Week 26. Feeding a distance hunger

Post 351

Saturday 25th June

Just a little breathtaking in the first few k's of Saturday's precursor lap, setting off on a Grand Fondo obsession in the wee small hours at -0.8 degrees had knobs on it!  Trying to relax the internal speed goal and roll with what the legs and lungs could tolerate for a 28k solo was part one of a testing trilogy to satisfy Strava's target (and the OCD in me).   Out New Dookie Rd to the church, and back via the Toaster, Boundary and Channel Rd, I was almost back to Kensington when a string of 13 Couldabeens LEDs appeared, u-turning to join Trav, Nev, Pistol, Wozz, Cate, Jase, Bruce, Cougar, TatPaul, Ange, Boof, Temple and Tina (on a diplomatic departure from the Goats) for Part 2.  Coping with the front-of-house duties was better than expected, I paired with Ange and Pistol (playing fairly on the accelerator) though my lungs were in the vice like grip of the chilled air.  I'd almost completed a social round of Couldabeens conversation when TatPaul's puncture prompted a halt beyond the church, the urge for Nev to use tyre levers instead of fingers sped the fix but didn't lessen the sledges.  The resumption had remixed the rotation, I'd berthed between Ange and Wozz to witness Cate's long and strong turn to Lemnos Rd as a poorly populated Pussycat peloton perambulated past eastbound.  Shorty-come-lately arrived, the bunch mostly silent now as sprint business loomed for Wanganui Rd.  With a further 60k left to reach my goal, I bowed out of another term at the front, lending a tow to the tail-enders to keep in touch with the masses was just as satisfying as the sprint. A social roll along the Boulevard barely substituted for missing the Lemontree chat, pit-stopping instead at Friars for a fast caffeine in the tank as Belly, Brendan, Sandy, Manny, Carl and Snow arrived.  Part 3 was yet another breathtaking start for the Toasters first clockwise k's, Manny's smooth spin was quite a contrast to Wayne's cataclysmic cadence last week.  Snow and Brendan took short shifts (paying the tax of laxness), Sandy finding her bike legs at the back (a far better effort than Hommy's hibernation under the doona).  Quite the chill taking an H2O swig, iced capped puddles in Boundary Rd's tabledrain driving winters reality home.  The weird matchbox sized black box on Manny's seat post was the new Garmin Varia radar,  a brilliant bit of bike bling, a saviour for the soloist.  Winters speed speed standards were yarned with Belly, any average in the low 30's reckoned to be a solid solo effort at this time of year (how the tides will turn in Spring!)  The light northwester turned west and blew Snow and Brendan's turns shorter, the tell tale signs of wear showing (a wandering line, dropped shoulders and a nodding head). Belly implemented Indian file in Mitchell Rd, I'd just finished a go on the front when given another shift from Archer to the highway.  Manny, Carl and Belly shared the load, Carl's long haul to Conrod's 500 metre marker was a gift for Belly's line honours, Snow suddenly found the go but the engine only gave him third. A cruise to Mandy's allowed Brendan and Sandy to rejoin, the banana & walnut toast (mentally savoured since the 5am start) was a tasty trophy for 120 k's clocked.  Goat gassbagging on windtrainers, Hommy's half-biking and the test of temperature bounced around the table. 

Sunday 26th June

A lazy afternoon aboard the Baum feeding the distance hunger, a quiet circuit mostly in Zone 2 and 3 in a cool 7 degrees (about as good as it got all day).  Ford and Boundary roads were deserted, 75rpm enough without frightening legs, a moment taken to pause to reboot a frozen Garmin.  Mitchell Rd toured instead of the oft ridden River, a memory lane of many laps past.  An evening chill had arrived hours early, a north northeaster cutting its way through the winter layers.  Back onto the familiar circuit at Kialla Central, over the highway, round Roubaix and back to town , June's target just a little closer.

Monday 27th June 

Doonitis symptoms were strong Monday morning, heavy eyelids, mentally thumbing through Bo's encyclopaedia of excuses, little strength to throw off the covers......was I turning into Hollywood curled up in his cosy crib?  Leaping from my bed at the thought, I put porridge in the tank and saddled up for a preliminary lap to the Goat peace train.  Ignoring the 3 degrees and patchy fog, I hovered in the low 30's out Channel Rd and up Boundary, only to have a moronic mushroom (big head, little stalk) take delight at honking me occupying the left 600mm of tarmac.  Almost back to Friars, I found Tum, MeridaJohn, Sandy, Belly and Principal Skinner underway, the half dozen merging Indian file the moment we reached city limits. Sandy and Principal Skinner sat back cringing at the cold (at least they were outdoors taking in a cool serve of concrete), the captaincy shared between Belly, Tum, MeridaJohn and I.  Somewhat anti-social single filed, it was a steady tap down Boundary and along River, time (or the lack of it) took me via the truck route and Archer to home, the coal face to face yet again.

Tuesday 28th June

A Toaster lap chosen for my insatiable Strava quest Tuesday, but it was pea soup for breakfast on the road with a thick fog hanging about. A slow dripping shower started off the front of the helmet, the outbound streetlights just a glow in a cloud.  Needing landmarks put my position in perspective, the further east the thicker the fog, quickly pocketing the specs when my wheel found the roads edge.  Slowing to a crawl to find Emu corner, the kit (and the mood) were weighed heavy with the damp, time starved to intercept with the Goats meant a solo mission mindset, better for the current state of speed (or lack of it!)  Some security felt when a solitary passing car gave a wide berth, the tail-light (the only rearward lifeline) obviously doing its job. My trek south seemed sluggish, westbound on River better, or was it just the smoother tarmac? Made it home with what felt like a kilo of water as passenger and satisfaction at surviving the elements.

Wednesday 29th June

A damp road dampened enthusiasm to the golf course and northern suburbs, but the mood brightened finding Wozz, Mel and Cate on the Couldabeens commute. (something reassuring finding like minded cyclusts about).  Carpark conversation as Boof, BamBam, AvantiTrev, Pistol, Shorty, Rocket, Bruce, Tina and ChrisA converged, the 6am flag summoning us south on Archers damp distance, AvantiTrev baptising me with all the puddles he could steer through. River Rd's pot hole had been mercifully filled, hard going beside Shorty (plenty of wattage for one who only gets out to play a few times a week), my chain groaning and squeaking from the damp and grit of a wet week. Softa arrived from the south in Boundary Rd as we turned north into it, seems an early arrival was treated to solo punishment. It felt like the handbrake was released on the turn into Channel Rd, the NNE'er off the brow inspired another turn at the rushin' front (previously off my menu).  Soon in at the deep end of the ChaCha swinging into Kinder corner, the bolt to Hopeful corner with Shorty and a dozen behind me asked the question "What to do?"  The role of sacrificial lamb was mine, full steam ahead at 48 (187 bpm) to lead out Wozza to Prentice Rd.  Wozza too was sprint fodder for the prime movers, starved of oxygen I was swamped by all, so cruised to Orrvale Rd with AvantiTrev and Cate to rejoin the clan on the roll back to town. Excitement on the return home with Boof, Softa, Cate and Mel, passing trucks on the damp Archer Rd, squeezing through the lane narrowed by a traffic island, suddenly skidding beside us to avoid a motoring malpractice ahead, the burning rubber a bilious breakfast.

Thursday 30th June

A summer's wind (NE at 24km/h) on a winter's day (7 degrees) propelled Wozz and I south to Thursday's Couldabeens, silence with the breeze behind and peace from the chain, finally well oiled. Trav, Bruce, Hoges, Rocket, Pistol, Kel, Bo, Boof and Nev fronted, all relishing a rare dry track.  Rocket launched off the start line and caught me napping, a full steam sprint to finally catch onto the draft at Kensington put me in the mental back seat from the beginning, only considering a turn (like Trav) with the wind assistance in Boundary Rd.  Pistol, Nev, Bruce and co piled on the pace southbound so the previous thought was dissolved, hang on for dear life the only option.  Turns went short and clockwise against the NNE on River Rd, I'd inherited the gatekeeper role, and trying to hold a reasonable line as the wind threw the wheels about wasn't a great help for Kel and Trav in the back seats, Hoges then Boof joining as speed spent 'em.  Full bore to Mitchell Rd, even Bruce called it a day, halting for traffic at the highway a godsend for recovery.  Rockets puncture seconds later was respiratory relief, the new tube's rupture lengthening the pit stop for Pussycats to pass.  Hoping for a quiet roll back to town was dashed, a dash to Conrod's finish line deemed duty, the sideshow of a Falcon nose first into a tree highlighting the tarmac's slipability. 

Friday July 1

Roads deemed too damp Friday (keen to keep bike and chain clean), besides, Strava satisfied achieving the monthly challenge (just!)

Week 26.      373km.       YTD 8,041km.

Week 25: Now is the winter of our discontent

Post 350

Only a couple of nibbles at the What'sApp invite for an early Saturday prologue but the reality of grey morning after a damp night left only Wozz and I at A Mart.   Southbound on Conrod straight dialled up the heartrate to 174 by Arcadia Downs, speed was nothing to brag about, I put it down to the push-through-porridge atmosphere.  I accepted Wozza's charitable tow in Mitchell Rd to calm the cardiac convulsions, the 3 k's respite a timely tonic preventing explosion (back to 150 bpm)    Paired again in Central Kialla eyes were this time averted from the Garmin gaze, setting a target at River Rd's dip to take tow two.  Reaching it, little cranial voices cried "HTFU", so pushed on to see where my limit lay. Almost ready to chuck in the towel when the hallowed centre white line appeared, heralding the rumble strips and Boundary Rd's intersection.  Into Wozza's tow for Boundary Rd harnessed the heartrate again, a Channel Rd pairing was buoyed by keeping to the agenda of a Couldabeens intercept at the carpark.  A frozen week had made way for 8 mild degrees, but the gloomy sky had made the kit-up an each way bet (Cate gloveless, BigRon jettisoned the jacket, Car+Mel legs exposed :) and a ménage of 3/4 knicks, booties and multiple layers were on show, whilst I mopped the brow from the prologues pace.  Pistol, Cougar, Kel, Ange, Rocket, Bo, Boof, Car+Mel, Shorty, Cate, Temple, HBK, Nev, Jase, NewbieRob, BigRon and AvantiMat crammed into the rear half of the grid, the 'doonitis' epidemic not as widespread as previously thought.  NewbieRob imploded reaching second wheel on leg 3, the following masses swamping his position to put him into the reality of rear-tirement. There was potent porky pungency in Old Dookie Rd, 99% humidity hurrying ham off the breakfast menu, HBK was hammered by Cate, Car+Mel, a long way off his form of umpteen months ago. Mine was a steady grind beside Bo to the Lemnos-Cosgrove kennels, pussycat population was poor crossing paths at the main channel, Ange then Wozz and Nev taking us in their tow to Grahamvale Rd where spice was added to the speed.  NewbieRob and Cougar bailed out via Verney for the pick of Lemontree seats, I'd again scored the backmarkers spot as we worked into Wanganui.  Cate braved the business end as the pace percolated at DECA, capable crankers BigRon, Nev, Boof, Wozz et al., relegated most others to 'also rode' in the Wanganui hill honours.  The weekends treat of post ride breakfast and banter absorbed with the warmth of the Lemontree heaters and friendships, but it ends all too soon with tasks beckoning at home.

Clutching at k's Tuesday (after Monday's rain ruined riding) feeling Strava's June challenge slipping from the grip, so I suffered the Boulevards headwind till reaching the well worn track of Wanganui, Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd's, glued to the 17 for some spin therapy (preparation for the westward slog back to town) on the 30k solo.  Winter had whittled numbers down to only dedicated Goats exiting the suburbs, Coggo, Sandy, Belly, Tina and Hommy, with foreigner Wayne into the rotation.  Hommy had the turbo turned up for his first tap at the front (boosted by the tailwind), I wonder how often that effort would be repeated?  Tina, Coggo and Belly's consistent crank was in stark contrast to Wayne's cataclysmic cadence, permanent residency in the little chainring a legacy of living in Bright?  The small bunch fractured in River Rd, Sandy, Hommy and Wayne OTA caused a calm to regroup, the accelerator squeezed gently to a revised tempo with Belly then a long grind to River's end beside Tina stopped the jaws flapping.  Wayne took to the front again in Central Kialla, the spin causing a snake like trajectory (tempting to throw in some egg whites and watch fluffy white peaks form!)   Another grind west in Mitchell Rd, the hard yards capably captained by Coggo, Belly and Tina, but the wind wore down resolves to Raftery Rd.  Left to lead into Conrod straight, I turned up the huff and puff till the 400 marker, handing the washing up to Coggo and Belly.

In the depths of winter Wednesday, a damp road, gloomy sky, fine misty moments of rain, a howler 20-37 km/h west-northwester, puddles to dodge (the delight of cold water up the inside leg when you don't!) was all just so inspiring! Now is the winter of our discontent. My prologue propelled east on New Dookie Rd but battled Ford Rd back, heartfelt thoughts were with those who's mojo had gone missing, seeking solace under their doona's warmth till it returns from oblivion.  Collecting Jase and Cate in the main drag, we teamed with Rocket, Boof, Bruce, Pistol, Shorty, Temple, Gazzagrasshopper, BamBam and HBK in the Couldabeens carpark, all engrossed in Boof's protracted puncture repair.  The flag finally dropped a little after 6, I took the reigns for leg one, controlling the acceleration more for my benefit than anyone else (the pairing with Pistol was payback for perambulating).  Heading east set a few records for most, the driving duty had come full circle for me to take on the last k of River and the first of Boundary, bearing the brunt of the breeze to the Broken bridges.  Plenty o' puddles and more misty rain put bike cleaning on everyone's "to do" list, winters damp dampening sprint interest for me and many, the decision to sit-out the ChaCha an easy one.  Ducking and diving to avoid the rooster tails of water, I had a spotty view of Boof, Rocket and Bruce disappearing toward the horizon, summoning up 40+ against a 26 km/h winter wind drew on reserves thought lost. 

Optimism returned Thursday, a dry track and moderate northerly prompted a prologue anticlockwise on the Thursday circuit to apprehend the clockwise Couldabeens and see if I could hold on.   9 k's of holiday before the headwind hurt in Central Kialla, using the rarely soiled 18 cog to make some sort of progress.  Pushed and shoved by the northerly on River Rd, I just got relaxed on the bars when I struck the new pot-hole (just west of the dip), a super sphincter pucker as one hand was jettisoned.  Trepidation arrived reaching River's end, a headwind again up to Channel Rd but there was wattage to preserve for the Couldabeens arrival. Just beyond Channels' cypress trees a string of LEDs approached, my u-turn to climb aboard with Wozz, Nev, Hoges, Pistol, Kel, Trav, Bo and Temple.  The pace wasn't too tortuous tucked in behind Hoges, and with Pistol on my tail, I rolled up the right line to put in a contribution.  Bearable in Boundary with the breeze behind, slicing virgin atmosphere with Hoges from the bridges to River, the art of levelling with your co-cranker seems lost with Hoges (ah but the apprenticeship is still in its early days).  Kel, containing cardiac crucifixion, sat on the back, others rolled through with the speed rising as Nev, Bo and Wozz rose to the top, the pace never really calmed thereafter.  My withdrawal from duty in Mitchell Rd coincided with Trav and Temple, Hoges just kept going back for more torture (though needed to call a roll with a little left in his tank rather than empty) My Garmin stopped conversation with the satellites at Roubaix corner, all turned Indian file at Galbraiths gate in preparation for Conrod's cruelty.  I kept a close wheel on gatekeeper Trav as the machines of Nev, Wozz and Pistol kept up the hurt, so pleased to see the 60 sign at Steptoe's and take aboard much craved oxygen.

Friday's 5am misty rain shut down my weeks effort, a clean Baum with a freshly lubed chain sat ready for Saturday (though Rocket, Ron and Pistol braved Antarctic conditions.....determined or delirious?)

Week 25:     261km.       YTD 7,668 km

Week 24 Speed chills!

Post 349

Fighting BigMat motivation (the lack of it) Saturday morning, the head in first gear but the rest of me in neutral at 4am, so the standard 5:45 Wozz rendezvous stood.  Snap, crackle and pop went my rice bubble limbs in the 'feels like four' atmosphere, peloton population predictions poor on a Queens birthday long weekend but surprised as the carpark filled with Boof, Bruce, Car+Mel, Cate, Shorty, AvantiTrev, Trav, Ange, Temple, ChrisA, Pistol, Cougar, AvantiMat, Jase, Kel and Bo.  Chocks away at six for twenty, the first and second legs seemed longer than its 3600 metres (the toil toll at the front with Jase then Boof eroded my effort), 162 bpm was well below the redline but the legs refused to give more.  In the tow at second wheel then at third began the transformation of wrung-out-wreck to human, a chat with AvantiTrev and Trav, and captivated by Kel's eyes (both sets) to Boundary Rd.   Line astern, the tenacious trio of Cate, Car+Mel moved up the right line, Boof battling the beginnings of man-flu, Temple talking the benefits of ride day, rest day, ride day, rest day while AvantiMat and Bo reclined in the back seats for the tow.  With Jase again (church to the Emu) then Boof (to the kennels), I got a feel of the light NW headwind, but with energy evaporating I set my lung busting limit at Woolshed Rd, ah the joy when Boof called an earlier roll!  The Wozza and Ange torque towed us west, Temple lined up the puddles spotting Kel and Cougar (so much for keeping a bike clean) and Nev arrived northbound on Grahamvale.  At the back of the bunch as it entered Wanganui, I had Cate itching for a sprint on my wheel, by the test track I'd been rapidly promoted to the front (Q: How to hold 45? A: a draft from Nev rolling across soon after!) as Wozza, Boof, ChrisA, Bruce and cohorts bolted up the hill.   Lemontree lingo on hipster coffee, beards, star signs and sayings, hot coffee and toast sustained as the social cup overflowed, draining the will to leave the warmed seats for a chilled ride home.

Overthinking a different course on the Queens birthday, work beckoned but a later start allowed extra k's.   Saddled up on a deserted road at 5:20, an instant ice-cream headache (without the ice-cream!), the gauge frozen on zero, pointed anticlockwise on a Toaster lap and "will I, won't I?" thoughts about an extension bouncing around the brain in Mitchell Rd.  'Carpe Diem' won, a long slog south on Central Kialla Rd in search of Karramomus Rd in the fog.  8k's down I finally found it, the narrowing 6k track east was as rough as hessian undies.  I found the Shepp-Euroa Rd sooner than expected, thoughts of headlight failure in the wild black yonder fading as light slowly filled the sky.  8k's dragged like an election campaign reaching the East Goulburn main channel, finding my second wind crossing the Midland 5k later, a spell on the 15 rich reward from the incessant 17 spin.  East to the Toaster and north to the Emu, ahead the westerly drive home, behind an orange dawn, Caribou's "Sun" setting a trippy musical metronome.  Time off the Fizik was becoming essential to keep the speed inspired but rubber legs lagged to make repeating step 1 necessary.  A decomposing Mazda (progressively picked of parts) sat sparkling with an iced cap in Ford Rd, the endorphins of achievement slowly flooding the head numbed the grizzles of the gastrocnemius, the 6 k's of Wanganui, Rudd and the Boulevard ticked off 70.

It was chin on the headstem behind Rocket, but I was placed in the prime position (2nd wheel, left line) 

for a draft to the Channel Rd S bends till duty called.  Tuesday's Couldabeens were driven quickly by Rocket and Wozz, Chops and Pistol, Nev and Trav, my turn with Bruce at the S bend to Boundary then to the Broken bridges with Rocket had me spent of speed, was it ruined by rapidity or Rocket reputation?  Pistol, Rocket, Wozz and Nev took the reigns to River Rd, the reality sitting Chops, Trav and I swiftly in the survival seats, heart-rate still on the boil 3 k's later ended my contributions for the morning.   River Rd finished, Central Kialla gone in a blink, the Mitchell Rd masochism had me off the Fizik climbing Dave's dip just to keep in touch.  Pack cracks appeared over Melbourne Rd as Bruce buckled, viewing valiant attempts by Trav to reach the front told me to sit back, shut-up and hang on!   Nev and Rocket drawing away in Conrod and the rare sight of Pistol pooped (albeit with just 500 metres left) told me I was swimming in the wrong gene pool, all my Jellybeans were spent into holding onto second last place. 

My OCD (obsessive cycling disorder) kicked in Wednesday despite less than zero showing on the thermometer, a short 11k warm up (ha ha!) on the golf course loop a form of preparation for the Couldabeens.    Temperature didn't deter Wozz, Cate, Mel (-Car), Ric, Cougar, Boof, Choppy, Nev, Bruce, Trav, Temple, Weapon, HBK, BamBam, AvantiTrev and Jase fronting the carpark.  The launch at 6 had no volunteers to pair with Wozz towing the team solo, eventually Bruce, Chops and Nev stepped up, my glance back saw a long thin line of trailing disciples, so I braved the up line with Nev to join the party faithful. Pleased to measure up to the Nev standards in Mitchell Rd and matched the Boof specifications in Central Kialla Rd, the bunch bore into River Rd, but an oncoming car veered into our eastbound lane causing a cardiac convulsion.  I'd hoped it was an unintended lapse of concentration (a foggy screen maybe?), at worst preoccupied with texting?, surely not a deliberate swerve-and-scare tactic?   A calm of nerves with no casualties (Trav ready to purchase a lottery ticket) the wheels of rotation resumed,  Ric (now dubbed "Softa") emerging from a work blamed ride relapse, Mel proving the cool climate was kitted in longs :(  and Weapon, tempered temperature tough from a Cairns 70.3 Ironman (5hrs.17) at a tropical 27, braved the Couldabeens cold at -0.4 three days later.  I'd gradually been rotationally relegated to the rear, the caboose KPI being a lookout behind found us enveloped in a wall of black, not a star to guide our passed / past perspective. By the northern trek light had shed a view of fog at one tree dam, Wozz and Nev leading the sixteen swiftly to Channel Rd.  Stones at Sellmans were flicked from under tyres to ping the corrugated iron fence, no reply from Darth Vader though, curled up warm in the dog house no doubt.  Choppy charged Channels' ChaCha chasing championship choice, cheekily challenging chosen chasers (HBK jumped in pursuit but had a Hiroshima moment soon after), the real movers, Wozz, Nev and Bruce streaking into the distance as I snuggled into the Indian filed line of survivors to hang onto the draft to finish. 

A promised 4 degrees didn't arrive Thursday, I suppose 1 degree was twice as hot as Wednesday but it did little for motivation (better than Oymyakon in Russia averaging 50 below!)   Coggo, Manny, Tina, PrincipalSkinner, MeridaJohn, Sandy, Belly and a helmet-less Hommy (numb skull?) fronted Friars at 6 keen to keep moving, Carl joining in at SPC.  MeridaJohn and I cut through the iced atmosphere on Old Dookie Rd, the effort delivering 10-15% less than usual pace, Manny and Sandy taking permanent rear residence.  Speed settled a little lower beyond Dobsons, the standard set at survival rather than speed.  There's rather skewed thermal physics of going faster to warm up, speed chills and so it snowballs.   Coggo had back tracked to collect struggling Sandy (OTA), PrincipalSkinner  gave one more turn before rear-tirement elevating some hope to my own state of fitness.   As fingers and toes numbed, I pondered why are we doing this? Keeping in tune? (earning the rites to thrash emerging hibernators in Spring), Sympathy and support for similarly suffering cyclists?,  A refrigerated religious ritual?, Some kinky voyeuristic frozen flagellation?,  Climatising for Oymyakon?     A lost light lit Boundary Rd northbound then u-turned to join, Gazzagrasshopper had apparently missed the Couldabeens and found Goats gracious with an inclusion.   At the helm, MeridaJohn's peripheral vision didn't include Belly, a bike in arrears, he seemed content to head the herd solo while Belly mused the lost art of teamwork.  Hats off to Gazzagrasshopper on a fair pair with Belly to River's end, my adieu's bid for the shortcut home as the enemy of time tolled. 

All kitted up and raising the front Michelin to 125 when the heavens opened Friday morning, no filthy bike and dried worms for me, leave it to the ducks to play in water, June's Strava challenge is on target.  

Week 24.     241km.         YTD 7,407km

Week 23: Disciples decimated!

Post 348

Starved of k's from two days of rain, the addiction was finally fed Monday, a longer lap as a k catch-up, clicking over 10,000k's on the Baum (235 days old).  A solo start to the week, no draft to delight but then no set speed to sustain, feeling comfort considering time off the perineum.  An extension made to the usual track, out to the Cosgrove quarry to add 14 clicks and a change of scenery, albeit in headlight rather than daylight, distant farmhouse globes glowed, the quarry lights sillhouetting Boral's basalt mountains of gravel.  Enveloped by darkness in a car-free stretch of New Dookie Rd, a little westerly (4-9 km/h) was of little consequence on the little 17 cog.  Reaching the church at 6 and rolling fume free in Old Dookie past Porky's palace, I pondered a Goat intercept at Boundary Rd (but not a led was seen).  South in Boundary and across the Midland, lights way behind now followed as I crossed the Broken bridges.  Up a cog in River Rd to set a Goat goal going, it was head down for the six k grind, an east bound Roscoe (all of 2k from home) u-turned but my course was the truck route home, no scenic sunrises today, just dismal grey skies to welcome a working week.

Why am I eating breakfast at 4:40, kitted for 7 degrees and preparing to be punished by the winter wind? Riding over-ridden by obsession?  New Dookie, Boundary and Old Dookie was selected to spin a prologue prior to a grind with Goats, 20km/h blown up the behind inflated the ego to Boundary Rd, common sense asking "What have I done?" turning west into the headwind.   That careful blend of frustration, purpose, stubbornness (and a dash of angry) cooked up a cadence to get back to town, helped by using 17 teeth on the back wheel.  A deserted Friars at 5:58 suggested a solo would continue, but at the third stroke, Belly, Coggo and MeridaJohn saved the day.  (how a few dull days decimate the disciples!)   An unspoken but understood formation to single file out of town was tempo'd by the tailwind, Coggo carrying the quadrella to Dobsons bridge for me to tow to Central.  Pain train in formation, speed was solid rather than scintillating, MeridaJohn keen to crank up a couple of k's, Belly setting a pace for the long run.  Coggo's big turn to the bridge in Boundary inspired me to drive to Channel Rd, hoping MeridaJohn didn't hit the boost button when he sniffed the front. Belly braved the breeze on the brow in River Rd, Roscoe (arriving eastbound) hitching a ride in the rear seat when he u-turned near the dip.  MeridaJohn poured on the purpose in Central Kialla, unhitching Roscoe rapidly, back the original quadrella to finish.  A damp tarmac grimed the bike, the sandpaper scraping on the wheels was like fingernails down the blackboard squeezing the brakes at the highway.   Raftery Rd's three k's rotated the foursome to hand me the Conrod conclusion, MeridaJohn with the wattage in the last 200 metres to take the chocolates.

Out on the early trail again Wednesday, the road glossed from overnight rain to gild the bike with mud and worms, just a quiet loop of the north of town then the pleasure of Mel and Cate company for the Couldabeens commute.  (Bruce, Choppy, Boof, Pistol, Rocket, Shorty, AvantiTrev, Cougar, Temple and HBK represented the die hards at the carpark).  In a deliberate positioning midfield, I avoided an early shift, Boof, Bruce, Rocket and Pistol admirably driving the dozen south to Mitchell Rd.  HBK, on his once a week pilgrimage was swiftly shattered by Shorty, my turn at the business end was with care from Cate but rotisseried by Rocket (déjà vu from last week), as the NNE perplexed my performance and projected Poppa's preamble from passing pussycats.  Temple wound up the knots toward Channel, the hint of a northerly softening me but had no effect on Rocket.  I'd decided by the cypress trees in Channel Rd to sit out the sprint, it was down to Bruce, Pistol, Chops, Boof and Shorty to drive to the Cha Cha, by Hopeful corner Rocket had kicked open a gap from them to the "also rode's".  I'd become the B team tow truck at Kinder corner, Temple moving up to offer a brief respite at Prentice Rd with Cate and Mel nipping at our heels, the cheek of HBK emerging from a long draft to amble by for a minor placing!  Temple and Cate collected those dropped, all reforming at Archer for the verbal post mortem homeward. 

I succumbed to a damp and dreary Thursday morning, a prologue swiftly struck off the duty roster, opting for a lazy 5am breakfast and relaxed kit-up instead, Belly's What'sApp invite scoring few takers.  It was a tour of trepidation to Friars, the wait on a deserted grid till 5:57 was ominous, had most turned to marshmallow? Belly and Tina were the only ones with fortitude to front, it was chocks away at six with a single filed, long shifted attack, my turn to Central Ave, Tina to Boundary and Belly to the highway and repeat the dose as necessary (till cured). I scored the blessed leg to River Rd (tailwind),  tenacious Tina bore into 3 k's of River Rd, Belly the remainder, mine another wind assisted stretch to Mitchell. Tina's determined drive to Melbourne Rd left me feeling I'd made an ordinary contribution, Belly's effort to Arcadia Downs reinforcing the thought. After the holiday in Belly's draft, I opened the throttle to Conrod's end, an elbow for Tina to take the chocolates was taken by Belly. Consensus reached that a solid lap by just a few was better medicine than being dragged around by a bigger (and sometimes erratic) bunch. 

Would a clean bike stay that way? Friday's warm up found the track dry, this old engine running like a spark plug lead was off, but it's a therapist needed rather than a mechanic in the clutches of winters lethargy and performance appraisal.  A Wozz and Cate rendezvous lifted the spirits, Bruce, Chops, HBK, Nick, Shorty, Rocket, Boof, Pistol, AvantiTrev, Nev, Jase and Trav at the Couldabeens carpark congregated, comparing cleaning cycles. Away at six, we were barely a k south when an intermission was called for a PistolPete puncture.  The restart shuffled the pack, an overtaking semi squeezed in ahead of us at the Sanctuary roundabout, the impatient Toyota behind finding us fifteen first in doesn't fit a car too.  Berthed between Shorty (3 rides in 1 week) and Nick (3 rides in 3 weeks), I cherished the chinwag on the way to the hyperventilating end, arriving at the front full of beans beside Shorty till a k took its toll, then almost hitting the "disTNTance" beside Nick when he saved the day with a timely roll. A decent recovery for the rest of River Rd, North on Boundary then west on Channel, rising through the ranks in the right line put me at the pointy end nearing the Kinder (Nick now awol), Jase to match as the Garmin read 40 (grateful he rolled over headed to Hoepful corner).  Wozza was the sprint sacrifice again, swamped by Pistol, Bruce, Boof and co, meanwhile in the cheap seats, I left the gate open for Cate (hung out drying in the right lane), a few of us mere mortals plucking off the pickled protagonists of pace as Orrvale Rd loomed close, the Cha Cha puddles undoing last nights bike bath.    The calm crank homeward contemplated how lucky we are to relish a ride, when so many have been struck down by that dastardly disease of doonitis.

Week 23.   252km.          YTD 7,166km

Week 22. Ride or subside

Post 347

Saturday's drizzle kept most under the doona and there were no takers on a WhatsApp invite for a Sunday social spin (supplementary starters soft or just sensible?), something to do with a 1.4 degree start?  The full winter kit made an appearance, merino base layer, booties and neck sock insulating against the ice, finding the smooth car-worn groove of Channel Rd was a plus over the temperature. Not a soul on the road strangely enthused my mission, no records set or broken but there's something satisfying in bragging rights of braving the elements.  East on Old Dookie Rd and into the dawn, QOTSA's "My God is the Sun" provided the metronomic motivation to the Toaster, but it was psychological warmth only from the big ball in the sky.   Pointing back toward town it was nice to get into the rhythm of a steadily increasing speed and hitting the magic Mavic note without blowing a gasket, a couple of Lemnos-Cosgrove k's lost just zoning out, glued to the 17 cog at 76 rpm, each kilometre done was one closer to coffee. Wanganui Rd was welcomed, the Boulevard had cars like a cake shop all topped with icing, made the Lemontree's banana toast taste even better!  Dion, Mel, Cobbles, Sherls, Jason, BigBen arriving gave credence to the cold.

Trying to tick the May distance box on Monday on a New Dookie - Boundary - Old Dookie lap (a precursor to a Goat group peace peloton).  Fresh, bracing, invigorating and brisk weren't the right words, "faarctic" more descriptive of New Dookie roads atmosphere. Despite the frosted lungs and iced calves I was happy with the velocity, the draft from half a dozen passing cars maintaining momentum.   A cool contained train of peace people (Principal Skinner, Heady, Hommy, Coggo, MeridaJohn, Phil, Spiessy, Sandy and Belly) exited town, half wheeling Hommy at it again but I felt it too cold to scold.  Heady looking forward to sunny Spain next week, Sandy in the caboose with Spiessy and Principal Skinner joining it after just one turn at the front.   It's ride or subside as winter welds the doona up around the ears, 'use it or lose it' as they say (prepare for the pain if it's the latter). There's a smug sensation in tackling the winter elements, work colleagues huddled around heaters, lethargically mumbling and moaning into their morning caffeine fix are stunned at our stamina (or struck by our stupidity?)   River roads end and the tick of the clock dictated my regular short cut home, the tangerine horizon sillhouetting the poplars rooted in fog treated me to a scenic spin home, satisfaction meeting the monthly measure of 1250 k's with a day up the arm-warmer. Hump month may be tough.

Three B doubles in close company donated a draft for Wozz and I (Caterpillar kilowatts warming the air a degree or two off zero) to arrive early at the Couldabeens carpark on Tuesday.  I berthed first but Wozz gridded to my left, handing me a double shift in the chilled Channel Rd air, leaving me Rocket to match for leg 2!   Rehab in the Rocket and BigRon draft on leg 3 was a long one, recuperative effects of 0.4 degrees on the lungs was rather average, then tried to suppress the primal groans of recovery when Nev drove the train.  Hooray for Trav and Kenworth taking the pot off the boil and simmer the speed a fraction, AvantiTrev locked into the caboose position.  Pistol, just back from sunny Queensland, didn't miss a beat, pairing with Wozz to silence the bunch swiftly south in Boundary Rd.  2k's at the front in River Rd cooked me medium rare, velocity bumped up by Rocket, Nev and BigRon was hard to hold onto. The defeatist inside was discouraging a dip in Mitchell Rd, but I defiantly stepped up for duty, speed a little slower, heart rate a lot higher and the length a little shorter to Archer Rd., cherishing Choppy's encouragement but submitting to the satan of surrender, leaving Nev, Wozz, Pistol, BigRon, Rocket and Chops to drive the train.  Didn't feel so bad shirking a shift as Kenworth and Trav had rear-tired too, content that this old engine can still match one or two young 'uns.  Swiftly single file at Arcadia Downs the conga line cranked to Conrod, Rocket donating a long lead-out for Wozza to chase the chocolates.

Positively balmy at 4 degrees Wednesday, a preliminary 20k of the soup tin - golf course course, the chain silently satisfied with a long awaited lube. I found Wozz and Cate in town to tour to the carpark, Hoges, Cougar, Chops, Shorty, SuperMario, BigRon, Bo, Boof, PistolPete, Rocket, AvnatiTrev, Temple and BamBam ready to roll in Archer St.  It was a lax leg one beside Hoges waiting for the regroup after Pistol's phone did a dismount, then back to the usual velocity with Wozz to the truck route.  SuperMario was suffering the two-rides-in-six-weeks syndrome, Temple content in the rear seat, Hoges still with an MTB trajectory, Cate consistently courageous facing the front.   MeridaJohn and Tum were the only two Goats out to play westbound in River Rd, the double tail-light ahead spelt Craig Lotsalumens, space given to his usual southbound turn into Boundary Rd as we swung north.   Hiding the hurt, I maintained some control in Channel Rd to the S bend with Wozz, relishing the recovery beyond while trying to suppress the groans of gasping. Half the field had ducked into the draft as we swung into Kinder corner, Hoges keen to contend the Cha Cha, who was I to argue waiting in his wake?  Rocket sacrificed all on a long lead-out, BigRon's turn was cut short craving kilowatts, Wozza, preparing to pounce on my wheel, scorched by to make it two from two in two days. 

A struggle for speed Thursday, spending the 25k prologue pondering personal performance, decisions of joining the Goats / being caught by Couldabeens / soaking up the serenity of a solo circuit, constantly being assessed east to the Emu and south to the Toaster.  (some days feeling Ferarri, others Festiva)  The softer choice was too easy reaching Boundary Rd, a solo it was predicting I'd handbrake the Goats and go OTA from the Couldabeens.   Spin spin spin to River Rd on the 17, cursing the mere hint of a SSE'er .  A fog crawled across River Rd to vex the vision, specs already steamed by 98% humidity, an oncoming car with lights welded on high beam cursed cornea's and perplexed pupils.  A disco drongo headed toward me, his headlight on strobe almost provoking epilepsy.  A glance back in Mitchell Rd saw pinpoints of headlights behind, time to be treated to the 15 for a spell, instant 10% improvement on speed to buoy the brain homeward taking solace in ticking 50k's done.

Lazed in the luxury of placid porridge and calm caffeine Friday, aboard the Baum on a 5:40 late shift to rendezvous with Wozz and Cate for a Couldabeens convergence. (Pain train popularity pining)   Hoges,  Nick, BamBam, Chops, AvantiTrev, Pistol, Rocket, Boof, Cougar, HBK, Kel, Bo and Kenworth arriving for action. Challenges compared with Cate, their motivational value in woeful weather and the addiction of achievement agreed.  Away at 6, it was Groundhog Day with Hoges to the Sanctuary roundabout, but a follow up with Pistol was punishment to the truck route.   HBK no sense no feel in short knicks, a River Rd bunch tsunami from one erratic on the cadence, but then smooth operator Kel captained the cranking to carry us to Boundary. My legs said no to the head saying yes to reaching Channel Rd at the front, Pistol pummelling my pulminories.  Much easier facing Channel Rd with most ahead of me donating to the drive, tempting to sit and sook on my sluggishness but the position was prime as the speed brewed to hopeful corner.  Wozza had the helm as the pot came to the boil at Prentice Rd, sinking his all into a lengthy lead-out.  Kenworth cranked forward but over cooked the torque curve, Bo buckled as the field swelled elbow to elbow as many synchronised their limit.  Pistol provided the last ditched drive but it was possessed projectiles Boof and Rocket that Irish jigged on the cranks for honours, a fair finish for Foss from furtively forlorn to fourth in a few furlongs.

Week 22     290km.          YTD 6,914km

Great to have BassoDave out of hospital and home.  Hope the recovery is rapid Dave!

Week 21 : The climate cull

Post 346

Five degrees was the short straw to take on a grand fondo Saturday, but there's a strive to smash a Strava challenge before the month runs out. A 5am start with Wozz, Trav, Kel & Bo, the first shift to Arcadia Downs flogging Foss (yet the speed seemed sluggish), Christmas on a stick to have Wozz roll across at Galbraiths gate to reduce the effort 15%.  I felt warm seeing Kel in short knicks (winter kit still in hibernation), Ange brashly blending into the bunch as we crossed the highway.  My second appearance at the front (first 2k of River) was a little easier on the heartrate, improving on leg 2 with Wozz to the dip, the red led ahead driving the pace. Quite the chill in Channel (orchard irrigation) as we caught Jase, arriving back at the 6am grid with 4 minutes of jaw exercise with AvantiMat, Ric, Boof, ChrisA, Shorty, Nick, Temple, AvantiTrev, Rocket, Cougar, newbie TatChris and Gazzagrasshopper.  Nineteen eastbound barely got into the groove when the snap of TatChris's spoke ground us all to a halt, the buckle binding brakes, forcing his take 2 next week? Eighteen resumed with a reckless road running rabbit causing a short scatter, but got co-ordinated for the trip to Boundary. The usual social sentences swapped as others drove, piggery pong again assaulting the olfactory openings in Old Dookie Rd.  The turn into Lemnos-Cosgrove repeated the rapidity from last Saturday (maybe it should be Strava segmented as the "breakfast bolt"?), most had a crack at the pointy end as the sun struggled to rise, Ange grinding the little cog to Ford Rd.   Gazzagrasshopper, languishing in the caboose, predictably bolted early in Wanganui Rd, fleeing futile with master blaster ChrisA, Wozz, Boof and Bo to hunt down the escapee. Group two stayed intact, I'd become the unwilling tow truck for a while till Ange's torque took over.  Still 40k shy of my target, it was hard to break from the bunch in the Boulevard but the urge to tick the Fondo challenge box was strong.  A hard slog to the church on New Dookie road away from the comfort of a bunch draft, pushing 66 rpm burned the psoas major but trying the 17 cog (74 rpm) only slowed the pace.  The perineum was touchy as ninety k's ticked over, round the Toaster and onto Boundary Rd, hopes of a Channel Rd finish denied by Garmin, a River Rd-Archer ending needed to go the distance.  Oncoming Adams family factions (3) meandered on River Rd (pleased the distance between me and WobblyTrev was increasing)  There was a mental mountain to conquer on the 8k's west to Archer Rd, trying to drive the legs on when they'd rather rest, coffee with walnut & banana toast my only motivator to continue. Spirits lifted as the town drew closer, a double check on the distance needed a lap of SPC to get 115 done.  The mafia nicotine nimbus hung over the Lemontree table, so I retired to Mandy's and soaked up a long-time-no-chat with Barnsey, CatKev and Hoffy (the incoming Adams') and mon ami Weapon.

A wanton westerly was drying the road soaked by a 4am shower, no excuses left, all aboard for a Monday tap around. The Boulevard baptism was tough, facing the 30km/h wind head-on was not the way to start a week.  Grumps for three k's turned to grins in Wanganui Rd, a tailwind to artificially pamper the ego.  Puddle chicanes manoeuvred south down the main drag, then into the serious moonlight of Raftery Rd.  Southbound lights at Archer Rd turned to follow my trail to River Rd.,  Gazzagrasshopper and Lucy (gazzadazzled?) on a "light tap" (40+) caught me at Laws Drive, silly me jumped aboard.  Feeling the responsibility to contribute a turn I clicked the shift to the 13 cog, a big grind on River's smoothed tarmac in the low 40's soon the spiked heartrate, not quite on my 'tap around' specification. The pace was still driven hot in Boundary Rd, so I opted to continue onto Old Dookie as the pair plied west in Channel. Craving all two k's to settle the lungs and legs in preparation for the headwind home, Old Dookie Rd's battle was relentless (it was ye olde rubber legs by School Rd)  giving up the hope of holding 33 clicks home. 

Boulevard - Rudd - Wanganui - Ford - Boundary and Old Dookie warmed up ancient legs on Tuesday, attempting to solve the equation of rpm>h.r.-speed=effort.  Tried an 80 rpm spin and found the headwind (15km/h) bearable back to town.  A u-turn at SPC fitted me into the Goat group (PrincipalSkinner, Joe, MeridaJohn, Dipper, Heady, Brendan, Coggo, Hommy, Phil, HG Phillo, Sandy, Belly, Snow, MeridaAndy and a voice in the darkness at the back).   Belly and I were on escort duties out of town as the order sorted, HG Phillo on the usual two length lag, Skinners sublime smoothness, Brendy's cassette racket, the turbine tune from Phil's wheels, Coggo's consistency, Heady's humour and Sandy's roll call,  all familiar Goat traits.  MeridaAndy's rare appearance proved he hadn't retired, Hommy proved his half wheeling (beside me) was embedded in his DNA.  Normally letting his habit slide, today I snapped to a pronto payback, a squirt into the fourties at the Boundary Rd bacon barn backed him out, Belly and I then calming the cadence to preserve some friendships.  Others turned short, medium and long to take us south, a concerted effort to behave at the helm smoothed out the ripples in River Rd, certainly hard work at the driving end into an almost head wind but plenty to share the work helped the recovery.   The enemy of time turned me right at Rivers end, tapping the usual short cut home with the chain complaining from damp days.

Chipped away at the k's early Wednesday, close to the Strava target with 6 days left.  Warm up times are longer as the days get shorter, even holding low 30's was a haul, the bureau's "feels like 4" part to blame? 15k's covered arriving at the carpark, Nick, Shorty, Chops, Boof, HBK, Rocket, Cougar, Temple, Mel (-Car), Cate, TatPaul, AvantiTrev and AvantiMat congregating collectively as Couldabeens.  Volunteers for the right lane were rare after Kialla Lakes, I slipped in behind HBK with Rocket and Boof ahead.  BigRon joined in as HBK and I took the helm, HBK's turn as short as Labor's funding estimates, AvantiTrev measuring up to a real turn. The east northeaster furrowed brows in River Rd, Mel almost unrecognisable in long kit, Rocket and Boof making the headwind look easy. HBK short shifted again in Boundary Rd, out of steam in esteemed company he tells me. Nick drove a hard bargain to the S bend for the first shift of Channel Rd, many now withdrawing from being promoted to the business end, though Cate was fearless fronting for duty as the Cha Cha loomed near.  Choppy set a cracking cadence up to Prentice Rd, I'd arrived at the front way too early (again) so succumbed to the sacrifice of the sprint with a lead-out on full throttle.  50 lasted a little longer than previous attempts, but I was soon relegated to rubbish with Rocket and Boof launching an attack with 200 metres left, how soon I slipped to the 'also tried' as lungs got greedy to aerate the blood supply. 

I felt guilty sleeping in till 6 Thursday, rain berthing the Baum and reintroducing me to the delights of a doona.  Infectious isn't it?! The obsessive prologue habit returned on a fine but fresh Friday (4 degrees, feels like 2 says the bureau), soaking up the auditory complexities of "A Moon Shaped Pool" on a golf course - Lemnos loop, prior to converging on the Couldabeens (Goat votes for peace not pain).   I found Wozza, Jase then Kenworth en-route, Cate, Cougar, Gazzagrasshopper, HashBrown, Kel, BigRon, Bo, Boof, Nev, Choppy and Rocket braving the elements at the carpark.  How quickly the climate culls contenders down to the devoted, into obsolescence slips WhisperingJack, SuperMario, BigMat, Car+Mel, AvantiTrev, KillkennyPaul et al. (all to suffer terribly on their comeback)   Wozza was the only one to form the right line, Gazzagrasshopper on his regular rapid routine regardless.  I'd paired with Jase for Mitchell Rd, the light westerly should have helped but I found the tempo tortuous, the roll-over bringing Nev to my flank, chatting away happily while I could barely put two words together, lungs preoccupied extracting oxygen.  The self induced punishment is soon lost in the rotational social intercourse, a River Rd respite with the breeze up the behind, Kel as snug as a bug in a merino rug, her leg warmers repossessed from (crossdresser?) Bo. Exertion went back on my agenda as Wozz and BigRon drove north to Channel Rd, pairing with Jase to the S bend and beyond beside Nev played mind mischief with me (made the mistake of Garmin gazing the escalating h.r.).  Satisfied sitting out the sprint (high 40's hard enough midfield), I put my struggle down to hurt happens.

Week 21      327km.               YTD 6,624 km.

Week 20 : Taking the tempo tonic

Post 345

Personal challenges spring to mind then the OCD takes over to make it a mission. Something different (silly?) like a backwards-forwards idea for Saturday drove me out of bed and onto the Baum at 4:45, clockwise on the Saturday circuit to meet Couldabeens at 6.......then unwind back again. Guessing the timing, I hit the Verney Rd roundabout at 5:02, the light puff of the northeaster (6-15 km/h) welded the chain on the 17 (78 rpm) but built enthusiasm for the tailwind from the Toaster.  A glow from the towns street lamps on the horizon bounced off the low rolling clouds, a somewhat surreal 'cloud-tanked' skyscape like 'Close Encounters' or 'Raiders of the Lost Ark'.  Turning at the Toaster (5:32) a zephyr in the back got the chain friendly with the 15 cog, prompting a push of pace to reach the 6am grid, guesswork suggesting there was just a few minutes spare. The lights of early birds (Trav, Kel, Ange and Bo) lit north from the Broken Bridges as I snap crackled and popped through the gravel of Wozza's corner, it was now a driven drive 8k back to town keeping the early birds behind.  Landing at the launch pad at 5:56 allowed a social preamble with Cate, the crew of Car+Mel, Cougar, Nev, TatPaul, Rocket, KillkennyPaul, Jase, Nick, Shorty, PistolPete, Temple, Wozz, Hollywood, Boof, Gazzagrasshopper, Ric and newbieRob roughly formed the two rows for the 6am off, Trav, Ange, Kel & Bo arriving with a minute to spare.  NewbieRob, a 5 week old apprentice baulked to the back (2nd bunch ride ever), Jase and Wozz opening the account with consideration.  I'd found myself between the brawn of Boof and the care of Cate to complete the Cha Cha and on to Jameson Rd, a sublime Saturday start.  Ange and Bo hijacked the helm halting the rotation till the Boundary Rd bacon barn, Gazzagrasshopper and Bo then driving away on their own mission while Ange captained to the status quo.  NewbieRob bailed out as rotation drew him toward the business end of the bunch nearing the Toaster, an observers role in the back seat more suited as pace picked up for the west way home.  The collaborative driving effort got the cruise control into the fourties (with a squeak or two of protest from the rear), my turn at the front crossing Grahamvale Rd, Boof softening me up to Verney Rd for Kel to tenderise me with tempo to Numurkah Rd. (thanks to traffic, a breather possible before the final fling to Mt.Wanganui).  Gazzagrasshopper did an early bolt at the tip, no reaction for a while (let the fuse burn till the kaboom?) but then Nev, Rocket and Wozz sequentially launched in chase, Hollywood's effort lasting 50 metres till reality ruined him.  Sticking with team sensible (carefully captained by PistolPete) picked up the pieces for a group two bunch finish, Rocket in the distance collecting the chocolates.  A seat under the Lemontree's heater was prime real estate with 20 at the table, windtrainers, cancer and Hollwood's breakaway filled the air as breakfast filled the stomach. 

A solitary 26k start to Monday, New Dookie bound found a foggy vignette on the specs (I'm ready for my close up Mr De Mille!), the white line at the roads edge rather reassuring. 6 degrees was hardly inspiring, don't you just love that cold air attacking ears, fingers and toes, constricting lungs with every breath? (just one base layer was borderline insulation, the warmer kit awaiting the real cold in the coming months).  Swerved a big branch occupying three quarters of Pine Lodge Rd approaching the Toaster, the turn to town on schedule to intercept the Goat train of tranquility.  The 5:57 landing at Friars found Brendan, Coggo, Sandy, Tina, Tum, Hommy, MeridaJohn, Spiessy, Phil, Belly and Bazza gathering, a quiet roll out of town with the h.r. at a 117 idle.  Into Boundary Rd it was Hommy's turn alongside.....more like a bike ahead in his usual defiant style. The horizons glow at one tree dam a picturesque start to the day (this one snapped whilst stationary), only on a peace train is there a moment to take in the view.

A steady plug along River Rd found RoosterRoscoe at its end, time for me to peel off on a truck route and Archer exit to make it to the coal face on time. 

A 10k solo warm-up prepared the legs, a few speed spurts primed the heartrate, lungs had climatised to the cool but readying the head for the speed of Tuesday's Couldabeens is the toughest bit. Stop sooking Foss, treat it as a tempo tonic!  I climbed a mental mountain with just Rocket and Wozz on the starting grid, but was saved from the gallows in the last three minutes with Jase, Choppy, Pistol, Kel & Bo, KillkennyPaul and Ric arriving to fill the positions. Launching at 5:50, I'd tucked into the draft behind the muscular metronome that is Rocket, Ric surprisingly fronted the fast end at the cypress trees but didn't factor part two of the drive in the left line, his subsequent kaboom was collected by Bo to tow.   Battling beside Bo to the S bends and Rocket to Boundary Rd was my intense intro, pack fractures appearing at One Tree Dam had KillkennyPaul and Ric losing grip.  The brief calm to collect cast-offs at the start of River Rd was fruitless, seven were summoned on and then there were six as Chops chaperoned those OTA.  Trying to relax everything but the legs beside Rocket is like whistling eating a biscuit, but I lasted the distance (then quietly gasped a long recovery while Wozz drove to the dip).  Jase, wearied from Sundays MTB 3 hour rearetired with Kel, so it was five to drive for the laps' remainder. My haul at the front in Central Kialla then a short try in Mitchell drained the tank, taking leave of duty was timed to perfection as Rocket called a single file attack on the last 4 k's.   Bo, Wozz, Pistol and Rocket swapped turns for Raftery Rd as I struggled to play Gatekeeper, almost losing the tow while leaving the gap for the one rolling off the front to rejoin, 14k's in Zone 5 giving me a chronic case of rubber legs.

Sleep was as rare as a BigMat appearance on Wednesday, horizontal at 4:20 with legs going at 74rpm could only be cured by boarding the Baum for a suburban spin prior to the Couldabeens social. Car+Mel, Lucy, Cate, Cougar, Chops, Wozz, Boof, Hollywood, Nick, Shorty, PistolPete, Temple and.....surprise, surprise, the sultan of sarcasm, HBK made a return. (not seen for at least a year, the Half Bike King now has work hours that allows a lap or two on weekdays)   Away at six, the front few were squeezed by Navara at the Kialla Lakes traffic island, 'car back' missing from the phrase book of some?  I took the early drivers seat (yet again) beside Wozz to Sanctuary Park, believing a tail wind would assist but calm was the bureau verdict. Recovery was lengthy in Pistols draft, Chops and Boof next up making it a quick quadrella.  HBK put in a couple of tame turns (but half wheeling Mel), the bunch of 14 smoothing the speed East.  Tenderised by Pistol in Boundary Rd, Hollywood bailed out of duty on Wozza's corner to the sound of several sledges. The order rotated rapidly from the Channel Rd cypress trees, my ideal spot seven wheels back suddenly became second wheel at Kinder corner with Wozz to match, PistolPete and Chops the fast followers. Arriving at the front with 600 metres of the Cha Cha left made the lead-out my job description, winding up the Cosmics for all I was worth till the focus went fuzzy, then elbowing the real movers by. (Pistol by half a wheel to Wozz). Vision sharpened and normal bodily function eventually resumed in convivial company cruising home. 

Thursday's grid was thin, cold culling Couldabeens down to the desperately devoted.  Nick nervous with just Wozz, Rocket and I lined up, a sigh when Shorty, Trav and Pistol arrived. Nev's last minute appearance  cancelled all plans of a quiet tap, down to business at 5:50 with the almost habitual first turn with Wozz for the long leg one. Rocket had signalled a sit-on, so seven swapped turns with a NNW to help or hinder. Shorty, Trav and Nick supplied the speed, Wozz, Pistol and Nev stepped up to supersonic, second thoughts for some on making another contribution to the front.  Scoring shelter from the roadside trees on River Rd helped in keeping pace with Wozz, but the recovery takes longer with each turn.  Ripping into Raftery Rd Trav, Shorty and Nick all abandoned their turns, my suffering swansong beside Nev was short (as usual passing Galbraith's gate) then tucked in the draft for the fast finale.   My prediction (back in Mitchell Rd) of Nev heading an Indian file assault on Conrod straight came true, Wozz and Pistol the only ones left with wattage to swap turns as the remainder held on in hope of the torment terminating as soon as possible. The cruise of calm into town turned eventful; a passing truck with bobcat in tow had a Dunlop of destruction on it's trailer.  In a cloud of smoke and sparks, there was flying chunks of hot rubber and steel belts to avoid as the tyre departed company from its rim (now carving into the tarmac) and bounded across two lanes in front of us. A halt to clear the lanes then a calm and collected crank home.  

World championship thumb wrestling fitting a new pair of (directional) Grip Pro4's, with winter fast approaching something with a touch of tread may be good insurance.  

A misty start to Friday didn't deter pain train passengers to Friars, AvantiLeigh, Dipper, Heady, Belly, Coggo and Phil formed, Tum (on a last minute bike swap) joined at SPC.  I took the first shift on the glossy first leg of Old Dookie, a SSW'er to fight but it was the driest position in the pack.  Best to avert the focus on the roll-over point (Dobson's bridge) a long 1200 metres away while the heartrate climbed into the red zone, over the bridge and into Belly's tow (with complimentary wheel spray up the nose) to calm my cardiac catastrophe while Coggo took the helm.  Heady and Phil had edited efforts, Belly on a bike length hold-back (mimicking Head Goat?), but it was AvantiLeigh and Tum hitting the N0s on the front. A SSE'er swung ESE in River Rd, speed proportional to the fitness on the front varied the velocity with a puddle or six to spot the specs (or was that sweat?)  AvantiLeigh demonically driving out of Dave's dip in the mid fourties herniated Heady, a gasping intermission for traffic at the highway most welcome. Shaking the curse of Galbraith's gate I wound up the speed to Arcadia Downs then tucked in for a rapid recovery. Sixth wheel at the 300 metre marker was the perfect pozzy, a launch out of Belly's draft, caught Tum napping, straight past AvantiLeigh at 52 (just as he rose from the saddle) was the sweet sprint scenario to end another week. 

Week 20.        314km.             YTD 6,297 km