Found BigMat then Weapon en-route to Saturdays lap, cool commuting company on a balmy 23 degree morning. Breakaways Shazza and Jen had taken tenacity to join with Cougar, Jase, Trav, Rocket, Whispering Jack and Nick (returning from holiday hiatus) Dion, Shorty, PistolPete, Tucks (tuckered out from New Years extremism), AvantiTrev and SuperMario (last of course) for a windy (20+km/h northerly) slog out Channel Road. Good to have four lasses tame the testosterone in a swollen Saturday bunch, Nath taking the population to 18 at the fig farm. Shazza tried to wriggle out with an Old Dookie road retreat back home, but sledging threats and a measure of mental motivation convinced her to stay aboard. AvantiTrev short shifted a turn, Nath and Pistol compared cadence on the toil to the toaster. I went easy on the throttle with Pistol to the church but word was slow to reach us that a few had detached. Dion took the church-to-channel Strava stage while I hung back to group the tailenders back on board, peristroika prevailed at the Emu with the bunch bonded, the speed slowly wound up for the tailwind treck back home. Tapping along at 40 was good for the ego (no AvantiTrev complaints), Cats having a hard drive east against our westerly windfall. Goats and Muppets were killing k's easterly and early to beat the heat, Nath, Dion, Rocket, BigMat and Pistol pouring on the power at DECA in the struggle for Strava supremacy on the Wanganui hill. Calm descended in Rudd road for a collective cruise to coffee, scuttlebutt on prangs, bogans and k.o.m.'s filled the ears while breakfast filled stomachs.
A southerly cranked up the cardiac cadenza for a late called Couldabeens circuit on Monday. Only Rocket, Pistol, Jase, Temple and FeltMat at the carpark, I'd tucked neatly between Temple (on a Port Mac road trip recovery) and FeltMat (suffering a severe bout of post coastal holiday) with Rocket, Pistol and Jase towing us gradually up to speed for an eased intro to the working week. FeltMat and I paid the headwind price of leading from the kinder, pleased that Temples turn didn't blow my head gasket up to the S bend. Boundary road and southbound, FeltMat retired from service at the bridges, handing me Pistols' pacy wheel to match for River Rd. the northbound Shazza and Cougar the only Breakaways brave enough to battle the anti-clockwise lap. 1600 metres matching Pete and ignoring the pleas of legs and lungs to give up, my mental motivation was just about empty when Pete thankfully called a roll over. Temple did a short shift, Jase and Rocket continued at warp speed, the last k of River Rd almost endless at 174bpm beside Pistol again. The 1.8 k's beside Jase wore down the resolve, Rocket calling an indian file as we turned into Mitchell. I gave another brief burst from the highway to Roubaix, flicked an elbow then spent a lot of steam into staying aboard as the five passed by. Rocket lit the afterburners at Arcadia Downs forcing all heads down, Temple and FeltMat soon gapped, I sank all into survival behind Pete to finish, pooped but pleased.
The forecast for the weeks end looked bleak so switched the routine to gallivant with Goats on Tuesday, and there were Goats galore gathering at Friars. Heard Heady's happy holiday hyperbole on the roll toward Old Dookie as two dozen formed up two lines to do battle. Muppet Matt, Joe and MeridaAndy were new faces to the midweek Goat train, ironfolk Stace, Sootie and Comet got the rotations organised by Dobsons estate, despite the yawning abyss left by BigPaul's hangback. Deb performed the perfect roll call at the back as the bunch wound up the knots in Boundary Rd. A four word sentence was just possible on the River Rd roll as the rear stalls slowly filled with expirees, plenty of elation in rotation dictation as the 26 speared west. Predicting my possible Conrod position while driving out of Roubaix was being constantly readjusted as more retreated to hang on at the back, there were only about 10 left with legs to drive at the front as we descended the dipper in the closing k. With Coggo, Andy and Tina ahead, thoughts of Hommy looming large behind fuzzied my focus, Andy bolted with 500 to go! I kicked the Mavics like a mule to shake Hommy from my draft and set about the chase to young Andy (with a 30 year advantage, no respect for his elders), regretting my Garmin glance (189bpm @ 54km/h) that threw doubt on a success. Andy, suddenly afflicted with the noddies at 100 metres to go was the silver lining, slipped into his draft for a moment to draw a short breath, then power past to cross a rather blurry edged finish first, speechless till the bridge.
There were tropical temperatures to start Wednesday, streaks of orange light pierced the eastern horizon to post a picturesque prologue for the Kialla Couldabeens ride. I joined the grid with 2 minutes to spare but lined up as the masochist meat in a Rocket and Pistol sandwich of speed, SuperMario's arrival on the death knock of 6 saved me (positioned as the salad in that sandwich) FeltMat and Trav took the leading role to River Rd, my cranial calculations put me with Pete battling the Kialla Central northeast breeze, not so bad with plenty of tree shelter as it happened, but Pete still managed to put half a bike on me (Daniel lives on in another form!) Feeling fried by River Roads channel bridge, SuperMario likewise with plenty of huff and puff on the roll over. Everyone who owned a bike was on it westbound on River Rd this morning (the Breakaway bunch blossoming to 11), must have seen Thursday's forecast rain coming? We barrelled into Boundary, more bikes bunched large and small oncoming, and up to Channel Road for a favourable leg back to town. Second last wheel at the kinder, a speed lead to the Cha Cha by Shorty and Trav, and a bonus breeze behind was just too tempting, my squirt of speed at Prentice road lit up the wheels to 54 but the inspired intensity imploded with Rockets' sizzling slingshot past, delivering a lethal dose of reality to put me back in the slow box. Couldabeens congealed to tap the last leg back to Archer, many with the luxury of time to add a coffee stop before home.
There was little life left in the self motivation battery Thursday morning, but a damp forecast for the weeks end inspired a few amperes to arise at 4.45. Copious Kellogs Cadnium Crispies consumed to harden up for a toaster lap, bunch banter socially satisfies but solo slogs strengthen (maybe mentally maims?). The eternal drag out to the Emu facing the northeaster had me trawling the depths of effort, craving the tailwind reward, spinning dervishly on the 17 tooth sprocket at 80 rpm. Twas vunderbah heading south, a crimson sunrise south of Mt Major a sign of inclemency to come? A duo of DuraAce clicks put the chain onto old faithful 14 to grind west from the Toaster, a breakfast sonata of squealing pigs drowning out my Cosmic chorus. I wondered if my timing would intercept the Couldabeens at Channel Rd but 6.05 was a bit ahead of schedule. I detect sweat spots on specs in River road, but it was the heavens slowly opening to deliver bike and I a decent drench, the rooster tail of wheel water prompting my phone to be shifted to a drier spot. Almost refreshed and certainly cooled at the dipper, I had a blow dry from the breeze (now more northerly) by Rivers' end. With wattage waining I eased off the throttle to Mitchell Rd, saving something for Conrod's headwind. A few peeks behind saw a track devoid of Couldabeens, Cats or Goats, it was the turkeys driving without headlights that was the oncoming worry. Emptying the last drops of energy in Conrod, I soaked up Strava's generous January 2015 trophies (worth the 162 suffer score?) but wonder what anguish if February sees us striving Strava starved?
Suprised by a dry Friday morning, an opportunity to squeeze a lap in begged. My heartrate had vanished from the Garmin screen (checked I wasn't dead) but soon realised the sensor was upside down Miss Jane. Righted and re-instated, I cranked east in Knight Street (freaky feline free) and through the SPC roundabout into Old Dookie, desolate and devoid of Hurt Locker or Breakaways. Damn wind (ENE) hindered a decent speed till Boundary, by the Pub it had swung SSE. There were a few puddles to avoid (to keep the posterior powder dry), at least comfort has been found on the Fizik after months of being a pain in the......... A very grey start to the day and not a bike to be seen till two neat lines of Couldabeens were found eastward in River Rd. On course for an early finish, I was suprised to find a bit left in the tank for a 40+ push in Conrod, a swansong for a rain ruined weekend?
Week 2 : 277km YTD 320km
Rider of the Week : more cryptic this week after the clever Cougar solved last weeks [Weapon] within hours.
174cm tall, black bike, Louis Garneau shoes, once worked at Vic Roads.
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