Plunged back into darkness at 5.50am with daylight savings, just when I was familiarising with landmarks unseen during winter. I turned up to Notre Dame in Monday morning's blackness in the hope of hanging on to the Cat pack, two days off two wheels may have weakened the wattage? An east southeasterly set up a clockwise rotation in Old Dookie Rd, I could only i.d. a few with the lack of daylight and the contrasting lumens of 18 l.e.d.'s but GentlemanGraeme's smoothness easily stood out. ArgonDave gave a greeting (if only to get his name in this), Eddy, Cobbles, Vince, Ronnie, Stradles, Phil, Sly, Simon, CerveloJohn, Robbo and LeighMac picked out by bike or sit, most others a blur as the up line gunned past the down line. The heavy artillery fired fast down Boundary Rd as the bunch stretched out single file behind the half dozen drivers, eventually settling to allow the now anti-clockwise rotations to resume. Somewhere we'd picked up Bomber & BigBrad, me the meat in a sizzling sandwich. By the Broken bridges I'd opted to sit with a growing pack of reartirees, to catch a breath or two, nicely timed as the 51 Blitzkrieg bolted in River Rd. (must have read Reagan's quote "when you can't make them see the light, make them feel the heat") It was head down, shift up and hang on well into the fourties till it split the bunch nearing the Trevaskis Rd dip. The 51's drew away, most Cats settling back into rotations at a slightly more managable rate of knots. A waiting truck was a bulky traffic island into Mitchell Rd, much muscle was spent keeping in touch with a somewhat surging bunch to Melbourne Rd. I'd bowed out of doing turns at Arcadia Downs, 15 kilometres in Zone 5 beginning to wear me down. Simon had the jellybeans to score the win, I had the pleasure backing off the pedals, chalking up a 39.8 average, and chat (in short breathless sentences) to GentlemanGraeme & CerveloJohn on the recovery roll through town.
There was only Wozza and Rocket at the carpark on Tuesday, desolation turned to desperation with 3 minutes to blast off, Pistol's arrival spelt perspiration and exertion, grateful that Trav's turn up meant a little respite. There was plenty of westerly (18-26km/h) on the Channel Rd eastbound for Wozz and I to lead out, helping to supress the headwind demons to come. FeltMat was found touring near Orrvale Rd to make a bunchette of 6 but he sat on, leaving the toil for five. Rocket and Pistol bumped up the cruising speed to the cypress trees, Wozz and I fuelling the fire to 40 till Channel's end. Pistol put three quarters of a length on Trav beyond River Rd, Trav's tenacity truely torturously tested to Mitchell Rd. Rocket called a single file suggestion, all ayes without objection when he took the first windward shift. I couldn't get the head low enough to cut a draft behind the energiser bunny, Rocket nudging 40 into the wind stretched my rubber band to the max. Trav had joined FeltMat in the rear survival seats, my turn somewhat abbreviated (to prevent explosion) beyond the dog-leg. Wozz & Pistol drove strongly to Archer Rd, passing Fox & Sosso, all my eggs went into the basket of holding Rocket's wheel up Mt.Nicolaci to the highway. Driving the train up to Roubaix was all I could muster, Pistol, Wozz and Rocket dragged us to Conrod post-haste. Out of the first dipper Rocket's eagerness multiplied with the finish in sight, in a split second my mental hurdle became higher than the will of the legs, dropping O.T.A. 300 metres shy of the line, Wozz pouncing for glory over the somewhat spent Rocket. A decent 37+ average for a petite peleton though.
A bit of a wardrobe malfunction on Wednesday, fingerless gloves and one base layer failed to insulate against the 3.5 degrees (out the door and on the bike without so much as a toe in the water first). Solution? Go faster to the start to warm up. Lined up at the rear of the Kialla grid early as a result, 10 punters in all, inticed into action with the lack of breeze. A little lumen of light on the 6.10 horizon gives some hope of lighter days ahead, Rocket and Pistol paired (yet again) to provide the heat the weather forgot, Choppy and I settled the speed on our turn to speaking pace. The Hurt Locker had eased their throttle to pain-free mode as they filed west in River Rd, 40+ Cats a kilometre behind driving into the dip (and about to be split up for 51 firewood) I got a few words in with Nick, Cougar, AvantiTrev, AvantiChris, SuperMario, Trav, FeltMat and Jase as the chilly k's clicked over, many predictions on WhisperingJacks next come-back and of BigMat's renal calculi. Chops had the short straw task of matching Pistol in Channel Rd (a wheel too far?), ten out of ten for effort but there's rarely an equal. SuperMario put in a solid crank for the Cha Cha, FeltMat turned up the wick for the Bonanza, all arriving back to Archer Rd with time to spare.
A flashing red taillight invasion of the streets in the darkness of Thursday morning, Area 51 northbound, Cats eastbound and Goats southbound to their respective starts. Friars had a herd of Goats lined up for action, Sootie and Comet last minute inclusions to take the numbers to 18. Patches of fog softened the focus outbound on Old Dookie Rd but a sharp eye was kept on the protocols of track turns, a bit of speed variation to cope with. Luck had me get the truck-like tow of BigPaul on the up row and Comet's smooth wheel on the down row, all and sundry having a dip with only one reartirement as we entered River Rd. A few were reaching their limits but many had plenty in the tank, shame the rolls weren't so consistent. All was well with the world ticking away on the 13 at 60rpm, heart rate happy at 136, fixed on BigPaul's grubby Colnago one minute then Comet's neat saddle the next, could have tapped away all day. Regrettably, the deck was shuffled by Mitchell Rd as a few bailed out of regular duty, Leon had the limit noddies and Dipper was just warming up. Ramping up out of Roubaix, a dozen drove into the 40's, suprised that some of the usual "sitters" were still contributing perspiration at Arcadia Downs. Sootie, AvantiLeigh, CerveloJohn and Dipper turned up the wick ascending from Conrod's dip, I worded up Snowman to lead him out, and with perfect timing, luck and position, I scored the front with 250 metres to go. Kicking my cranks hard to gap the odds-on favourites dropped poor old Snowman, gold handed to me on a silver plate.
An early start at a solo Toaster lap on Friday, barely a rustle in the trees, yet Ford & Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd felt like a wind tunnel. The intention of a steady tap around soon grew determined (a weird mission of self-harm?), perhaps something to prove after rating just 39 on yesterdays' Strava suffer score? With only two five-second respites from passing cars, the mental shovel came out to dig deep, driving to the Emu well into the anaerobic zone. Arriving at the turn south was like having an audit cancelled, taxed legs allowed to recover and the heart rate reduced below 170 on the leg to the Toaster. Out of luck, the breeze had halted in Old Dookie Rd, kept the head down and nostrils closed past the piggy piangendo prelude, watching a super long string of Supercat lights file into Boundary Rd, their stretched pack filling the distance between white posts, and about to become breakfast bait for Area 51, hot in pursuit a (special) k back. Pleased my arrival at Boundary Rd was too late to get mixed up in their torture, just a view of tail-lights galloping off into the sunrise. Couldabeens (?) were oncoming as I neared the long grey strip of River Rd , happy the wheels hummed in the high 30's to minimise its' monotony. By Mitchell Rd the tail-lights ahead seemed to be nearer, put it down to an illusion or confusion, but at the highway it had become fact. The lure had been swallowed renewing the push, a kilometre defecit was a big ask though. Entering Conrod straight with the tank nearing empty, the mirage was finally identified as the Breakaways, caught and greeted at Raftery's anorexic bridge. Kept on the gas till home (traffic lights permitting) to turn a Strava Suffer Score into a Sufferfest of 171.
Week 41 ; 230km YTD 11,383 km
Word of the Week
"peletoon" (noun) A humorous, animated bunch of cyclists
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