not a bad run. Thursday's fourteen degrees drew the arm warmers out of mothballs to group with the Goats, Hommy handing out hugs as the grid gathered. A cool cruise through town gathered the faithful to get the rotation happening in Old Dookie Rd, Big Paul's gargantuan gap to AvantiLeigh, Sandy, Leon, Dipper, Bazza, Deb, Tum, Kate, Principal Skinner (back aboard the restored Trek #1), Heady and Snow. All calm and collected to Boundary Rd and for the drive south into the breeze, ripping into River with the heartrate ticking over at 140 felt easy, hitting the front at 40+ should be this easy always (but sadly it aint). BigPaul was preaching the peleton protocols to Leon in Central Kialla, BigBen was found cruising at Archer. There were slim sprint pickings at Arcadia Downs with just a handful in contention into Conrod, AvantiLeigh at the helm, Dipper as second fiddle with Tum headed toward the front (his intention was for the afirmative but lax legs won the argument for negative) quickly tucking in for a tow in the gap I left. In a perfect spot at 4th wheel, I pounced with 200 metres left, the new chain hopping on the 12 so spun the 13 to take the chocolates.
Soaking up the sublime serenity on an early mission to the Emu on Friday, there was just one car and one rabbit to share the tarmac with. It was great to tune the little grey cells to tapping out a few k's rather than the worry of work or life's little niggles. Essential escapism, esoteric enlightenment, excercise to exorcise. A cool 10 degrees and yippee! windfree westward from the toaster at zone 4 back toward town, finding a balooning bunch of Breakaways (but brandishing a bloke?) departing suburbia, Cats commencing a freaky Friday fracas a k behind. I'd located Meags and Princess at SPC, Fee chiming in a text of mechanical apology (an unchained melody?) so a menagerie a trois took a short lap of Old Dookie-Boundary-Channel to polish off the week the way it started.
Week 3 261km YTD 581km
Rider of the Week
(dialling up the difficulty now, Kenworth quickly identifying Pistol Pete as last weeks man of mystery)
Blue/white bike, Giro hat, loves ravioli, worked on Heathrow's T5
Negatives had the upper hand over positives on Monday arvo, a stiff NE wind with 34 degrees adding to the grief, but a deep desire to clock some k's before Tuesdays forecast drowned us. Hanging on to the puny positives, I set forth on the Boulevard with a longer lap aim, slicing through the headwind in Wanganui playing mental mind games of abandonment, stubborness setting an easterly quarry goal, 20k away. Thoughts of a Dookie target was dumped in a nanosecond feeling the wind at my back at Cosgrove's hole in the ground, a Camel lap a better alternative. There was a mobile sheep chicane at the Camel farm (hoo roo ewe, running at 34km/h) before the turn south on Cosgrove-Caniambo, Michelins hissing a long note on the soft and sticky tarmac, a 10k tailwind reprieve for recovery. Managed a reasonable rate of knots on the seemingly endless strip of skinny tarmac that is Bells-Armstrong Rd, but emerging from a short tree lined shelter was a touch testy with the wind now northerly. The course stone and sealed-over bumps wore at the wrists and sit site (the downside of a stiff alloy frame), dead snakes and windswept bark made for challenging deciphering for 12 long k's. The old stomping ground of Mitchell Rd (untouched for six months) began to toll on the cruising speed, slowly whittling away as muscles complained and determination wained, a distant bike at the Kialla Central intersection the only bait to bouy the battle on. Rounding Roubaix emptied the resoluteness tank, pressed the belief button for a short lived burst, then relied on the angry tank, just to hold an ordinary speed in Conrod. With legs limp, lungs lame and heartrate hysterical, there was an agonising 7k crawl up the main drag to home, 1,442 calories spent on 70 k's, just to gloat on a 232 Strava sufferfest and grin in guiltfree gastronomy.
I'd almost committed to a sleep-in Tuesday, forecast showers at 5am failed to front, so swung a creaking leg over the bike to cruise to the Couldabeens, a strong northeaster spelling a fast lap (not the ideal antidote for last nights' dip). A garrison of Genesis guns (Nev, Ron, Kel & Bo) had joined the Couldabeens contingent, Chris A, Cougar, Temple, BigMat, Rocket, Kenworth, Pistol, Chops and Trav, FeltMat arriving at Kensington (taking SuperMario's tail-light role). The nasty northeaster taxed us in Channel, me the lucky one with a Kenworth tow after front-of-house duty. Bliss in Boundary but work to do in River with Rocket, Nev and Temple driving in the 40's. BigMat pulled the pin on the driving duty with Bo, leaving me the task to match him in Central Kialla Rd, word of a bunch split wasn't delivered to the front till the turn into Mitchell, so a calmer cadence got the group back together. By Archer the pace was back on the boil, I was blessing the 56 ring even without little cotton socks. By Roubaix my legs had lost the will to live, so hitched a tow behind Ron, only Rocket, Nev, ChrisA and Pistol keeping the motion up as the pack stretched single file into Conrod, finishing fifth fortunate in such company . Paused at the Raftery bridge, not to swing punches but to wait a few seconds for the tailenders (those who give 100% for the whole lap), solidarity for the roll through town an important conclusion (wish others would do likewise)
A pair of Pro 4's and a chain put new life into the old steed Wednesday (too wet to head out for me but not for some die hards) 5,700 k's with just one puncture not a bad run. Thursday's fourteen degrees drew the arm warmers out of mothballs to group with the Goats, Hommy handing out hugs as the grid gathered. A cool cruise through town gathered the faithful to get the rotation happening in Old Dookie Rd, Big Paul's gargantuan gap to AvantiLeigh, Sandy, Leon, Dipper, Bazza, Deb, Tum, Kate, Principal Skinner (back aboard the restored Trek #1), Heady and Snow. All calm and collected to Boundary Rd and for the drive south into the breeze, ripping into River with the heartrate ticking over at 140 felt easy, hitting the front at 40+ should be this easy always (but sadly it aint). BigPaul was preaching the peleton protocols to Leon in Central Kialla, BigBen was found cruising at Archer. There were slim sprint pickings at Arcadia Downs with just a handful in contention into Conrod, AvantiLeigh at the helm, Dipper as second fiddle with Tum headed toward the front (his intention was for the afirmative but lax legs won the argument for negative) quickly tucking in for a tow in the gap I left. In a perfect spot at 4th wheel, I pounced with 200 metres left, the new chain hopping on the 12 so spun the 13 to take the chocolates.
Soaking up the sublime serenity on an early mission to the Emu on Friday, there was just one car and one rabbit to share the tarmac with. It was great to tune the little grey cells to tapping out a few k's rather than the worry of work or life's little niggles. Essential escapism, esoteric enlightenment, excercise to exorcise. A cool 10 degrees and yippee! windfree westward from the toaster at zone 4 back toward town, finding a balooning bunch of Breakaways (but brandishing a bloke?) departing suburbia, Cats commencing a freaky Friday fracas a k behind. I'd located Meags and Princess at SPC, Fee chiming in a text of mechanical apology (an unchained melody?) so a menagerie a trois took a short lap of Old Dookie-Boundary-Channel to polish off the week the way it started.
Week 3 261km YTD 581km
Rider of the Week
(dialling up the difficulty now, Kenworth quickly identifying Pistol Pete as last weeks man of mystery)
Blue/white bike, Giro hat, loves ravioli, worked on Heathrow's T5
Friday, January 9, 2015
Week 2 Soon striving Strava starved?
Found BigMat then Weapon en-route to Saturdays lap, cool commuting company on a balmy 23 degree morning. Breakaways Shazza and Jen had taken tenacity to join with Cougar, Jase, Trav, Rocket, Whispering Jack and Nick (returning from holiday hiatus) Dion, Shorty, PistolPete, Tucks (tuckered out from New Years extremism), AvantiTrev and SuperMario (last of course) for a windy (20+km/h northerly) slog out Channel Road. Good to have four lasses tame the testosterone in a swollen Saturday bunch, Nath taking the population to 18 at the fig farm. Shazza tried to wriggle out with an Old Dookie road retreat back home, but sledging threats and a measure of mental motivation convinced her to stay aboard. AvantiTrev short shifted a turn, Nath and Pistol compared cadence on the toil to the toaster. I went easy on the throttle with Pistol to the church but word was slow to reach us that a few had detached. Dion took the church-to-channel Strava stage while I hung back to group the tailenders back on board, peristroika prevailed at the Emu with the bunch bonded, the speed slowly wound up for the tailwind treck back home. Tapping along at 40 was good for the ego (no AvantiTrev complaints), Cats having a hard drive east against our westerly windfall. Goats and Muppets were killing k's easterly and early to beat the heat, Nath, Dion, Rocket, BigMat and Pistol pouring on the power at DECA in the struggle for Strava supremacy on the Wanganui hill. Calm descended in Rudd road for a collective cruise to coffee, scuttlebutt on prangs, bogans and k.o.m.'s filled the ears while breakfast filled stomachs.
A southerly cranked up the cardiac cadenza for a late called Couldabeens circuit on Monday. Only Rocket, Pistol, Jase, Temple and FeltMat at the carpark, I'd tucked neatly between Temple (on a Port Mac road trip recovery) and FeltMat (suffering a severe bout of post coastal holiday) with Rocket, Pistol and Jase towing us gradually up to speed for an eased intro to the working week. FeltMat and I paid the headwind price of leading from the kinder, pleased that Temples turn didn't blow my head gasket up to the S bend. Boundary road and southbound, FeltMat retired from service at the bridges, handing me Pistols' pacy wheel to match for River Rd. the northbound Shazza and Cougar the only Breakaways brave enough to battle the anti-clockwise lap. 1600 metres matching Pete and ignoring the pleas of legs and lungs to give up, my mental motivation was just about empty when Pete thankfully called a roll over. Temple did a short shift, Jase and Rocket continued at warp speed, the last k of River Rd almost endless at 174bpm beside Pistol again. The 1.8 k's beside Jase wore down the resolve, Rocket calling an indian file as we turned into Mitchell. I gave another brief burst from the highway to Roubaix, flicked an elbow then spent a lot of steam into staying aboard as the five passed by. Rocket lit the afterburners at Arcadia Downs forcing all heads down, Temple and FeltMat soon gapped, I sank all into survival behind Pete to finish, pooped but pleased.
The forecast for the weeks end looked bleak so switched the routine to gallivant with Goats on Tuesday, and there were Goats galore gathering at Friars. Heard Heady's happy holiday hyperbole on the roll toward Old Dookie as two dozen formed up two lines to do battle. Muppet Matt, Joe and MeridaAndy were new faces to the midweek Goat train, ironfolk Stace, Sootie and Comet got the rotations organised by Dobsons estate, despite the yawning abyss left by BigPaul's hangback. Deb performed the perfect roll call at the back as the bunch wound up the knots in Boundary Rd. A four word sentence was just possible on the River Rd roll as the rear stalls slowly filled with expirees, plenty of elation in rotation dictation as the 26 speared west. Predicting my possible Conrod position while driving out of Roubaix was being constantly readjusted as more retreated to hang on at the back, there were only about 10 left with legs to drive at the front as we descended the dipper in the closing k. With Coggo, Andy and Tina ahead, thoughts of Hommy looming large behind fuzzied my focus, Andy bolted with 500 to go! I kicked the Mavics like a mule to shake Hommy from my draft and set about the chase to young Andy (with a 30 year advantage, no respect for his elders), regretting my Garmin glance (189bpm @ 54km/h) that threw doubt on a success. Andy, suddenly afflicted with the noddies at 100 metres to go was the silver lining, slipped into his draft for a moment to draw a short breath, then power past to cross a rather blurry edged finish first, speechless till the bridge.
There were tropical temperatures to start Wednesday, streaks of orange light pierced the eastern horizon to post a picturesque prologue for the Kialla Couldabeens ride. I joined the grid with 2 minutes to spare but lined up as the masochist meat in a Rocket and Pistol sandwich of speed, SuperMario's arrival on the death knock of 6 saved me (positioned as the salad in that sandwich) FeltMat and Trav took the leading role to River Rd, my cranial calculations put me with Pete battling the Kialla Central northeast breeze, not so bad with plenty of tree shelter as it happened, but Pete still managed to put half a bike on me (Daniel lives on in another form!) Feeling fried by River Roads channel bridge, SuperMario likewise with plenty of huff and puff on the roll over. Everyone who owned a bike was on it westbound on River Rd this morning (the Breakaway bunch blossoming to 11), must have seen Thursday's forecast rain coming? We barrelled into Boundary, more bikes bunched large and small oncoming, and up to Channel Road for a favourable leg back to town. Second last wheel at the kinder, a speed lead to the Cha Cha by Shorty and Trav, and a bonus breeze behind was just too tempting, my squirt of speed at Prentice road lit up the wheels to 54 but the inspired intensity imploded with Rockets' sizzling slingshot past, delivering a lethal dose of reality to put me back in the slow box. Couldabeens congealed to tap the last leg back to Archer, many with the luxury of time to add a coffee stop before home.
There was little life left in the self motivation battery Thursday morning, but a damp forecast for the weeks end inspired a few amperes to arise at 4.45. Copious Kellogs Cadnium Crispies consumed to harden up for a toaster lap, bunch banter socially satisfies but solo slogs strengthen (maybe mentally maims?). The eternal drag out to the Emu facing the northeaster had me trawling the depths of effort, craving the tailwind reward, spinning dervishly on the 17 tooth sprocket at 80 rpm. Twas vunderbah heading south, a crimson sunrise south of Mt Major a sign of inclemency to come? A duo of DuraAce clicks put the chain onto old faithful 14 to grind west from the Toaster, a breakfast sonata of squealing pigs drowning out my Cosmic chorus. I wondered if my timing would intercept the Couldabeens at Channel Rd but 6.05 was a bit ahead of schedule. I detect sweat spots on specs in River road, but it was the heavens slowly opening to deliver bike and I a decent drench, the rooster tail of wheel water prompting my phone to be shifted to a drier spot. Almost refreshed and certainly cooled at the dipper, I had a blow dry from the breeze (now more northerly) by Rivers' end. With wattage waining I eased off the throttle to Mitchell Rd, saving something for Conrod's headwind. A few peeks behind saw a track devoid of Couldabeens, Cats or Goats, it was the turkeys driving without headlights that was the oncoming worry. Emptying the last drops of energy in Conrod, I soaked up Strava's generous January 2015 trophies (worth the 162 suffer score?) but wonder what anguish if February sees us striving Strava starved?
Suprised by a dry Friday morning, an opportunity to squeeze a lap in begged. My heartrate had vanished from the Garmin screen (checked I wasn't dead) but soon realised the sensor was upside down Miss Jane. Righted and re-instated, I cranked east in Knight Street (freaky feline free) and through the SPC roundabout into Old Dookie, desolate and devoid of Hurt Locker or Breakaways. Damn wind (ENE) hindered a decent speed till Boundary, by the Pub it had swung SSE. There were a few puddles to avoid (to keep the posterior powder dry), at least comfort has been found on the Fizik after months of being a pain in the......... A very grey start to the day and not a bike to be seen till two neat lines of Couldabeens were found eastward in River Rd. On course for an early finish, I was suprised to find a bit left in the tank for a 40+ push in Conrod, a swansong for a rain ruined weekend?
Week 2 : 277km YTD 320km
Rider of the Week : more cryptic this week after the clever Cougar solved last weeks [Weapon] within hours.
174cm tall, black bike, Louis Garneau shoes, once worked at Vic Roads.
A southerly cranked up the cardiac cadenza for a late called Couldabeens circuit on Monday. Only Rocket, Pistol, Jase, Temple and FeltMat at the carpark, I'd tucked neatly between Temple (on a Port Mac road trip recovery) and FeltMat (suffering a severe bout of post coastal holiday) with Rocket, Pistol and Jase towing us gradually up to speed for an eased intro to the working week. FeltMat and I paid the headwind price of leading from the kinder, pleased that Temples turn didn't blow my head gasket up to the S bend. Boundary road and southbound, FeltMat retired from service at the bridges, handing me Pistols' pacy wheel to match for River Rd. the northbound Shazza and Cougar the only Breakaways brave enough to battle the anti-clockwise lap. 1600 metres matching Pete and ignoring the pleas of legs and lungs to give up, my mental motivation was just about empty when Pete thankfully called a roll over. Temple did a short shift, Jase and Rocket continued at warp speed, the last k of River Rd almost endless at 174bpm beside Pistol again. The 1.8 k's beside Jase wore down the resolve, Rocket calling an indian file as we turned into Mitchell. I gave another brief burst from the highway to Roubaix, flicked an elbow then spent a lot of steam into staying aboard as the five passed by. Rocket lit the afterburners at Arcadia Downs forcing all heads down, Temple and FeltMat soon gapped, I sank all into survival behind Pete to finish, pooped but pleased.
The forecast for the weeks end looked bleak so switched the routine to gallivant with Goats on Tuesday, and there were Goats galore gathering at Friars. Heard Heady's happy holiday hyperbole on the roll toward Old Dookie as two dozen formed up two lines to do battle. Muppet Matt, Joe and MeridaAndy were new faces to the midweek Goat train, ironfolk Stace, Sootie and Comet got the rotations organised by Dobsons estate, despite the yawning abyss left by BigPaul's hangback. Deb performed the perfect roll call at the back as the bunch wound up the knots in Boundary Rd. A four word sentence was just possible on the River Rd roll as the rear stalls slowly filled with expirees, plenty of elation in rotation dictation as the 26 speared west. Predicting my possible Conrod position while driving out of Roubaix was being constantly readjusted as more retreated to hang on at the back, there were only about 10 left with legs to drive at the front as we descended the dipper in the closing k. With Coggo, Andy and Tina ahead, thoughts of Hommy looming large behind fuzzied my focus, Andy bolted with 500 to go! I kicked the Mavics like a mule to shake Hommy from my draft and set about the chase to young Andy (with a 30 year advantage, no respect for his elders), regretting my Garmin glance (189bpm @ 54km/h) that threw doubt on a success. Andy, suddenly afflicted with the noddies at 100 metres to go was the silver lining, slipped into his draft for a moment to draw a short breath, then power past to cross a rather blurry edged finish first, speechless till the bridge.
There were tropical temperatures to start Wednesday, streaks of orange light pierced the eastern horizon to post a picturesque prologue for the Kialla Couldabeens ride. I joined the grid with 2 minutes to spare but lined up as the masochist meat in a Rocket and Pistol sandwich of speed, SuperMario's arrival on the death knock of 6 saved me (positioned as the salad in that sandwich) FeltMat and Trav took the leading role to River Rd, my cranial calculations put me with Pete battling the Kialla Central northeast breeze, not so bad with plenty of tree shelter as it happened, but Pete still managed to put half a bike on me (Daniel lives on in another form!) Feeling fried by River Roads channel bridge, SuperMario likewise with plenty of huff and puff on the roll over. Everyone who owned a bike was on it westbound on River Rd this morning (the Breakaway bunch blossoming to 11), must have seen Thursday's forecast rain coming? We barrelled into Boundary, more bikes bunched large and small oncoming, and up to Channel Road for a favourable leg back to town. Second last wheel at the kinder, a speed lead to the Cha Cha by Shorty and Trav, and a bonus breeze behind was just too tempting, my squirt of speed at Prentice road lit up the wheels to 54 but the inspired intensity imploded with Rockets' sizzling slingshot past, delivering a lethal dose of reality to put me back in the slow box. Couldabeens congealed to tap the last leg back to Archer, many with the luxury of time to add a coffee stop before home.
There was little life left in the self motivation battery Thursday morning, but a damp forecast for the weeks end inspired a few amperes to arise at 4.45. Copious Kellogs Cadnium Crispies consumed to harden up for a toaster lap, bunch banter socially satisfies but solo slogs strengthen (maybe mentally maims?). The eternal drag out to the Emu facing the northeaster had me trawling the depths of effort, craving the tailwind reward, spinning dervishly on the 17 tooth sprocket at 80 rpm. Twas vunderbah heading south, a crimson sunrise south of Mt Major a sign of inclemency to come? A duo of DuraAce clicks put the chain onto old faithful 14 to grind west from the Toaster, a breakfast sonata of squealing pigs drowning out my Cosmic chorus. I wondered if my timing would intercept the Couldabeens at Channel Rd but 6.05 was a bit ahead of schedule. I detect sweat spots on specs in River road, but it was the heavens slowly opening to deliver bike and I a decent drench, the rooster tail of wheel water prompting my phone to be shifted to a drier spot. Almost refreshed and certainly cooled at the dipper, I had a blow dry from the breeze (now more northerly) by Rivers' end. With wattage waining I eased off the throttle to Mitchell Rd, saving something for Conrod's headwind. A few peeks behind saw a track devoid of Couldabeens, Cats or Goats, it was the turkeys driving without headlights that was the oncoming worry. Emptying the last drops of energy in Conrod, I soaked up Strava's generous January 2015 trophies (worth the 162 suffer score?) but wonder what anguish if February sees us striving Strava starved?
Suprised by a dry Friday morning, an opportunity to squeeze a lap in begged. My heartrate had vanished from the Garmin screen (checked I wasn't dead) but soon realised the sensor was upside down Miss Jane. Righted and re-instated, I cranked east in Knight Street (freaky feline free) and through the SPC roundabout into Old Dookie, desolate and devoid of Hurt Locker or Breakaways. Damn wind (ENE) hindered a decent speed till Boundary, by the Pub it had swung SSE. There were a few puddles to avoid (to keep the posterior powder dry), at least comfort has been found on the Fizik after months of being a pain in the......... A very grey start to the day and not a bike to be seen till two neat lines of Couldabeens were found eastward in River Rd. On course for an early finish, I was suprised to find a bit left in the tank for a 40+ push in Conrod, a swansong for a rain ruined weekend?
Week 2 : 277km YTD 320km
Rider of the Week : more cryptic this week after the clever Cougar solved last weeks [Weapon] within hours.
174cm tall, black bike, Louis Garneau shoes, once worked at Vic Roads.
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