Hydrating hammered hamstrings.

Post #535
23/2  Saturday's sedate.

Arm warmers and a base layer in February?  Is this global cooling?  At least that supercharged southerly had toned down from blowing me backward, there was just a light 15 km/h breeze at the brow to reach the Saturday grid.  A copious crew crammed the carpark, Determined Dan, Molly, Boof, TrekTrev, TatPaul, Wozza, SuperMario, Rocket, Liam, Shorty, Lance, Steve, Ralphy, Grumpy, Vince, Bruce, PistolPete, GiantAndy, Nick, Superman, Col, ScottMatt and Trackstan readied for the 6am launch.

The traditional drivers took to the task of the headwind down to Mitchell Rd while many sat in the rear seats waiting for more favourable conditions, me included.  Observant ones noticed the verandah on the old Archer Rd house had finally bit the dust, not long now and another landmark will vanish.  The emu's gone, some orchards have been ripped up and replaced with vegetable plots but at least the Toaster still stands (the piggery still pongs!)   It's the Saturday social stuff that satisfies, the babble and breakfast and a weekend ahead creates a calm in contrast to the rush during a working week.  A drop of a degree caused a few comments in Boundary Rd, are we being tuned for temperatures of Autumn already? Liam idled in the lower end of zone two as many flogged along in four (some getting friendly with five at the front)  

Interesting individuals have come and gone in the seven years I've tapped the lap (some may recall Wobbly Trev and The Pom, some may have erased this from their memory banks! ) but the core characters have been consistent (a comfort when sharing close quarters)…something Steve is slowly coming to grips with.  Enough of this historic deliberation, it was time to do a turn!  Shorty respected his elders with a considerate crank beside me to the Old Dookie Rd bridge,  I'd survived a turn so there's hope on a distant horizon for former form. Those blessed with brawn boosted the pace west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, I could have rolled through for another shift but the forecast for a flogging was strong with Wozza, Rocket, PistolPete and Liam line astern preparing to drive (shouldn't have baulked, they kept the tempo tame.
There was work to do in Wanganui Rd but not the thrash that once broke the bunch into pieces, the Boulevard didn't break me but only boosted the appetite for breakfast.  The lingo at the Lemontree on dreadful diets and bad backs topped off the social satisfaction.

 23/2  Cideride

Sunday's standard sabbatical was swapped for cycling and cider, a ride to the Cheeky Grog Co was the bait but the payout was temperature (33 degrees) an wind (NNE'er at 20-33) to get there.  Riding in broad daylight among Sunday drivers had it's moments, but an assembly of BeerMat, Grumpy, Wozza, Lance, The Godfather. Nev, Rocket, PistolPete, Col, Bo and Kenworth put a positive into the day.  PistolPete guided us on a foreign frontier (Channel Rd - Central Ave - Lemnos North Rd - Edwards - Victoria - Bowey and Zeerust Church Rd), my hopes heightening with a few division two riders in the mix of number ones.  I might just hang on.

With some optimism I joined the advance line and, of course, found myself on the front facing a headwind crossing New Dookie Rd.  Col hammered my hopes with a thorough half biking up to the rail line, my only escape being a short shift with Lance.  Knocking on Zone 5's door so quickly cancelled any plans for another turn into the wind, consigning myself to the caboose (from team-player to tail-gunner in an instant).  It wasn't just me, BeerMat and Kenworth were soon wearied by the wind and retired rearward.
I watched the real wattage working the front for 15 k while gripped by fear of going o.t.a., finally finding relief on the turn west into Victoria Rd, sitting in Kenworths draft and that wind now at the starboard side finally allowed the heart rate to drop below 160.

The push along Bowey Rd from Tallygaroopna was beginning to empty the tank, the turn south on Zeerust Church Rd stretching the resolve as pace percolated into the 40's.  Grumpy's kind comments boosted my morale (but not my muscles), the final leg west to Cheeky Grog unhooking Kenworth from the rear, so I returned the favour of his earlier draft by donating him one.

Sipping cider and partaking pizzas is the stuff of Sundays, and hadn't we earned a long lunch!  Boof had braved a solo spin to join us and as the cider hydrated hammered hamstrings, it was time for the return voyage.  At least there was a tailwind as motivation.  That temperature drained any hope of a reasonable speed, that tailwind my only hope of maintaining mid thirties.  Grumpy had quietly punctured at the church, many of division one returning to assist, so the remainder rolled south to town, the bait of beer keeping cadence cooking. Division one rejoined at the city limits, a thirst re-awoken for many to hydrate at the brewery.

25/2  Spiced Goat

A spin through the streets loosened limbs for a lap with the Goats, the sting from Sunday still handbraking my head.  Brendy, Speissy, Heady and Phil fronted Friars (nice, a tame tap around would suit me), Speissy guiding the line out of town.  JB and DeepFry's signature start from SPC made it seven, speed soon spiced spearing east into the darkness.  Phil made sure all were aboard crossing Central Ave before boosting enthusiasm toward School Rd, setting a not so sluggish standard for me to continue. The Couldabeens 5:40 fellowship sped west (I'll muster the will and the wattage to rejoin sometime soon) and I handed the helm to DeepFry to  take us to Boundary Rd's bridge, JB taking the reigns for a rapid roll to Channel Rd.

There'd be no doubt of keeping to an agenda today!  Brendy, Speissy and Heady made generous donations to the drive (albeit a whisker shorter and slower), my calculations forecasting one more sit in the drivers seat before my short cut home.  That smooth stretch of tarmac at the Angora farm has sadly been resealed, a once billiard table bliss now as rough as hessian undies.  The wheels rolled nicely though to get me to the dip, flapping an elbow at DeepFry to take over.  The next three k's were spent banking breaths before bidding hoo-roo's for the solo work to the suburbs to satisfy my clock-on time.

26/2  Wanna Woulda's win.

Coaxing an old engine into action took some prodding on Wednesday, even an assisting wind didn't do much for speed.  One should spend a moment limbering limbs before labour, particularly for a model of this vintage!  The carpark certainly lacked commitment, the grid slowly filling from the rear forward.  MyRideTrev, Softa, KillkennyPaul, SuperMario, Hollywood, BeerMat, AvantiAndrew, Jase. Kenworth Joe (not Tony) and Pelly managed to get away at 5:50, me diving in at the deep end on first shift to lead the line out of town.  BeerMat paired with me to Sanctuary's roundabout (enough south in the west southwester to raise a sweat), something inspiring the others to advance for duty in the drivers seat, AvantiAndrew (herein after nicknamed 'Telly' to avoid confusion with AvantiAndy ; hey? does he still ride?) somewhat spent to make it to the truck route.

Even Softa and Killkenny Paul braved the front, something to do with the breeze behind?  Round two of turns had almost completed when MyRideTrev punctured nearing the quarter horse stud, we'd u-turned to wait, laugh and offer a sledge but in the blink of an eye he'd repaired and remounted  (a $ for every flat he's fixed)   The Couldabeens had yet to arrive so us dozen high-tailed along Boundary Rd to avoid the merger (to Telly's suffering)  Pelly and Kenworth attacked the headwind into Channel Rd, I got the toil from the S bend to Jameson Rd, MyRideTrev travelling well alongside.  BeerMat launched the charge at the ChaCha from Kinder corner, Pelly seizing the chance to catch his wheel and attack at Prentice Rd.  Great intentions faded and Jase focussed fast on the finish, but I was chasing a chance locked onto Kenworth's wheel and jumped in the dying metres to pinch the chocolates.


28/2  The Friday fandango.

With the weekend within whiffing distance, there's an air of optimism on Fridays, perhaps I had a bit of optimism overload by berthing at the 5:50 grid with seconds to spare.  Kenworth, MyRideTrev, Marion, SuperMario, Telly, Joe (not Tony), Pelly, Nick and KillkennyPaul had readied to roll (not a bad effort for 9 degrees) but one wonders when winter's weather will wear away the willpower.  A bunch destined to dissolve should a few hibernate?  Surprise, surprise, Marion did the first shift to the city limits. MyRideTrev and SuperMario taking the charge to Sanctuary's roundabout.  The rotational ritual got underway (subject to change without notice) to Mitchell Rd, and by pure peloton position, I'd got Pelly's wheel.  He drove a solid shift to Central Kialla Rd where I rolled across, next up Telly, so I eased the effort (less I shatter his burgeoning enthusiasm).  His request to roll a k later was gladly granted, Joe (not Tony) taking him to task for a few hundred metres. (must read him Rule #86, it's always the other guy that sets the pace)

Kenworth did a bit of drifting in the loose gravel entering River Rd (that thumbnail's worth of traction broken), thankfully remaining vertical, the rhythm rapidly restored to continue east.  Telly had demoted himself a position so I had Joe (not Tony) to pair for the last k of River, competing with Cats for tarmac space as they entered from Boundary Rd.  Darkness grips these early rides a little tighter each week and there's five weeks to wait before a change of clocks gives us some (short-lived) light.  Channel Rd's tempo tamed a tad facing the wind west back to town, keeping the bunch together seemed to be de rigueur (preserves the peace and placates protesters of pace) so I sensed a steady roll to the finish was in order.  But SuperMario couldn't contain himself with a ChaCha charge at Prentice Rd, Pelly and Kenworth co-conspirators.  With sprint interest satisfied and the bunch reconvened, the relaxed roll into town shared chat with KillkennyPaul on the softness of Softa.

This week 252km                      YTD  693km

28/2

That concrete of commitment.

Post #534
15/2  Saturday sociology.

Timing this new commute to the car park (and searching the most rideable route) still needs some fine tuning, the eight and a half k spin to the Saturday starting grid got me there a little early (heaven forbid taking the lead role!) so a roll around the block contemplated my hopeful survival for the whole lap.  Trav, Rocket, TrackStan, GiantAndy, Dalts, Tina, Byron, Lance, Boof, Wozza, Kreeky, TrekTrev, TatMat, Bruce, The Godfather, Jase, Grumpy, PistolPete, Bo, Molly, TatPaul, Temple, Determined Dan, Vince, SuperMario, Josh and Lenny squeezed into the carpark, facing the headwind heartache in Archer Rd was averted when the old Saturday circuit was selected.  'Twas all very cruisy bearing east on Channel Rd , avoiding the roadwork rubble left on Mitchell and River Rd's (like riding on marbles I'm told).

Ye olde thirty five km/h limit seems to be set for Saturdays, it may well be snoozy for some ( I'll relish it while ribs repair) but many were enjoying a bit of social intercourse and a manageable tempo rather than holding on for dear life in silence.  The "Welcome back's" boosted the brotherhood of the bunch but it was a dark drive out to Boundary Rd and up to Old Dookie Rd before first light gave us something other than posteriors to peer at.  A head count (my only hope of recalling later all who rode) was difficult with two rows stretching into the distance ahead, so the social stuff satisfied till I could get a better view.

My Strava suffering score slowly subsides (fitness returning? with the speed of a snail) though the southerly made it's presence felt while I was stuck on the windward side of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  Kreeky punctured a bit before the main eastern channel (bindii in bulk by the roadside ready to strike at those that strayed a wheel off the tarmac), the bunch fragmenting into social sects while repairs were underway. 

Rolling again, the speed steadily escalated as Wanganui Rd drew near, Bruce kindly cutting the breeze to assist those tested by tempo now in permanent residence at the rear. The sprint was considerately supressed and the hurry handbraked along the Boulevard, the bunch still united till the parting of the ways (ladies and gentlemen, choose your café) at Mason St.  Kit costs, food foibles and super long stages in the early years of T de F was babbled between bites of breakfast. 



17/2  A piece of peace.
By default, we'll nearly all take the easy way out.  The descent instead of the climb, a new tube instead of patching the old one, the draft rather than the drivers seat, so after sweating out Sunday on the end of a shovel, my soft option was the Goats train of peace. 

Friars footpath found Hommie, Coggo, Sandy, Speissy, Dippa and JB ready to roll, but Sandy was grappling with the Garmin for Hommie to harness his heart rate. Finally sorted, Sandy set off with pace far from peaceful, a long thin line speeding the streets to exit town, Deep Fry climbing aboard at SPC.  JB kept swiftness on the agenda to Central Ave, my turn to School Rd complying with Speissy's call for calm (well, I trimmed a whole two k's from the tempo).  A red led ahead baited Dippa and Coggo in Boundary Rd, the lure finally found to be Snow, absorbed into the fold just before the bridge.  Hommie was restraining any recurrence of his recent arrhythmia sitting in the caboose but time was ticking away for me, forcing a Channel Rd course to reach work for 7:30.   A breeze at the behind kept the average (and the morale) up but that stop start of city traffic dragged the numbers back to snails pace by ride's end.  I'd paid a pokey price for taking the easy way out.

18/2  Scenic spin 

I wrestled with the CBF demons as the alarm nagged it's 5am welcome to Tuesday (eight weeks off has me rusty on early starts), but knowing that endorphin overdose at the ride's end motivated the move from horizontal.  By virtue of first arrival, I inherited Heady's role to lead  the gathered Goats (Principal Skinner, Speissy, Coggo, Sandy, Heady, Phil, Hommie, Belly and Snow) from Friars, JB and Deep Fry found waiting at SPC on the exit of town.   Despite a breeze at the brow in Old Dookie Rd, this old engine was running ok, so I stayed on till Dobson's where Coggo formed a second row.  Hommie came forward for duty in Boundary Rd, cardiac concerns cancelled as he turned up the tempo. Ah, the Hommie of old is back! For a moment I contemplated a Channel Rd course homeward (the time vs lap position would cut things fine) but there's no gain from taking the soft option, just swallow that concrete Foss! Pace homeward will tune up that rusty old engine! 

The sky turned purple and orange to herald my 22,824th day and turns were ticking over rather nicely down to River Rd to lap up the easterly breeze for the return.  All were contributing to the cause, Hommie back on the front for a third turn and Heady wasn't shirking shifts either.  JB and Belly burbled the usual b.s., Sandy was silent keeping level with Hommie but Speissy had withdrawn to the comfort of the caboose by River's end, those roadworks not as rugged as rumoured.  Time was now well against me to reach home and, of course, there was plenty of oncoming traffic on the truck route trying to blow me backward and not one passing to loan a moment's draft.  I'd plied the 12 k's homeward somewhat spent to keep to schedule, but the endorphins arrived to repay the effort.  Pleased I'd ignored those CBF demons! 

19/2  ……..as a baby's bum!

A headwind hurried the heart rate down to the Archer St shops (not helped by a car bullying it's way past  on a roundabout, despite me arriving first) but there'd be no rest in a big bunch today, only the tough (Pelly, Nick, Kenworth and Laura) turned up to face the Wednesday whip-around.  Chat on which lap concurred it was back to the regular Wednesday lap, roadworks and loose gravel should have tamed by now. That unspoken but understood Indian filed formation attacked Archer Rd's southwester, Pelly (in fine form) piloting the first leg to Sanctuary's roundabout.  Nick drove the second shift to the truck route and Kenworth delivered the draft down to Mitchell, elbowing me the pleasure of a prevailing wind to propel me to Central Kialla.  

Smoothness comes as standard when a small band of similar wattage work together, the 6000 metres of River Rd slipping by with focus purely on the trains' tempo.  Last week's electricity bill, the state of the garden and the next tax return didn't rate a thought.  Are we escaping reality via chain and sprocket?  My shift at the front to Boundary Rd's Broken bridges had a whisker of southerly from the west southwester as help, so rather than be greedy, I handed the helm to Laura to take us to Channel Rd.  There'd be suffering for the westward leg home.  Pelly poured on the power to the S bend and beyond to Beckhams, Nick kept the hurry going to Jameson Rd where Kenworth took the drivers seat to Central Ave.  That headwind hurt when I emerged from Kenworth's draft, but trees sheltered the stress into Kinder corner, a metre of downhill to Hopeful corner got the pace percolating so stayed on till Prentice Rd.  Time had come for Laura to take the chocolates on the ChaCha so I elbowed her to the lead role ( and despite her objections) towed us with tempo on tap to Orrvale Rd.  The steady spin back to town contemplated the swiftness softening of those who failed to front.

21/2  The daily double.

Wind wore away at the wattage again on the southerly trek to the start line, I reckoned there'd be few fronting with that southerly blowing up to 40 km/h.  I'd arrived at the shop with seconds to spare, only Jase, Nick, Pelly, Joe (not Tony), Steve and Kenworth were there to set sail.  Seems most of the 'wannabees' wanna be in bed!  Jase stepped up to the chore of first turn and six slipped quickly into his draft, Steve's fairly new to this bike business but had a crack in the drivers seat anyway, a short but sweet shift then retreated (out of order) to third wheel.  Reality retired him rapidly to the rear when he saw another turn was due so soon.  I got the lead role for the first leg of River Rd, legs were turning at a respectable speed but the heart rate was ridiculously rapid.  A big serve of stubborn got me to the bridge to hand over, hoping that Pelly's performance didn't put me o.t.a.  I had enough in the tank to hold on but Steve was losing his grip. I took news of Steve's stress to the front, the group slowing to get him back aboard.  We're all in this together.

With a little guidance on peloton position for the best draft, he hung on for a k but broke off the back again at the quarter horse stud.  My peek rearward found him about faced and halted. Returning, we found him elbow deep into a puncture repair, surprised that we'd returned.  Division 1 passed by at pace, dislodging SuperMario from the rear, and wasn't he pleased to see us!  With a crash course in CO2 operation, Steve had fixed the flat and we were on our way again, Nick (never to be labelled a tail-wind hog) sharing the Boundary Rd blessing of a breeze up the bum.  The synchronised spin west on Channel Rd sped us toward coffee (with a little elbow education thrown in for Joe (not Tony)), a rare r.d.o. bringing me the bliss of a brew and babble at the Butterfactory in town.   

With time still to spare, extra k's beckoned ('bout time I stretched the daily 40-50k habit) so joined Tina for a tap to the Adams family.  Don, Axle, Patrick, Jim, Chilly, Ken, Ron and young Brian (hope I'm going that good in my 70's) among others filtered in for the 8am start, all rather tame in tempo down to Mitchell Rd and along River.  I'm getting dangerously close to qualify for this senior squad!  Low thirties was ideal therapy, though some were struggling as that southerly gusted.  
North on Boundary with the wind up our 'whatsits' split the squad into 'swift' and 'softening', some on a shortcut agenda to town left to their own devices.  None could wipe the grin off Tina as tempo took hold to New Dookie Rd, and I was the mug meant to match her!  But reality calmed the crew turning west into Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  Legs were happy with the 80k's done so far, but palms and shoulders were under duress from distance (that crème de concrete needs liberal application!)  Wanganui Rd drew near and speed struck the senses at DECA, hardly the hurt the Couldabeens dish out, but with nearly 90k in the legs, muscles were moaning to maintain 40.  Back along the Boulevard I bid my adieus, 'twas home time, satisfied that a decent distance was done.  

This week : 255km      YTD 496km    

Self propelled serenity.

Post # 533
8/2  A rusty return.

Starved of the ride routine for seven weeks (while nine ribs repaired), it was with some trepidation I swung a leg over the bike Saturday morning.  How much form had I lost? Would I quickly be busted off the back of the bunch? (I deliberately ignored ironically it was the anniversary of my stick incident).  I reckoned a steady solo hour might be a good starting point to judge just how rusty I was.  Surprisingly, thirty k's an hour wasn't a big ask, thought the heart rate was in the heavens to maintain it.  The tentative tap east on Old Dookie Rd to the toaster was my metaphoric toe in the water, I guess a week or two would tell if previous performance would return.  The bunch could hunt me down today and I'd attempt to hold on.

The hum of Michelins on the tarmac, the sky's shifting colour as Saturday dawned and that sense of self propelled serenity came flooding back to assert that riding obsession.  As if I needed it! Almost two months off had me suffering withdrawal symptoms.   North into Pine Lodge Rd toward the church and that sensitivity to wind direction had returned, the hint of a south southeaster helping me to the Big Ring to turn west and aim for coffee. The Cats cruised eastward on Lemnos Cosgrove Rd, I swapped a g'day with Kylie (tapping out an Ironman mission) and relaxed my 32 km/h benchmark, taking a few moments to catch a breath or three before the pack reeled me in.  Just over Grahamvale Rd and the moment of truth had arrived, the chorus of welcomes was reassuring, the draft a delight when most of the 24
 (Temple, Lance, Vince, Ralphy, Rocket, MyRideTrev, Wozza, Shorty, Bruce, PistolPete,
Joe
(not Tony), The Godfather, TatMat, GiantAndy, Tina, TrekTrev, Molly, Kreeky, Dalts, Whispering Jack, Boof, Bo and a couple of new faces) drew me into their fold, a reminder of the benefits a bunch brings.
Physical and mental. The recent settling of Saturday speed standards was a bonus, being towed along in the mid thirties calming my cardiac convulsions.  Confidence was on a rapid return, I reckoned I could hold on providing a sprint didn't spit me out the back.  The fellowship of familiar cyclusts comforted the ten k's back into town,  the sprint was supressed and speed through the streets stayed sensible (wasn't wanting any close calls with cars this soon).  The split for cafes of choice on the Boulevard appeared almost fifty fifty, allegiances turned me to the Lemontree for the brew and banter but was drawn to the Butterfactory afterward to soak up the social stuff with the others.


10/2 A sweaty spin.

It'll be a while to regain prior pace.  The early tap around the golf course loop turned into quite a workout so to group with the Goats (Sandy, Heady, Phil, Brendy, Snow, Hommie, Principal Skinner, Speissy, Dipper, JB and Belly) was judged swift enough under my soft circumstances.  There was a warm welcome in warm weather (19 degrees and 100% humidity), six bells struck and the dozen took to Old Dookie Rd Indian file.  Sandy was the white jersey contender with a determined drive to Dobson's (Heady suffering the speed) as I settled into the smooth draft on Snow's wheel, facing the front for the last k of Channel Rd when his elbow flapped.  36 was happily manageable in the drivers seat, though I didn't dare peak at my peaking heart rate.  The draft at the back when Dippa took over in Boundary Rd was bliss. Tail-lights of the early escapees (Roscoe, Brother Andrew and HG) baited our pace, turning it into a sweaty spin on a muggy morning.

All had voted for a Channel Rd course back to town, coarse stone covering the reseal of River and Mitchell Rd none too appealing.  JB drove us to the S bend keeping the squad swift and silent, Hommie had gone missing in action and I thought I'd get the job of the charge at the ChaCha but Snow did the long drive from Hopeful corner to save me the effort.  Back into town early, a squirt along Kialla Lakes Drive reeled in the early escapees, the lure of coffee driving most toward Mandy's but a return to work redirected my route to home.


12/2  Wanna, coulda.....

The search for a sedate spin for my ride rehab took me to the 'Wannabees' on Wednesday, many old familiar faces (Temple, MyRideTrev, Jase, Oscar, Tommygun, Pelly, Kenworth, Laura, AvantiAndrew, BeerMat, Nick, WhisperingJack, Marion, KillkennyPaul, Hollywood and Softa)  forming at the carpark for the 5:50 spin.  (One could be cruel and call 'em Couldabeens cast-offs)  It was comeback day for the cautiously cobwebbed ; Hollywood, KillkennyPaul and Softa).   A queer course out Channel, down Boundary, over the Main Eastern and U-turn at the phone exchange was called (avoiding recent roadworks), so two rows toured east of town, my eyes peeled for the unfamiliar styles of some as seventeen settled into a sort of rhythm.  I'd drawn the position between BeerMat ahead and Oscar behind, advancing for a drive at the front at the S bend beside BeerMat to Boundary Rd  (feeling the odd one out as I positioned to echelon for the 20 km/h southerly)

Was BeerMat baiting me a half wheel ahead?  I hadn't escaped the hurt of the headwind, Oscar keeping me silent in Boundary Rd to the Broken bridges where I succumbed to his speed.  Turns shortened thereafter so perhaps I wasn't going too bad after all?  Over the Main Eastern and bits of bunch were breaking off the back (some in course confusion?) though the about face at the telephone exchange gathered the dawdlers.  I was almost back to the business end in Boundary Rd when the Couldabeens entered from River Rd, a chance for those Wannabees with wattage to score a tow home. A tailwind to Channel Rd kept most in touch with division one (Boof, Bruce, Col, Grumpy, The Godfather, Rocket, Bo, Wozza, Kel, Shorty, Tina, PistolPete, Superman, Cate and Trek Trev) but the continued tempo west on Channel Rd was taxing the tailenders.  The big bunch was breaking up as the division one drivers stepped up into the mid 40's at the Kinder (probably not the best scenario for those on the comeback trail), some from the front demoted as Temple and I found ourselves the tow trucks for the tailenders.

14/2  Yay! It's F-ride-day!

Legs are right back into it and the heart will hopefully harden up with time, but preparing the posterior to get back into the 250k a week habit is the hard task ; how quickly we soften off the bike! Easing gradually into the routine, the forth ride for the week was a calm circuit with the Wannabees (not yet ready physically or mentally for the master class on it's midweek mission), Temple, Nick, Pelly, Whispering Jack, Laura, Hollywood, Tommygun, Marion, MyRideTrev, AvantiAndrew, Steve, Kenworth and Jase filling the grid  (seems KillkennyPaul and Softa's comeback is already cancelled?)  

Pelly set the smoothness out Channel Rd, headlights piercing the early morning darkness (and the lycra of one stretched beyond it's limit.  Eyeballs averted post haste) Nick and Whispering Jack set a swift standard for Channel Rd's last leg, Laura and I blessed by the breeze at the backside in Boundary Rd.  AvantiAndrew must be new to bunch riding, there were multiple violations of Rule #86 beside me to One Tree Dam but I'll concede that one yet to be versed in Velominati might benefit from a quiet and courteous chat.  The bunch kept together over the main eastern (a testament to smooth captaincy) and soon enough we'd arrived at the phone exchange to about face for the return.

That light east northeaster didn't hinder on Boundary Rd, the anticipation of the tailwind in Channel Rd a buoying bonus.  To break her from the habit of a short second shift, I egged on Laura to extend her turn in Channel Rd,  there IS more in that engine than she thinks! Out of Kinder corner, Temple, Pelly, Whispering Jack and Jase stoked up the boiler for a charge at the ChaCha, the pack drawn long by Orrvale Rd but congregating at the school to cruise back to town.

2019 : The year that was...

Post #532

Well, that's another year gone by, and just for a change, reaching no particular target or achieving no particular goal, just the pleasure of propelling two wheels around and enjoying the company of like minded cyclusts. (in web view, read the dictionary in the right column)   A change of scenery and ritual here and there put the proverbial icing on the cake.  My habitual fraternisation with the Couldabeens and Goats was mixed with a few different events and tours, the Lake Hume Challenge (Feb), taking the bike to Ballarat (March) and a most enjoyable three April weeks worth of touring Tasmania (super scenery and uncannily courteous motorists).   Four doses of Melbourne's Beach Road, a Bendigo Cycling Classic (October) and the Tat 100 (November) kept variety in the mix, though the Fruitloop's hiatus ended my 13 year run.

But it was 2019's winter that etched into the memory, not so much the relentless cold but the long list of retirees from it.  So many lost the will to commit to two wheels (some are still yet to return) despite it being no colder than 2018 (twenty nine days of three degrees or lower).   It's that fear of facing a long and suffering comeback that kept me going through the zero's and bone chilling breezes, admittedly the more that vanished from the list of regular riders only strengthened my resolve.

Allegiances split between cafes during 2019 but the bunch kept diversifying, different divisions making sure most levels of fitness were catered for. Injuries (almost inevitable) striking PistolPete and Tina (through no fault of their own) then I just had to go horizontal when the weather warmed up!  We bid adieu to SpinDoctor (Holland) and not-so-newAvantiJohn (Darwin) and regrettably last goodbye's to Nev Yuille during the year but we welcomed Joe (not Tony) into the fold and enjoyed the brief visits of Batman and Stu.  Other interesting interlopers were filtered by tempo.

The usual seven tyres, three chains and nine tubes were consumed in clocking nearly 13,000 km, a new pair of Craftworx carbon wheels making the effort a little easier (rest in peace Mavic Carbon SL's with 145,000 done) while the trusty Baum carries on delivering smooth and reliable kilometres into the 60,000's.  Elephant stamps to Wozza (a sub 10 hour Three Peaks), Liam (a comeback of inspirational proportions) and Tina (25,000+ km for the year), in fact all that swung a leg over a bike and had a go deserve a nod (the task is to keep it consistent!)
Thanks to all for their fellowship, laughs, advice and enthusiasm, a nod to the ranks of the rapid that keep the standards high (lest we soften).
And so begins my wrestling match of the mental side lamenting a lap while the physical side repairs nine broken ribs.  You'll be spared these weekly writings till then.  Take care out there bike buddies.....      

Week 51: The ride to ruin ribs.

Post #531
14/12  A prescription of pace.

Bed was bliss, legs felt lame, energy was extinct and there was a hundred things to do at home when the alarm chimed at stupid o'clock Saturday.  So a ride was the perfect prescription!  (HTFU old chap and get your priorities right!)

The weather was still stuck on a southwester though twelve degrees was tolerable, the spin through town amused by drunk nightclubbers staggering the streets.  I made my way to a crammed carpark, finding Wozza, Dalts, Temple, Tina, Lance, TrekTrev, MyRideTrev, GiantAndy, Bruce, Rocket, TatPaul, BigLen, Determined Dan, Boof, PistolPete, Lenny, Shorty, Bo, Superman, The Godfather, TatMat, Tum, Col and (pickle my grandmother!), SuperMario back on a bike! Up and away by six, two rows got sorted into a pecking order for the ritual fifty five k's.
Finding loose gravel across the River Rd entry, The Godfather took a wide line off road to avoid a horizontal embarrassment, (as if the floral atrocity he called a kit wasn't enough!) lucky to rejoin the tarmac upright with not a bindii collected.

CatKel was collected at the Broken bridges, Superman limiting his exposure to effort in the drivers seat alongside Lance on worn wattage too.  Tum took over crossing Channel Rd and I paired with him to the highway, TatPaul my sidekick to Boundary's channel bridge. Funny how you can muster a good turn when there's a long line of drivers ready to volunteer behind. It's a different story in a small bunch when the turns come round regularly. Settling back into the draft, there'd be a long wait till duty called again. TrekTrev played paparazzi and for a moment speed settled into the mid thirties on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to the relief of a few, but the serenity was short-lived as Rocket and Wozza resumed the rapidity.  Temple, Dalts, MyRideTrev and SuperMario wagged the work in Wanganui Rd, opting to vamoose via Verney Rd to Breakfast.  Vince and I were on duty toward DECA, just maintaining the 40's momentum, waiting for the movers and shakers to pounce, pleased to be near the business end when the sprint sprung to life rather than be dropped from the rear.  BigLen was in labor at the test track (see what too much MTB does to you!) as a gap opening ahead of him, so I seized the chance to grab Tina's wheel when she shot past, avoiding a case of the o.t.a.'s.  Breakfast caused the usual bolt along the Boulevard, Bruce's speed a bit spicy into Knight St where he got a bit too up-close-and-personal to an oncoming truck.  High and resting heart rates, retail pandemonium and container homes was on the Lemontree breakfast chat list as the day warmed us.


16/12  Welcome back Liam!

Monday morning's lethargy turned to labour when the clock struck 5:30, three minutes beyond saddle-up time put some pace into my six k commute to the carpark.  Bo, Lenny, Bruce, PistolPete, Wozza, Rocket, The Godfather, Trav, Joe (not Tony) Kel and Col rolled in, Liam's return from injury an inspirational moment.  The ubiquitous southwester drove us along Channel Rd as the weekend's production, past-times and parties were verbalised.  That breeze behind got my turn with Wozz to the Kinder up to the standard but that southern spin on Central Ave beside Liam was a lesson in labour till we swung eastward toward the cypress trees.  I didn't want to contemplate my next turn, it was a long way off, 'cause it'd be into the wind.  Tis the season where start and finish temperatures are differing, the rising sun helping to heat some hurry into lax legs.  Ahh, it'll soon be time to grizzle about the heat now that winters long cold chill has been forgotten.

The sights, sounds and smells of the great outdoors were being lapped up by Liam (even The Godfather's garble?), all those weeks of rehab and the wind-trainer would torment the toughest.  (yet some choose a static scenery ride indoors even when weather is wonderful)  The Goats train of peace looked appealing as we turned to work west into the wind, Joe (not Tony) keen to keep the caboose captaincy.  My time for torment came beside Wozz (supressing snoring) in Wanganui Rd, but I called my turn short through want for wattage that wasn't.  Liam and Bo took the reigns at DECA, me forgetting Liam's lack of draft till now,  recovery impossible in the tow of a matchstick.  Still, he'd step up my Strava suffer score trying to hold on.  The want for a Butterfactory brew stirred some speed on the Boulevard, car-bound commuters multiplying as work drew them toward town, the quick crank to the traffic lights where I parted company for a slow spin to home.

17/12  A ride to ruin ribs.

The choice between the 5:40 spin and the six am Goat getaway was decided by time (or lack of it), no way I was making the Couldabeens grid to catch their train so a golf course loop to the Goat grid was a schedule I could keep.  Heady, Phil, Tina, Coggo, Sandy, Hommie, Snow and Dippa had berthed at Verney's roundabout, so Heady assumed his riding ritual role to lead leg one.  A smidgeon of a southerly suggested I take to the crown of  the road to deliver a decent draft to others, the turn at the front to Lemnos North Rd judged easier than the effort at the back.  Go figure!

There was a bit of trepidation about facing the breeze in Boundary Rd but all stepped up to the challenge, whether it be long or short.   An orange daybreak put some enthusiasm behind the effort, a sense of stability and smoothness swamping the squad with Coggo at the helm.   I was back at the business end by the highway, the bait of HG and Brother Andrew ahead gave incentive to chase, my temptation of tempo tamed when they turned into Channel Rd.  Tina's turn was a delight to follow as I slipped to the rear of the Indian filed line, it was inspiring to witness Heady and Dippa advancing (albeit briefly) into the southwester on River Rd, it's all too easy to take the soft option of sitting-on but the nothing-ventured-nothing-gained gambit must have menaced their minds. 

All did their bit to Central Kialla, Heady kindly towing me the last k so I was fresh for the solo spin home. Those oncoming trucks did their best to blow me backward but the tailwind on Archer Rd would be a sweet swansong.  I remembered a long wait at the Kialla Lakes Drive traffic lights but there's just snapshots of circumstances thereafter, trying to dream up a snappy Strava ride title kept the pre-frontal cortex occupied, commuting traffic keeping the corpus collosum concentrating on the downhill to Guthrie St.  It was a white van pulling out from the stop sign that got the OMG's happening, the hope of turning east with him wasn't going to work but was worth a try for the harm minimisation.  Striking the drivers door at 45 degrees turned out my consciousness for a minute, brief pictures of Cats gathered and the ambulance driver asking questions was all the memory would recall. Feeling a great weight on my chest for the fleeting moments awake en-route to hospital were overpowered by questions of what about the bike? A partial lung collapse, nine broken ribs and  minor fractures to C3 and C4 would put a halt to riding (and this blog) for a while. (the bike, titanium tough, without damage)

Week 51:   135km                  YTD 12,833km

Week 50 : Painting a picture of pain.

  

Post #530
7/12  The Saturday sting.

Saturday had swelled with starters, was it the weather, the festive spirit or purely a bunch belonging that created the crowd?  Superman, Manny, Col, Boof, Grumpy, The Godfather, Lance, Tina, GiantAndy, Wozza, Lenny, TatPaul, Temple, Determined Dan, Rocket, Shorty, TatMat, PistolPete, Kreeky, Trav, MyRideTrev, Dalts and Bo amassed at the carpark awaiting six bells.  

We'd  just reached the standard Saturday velocity with two rows almost organised when Wozza puctured, the repairs rapid with MyRideTrev as the ever faithful pitcrew.  Back to business after the babble, the juggernaut sped onto Mitchell Rd but I'd found myself sandwiched by speed between the swift slices of GiantAndy and Wozza.  An old nag among the thoroughbreds.  High thirties and moments in the forties (once punishable by vehement vitriol from the caboose) is now the acceptable norm, admittedly a light southwester was favouring the flight.    

Sentences were swapped between the rows as River Rd blurred under the hum of forty six wheels, stacked (by chance?) in groups of the swift and somewhat slower.  It's probably the choice of what wheel to follow that decides the factions.  I had my time in the seat of suffering toward River Rd's end, calling it short to Wozza so rhythm was preserved.  I could cope with the speed, it's just the fuse that's frustratingly short.  Taking a minute or two to regain some breath becomes anti-social when the guy beside chats happily away without your reply, but soon enough there's oxygen to spend on the natter that bonds a bunch together.  We'd caught CatKel at One Tree Dam who joined Dalts in the hitch-hikers seat.

The long length of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd rose me through the ranks, feeling that southwest breeze midfield only painted a picture of pain at the front. GiantAndy departed for work which put me on Boof's wheel, my next appearance at the front would be brief, less I go o.t.a. through lack of oxygen.  Half a k on the red-line and my donation was done, Trav and Wozz then easily driving a two k shift (driving in the knife of my deficiency).   Some escaped pain with an exit via Verney Rd as a bee line to breakfast, by Wanganui Rd I was among the rear ranks all shaking their heads when questioned about promotion to the pointy end.
At DECA the bunch had broken into bits, some slipping spent from the front, others dislodged from the caboose as legs, lungs, hearts or heads raised the white flag.  Several (including me) took a Kittles Rd shortcut (the gravel coated entry causing a calamity) to press on to the Boulevard and attempt to catch the train to breakfast when it passed.  Rocket and Wozz, with carriages in tow drove by, most grabbing the draft only to split for the café of choice.  Doing turns, the medicinal properties of onions and the benefit of bunch divisions was bantered over breakfast.

10/12  Wind woes.
JFK's quote (nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride) resonated Tuesday morning, two days off two wheels was too long in my book.  Back aboard the Baum was bliss. 

A southwester helped the 9k loop of the golf course to reach the grid with a few minutes to spare, Sandy, Snow, Heady, Hommie, Phil, Joey, Coggo and Belly filing in for the 6am spin.  Heady's habitual piloting of leg one had some hurry about it (I won't mention the prevailing wind assisting), Sandy and Hommie sharing the last two and a half k's of Ford Rd (an unspoken but understood Indian file today, possibly preparing for the pain of the south and west legs ahead?)  Echelon education hadn't progressed beyond pre-school standards in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the tail end in the gutter in the search for cover.  The 5:40 Couldabeens express had heads down heading west, there'd be work for Goats too on the Boundary and River Rd legs to come.  Echelon might mean more then.  Sandy, Coggo and Snow were in for long hauls but Belly, Heady and Phil's shifts were short.  Joey may have had his focus fixed a little short, rapid reactions to wind gusts and the wheel ahead had a ripple effect back down the line, Snow suffering the staccato.

Tisn't easy with the wind whippin' at yer wheels, but setting a pace by peering a few wheels ahead can take the variables out of the velocity.  The bike behind will bless you.  Smoothness returned down to the highway, Snow setting a course to the Broken bridges left me to target River Rd as a reasonable donation.  The line stacked sensibly across the tarmac for the six k's to Central Kialla, my usual departure for home had Joey join in (tested for time too), he was delighted to be in the draft but not too keen to contribute.  The wind continued to crucify on the truck route but north into Archer was easier, so of course one spices up the speed.  Joey stayed silent but Strava gave him trophies.

11/12  A quiet Wednesday roll (says Rob!)

That south southwester would see the fit to the front for the leg to Mitchell Rd, many (like me) would shy from a shift till the going got easier.  Rocket, Grumpy, Lenny, Kreeky, Bruce, Kel, Wozz, Bo and Bruce cruised into the carpark from a quick Kialla Lakes Crit (their Wednesday warm-up), us mortals The Godfather, Joe (not Tony), Col, Manny and Boof may suffer as a consequence.  I'm not sure what's needed to drive at 37 into 30 k's worth of wind but I wished I had some sitting at third, forth then fifth wheel to Mitchell Rd, only then did I consider joining the advance line.

Kel took an early exit (Christmas breakfast beckoned) and I moved ahead with Joe (not Tony) to the fore and Col to the aft.  Speed was keen (understandably) with the wind whipping us through Central Kialla, the sun casting long shadows at us in River Rd.  The Godfather and Joe (not Tony) faced the front in Boundary Rd, Joe quick to call my roll at the Broken bridges where Col came alongside.

 I'd had enough on the turn into Channel Rd but Col (quite rightly) reckoned I'd done nothing, calling me to htfu for a decent drive.  So, wrung out reaching Darth Vaders, Col let me off the hook,  I gasped a long recovery toward the cypress trees but Rocket (knowing no limits) was just hitting his straps (no doubt spurred on by sledging from you know who). Volunteers for velocity at the front thinned as the caboose swelled with permanent residents, the ChaCha was covered quickly with a relaxed roll to the school as respite.  But just as breaths were caught it was back on the gas again for some testing tempo to town.

12/12  I'll have what Pistol Pete had for breakfast!

Unlike a tax audit or a visit to the proctologist, there's pleasure after the pain of a fast lap.  Like banging your head against a brick wall, it's lovely when you stop!  So with that perverse proposition, I set off to join the fellowship on the 5:40 flogging.  Bo, PistolPete, Kel, Kreeky, Col and TrekTrev charged into Channel Rd with the help of ChrisA (warming up for the 5:50 thrash).   With Pistol, Bo and Col ahead, my reckoning forecast I'd have the hell of the headwind for that short squirt in Central Ave, but Col saved me from that suffering doing a double shift to the cypress trees.   My kilometre at the front to the S bend was suffering enough.  Kel took command to Boundary Rd as I pigged out on oxygen at the back.  TrekTrev and Kreeky gobbled up the northern legs of Boundary Rd to New Dookie Rd, longer shifts with the southwester right up the posterior.  I'd just got my heart rate back to a happy place when PistolPete took charge, this would be yet another tour de fast force from the sultan of smooth (and style).

Not content with a dash to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd (the corner congested by Cats cutting the apex), Pistol ploughed on to the main eastern channel and beyond (I gasped a g'day to Goats eastbound).  With forties commonplace I pondered Pistol's breakfast must be fast ; was it Clenbuterol on toast? maybe a cup of Eyrthropoietin or is his diet managed by a Spanish doctor?  A change of driver at Ford Rd had set Bo a big task, back up to Pistol's previous pace but his exposure to the wind out of the shelter of the trees shortened the shift.  Col soldiered on to Grahamvale Rd and suddenly my turn for torment had arrived again.  Where was TrekTrev?  OTA?  The aim at Verney Rd was a world (of pain) away as I tried a tempo previously paced, a little shelter among the outskirts houses was a brief bonus but the legs were losing the will to live.  That roundabout couldn't come soon enough.  Kel hit the gas for Ford Rd's last hurrah, my guttural gasps hard to keep a lid on while overdosing on oxygen to catch Col's wheel.  Plenty of horsepower ahead said I'd be spared the driving duty for a while, fingers crossed it'd be out of the wind and I'd have recovered by then.  Kreeky, Bo and PistolPete laid down their labour to drag us to Mt.Wanganui, Col kindly captaining to the Boulevard.  Buildings blocked a fair amount of the breeze so speed was almost acceptable while I had the helm to Tarcoola's roundabout.    The last drops of my weakened wattage were used to catch the draft as Kel bolted toward the Butterfactory.

We lost 'ol bike mate Nev Yuille today, a gentleman of the first order.  After a courageous battle to the finish line, he now has a tailwind home.  A pleasure to have known him.

13/12  All aboard! Tickets please!

Friday's scattered start had the squad spread out along Archer Rd, eventually amalgamating at Adams Rd to look like a proper peloton.  Or at least an organised one. Tina, Manny, Coggo, Rocket, Shorty, Col, Boof, Grumpy, Kel, Bruce, Bo, Wozza, PistolPete, The Godfather, Kreeky, Joe (not Tony) and TrekTrev were all in t.g.i.f. mode despite the niggling southwester that wont go away (although it had lost yesterday's ferocity).  Social stuff occupied all but those on driving duty at the front, The Godfather's garble audible from front to back.  The familiar figure of Snow was caught in River Rd, he'd not long got aboard when Cat Minno was absorbed into the pack too.

A big Cat pack blurred by as we rode the last ripple strip to Boundary Rd's intersection, the chooks out again to cackle their good morning as we accelerated north.  I was careful to level with Joe (not Tony) as he faced the front in Channel Rd and complied with his call for an early roll at the S bend.  Let's not shatter the dreams of the 'new' guy when he's prepared to have a go.  Not long ago he confined himself to the caboose.  Wozza showed the same courtesy to me while I huffed to Beckham's bend, or maybe it's called a pensioner concession?. The customary charge at the ChaCha had the usual punters participate, though Manny's chain had a hiccup in the sprint to cause a few posteriors to pucker.  Traffic at the truck route allowed a few to regain breath before Pistol and Rocket resumed a bolt to the Butterfactory.

Week 50   221km     YTD 12,698km