A swift spontaneous fling of the doona was the best way to deal with a 4.30 alarm Saturday, strike while the iron's hot (3.2 degrees?) before thought argues the case for the negative! Freedom selected a Ford-Boundary-Channel Rd entree to Saturdays' usual main course, a thin yellow crescent the mornings beacon eastward. I'd managed to freeze the heart rate (150) cadence (77) and speed (32) to prepare for distance ahead, nearly in a neural neutral while the mind meandered meaninglessly. The wind's absence was like a lotto win, something savoured from the depths of Autumn's dying days (hope springs eternal!) I made it to the startline with a minute to spare, a sizeable bunch (Temple, Eammon, Shorty, Cougar, SuperMario, Nick, Rocket, Trav, AvantiChris, GTCraig, AvantiTrev, Jase, SpinDoctor, Linda, Fisky and Ange) rolled away on cue, me content in the manageable mindset at the back of the bunch rather than perplexed and puffing at the pointy end. Eammon, an infrequent lapper, was coping well, time starved GTCraig putting in some craved k's as we toured to the toaster. The picture perfect sunrise at the Emu, a carbon copy of this one snapped in July 2012 , made it worth getting out of bed to witness.
The bunch worked west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, sudden Shorty shenanigans with a suprise swerve in Ford Rd (close call to the wheel ahead) invoked a Rocket rebuke (the WobblyTrev comparison a touch harsh Rocket!). Most are now in winter kit to survive the temperature, Fisky almost at the end of his weather tether, cold icing the inclination. SpinDoctors sprint itch needed scratching as we passed DECA, Wanganui hill beckoned a thrash, Rocket, Ange, Temple, even Eammon with the same rash of rush, pretty pleased I managed 4th on the tortuous climb. A conversational cruise back to coffee (Fisky unwittingly put his squeaky clean Giant straight through a roadside chunder) to be blessed with a bespoke alloy bike rack at the Lemontree (thanks to AvantiTrev and Nath engineering)
Thoughts of Mondays circuit were being planned Sunday, mindless mental mapping measuring monthly mileage maybe a moronic mindset, a meandering muse mea culpa, maybe maintaining mojo? I'd reverted to the ubiquitous Toaster loop (minus the golf course leg), at least familiar ground to cover with the lack of daylight. Tap tap east on Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd , felt like pushing through treacle but put it down to 3 degrees and 99% humidity. The turn south (what are the odds to pause for the only car seen for 20 minutes!) at the Emu felt easier, bureau said calm but senses said an easterly, I wasn't setting any records but targetted to roll along in the low 30's. Vince and a few of the other guns were anti-clockwise in search of the Cats along Boundary Rd, I'd zoned in on a distant tail-light emerging from Channel Rd, arguing with myself not to chase. As it happens, the tail-light ahead was cruising, reflective booties identifying SpinDoctors cadence well before I'd reached him. A chat during the remainder of the lap passed the k's quickly, still hovering around zone 3 & 4 to tear up a 1000 calories, back into town Catless, and extra minutes up the sleeve before work.
Tuesday's forecast showers had skirted south, radar clearance allowing a lap thought imposssible the night before. Coggo, Belly and Heady were the only ones to study the sky and muse the meteorology, so a quartet set sail from Friars on a drying track, but Belly scored a puncture within 300 metres (content to repair and head for home) leaving a "menagerie a trois" to earnestlly exercise east, Tina at the weighbridge to weigh in for a quadrella. Indian filed at third wheel and a few centimetres off Heady's wheel, I pondered the trust we put in each other spearing into the damp and darkness at close quarters. A distant collection of Cats was a measuring stick till Boundary Rd got us out of the (15 km/h) northeaster, my 3.2k turn from Central Ave digging deep into the reserves. We'd narrowed the gap on a solitary tail-light ahead at the Broken bridges, closing in on a solitary Mexican poured some eagerness into the engine. Mmmm....a slow Mexican? Bit like saying a nice bindii, a smooth pot-hole, a straight WobblyTrev.......please explain this occult oxymoron MexicanAngelo? Tina, Coggo and Heady ripped into River Rd, ricochetting a flattened can off a few wheels, whittling down the Cats gap but just not quite within reach (4 against 7). I got the Central Kialla leg, Tina monstered Mitchell, Coggo the Mt Nicolaci climb, Heady headed us to the horse stud, my last dip to Conrod's kink. Chuffed to see the finish line with four united, but I had to skip the ride post mortem at Degani's with emphasis earnestly on the employer.
I took a Wednesday wander out the Boulevard to the golf course but was way too early heading to the Couldabeens, altering the course to bear south on Raftery, the plan to intercept the southbound bunch in Archer Rd. A handy northeaster propelled the k's to Mitchell Rd, damp dodgin' and stick swervin' to the highway. Soon northbound on Archer in search of the Couldabeens wasn't the drama i'd imagined into the (now) northerly. The indian filed lights of AvantiChris, Shorty, Nick, Cougar and Temple appeared out of the roundabout, my time to u-turn and climb aboard. It took a little consultation to get track turns organised, nice driving by AvantiChris and Nick to Mitchell Rd, Shorty and Temple taking us to Central Kialla. I'd planned my turn in River Rd to the bridge but oncoming cars and Cats turned it to a double shift, up and out of the dip before I peeled off. Nick drove Boundary Rd taking the headwind on the chin, AvantiChris powered in Channel Rd enjoying breaking in a new pair of Cosmic Carbone's. There were a few groans from puddles smearing specs, chilling calves and blotting bikes, but we had a dip at the Cha Cha (Temple taking the honours), then the calm and chat to finish the last leg, the single filed proceedure appeared to win some votes, the change as good as a holiday? A gremlin in the Garmin denied the data, 3 years maybe beyond it's useful life?
Thursday's southbound slog (stinkin' southwester suggested a circuit of suffering) collected Wozz and Jase on the commute to the earlier Couldabeens start, winters approach had culled the numbers down to the devoted, stalwarts Nick, Cougar, Rocket, AvantiTrev, Shorty, Temple and SuperMario, the thinned ranks to commence the day. AvantiTrev took some convincing to share the front, a gentle intro prevented early expiry, an arriving Mark and Trish u-turning at Kensington to join the rank and file. Vince was oncoming as we reached the school, warning of a loose Darth Vader (dog) at Channel Rd's end, Temple happy in the role of tail-light, Nick, Shorty and SuperMario earning elephant stamps fronting the front. Safely through to Channel Rd's end canine free, Jase and Rocket bore the Boundary brunt, but River Rd was equally tough with a fair angle of westerly to wear us down, Nick copping Marks' malevolent mischief, his heavy hit out in the last k. Riding against the bunch instead of with it, earns Mark the moniker of Mortein (for the effective control of serial pests). SuperMario rued drawing the Mt.Nicolaci straw but won the polka dots, the bunch balance was six towing four by the highway. The last three kays was more enjoyable, blessed with the breeze behind and the cream rising to the top in Conrod, Rocket at the helm and nobody willing (or able) to assume the role (roll). Wozza hung on bravely for second (despite a cold having him operating on one lung) I was on empty in third. Troops regrouped for the roll home but nearly all headed for Kialla caffine infusion.
Out on the Ford-LemnosCosgrove-Emu-Toaster-OldDookie track at five on Friday morning, a mental mindfield, a psychiatric stumping ground to prepare for a pain train fryer from Friars. Only just a double digit temperature with a strong southerly chilling the bones, I made an oath to self to keep below the aerobic red-line to leave some contribution to the Goat grind. Shed 5 km/h off the pace keeping to that oath to the Toaster into the southerly, a relief to bear west back to town and on schedule. Old Dookie Rd was spent pondering if enough was in the tank for the friars fryer, but took motivation from pilgrims in ones and two's rolling east ahead of the Cats freaky Friday. Coggo, Belly, AvantiLeigh, Heady and Sootie were the congregation at Friars, Sooties maiden voyage after three weeks in dry dock was jumping into the deep end. All aboard the train at six, single filing beyond Doyles Rd, I got the reigns crossing Central Ave, up to School Rd was enough for my first shift. All stepped up for a turn at the headwind torture in Boundary Rd, CatPhil climbing aboard after missing the 5.50 express from Notre Dame. From the bridges to River Rd cooked my calves, hard work to jump back on board the lungbuster locomotive for River Rd, GoatPhil well on song, CatPhil none too shabby either. Hats off to Sootie, Belly and Heady pouring on the perspiration, my turn up again in Mitchell Rd (still recovering from GoatPhil's pace). All had another crank at the front which timed my reappearance cresting Conrod's dipper, with all reserves spent I was running on AvantiLeigh's encouragement to "keep at it", crossing the line to score the chocolates (but lost the Garmin data again)
Week 21 : 339 km YTD 6,258 km
Prologues aren't so attractive as the weather descends in temperature but a chance to clock a few k's in double figures was eagerly taken up with Wozza and Jase, a 4:45 start near the top of town to see who dared at the Raftery Rd start (nobody as dedicated / delerious as us it seems!) Sticking to a steady 30's regime we worked our way south, the WNW'er a hinerance at first but a help in Mitchell Rd. A brief belt of misty rain was barely enough to gloss the tarmac, I stuck to the 17 cog to dry the legs (and teach them some cadence), a few rotations rolled to share the conversation around, enjoying a rain reprieve. The wind was a forgotten ally in River Rd, but an enemy in Boundary Rd, a massive grey curtain of cloud rolled low across the paddocks, the slim glow from town on the horizon. It was an effort to push west back to town on Channel Rd, another misting of rain certain to strip away some 6 am Saturday starters. All the way back to the regular starting grid, we were suprised to find decent numbers had formed, FeltMat, Temple, Nick, Pistol, Rocket, AvantiChris, Ange, Bo and Kel, braving the forecast. Away at 6, a split for traffic went un-noticed in the bunch, Wozz and I, Temple and FeltMat left for dead to charter a challenging chase. Into the 40's at Kensington Gardens, and nudging 50 at the kink, a red mist had descended on my specs making up the defecit, dummy discarded to catch the 7 minus a rear vision. I shot past the pack then spent a k calming the speed and emotion to rejoin at Prentice Rd., settling into the regular rotations. A squishy turn into Boundary Rd confirmed the suspected soft front tyre, the ballad of the bastard bindii had played again! A re-tube and fumble of C02 finally got me underway again, the pitter patter of little drops felt northbound, multipying to a shower by Old Dookie Rd. We tippy toed around the Toaster, rooster tails of H20 from wheels ahead were ascending up the nostrils, specs were smeared and socks soaked......what a joy! Pointing west at the Emu we had the added delight of a headwind, a hard drive home even behind the Wozz and Rocket engines towing. Like a date with Pauline Hansen, we just wanted it to end, burning up the energy in the hope of reaching the Lemontrees heaters sooner. There was little interest in the Wanganui hill sprint, all focus (through the drizzle) on intake of hot coffee and food. Jase peeled off home, Kel drew the short straw with a puncture in the Boulevard. Eventually back to base camp, Jase won the Nobel Prize for humanitarian aid fronting with towels for all to dry off.
The peal of windchimes Monday morning made a shorter precursory lap tempting, a 10k warm up on the golf course loop deemed enough. Ino the deep end of a 25 km/h headwind on the Boulevard hurt, but the drive east on Wanganui Rd was an ego booster, back to Friars sufficiently loosened to join Coggo, Tum, Phil and BigBen (at least we were his 3rd choice after missing two other bunches) . Concensus ruled a rapid lap, track turns the order of the day with BigBen being Casey Jones the train driver, hogging the length of Old Dookie Rd. Tum scored the side draft of Boundary to the pub, his progress unhindered by the hirsuit chin warmer. Coggo flicked me an elbow at Channel Rd, I took the helm to River Rd, happy in the high 30's. BigBen retook the reigns for River Rd, a long but tapering turn to the dip. Thoughts of a short-cut home were shelved, faster to stay with the group on the full circuit than slog solo home! Coggo, Tum and Phil put in great turns to Archer Rd, my go to the highway wore at the wattage. Turns shortened for the 3k's remaining, all surviving to the finish line in 52:10
The sky looked hopeful Tuesday morning so kitted up, breakfasted, tyres pumped and out the door ,to be greeted by starting showers. No argument, bed wins.
Twas a fresh 3 degree spin to the Couldabeens on Wednesday, FeltMat, Pistol, Nick, AvantiChris, Cougar, Temple, Rocket, SpinDoctor, AvantiTrev and Jase faced the cool music and a westerly chilling the bones, spearing south on Archer Rd, shame not everyone gets the echelon ettiquette. Temple, FeltMat and Cougar were ensconced at the back, AvantiTrev braving the front for a half turn in central Kialla. River Rd was a utopia with 15km/h of tail breeze making the "feels like -0.2 degrees" nearly bearable. Plenty of felines and a single filed pain train of Goats worked their way west and south, I prepared for the Channel Rd challenge of the headwind home (not nearly as bad as the imagination had painted it) Nick had emptied his jellybean jar approaching the kinder, I eased back to lend a tow to have AvantiChris, AvantiTrev, Temple, Cougar and FeltMat all take up the tow too, Rocket, Pistol, SpinDoc and Jase the four with force to attack the Cha Cha (though not putting a lot of distance on us). A calm cruise for a k got me back to a speaking state to finish a lap at least social.
Out of town and missed a Thursday circuit, but a Friars fryer Friday fitted the bill. Coggo, AvantiLeigh, Tum, Sootie and Baz were the only contenders for a hot lap so all aboard at 6 and out of town without much ado, indian file called at Doyles Rd for Tum to take first shift. It took a bit to get the lungs & legs accustomed to 7 degrees after a day off but settled in on Coggos wheel till my number came up at School Rd for a turn to Boundary. We caught the Tina tail-light ahead at Boundary and worked well south (despite the breeze) with all putting in solid shifts. It felt a little easier in River Rd, pleased to get a couple of k's in at the front before the head said give up. Baz 'bout busted near River's end, (peeling off for a shortcut to coffee) but Sootie soldiered on, rusty from a three week bike reprieve. I wound up the rubber band for a squirt from Central Kialla to Archer, AvantiLeigh toasting us up MtNicolaci to the highway. Tina towed us to Roubaix, cranking up for the serious end of the circuit. Tum and Coggo wound up the heat to Conrod, I got inspired to catch and pass a solo Googs (missed the Cat express) which burnt my crust, Coggo, Tum and Avanti Leigh contesting the honours, me grateful to see the finish (50:43) to finish the week.
Week 20 217 km YTD 5,919 km
Recommended reading : Cycling Tips "Deindividuated" by Justin Coulson
(and check out Strava's "FlyBys")
An eye on an unknown slow clock made the start line impossible to reach Saturday morning, a short cut via Old Dookie Rd the only chance to intercept the group, at least enjoying a steady warm up rather than flogging a dead horse. No sign of Couldabeens in Boundary Rd, I finally found the pack just getting mobile (Jase's puncture pitstopping the pack) near the S bend of Channel Rd, a bit of a chase with Jase to get back aboard a bunch of 14 on a mission of momentum. Identifying the players (Ange, Bo, Kel, Linda, Fisky, Rocket, Cougar, Pistol, SuperMario, Temple, Nick, Jen, AvantiChris and AvantiTrev) on the roll through to the front, we picked up Nath to drive to Old Dookie Rd, then pointed to the Toaster pairing with Fisky at the front. Another scenic sun-up at yonder Mt Major, all were enjoying a steady roll, a welcome change from the weekday thrashings we endure? Westward with the wind after the Emu, a sudden squeal from behind was Fisky inadvertently Zipping my Cosmic, un-nerving having your rubber rubbed! Momentum enjoyed toward base camp, thoughts of breakfast, wind at our backs and a weekend ahead. Sitting at third wheel as we passed DECA begged an assault at the Wanganui hill, cranked up the cadence (nearing ninety!) which only led to lead out Ange, but I was pleased to crest the first first. Calm descended to roll in the Boulevard (Fisky skimming his Schwalbe again!) to the Lemontree for breakfast, politics & banana bread, foreign borders and coffee filling the ears and stomach.
A rather rusty rolling of legs Tuesday (off two wheels since Saturday) but I was determined to jump in the deep end with the Couldabeens. I met Wozz in the main drag for the rare Autumn northerly to blow us to the car park start, random raindrops throwing much doubt into the ride. Only Rocket, Hollywood and PistolPete had braved an appearance at the new start time (touted by many, tried by few) so the gamble was taken, out Channel Rd at 6 with faith in favourable weather. As dry as a chip just a k out of town gave hope, but hurry spelt hurt amongst the Couldabeens cannons. Leg three beside Wozz then four beside Rocket pumped my pulmonaries, impossible to get the heart rate below 170, even when echiloned at third wheel for the final leg of Channel Rd. Pistol Pete was in a Di dillema with the Shimano refusing to budge gears in Boundary Rd, caught in a casualty of cadence he retreated to the rear, the tempo toasty and single filed, fast catching the tail-lights ahead. I sat at the back seat trying to concrete composure and win wattage, twas inspiring to catch and pass the 10 pussycats, driving me to contribute at the pointy end in River Rd, head saying 750 metres but the legs refusing more than 500. Hollywood withdrew from service at Central Kialla, leaving only Pistol, Wozz and Rocket to provide the tow, body language suggesting it was Hollywoods last efforts but I was on my last rites! The machine that is Rocket kept pumping the pace (the depths I dug trying to hang on) while others took turns to be toasted at the front in a Rocket rotisserie to Conrod straight. Pistol had spun himself silly and went OTA, Hollywood hung on for a last ditch dip, Rocket speared onward with Wozz in touch, my legs & lungs had lost the will to live, but we all crossed the line scoring Strava salutes with a 39.3 average (18k's with the heart rate in zone 5).
The ghosts of Tuesday's train of torture ghouled the gastrocnemius and haunted the hippocampus Wednesday morning, temperature halved (6 degrees) to chill thoughts further. I found Wozz rugged up for the spin south, at least a quieter lap was on Wednesday's agenda. The deck shuffled at the carpark for some escaping the first shift, a brief chat with FeltMat and Temple (elected themselves as tail-lights) weren't seen or spoken too again! The single file of AvantiChris, Pistol, SpinDoctor, Nick, AvantiTrev, Cougar, Hollywood, Wozza, Jase, FeltMat and Temple slogged south on Archer till the traffic thinned, I was hiding behind Hollywood while Pistol and the SpinDoctor did the hard yards. My number came up in Mitchell Rd beside Hollywood, my old engine misfiring (magneto malfunction?) under the load, maybe not yet up to temperature? The proliferation of populated peletons were oncoming in River Rd now that our flag falls at 6, half a dozen Genesis, twenty Cats, eight Breakaways and a dozen Goats (at a guess), good numbers considering the temperature. Our speed had stabilised but the effort eased heading to Channel Rd, it had taken 25k for me to get into the groove. On the tail of the Wozza-Pistol-SpinDoctor-Hollywood train was a dream sit approaching the ChaCha, Wozza had the early lead-out and cooked his goose, Pistol fired into the 40's, the SpinDoctor did his brief RPM class, then Hollywood hauled me into the 50's (a delicious draft, but I lacked the wattage to keep in touch). Content with 3rd and a few hundred metres to take in the oxygen, I caught up some conversation on the cruise back to civilisation.
The reasons to ride make rapid reading but there's an encyclopedia of excuses not to, as winters' grip firms in the last gasps of Autumn. It's a case of use it or lose it in these times, way too much work to do getting back on form if winter is spent in hibernation (I submit exhibits WhisperingJack and BigMat as evidence, your honour!) A trundle down to Friars, climatising to inhaling iced air, found Coggo, Joe, Baz, Snow, Belly, Deb, Bickers, Carl and Phil, prepared to brave a lap. Gently on the throttle out of town we collected Tina to get the turns rolling, a bit of a flat spot in the rotations as xxxxxxx (name witheld out of respect....anyone having a dip in five degrees deserves kudos) struggled with pace. A distant red pulse of Cat tail-lights and a white line of Genesis oncoming (then spearing south) marked our turn to Boundary, smoothly back up to speed with gatekeeper Deb roll calling. A notch or two was raised for River Rd but Carl punctured at the bridge, the bunch collectively pit stopping for repairs. With no spare time up my sleeve I made apologies to continue, Deb jumping aboard the little express train (to alight early at the Friars coffee station). Plugging into the breeze on Mitchell Rd I'd unwittingly lost the caboose at Archer, so a coast up Mt. Nicolaci reconnected the rolling stock to steam back to town, keeping me to agenda.
Drowning out the demons of defeatism at 4.30am was difficult, the sense of accomplishment (at the end of Raftery Rd) seemed a world away, concentration on porridge, dates and honey was a more delectable distraction. Threw a leg over the Fizik before rational thinking took over, out the door at 5.10 for a clockwise attack on the Toaster loop. The iliopsoas complained bitterly at pushing the 15 tooth cog, balancing the wattage for a decent dip to the Emu vs the reserves needed to grind into the westerly (15-22 km/h) home. Neural receptors filed an official complaint nearing the soup tin, back to the 17 cog from Lemnos North Rd to the main eastern channel (81 rpm) burned the sartorius and rectus femoris instead. I turned at the Emu and braced for the workout from the Toaster to Boundary, ignoring the speedo to avoid disappointment. Crested the Col du Channel (a tough 2metre ascent) to witness two bikes turning south, difficult to resist a chase. I'd whittled down the gap by the Pub to find Wizz and Fox cruising, a quick chat voted track turns the order of the day. I took the appetiser to River Rd, Wizz consumed the big 6k main course into the headwind, Fox the dessert in Central Kialla, commendable cranking on a crook calf. My go in Mitchell (to Archer) turned torque to a trickle, an elbow giving Wizz the task to tow (admirably driven to Roubaix). Fox took us to the horse stud, I got to the kink into Conrod, Wizz dragging us speechless to the finish to end a week weak, but endowed with endorphines
Week 19 : 236 km YTD 5,702 km
Big congrats to Stace, Comet, Weapon and Kylie for a fine finish at Port Mac Ironman last weekend. Gritty girls!
PS : Cheers China, 100 hits last week :)
Made it to the footpath Saturday morning just as spits of rain commenced, cancelling plans of a ride but breakfast with the crew was enjoyed at base camp anyway.
My suggestion of a circuit at 7 on Sunday was met with an empty carpark start, so set sail solo down Archer Rd, hoping to get the south-southeaster over and done with early. I wrestled with the "yeah, nah, but"s for the length of Mitchell Rd, to commit to a Camel lap or go soft and shortcut, that was the question! Stubborness triumphed over the length and monotony of Bells-Armstrong Rd (as inviting as a holiday to Aleppo with Bashar Al Assad) a lap to map, an aim to reign, a point to prove. The 13 long and narrow k's of Bells Armstrong Rd was like sitting through parliaments question time, only newborn lambs and symetrical rows of burnt stubble to view for half an hour, a wandering mind kept thoughts amused till Cosgrove-Caniambo Rd finally came into view. Nice to be northbound, alpaccas chewing the cud stared to wonder what the hell I was doing with a cold Sunday morning, the coarsely sealed goat track (no offense intended Goats!) pummelled the posterior and created Cosmic chaos till the Midland was crossed. Olive groves in Dookies dark ochre soil and hirsute Herfords were the landmarks in the shadows of Mt.Major till the Camel farm signalled stage left. Kellows Rd was cruel into the (now) south wester (always a head wind back from Dookie!), New Dookie Rd not much better, while I sought shelter from roadside trees to maintain the tempo. Pine Lodge church appeared sooner than expected, but I stuck to New Dookie back to town figuring Old Dookie's wide open spaces would be harsher. Running on thoughts of the post ride nose bag kept the spirits up, nirvana was finally reached under the verandah of the Lemontree, coffee and banana bread to warm the insides, sun on the back warming tired bones.
A myriad of maps montaged mentally Monday morning, chosing a circuit to keep on schedule and inject a little variety to twist the structure of my average day, only the Strava MTS target motivated a ride (a reverse Cat lap). Southbound out of town on Raftery Rd, against the usual grain of Conrod (felt like having the helmet on backwards), the 18 tooth sprocket getting some use (80 rpm) to get the legs warm, promising myself some 15 teeth relief crossing the highway. A vacant stretch of tarmac east on Mitchell and River Rd, barely a glow from the horizon to start the day. Not till the Broken bridges on Boundary did like-minded lunatics appear, a small group ahead of the Cat pack spearing south. I was set for psychological scarring in Old Dookie Rd, the wind wickedly westerly, defying the SSW forecast. Head down and heart rate up (with a g'day to Goats oncoming) for the 8k home, I was hunting the grratio between 17 and 15 for best purchase fighting the wind, giving in to grind the 15. Comfort in reaching SPC to finally ease off the throttle, a quiet roll home to repair with raisin toast.
Pedalled a prepatory prologue (predicting plenty o' peleton pain) prior to the Couldabeens Tuesday, a smooth 10k round the golf course loop warmed the old engine to prevent chucking a rod when revved. Finding Wozz on the return to town we drove into the main street southerly, swerving the road kill of a crucified cassette (audio), commenced rhetorical retro recollections of 8 track cartridges and chrome 90 min tapes on the commute, gridding a little early to witness the gladiators arrive for battle (Bo, Kel, Kenworth, Jase, AvantiTrev, Pistol, Rocket and Nick). Away at 5.45 and into the anaerobic deep end on pole with Wozz, we got the call of 'bike back' beyond the roundabout, a u-turning Mark and hurrying Hollywood playing Couldabeens catch up. Regimental rotations resumed on Channel Rd, Nick and AvantiTrev taking early retirement at the rear. Beside Rocket at the S bend, Mark surged ahead (HBK lives on!), quickly being served a 40+ km/h roasting in retaliation to Channel's end. Regretting riling Rocket's wrath, he was then hung by Hollywood to dry, seconding the motion in Boundary Rd. River Rd was rapid, a busted branch chicane keeping all eyes open, turns were shortening proportional to speed and Mark's elbow was nudging mine in a bid for the best draft. A cautious turn into Mitchell with traffic right and behind, Mark turned tail for home. Kenworth's withdrawal from duty nearing Mt Nicolaci denied me the dream draft (duely deflating dilligence), just another turn or two left in me. An easy cross of the highway, a considerate pairing by Jase then Wozz alongside, two rows quickly became one at the Raftery Horse stud. Track turns took over, Rocket, Jase, Pistol then Wozz drove us to the Conrod dip, my swansong being a lead-out for Rocket (a Lada leading a Lamborghini?). 'Givin her all she's got Captain' for 150 metres burnt my biscuits quickly, flicking the elbow for Rocket to launch, I was swamped by nearly all in the closing metres, OTA (save for AvantiTrev and Nick cruising to the line) but pleased with a quick 45:19 for the lap.
A wintery weight on the doona crushed motivation Wednesday, what fool set the alarm at 4.30am? A glimmer of enthusiasm mustered the strength to throw off the covers, porridge, coffee and kit-up before rationale kicked in, and out the door at 5. 4 degrees was a mother-in-law welcome to the Toaster loop, a pair of new Vredesteins (bulletproof to bindii?) gave some hope. I poked the headlight into the long dark corridor of Ford & Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to the Emu, on top of the 56/15 and pushing through a custard-like atmostphere had me earning a second breakfast early. Eventually to Boundary Rd and flat-lining at 138 bpm, a light followed me south, no gain made by the Pub, so turned up the tempo to test the mystery one's resolve. By River Rd, curiosity had got the better of me, slowing to to identify the stalker. Twas Wizz who drew alongside just before the dip, the remainder of the lap tapped out with a few grabs at conversation (between my gasps). Over the highway and well ahead of the feline fraternity, the temperature dropped with the sun's imminent rising, giving me an ice-cream headache but with out the benefit of ice-cream! Home early with time to thaw out, 55k's clocked by 6.45.
Groundhog Thursday, same early alarm, same course set out the Boulevard to start the day, Strava striving. (MTS challenge of 1250k/month almost within reach on the last day) 6 degrees was positively balmy over yesterdays 4 degrees, setting sail a little earlier to a prologue goal of Friars by 6. A fleeting fox in suburbia flagged off the 30k lap, a self imposed gear limit on the 17 cog (78rpm is about my vintage) took me out to the Emu and south to the Toaster (a hint of SSE), making it to the piggery before the craving for the 15 was too much to resist (adding 10% to the velocity). A few extra pascals in the Vredesteins caused the Cosmics to chorus (C sharp), a tonal toccata to tempo to, back into town with 5 minutes up the sleeve. Cold had culled contenders at Friars, just Coggo, Belly, Joe, Phill, Bickers, Heady and Snow to go at 6. Rhythmic rotations were underway after Doyles Rd, Tina adding to the compact congregation, Cat l.e.d.'s ahead as our guiding light. All put in their two wheels worth at the front till River Rd, the odd reartirement commencing an increased workload at the front. Some came back for more in Central Kialla but reality struck again with withdrawals in Mitchell. A calm cruise over the highway and to the little bridge collected the crew and their breaths, steadily back up to the boil by Arcadia Downs had only the serious venturing forward. Coggo got the boiler stoked in the last half of Conrod, Tina called me over to go as Coggo stretched his lead, but there was little left in my tank other than towing duties for Tina to take a deserved second.
How indulgent to sleep in till 5 on Friday! I'd finally dug the toasty Zeinel gloves out of hibernation and took a lengthy limber-up (loosening lame legs) to rendevous with Wozz. An aroma de bakerie inspired the commute to the Couldabeens carpark, Pistol, Cougar, AvantiTrev, Rocket, Temple, Nick, Kenworth, Tucks and Hollywood filtering in. At the third stroke of 5.45 Cougar bolted a breakaway, the domestiques spending a k to catch, and welcoming Choppy aboard. Cautiously cagey and complicit cranking up to cruising speed with Wozz, I was almost on the ropes by the roundabout, Tucks was up next, panting from a case of part-time pedalling (religiously running). The Pistol and Hollywood combo silenced the troops at Central Kialla, Rocket considerately cruisy beside Nick in recovery mode. There was work for me with Wozz in River Rd, Temple, AvantiTrev and Cougar reposed at the rear. A pair of profusely populated peletons plied south as we belted to the Broken bridges courtesy of Pistol and Hollywood locked in battle again. I started to find some wattage in Channel Rd (lured into a false sense of ability in the dream draft of Kenworth, Rocket and Wozza), the reality of carving through virgin air from Jameson Rd to the Kinder hit hard, I had all the power of an AA battery by the Cha Cha. Quickly catalogued as a tail-ender with Temple and Trev shooting by (suddenly struck by a new lease on life?) I was left to languish lamenting in the legacy of lethargic legs loosened by long laps. The bunch reassembled at Orrvale school and tapped to town, all but Wozz and I with time to quaff Kialla coffee.
Week 18 : 337 km YTD 5,466 km
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With a washed out Saturday, What'sApp pulled a petite peleton (Rocket, AvantiTrev, Wozza, Temple, Ange, Linda and Fisky) together Sunday, keen for k's but not so eager on the 7 degrees or the southwester. The Toaster circuit anti-clockwise was the lap of choice, I'd squeezed into the salubrious sandwich of AvantiTrev and Temple, not having to endure the breeze till Mitchell Rd (and then easily shouldered from the right flank). Chilled air niggled nostrils to the point of sniffing being socially acceptable, the Garmin h.r. reading low again (should have been asleep at 47bpm), time to Google some fix facts me thinks. A conversational cruise along River Rd (a delight in daylight) then turned to Boundary, Mark and Trish leaping on, en-route to a Dookie-VioletTown loop as Tour De FightBacc training. Fisky winged west into Channel, our remainder continued the Toaster lap, Mark and Trish u-turning in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to join SpecialisedTony, Oz and co on their windy way. Thoughts of extra k's beyond the lap were soon swept aside by the increasing breeze (now SSE at 20-33 km/h), coffee and conversation a far more palatable proposition in the warmth of the Lemontree.
Somewhat Strava-starved Monday morning, a thrash at the Pine to Ford segment netted a 6th overall, the quick quest quenched, it was head down into the length of Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd for the 12k slog to the Emu, a light SSE to the starboard side chilling the old bones (feels like 3.5). A few k's on the 17 warmed up the old engine to grind the 15 from the channel onward, revisiting the 17 for the leg to the Toaster, a distant glow from town to navigate west. I'd fluked the position of the tempramental heartrate strap to read a believable 160 bpm, blurring the tarmac back to Friars. Finding Coggo, RetiredDave, Belly, Phil and Bickers for a steady lap of Old Dookie-Boundary and Channel Rd to warm up the week, Tina made it a magnificent seven at the Doyles roundabout. Coggo's Otways epic, the weekend's weaknesses and waning weather kept conversation running as legs had a gentle introduction for a weeks work.
Straight off the Antarctic at 25 km/h, a southerly was Tuesday's heartstarter for Wozz and I, enthusiasm easily eroded on the 5k trip to the Archer car park, but it was the rusty return of (recently retired) WhisperingJack that needed motivation. Kenworth, Nick, PistolPete, Rocket, Rudy, Hollywood, AvantiTrev, Bo & Kel had braved the elements, a calm first leg picked up Mark, Trish left in arrears to climb aboard. The pace percolated pedaling profusely east, nothing quite prepares you for the chill and the drag co-efficient at the front, from kinder to the cypress trees enough to wear me thin. Kenworths torque monstered Marks' malevolent mischief, AvantiTrev and WhisperingJack sought solice sitting silently in the cheap seats. Rocket and Pistol Pete's pairing in River Rd was boosted by Bo, felt my tank emptying and there was still 13k's of cruelty left! (an open cheque to Wozz for allowing my shorter contribution at the puffing end). Cars up and back and truck right at Mitchell Rd dampened the velocity on the turn, a long haul to Archer Rd weakened my (weak) will of mind over matter. More had resigned from toil at the tough end over the highway, stubborness drove one more turn at the front but I had to match Bo's boost out of Roubaix. By Arcadia Downs, pain had passed my passion, Kenworth's draft deleriously inviting while Pistol, Rocket, Wozz, Rudy and Bo indian filed the job of slicing the air at the front. Rocket lit the afterburners with 300 metres left, demoting (and demoralising?) all to "also rans", Wozza the mainstay of masochism till 80 metres remained. Emerging from Kenworths tow in the dying metres was like hitting an iceberg, my second place rightly was Wozza's.
The rigmarole of winter wardrobe warrants waking earlier with the multitude of layers to warm, heaven help me getting the bib knicks out of sequence! Deja vu to the cold and southerly wind, another 5k attempt at warming up to the Couldabeens grid. Wozza, SuperMario, Hollywood, Shorty, Cougar, Trav, Rudy and Pistol formed in the carpark, AvantiChris the duck out of water after 3 weeks Territory fishing. Rudy and I headed a litigant ligature leg to the Archer Rd roundabout, a call for calm(er) for a rearward light to catch evolved to be a tardy Rocket, dillemas during dressing delayed dilligent duty. It was cool enough (8 degrees) for Pistol to attire in 3/4 knicks, SuperMario to roast in the jacket but Rudy to expose his knees to the elements. Speed was savoured in Central Kialla, wind wrestled in River, Breakaway ladies legged it west with Genesis in pursuit as we slowed to be Boundary bound. I conceded a cadence contrast beside Rudy from the two bridges to Channel Rd (70 vs 103 rpm), into Channel Rd a slow squeeze up to cruising speed, but I was still 5 km/h shy of the mark glancing at the Garmin. We'd caught and passed Meags and Fee (on a short circuit) just before the cypress trees, unusually, Rocket had the helm on the Kinder corner, podium punters aplenty poised to pounce line astern. Glued to SpinDoctors' wheel seemed the prime real estate for the sprint, but he tucked in for a tow (preserving a short fuse?) when Hollywood bolted early. In an attempt to reel him in, I found myself elected the Golden Gate, a bridge to Hollywood for Pistol, Wozz and Rudy to challenge the Cha Cha. (scored a Strava 2nd best though, despite running out of urge) All calmed to cruise back to town, Kialla coffee for those lucky to have time spare.
A battle with the doona demons on Thursday morning, it was warmth & sloth vs effort & achievement. With 100 reasons to take the BigMat option, a solitary positive thought (unborn chicken voices in my head?) managed to motivate a saddle up. With Comet and Stace taking a later lap, I chose a solitary drive at 5 to the Emu, south to the Toaster and west back to town, a hit before the Goat habit. The bureau said easterly but senses said southerly, good progress to the Emu, the instincts were correct on the hard yards (3,490 of them) to the Toaster. Gently back up to pace for the westward return, winding up to a pleasing progress, arriving 10 minutes early was a reward of recovery at Friars. The gathering of Goats (Joe, AvantiAndy, AvantiLeigh, Belly, Phil, Leon, Snow, Baz, Sandy, Deb, Hommy, Stace, Comet, Tim, Bickers and Heady) set sail on Old Dookie, but it was disjointed as the NBN roll-out till Central Ave. A smooth circulation was hard to find (protests on clockwise by some) till facing the breeze in Boundary Rd, sharing the load with rolling turns far easier than my earlier solo southerly assault. A well oiled machine drove along River with a dozen drivers, down to Mitchell we mowed down Roscoe (commuting to coffee?) and went full steam up Mt Nicolaci following Leons lucious lead. I briefly backed out of the driving group at Roubaix to blend back in ahead of AvantiLeigh, with a finish favour to return. A few rotations later we'd cranked into Conrod, a nod to AvantiLeigh, crested the first dip, then hit the boost past Belly. Keen to shake off the Hommy threat, I cranked into the 50's with Leigh in the box seat, a flick of the elbow with a 100 left (boiler 'bout to burst) gave Leigh the honours, my account paid in full.
A standard start time caused a casual kit-up and relaxed roll to Friars to join Coggo, Belly, Heady, Baz, Deb, Snow and Phil for Friday's friendly frippery. Gently on the go pedal with the Old Dookie track dampened earlier, subtle inuendo on reverse rolls and my intentions were wryly filed, the rotations quickly and smoothly into order. Foggy patches (being just 0.8 degrees off the dew point) and tyres glossy, I was sandwiched between Baz and Heady, watching Snow plough into the pointy end. Less is more rolling turns in a small pack, the sometimes flustering, flapping and floundering fluctuations flowed to fluently fluid, with none of the ripple effects of a big bunch. A rare windless morning made Boundary a breeze, k's consumed quickly in River Rd and muscled into Mitchell, passing Archer on cue to the regular minute, with a calm climb of Mt Nicolaci. I had the lead into Roubaix corner, and with none venturing forward, slowly squeezed the accelerator with a line astern me. Belly bellyached at the horse stud (finally appearing for a turn), rotations resumed but with just four volunteers, thinning to just me and Coggo by Conrod. With 500 metres to go I threw in the towel (for someone else to clean up at the end) making myself useful as a draft for Deb to mid field while Snow skiied to victory. The cruise homeward picked up yet another bastard bindii, Michelin to marshmallow in the closing k, rim just kissing the tarmac at my letterbox.
Week 17 : 318km YTD 5,129km
A rapid readership rise from Russia, bal'shoye spaseeba peeps!
The three musketeers assembled at Raftery Rd in the wee small hours of Saturday, Vince along too for the (almost habitual) prologue. A spin against the grain of Conrod straight warmed up the gastrocnemius, Vince spying lights behind, went back to retreive 'em. Expecting the rear brigade to catch us, Wozz, Temple and I steered slowly and silently to the highway, a hint of SSE breeze helped our Central Kialla cruise, but the backmarkers were content to tail off. I was suprised our slightly longer prologue still got us to the Channel Rd Cha Cha before the blossoming bunch arrived ; AvantiPaul, Fisky, AvantiAndy, Ange, Linda and Steve amongst the regular Couldabeens Pistol, Hollywood, Cougar, Shorty and Nick ; wait for it, comeback kings Whispering Jack and SuperMario the suprise additions. Into Old Dookie Rd, Nick eased the pace to keep a kangaroo at a safe distance, bounding into a driveway after leading the bunch for 50 metres. The rising sun lit the Mt.Major clouds orange for a great start to the day, shame to turn our backs on it for the Lemnos-Cosgrove leg home. Speed was keen with many to share the load, a good effort at the front by a rusty SuperMario and WhisperingJack, many impressed with another co-ordinated classy couture kit modelled by Hollywood. Wozz and I took care on the throttle after crossing Grahamvale Rd, Temple soon on fourty at Ford Rd's end. PistolPete was first to feel frisky at DECA launching the sprint, Hollywood, Wozza, Jen and AvantiPaul unable to resist the pursuit and the mamoth ascent of Wanganui hill (at least 3 metres elevation). A collective cruise in Rudd Rd and the Boulevard put icing on the lap, AvantiPaul and I peeling off, u-turning to join the Goat group, clockwise and Toaster bound (curing dizziness?) Numbers swelled wheeling west, pairing with Sootie to head the herd to Numurkah Rd. Not a lot of effort needed with 20 sharing the load at a casual rate, a chance to wag the social tongue with YipYouPhil, Coggo, Comet, BigBen and co, Roscoe's respiratory restrictions avoided. Spice was poured into the speed steering south on Boundary Rd as rotations ramped up, a collection of reartirees grew in River Rd as the driving got serious into the 40's. The temptation to withdraw into the rear stalls was strong after a 100k's clicked over, but a case of cranial concrete concentrated the effort. SpecialisedTony, Greendawg and others were intercepted at Mitchell Rd, mixing into the circulation as the pack speared to Melbourne Rd, MeridaAndy's so-slow puncture (sensed at the Toaster) finally flattening at Mt.Nicolaci. Some of the intercepted ventured into the driving force but aspirations exceeded respirations (one at mixmaster cadence) to relegate them rearwards. The Conrod clothesline hung out BigBen, AvantiPaul and other punters to dry at the pointy end, me perfectly positioned to pounce a podium with 100 metres left, a sweet desert to a 120 k main course.
A little dusting of the cranial cobwebs on a golf course-DECA precursor circuit Monday, 6 degrees to inspire some cadence but the h.r. monitor was still asleep at 56 bpm. A pause to adjust bumped the numbers back up (temporarily) but I contracted a case of the "hurry-ups" noting the time, a Wanganui to Friars express (11 min) to get me to the church on time. Brendan, Hommy, Sandy, Coggo, Belly, BigPaul and Heady were prepared for a smooth and steady roll of the legs, a bridge building exercise for those struggling with the hastening weekday pace. Holding a low 30's limit seemed difficult for some but protocols were observed, weekend chat occupying the jaws rather than legs getting frisky. Coggo, Tina and I stuck to the limit, others began to slowly draw ahead in Channel Rd, but it was soon policed when Hommy inherited a bindii to peg the progress. Coggo's pit stop skills (and comedy) saved the day, a quiet roll back into town made a refreshing start to the workday week.
Porthos (Foss) and Aramis (Wozz) set south on a tepid Tuesday, down to Raftery Rd in search of Athos (Temple). Vince arrived from the south to ply a prologue to the Couldabeens circuit with a mere hint of a breeze (senses suggested a southeaster). Wozz and I took the turn to Roubaix corner, a damp drop or two on the skin at Archer hinted at rain, but not till nearing Channel Rd did spots litter the tarmac. Jase was parked under cover at the shop, Rocket, Pistol and Kenworth arriving, radars keenly scanned on the likelyhood of getting soggy. On the stroke of 5.45 the spots stopped, eight heading forward ho into Channel Rd, Vince and I in the drivers seats, slowly squeezing the accelerator. We caught Mexican Angelo just before the cypress trees, the quick speed slowly roasting Temple at the S bend. Jase hit the boost button on the last leg of Channel nearly cooking me, a relief when Vince called for calm so the wrecked could recouperate. West in River Rd seemed a little easier so the speed kicked into the 40's to ensure nobody was asleep. Matching the Jase pace braced the nerves for a go at the front, soon at ease when he called a roll before my point of explosion. Wozza, Pistol and Rocket were in fine fourties form in Mitchell Rd, keeping on top of the 13 sprocket my purpose till Mt. Nicolaci. Crossing Melbourne Rd set the squad single file, Rocket sensing all were near the limit took the helm for a freaky drive at 40 for 3 kilometres. Mere mortals, Jase, Pistol, Wozz and I offered our (slowly sinking) services at Arcadia Downs for some relief to Rocket, my turn out of the Conrod dip at 48 emptied the cookie jar, mentally abandoning ship to roll in all but last.
The horizon's distant rumble didn't deter determination on Wednesday (thunder heard most of the night), the "glass half full" mindset drove the enthusiasm for a Toaster lap at 5, or was it a case of OCD? (obsessive cyclist disorder) After Tuesdays spots quickly stopped, a positive cranial karma cranked out the Boulevard, but I was prepared to face the errant easterly (15-20 km/h) on Wanganui Rd. Happy holding low 30's (but legs conflicted that opinion) to Ford Rd's end and commenced Lemnos-Cosgrove only to hear click....click....click....click, the dreaded metronome of the bastard bindii injecting the front tube. Pegging progress at the main eastern channel with steering going as soft as the mining tax, repairs commenced, lit with lighting mid pit stop. Thunderumble hastened the handywork, back on two wheels eastward, a spot or two swiftly schemed shortcut scenarios. Southbound on Boundary the drops duplicated, by Hill Rd a downpour drenched desires, an Old Dookie damp off ramp chosen to turn tail homeward. Rain up the nose from the front wheel rooster tail, squelching socks and slipping hands on saturated bar tape ponders the joys of Autumn cycling rolling in the wet spot. Hammered home to the thought of a hot shower, tip toed round SPC's skating rink (roundabout), an incoming (and impatient) Camry testing it's ABS brakes (and my heart rate) seeing and avoiding me .
A long l.e.d. procession to Friars on Thursday, 21 fronting with clear skies promised, a subtle southerly the only hinderance. A (correct) clockwise roll was set in motion on Old Dookie Rd (to counter the southerly) till the Goat head pulled rank to anti the roll, throwing a little confusion into the ranks. Halting for traffic at Central Ave, Kate's sequipedalian track stand was most impressive! Back into motion for 39 on the upside and 37 on the downside, then easy into Boundary to keep the pack intact. Fresh volts in the h.r. monitor and cadence sensor smoothed the data, the svelte syncronicity and sublime speed simply stunning from Stace and Comet. 549 turns of the chainring in River Rd (yep; number nerd!) passed quickly, whittled down to a dozen driving with nine as caboose. Ironic to pair with David at "wait for David", then slowly back to the boil to Mitchell Rd kept the volunteers keen for more. A split at the highway allowed a brief breather (between Belly's sledges) till the congregation congealed, building to the mid 40's for Conrod straight. With the common problem for young men (premature accelleration), AvantiLeigh went for broke with 200 to go (try the nasal spray to last longer Leigh!), Sootie in tow with sprint sights set. I was in luck to be on the upside and broke free to launch at the finish line, thought I'd left the run too late but was saved by the last dip to hit 56 (OMG, 104 cadence!) commandeering the chocolates.
Wozza's What'sApp weather warning waried me Friday morning, after Wednesday's wetting I shied away from riding in favour of a dry and warm bed.
Week 16 : 299 km YTD 4,811 km
Had a wardrobe malfunction on Saturday, the 14 degree forecast halved to 7 and a promised mild northeaster swung to a cool SSE, fingers and knees lodging protests at the chill. I joined Temple at 5, keen to tour a prologue to the Couldabeens lap, a chance to extend the usual distance and re-educate the rear-end from the regular routine. A Mitchell Rd fox and a River Rd possum was our wildlife documentary, a magnificent moon made light beyond our l.e.d.'s. Hunting between the 17 and 15 for the comfortable cadence (wishing for sweet sixteen) the 17 was eventually elected, if only to provide a little warmth in the legs. We'd bounded Boundary and chartered Channel, making it to Doyles before eight Couldabeens came into view, Jase, SpinDoctor Rudy, Cougar, PistolPete, AvantiTrev, Trav, Eamon and Fisky, all rugged up for a fresh fourty kays, Easter's agenda and cursing the celcius's the main chat stats of the lap. An easy speed (in Rocket's absence?) allowed limbs to warm without burning, but Fisky flattened on the Cosgrove rail line, inducing an intermission of puncture protocols. Soon back underway, the monster moon's yellow light was almost head-on for the 15k Lemnos-Cosgrove & Ford Rd return, an eastbound Cat collection culled 'cause of cold? Temple and I took a tame turn into Wanganui Rd (to minimise the rear whip) taking the bunch up to pace by DECA where Rudy's race urge unleashed, Pistol and Eamon unable to resist the chase. Calmed again for Rudd Rd's recovery, we'd reeled in Stace, Comet, Sootie and HWK (astride two wheels again, retirement rumours rescinded) en-route to a testing Tri tap. Back to base camp, Ryan had the Lemontree heater stoked, an egg & bacon sandwich (more like a main course) filled my tank, Thursday's thrash, Alzheimer's, drugs in sport and wobblies filled the conversation.
Clocks were changed but my cranial cronometer was still at daylight savings setting Sunday. Up and about an hour early, boredom drove an early circuit, cranking away the hour on the Old Dookie-Boundary-Channel block, Heady seen heading outbound (with similar time trouble?) as I cranked inbound, steering to Friars to meet PinarelloMatt, BigPaul and Tum for a calm cruise of the Goat track. A soloist had swung into Old Dookie Rd a k ahead, landmarks recalled from months ago suddenly now visible with the sun rising earlier. We caught the soloist (Peter) on the turn into Boundary (tagging on for a tow) as wine, burnouts and weekend chores were chewed over, sentences now possible where weekday rolling turns usually don't permit much more than a word. A somewhat slow motion circuit enjoyed, PinarelloMatt and BigPaul in rare contention for line honours as Tum and I coasted Conrod.
Like a bindii through your last tube or the appearance of Wobbly in the bunch, a chill shuddered the bones (from Wednesday's southerly), all trace of Autumn's warmth blown rapidly (24-39 km/h) away. Ah, the joys of dripping noses, iced ears and numb toes is about to beset us again! Couldabeens numbers down, proportional to the temperature, set south on Archer, a lone light lagging behind caused a pause in pace but there was no gain (and the light soon vanished) so it was back on the boil. A bunch fracture (unreported to the front) put the handbrake on again at the roundabout, unity finally found for the leg to Mitchell Rd. Disheartened my physical state wasn't up to the mental state's demands (Easter egg attrition or the legacy of two days off?) it was a hard push to Archers' end and not much better with the breeze to the starboard side in Mitchell Rd. I swallowed my introspective twaddle to rue Rockets remarkable recouperative remedy, ten days beachside or was it the Fiji Gold that puts potence in the projectiles' pace? Hollywood's lime green ensemble and co-ordinated accessories lit up with the sun's earlier rise in River Rd, haute couture of Princess proportions . We didn't cross Cat paths till Boundary Rd, my legs and lungs were in a stop work meeting arguing with mental motivation to the Broken Bridges, Wozza saving my bacon with a tow. Wozz and I scored lead-out priveliges again for the Cha Cha (Rocket returning to rule the roost), a lengthy leg to regroup by Doyles for the cruise back to town. Happy to be home and heated by raisin toast and coffee, pondering the tune up needed for a worn engine.
Gripped by the doona's half Nelson Thursday morning, the intention of a 5am prologue was mentally shelved, so slumbered till a Goat lap at 6 beckoned. A litany of lasses, larrikans and ledgends assembled at Friars, Tegan (13) definitely representing the development squad. A paired procession plied Old Dookie Rd eastward, soon into syncronicity toward a slowly lit horizon. The Genesis line oncoming was given space for their Cat chase into Boundary Rd, 17 Goats grouping (or groping?) for the southerly spin to River Rd. Reassuring to get Deb's roll call in the change from down line to up line, Tina's tranquil transition a contrast to Joe's joust. River Rd passed quickly under the Michelins, pleasing to have sunlight to guide our westward mission (if only for a few weeks). By Mitchell Rd I was craving Raftery's tail breeze, my h.r. monitor finally out of first gear (82 bpm) into a believable 150. Apexing Roubaix and clicking the chain to the 13 for the grind to the horse stud may have been overtly opportunistic or overly optomistic, but the stars were steadily aligning for me into Conrod; the moon was in Belly's house, Coggo was rising and I was on Hommy's Uranus. Avanti Leigh, Belly and Coggo thrashed toward the final fifty metres, Hommy hit the mental wall of abandonment as I emerged from his draft, the last dip delivering me a slingshot (56 clicks @ 181bpm) to cherish the chocolates (and fan the fortunes).
Deb fronted Friars on Friday, the sugar amongst the old salts (on a macho mission), but turned tail for home seeing the line up. (A regular steady lap needed administrators?) Phill, Coggo, Brendan, Heady, Principal Skinner, Belly, AvantiLeigh and Tim, gilded with a glimmer of guilt, ground out Old Dookie Rd, most on the chapter about high 30's, but some a page or two behind. I'd got safely sandwiched between Coggo and AvantiLeigh, Principal Skinner taking the roll-call duties in Boundary Rd. A few more had retired to the rear rest room for River Rd but all made a recovered comeback in Central Kialla. A profusely perspiring BigBen was caught at Archer Rd, delighted to join in (Notre Dame Catless on his commencement) to make ten. Off the throttle with chins wagging over the highway and exiting Roubaix, curry to the cadence up to the horse stud reduced it to four drivers on the swing into Conrod (Belly blissfully sitting on for the free tow, slyly schemeing his sprint). Hung out to dry on the final 500 metres, I had nill NOs to answer Belly's blast, but was content to finish a lap (and the week) with tenacious teamwork.
Week 15 : 271 km YTD 4,512 km
