With a washed out Saturday, What'sApp pulled a petite peleton (Rocket, AvantiTrev, Wozza, Temple, Ange, Linda and Fisky) together Sunday, keen for k's but not so eager on the 7 degrees or the southwester. The Toaster circuit anti-clockwise was the lap of choice, I'd squeezed into the salubrious sandwich of AvantiTrev and Temple, not having to endure the breeze till Mitchell Rd (and then easily shouldered from the right flank). Chilled air niggled nostrils to the point of sniffing being socially acceptable, the Garmin h.r. reading low again (should have been asleep at 47bpm), time to Google some fix facts me thinks. A conversational cruise along River Rd (a delight in daylight) then turned to Boundary, Mark and Trish leaping on, en-route to a Dookie-VioletTown loop as Tour De FightBacc training. Fisky winged west into Channel, our remainder continued the Toaster lap, Mark and Trish u-turning in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to join SpecialisedTony, Oz and co on their windy way. Thoughts of extra k's beyond the lap were soon swept aside by the increasing breeze (now SSE at 20-33 km/h), coffee and conversation a far more palatable proposition in the warmth of the Lemontree.
Somewhat Strava-starved Monday morning, a thrash at the Pine to Ford segment netted a 6th overall, the quick quest quenched, it was head down into the length of Ford and Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd for the 12k slog to the Emu, a light SSE to the starboard side chilling the old bones (feels like 3.5). A few k's on the 17 warmed up the old engine to grind the 15 from the channel onward, revisiting the 17 for the leg to the Toaster, a distant glow from town to navigate west. I'd fluked the position of the tempramental heartrate strap to read a believable 160 bpm, blurring the tarmac back to Friars. Finding Coggo, RetiredDave, Belly, Phil and Bickers for a steady lap of Old Dookie-Boundary and Channel Rd to warm up the week, Tina made it a magnificent seven at the Doyles roundabout. Coggo's Otways epic, the weekend's weaknesses and waning weather kept conversation running as legs had a gentle introduction for a weeks work.
Straight off the Antarctic at 25 km/h, a southerly was Tuesday's heartstarter for Wozz and I, enthusiasm easily eroded on the 5k trip to the Archer car park, but it was the rusty return of (recently retired) WhisperingJack that needed motivation. Kenworth, Nick, PistolPete, Rocket, Rudy, Hollywood, AvantiTrev, Bo & Kel had braved the elements, a calm first leg picked up Mark, Trish left in arrears to climb aboard. The pace percolated pedaling profusely east, nothing quite prepares you for the chill and the drag co-efficient at the front, from kinder to the cypress trees enough to wear me thin. Kenworths torque monstered Marks' malevolent mischief, AvantiTrev and WhisperingJack sought solice sitting silently in the cheap seats. Rocket and Pistol Pete's pairing in River Rd was boosted by Bo, felt my tank emptying and there was still 13k's of cruelty left! (an open cheque to Wozz for allowing my shorter contribution at the puffing end). Cars up and back and truck right at Mitchell Rd dampened the velocity on the turn, a long haul to Archer Rd weakened my (weak) will of mind over matter. More had resigned from toil at the tough end over the highway, stubborness drove one more turn at the front but I had to match Bo's boost out of Roubaix. By Arcadia Downs, pain had passed my passion, Kenworth's draft deleriously inviting while Pistol, Rocket, Wozz, Rudy and Bo indian filed the job of slicing the air at the front. Rocket lit the afterburners with 300 metres left, demoting (and demoralising?) all to "also rans", Wozza the mainstay of masochism till 80 metres remained. Emerging from Kenworths tow in the dying metres was like hitting an iceberg, my second place rightly was Wozza's.
The rigmarole of winter wardrobe warrants waking earlier with the multitude of layers to warm, heaven help me getting the bib knicks out of sequence! Deja vu to the cold and southerly wind, another 5k attempt at warming up to the Couldabeens grid. Wozza, SuperMario, Hollywood, Shorty, Cougar, Trav, Rudy and Pistol formed in the carpark, AvantiChris the duck out of water after 3 weeks Territory fishing. Rudy and I headed a litigant ligature leg to the Archer Rd roundabout, a call for calm(er) for a rearward light to catch evolved to be a tardy Rocket, dillemas during dressing delayed dilligent duty. It was cool enough (8 degrees) for Pistol to attire in 3/4 knicks, SuperMario to roast in the jacket but Rudy to expose his knees to the elements. Speed was savoured in Central Kialla, wind wrestled in River, Breakaway ladies legged it west with Genesis in pursuit as we slowed to be Boundary bound. I conceded a cadence contrast beside Rudy from the two bridges to Channel Rd (70 vs 103 rpm), into Channel Rd a slow squeeze up to cruising speed, but I was still 5 km/h shy of the mark glancing at the Garmin. We'd caught and passed Meags and Fee (on a short circuit) just before the cypress trees, unusually, Rocket had the helm on the Kinder corner, podium punters aplenty poised to pounce line astern. Glued to SpinDoctors' wheel seemed the prime real estate for the sprint, but he tucked in for a tow (preserving a short fuse?) when Hollywood bolted early. In an attempt to reel him in, I found myself elected the Golden Gate, a bridge to Hollywood for Pistol, Wozz and Rudy to challenge the Cha Cha. (scored a Strava 2nd best though, despite running out of urge) All calmed to cruise back to town, Kialla coffee for those lucky to have time spare.
A battle with the doona demons on Thursday morning, it was warmth & sloth vs effort & achievement. With 100 reasons to take the BigMat option, a solitary positive thought (unborn chicken voices in my head?) managed to motivate a saddle up. With Comet and Stace taking a later lap, I chose a solitary drive at 5 to the Emu, south to the Toaster and west back to town, a hit before the Goat habit. The bureau said easterly but senses said southerly, good progress to the Emu, the instincts were correct on the hard yards (3,490 of them) to the Toaster. Gently back up to pace for the westward return, winding up to a pleasing progress, arriving 10 minutes early was a reward of recovery at Friars. The gathering of Goats (Joe, AvantiAndy, AvantiLeigh, Belly, Phil, Leon, Snow, Baz, Sandy, Deb, Hommy, Stace, Comet, Tim, Bickers and Heady) set sail on Old Dookie, but it was disjointed as the NBN roll-out till Central Ave. A smooth circulation was hard to find (protests on clockwise by some) till facing the breeze in Boundary Rd, sharing the load with rolling turns far easier than my earlier solo southerly assault. A well oiled machine drove along River with a dozen drivers, down to Mitchell we mowed down Roscoe (commuting to coffee?) and went full steam up Mt Nicolaci following Leons lucious lead. I briefly backed out of the driving group at Roubaix to blend back in ahead of AvantiLeigh, with a finish favour to return. A few rotations later we'd cranked into Conrod, a nod to AvantiLeigh, crested the first dip, then hit the boost past Belly. Keen to shake off the Hommy threat, I cranked into the 50's with Leigh in the box seat, a flick of the elbow with a 100 left (boiler 'bout to burst) gave Leigh the honours, my account paid in full.
A standard start time caused a casual kit-up and relaxed roll to Friars to join Coggo, Belly, Heady, Baz, Deb, Snow and Phil for Friday's friendly frippery. Gently on the go pedal with the Old Dookie track dampened earlier, subtle inuendo on reverse rolls and my intentions were wryly filed, the rotations quickly and smoothly into order. Foggy patches (being just 0.8 degrees off the dew point) and tyres glossy, I was sandwiched between Baz and Heady, watching Snow plough into the pointy end. Less is more rolling turns in a small pack, the sometimes flustering, flapping and floundering fluctuations flowed to fluently fluid, with none of the ripple effects of a big bunch. A rare windless morning made Boundary a breeze, k's consumed quickly in River Rd and muscled into Mitchell, passing Archer on cue to the regular minute, with a calm climb of Mt Nicolaci. I had the lead into Roubaix corner, and with none venturing forward, slowly squeezed the accelerator with a line astern me. Belly bellyached at the horse stud (finally appearing for a turn), rotations resumed but with just four volunteers, thinning to just me and Coggo by Conrod. With 500 metres to go I threw in the towel (for someone else to clean up at the end) making myself useful as a draft for Deb to mid field while Snow skiied to victory. The cruise homeward picked up yet another bastard bindii, Michelin to marshmallow in the closing k, rim just kissing the tarmac at my letterbox.
Week 17 : 318km YTD 5,129km
A rapid readership rise from Russia, bal'shoye spaseeba peeps!
Friday, April 24, 2015
Friday, April 17, 2015
Week 16 : A premature problem & rolling in the wet spot.
The three musketeers assembled at Raftery Rd in the wee small hours of Saturday, Vince along too for the (almost habitual) prologue. A spin against the grain of Conrod straight warmed up the gastrocnemius, Vince spying lights behind, went back to retreive 'em. Expecting the rear brigade to catch us, Wozz, Temple and I steered slowly and silently to the highway, a hint of SSE breeze helped our Central Kialla cruise, but the backmarkers were content to tail off. I was suprised our slightly longer prologue still got us to the Channel Rd Cha Cha before the blossoming bunch arrived ; AvantiPaul, Fisky, AvantiAndy, Ange, Linda and Steve amongst the regular Couldabeens Pistol, Hollywood, Cougar, Shorty and Nick ; wait for it, comeback kings Whispering Jack and SuperMario the suprise additions. Into Old Dookie Rd, Nick eased the pace to keep a kangaroo at a safe distance, bounding into a driveway after leading the bunch for 50 metres. The rising sun lit the Mt.Major clouds orange for a great start to the day, shame to turn our backs on it for the Lemnos-Cosgrove leg home. Speed was keen with many to share the load, a good effort at the front by a rusty SuperMario and WhisperingJack, many impressed with another co-ordinated classy couture kit modelled by Hollywood. Wozz and I took care on the throttle after crossing Grahamvale Rd, Temple soon on fourty at Ford Rd's end. PistolPete was first to feel frisky at DECA launching the sprint, Hollywood, Wozza, Jen and AvantiPaul unable to resist the pursuit and the mamoth ascent of Wanganui hill (at least 3 metres elevation). A collective cruise in Rudd Rd and the Boulevard put icing on the lap, AvantiPaul and I peeling off, u-turning to join the Goat group, clockwise and Toaster bound (curing dizziness?) Numbers swelled wheeling west, pairing with Sootie to head the herd to Numurkah Rd. Not a lot of effort needed with 20 sharing the load at a casual rate, a chance to wag the social tongue with YipYouPhil, Coggo, Comet, BigBen and co, Roscoe's respiratory restrictions avoided. Spice was poured into the speed steering south on Boundary Rd as rotations ramped up, a collection of reartirees grew in River Rd as the driving got serious into the 40's. The temptation to withdraw into the rear stalls was strong after a 100k's clicked over, but a case of cranial concrete concentrated the effort. SpecialisedTony, Greendawg and others were intercepted at Mitchell Rd, mixing into the circulation as the pack speared to Melbourne Rd, MeridaAndy's so-slow puncture (sensed at the Toaster) finally flattening at Mt.Nicolaci. Some of the intercepted ventured into the driving force but aspirations exceeded respirations (one at mixmaster cadence) to relegate them rearwards. The Conrod clothesline hung out BigBen, AvantiPaul and other punters to dry at the pointy end, me perfectly positioned to pounce a podium with 100 metres left, a sweet desert to a 120 k main course.
A little dusting of the cranial cobwebs on a golf course-DECA precursor circuit Monday, 6 degrees to inspire some cadence but the h.r. monitor was still asleep at 56 bpm. A pause to adjust bumped the numbers back up (temporarily) but I contracted a case of the "hurry-ups" noting the time, a Wanganui to Friars express (11 min) to get me to the church on time. Brendan, Hommy, Sandy, Coggo, Belly, BigPaul and Heady were prepared for a smooth and steady roll of the legs, a bridge building exercise for those struggling with the hastening weekday pace. Holding a low 30's limit seemed difficult for some but protocols were observed, weekend chat occupying the jaws rather than legs getting frisky. Coggo, Tina and I stuck to the limit, others began to slowly draw ahead in Channel Rd, but it was soon policed when Hommy inherited a bindii to peg the progress. Coggo's pit stop skills (and comedy) saved the day, a quiet roll back into town made a refreshing start to the workday week.
Porthos (Foss) and Aramis (Wozz) set south on a tepid Tuesday, down to Raftery Rd in search of Athos (Temple). Vince arrived from the south to ply a prologue to the Couldabeens circuit with a mere hint of a breeze (senses suggested a southeaster). Wozz and I took the turn to Roubaix corner, a damp drop or two on the skin at Archer hinted at rain, but not till nearing Channel Rd did spots litter the tarmac. Jase was parked under cover at the shop, Rocket, Pistol and Kenworth arriving, radars keenly scanned on the likelyhood of getting soggy. On the stroke of 5.45 the spots stopped, eight heading forward ho into Channel Rd, Vince and I in the drivers seats, slowly squeezing the accelerator. We caught Mexican Angelo just before the cypress trees, the quick speed slowly roasting Temple at the S bend. Jase hit the boost button on the last leg of Channel nearly cooking me, a relief when Vince called for calm so the wrecked could recouperate. West in River Rd seemed a little easier so the speed kicked into the 40's to ensure nobody was asleep. Matching the Jase pace braced the nerves for a go at the front, soon at ease when he called a roll before my point of explosion. Wozza, Pistol and Rocket were in fine fourties form in Mitchell Rd, keeping on top of the 13 sprocket my purpose till Mt. Nicolaci. Crossing Melbourne Rd set the squad single file, Rocket sensing all were near the limit took the helm for a freaky drive at 40 for 3 kilometres. Mere mortals, Jase, Pistol, Wozz and I offered our (slowly sinking) services at Arcadia Downs for some relief to Rocket, my turn out of the Conrod dip at 48 emptied the cookie jar, mentally abandoning ship to roll in all but last.
The horizon's distant rumble didn't deter determination on Wednesday (thunder heard most of the night), the "glass half full" mindset drove the enthusiasm for a Toaster lap at 5, or was it a case of OCD? (obsessive cyclist disorder) After Tuesdays spots quickly stopped, a positive cranial karma cranked out the Boulevard, but I was prepared to face the errant easterly (15-20 km/h) on Wanganui Rd. Happy holding low 30's (but legs conflicted that opinion) to Ford Rd's end and commenced Lemnos-Cosgrove only to hear click....click....click....click, the dreaded metronome of the bastard bindii injecting the front tube. Pegging progress at the main eastern channel with steering going as soft as the mining tax, repairs commenced, lit with lighting mid pit stop. Thunderumble hastened the handywork, back on two wheels eastward, a spot or two swiftly schemed shortcut scenarios. Southbound on Boundary the drops duplicated, by Hill Rd a downpour drenched desires, an Old Dookie damp off ramp chosen to turn tail homeward. Rain up the nose from the front wheel rooster tail, squelching socks and slipping hands on saturated bar tape ponders the joys of Autumn cycling rolling in the wet spot. Hammered home to the thought of a hot shower, tip toed round SPC's skating rink (roundabout), an incoming (and impatient) Camry testing it's ABS brakes (and my heart rate) seeing and avoiding me .
A long l.e.d. procession to Friars on Thursday, 21 fronting with clear skies promised, a subtle southerly the only hinderance. A (correct) clockwise roll was set in motion on Old Dookie Rd (to counter the southerly) till the Goat head pulled rank to anti the roll, throwing a little confusion into the ranks. Halting for traffic at Central Ave, Kate's sequipedalian track stand was most impressive! Back into motion for 39 on the upside and 37 on the downside, then easy into Boundary to keep the pack intact. Fresh volts in the h.r. monitor and cadence sensor smoothed the data, the svelte syncronicity and sublime speed simply stunning from Stace and Comet. 549 turns of the chainring in River Rd (yep; number nerd!) passed quickly, whittled down to a dozen driving with nine as caboose. Ironic to pair with David at "wait for David", then slowly back to the boil to Mitchell Rd kept the volunteers keen for more. A split at the highway allowed a brief breather (between Belly's sledges) till the congregation congealed, building to the mid 40's for Conrod straight. With the common problem for young men (premature accelleration), AvantiLeigh went for broke with 200 to go (try the nasal spray to last longer Leigh!), Sootie in tow with sprint sights set. I was in luck to be on the upside and broke free to launch at the finish line, thought I'd left the run too late but was saved by the last dip to hit 56 (OMG, 104 cadence!) commandeering the chocolates.
Wozza's What'sApp weather warning waried me Friday morning, after Wednesday's wetting I shied away from riding in favour of a dry and warm bed.
Week 16 : 299 km YTD 4,811 km
A little dusting of the cranial cobwebs on a golf course-DECA precursor circuit Monday, 6 degrees to inspire some cadence but the h.r. monitor was still asleep at 56 bpm. A pause to adjust bumped the numbers back up (temporarily) but I contracted a case of the "hurry-ups" noting the time, a Wanganui to Friars express (11 min) to get me to the church on time. Brendan, Hommy, Sandy, Coggo, Belly, BigPaul and Heady were prepared for a smooth and steady roll of the legs, a bridge building exercise for those struggling with the hastening weekday pace. Holding a low 30's limit seemed difficult for some but protocols were observed, weekend chat occupying the jaws rather than legs getting frisky. Coggo, Tina and I stuck to the limit, others began to slowly draw ahead in Channel Rd, but it was soon policed when Hommy inherited a bindii to peg the progress. Coggo's pit stop skills (and comedy) saved the day, a quiet roll back into town made a refreshing start to the workday week.
Porthos (Foss) and Aramis (Wozz) set south on a tepid Tuesday, down to Raftery Rd in search of Athos (Temple). Vince arrived from the south to ply a prologue to the Couldabeens circuit with a mere hint of a breeze (senses suggested a southeaster). Wozz and I took the turn to Roubaix corner, a damp drop or two on the skin at Archer hinted at rain, but not till nearing Channel Rd did spots litter the tarmac. Jase was parked under cover at the shop, Rocket, Pistol and Kenworth arriving, radars keenly scanned on the likelyhood of getting soggy. On the stroke of 5.45 the spots stopped, eight heading forward ho into Channel Rd, Vince and I in the drivers seats, slowly squeezing the accelerator. We caught Mexican Angelo just before the cypress trees, the quick speed slowly roasting Temple at the S bend. Jase hit the boost button on the last leg of Channel nearly cooking me, a relief when Vince called for calm so the wrecked could recouperate. West in River Rd seemed a little easier so the speed kicked into the 40's to ensure nobody was asleep. Matching the Jase pace braced the nerves for a go at the front, soon at ease when he called a roll before my point of explosion. Wozza, Pistol and Rocket were in fine fourties form in Mitchell Rd, keeping on top of the 13 sprocket my purpose till Mt. Nicolaci. Crossing Melbourne Rd set the squad single file, Rocket sensing all were near the limit took the helm for a freaky drive at 40 for 3 kilometres. Mere mortals, Jase, Pistol, Wozz and I offered our (slowly sinking) services at Arcadia Downs for some relief to Rocket, my turn out of the Conrod dip at 48 emptied the cookie jar, mentally abandoning ship to roll in all but last.
The horizon's distant rumble didn't deter determination on Wednesday (thunder heard most of the night), the "glass half full" mindset drove the enthusiasm for a Toaster lap at 5, or was it a case of OCD? (obsessive cyclist disorder) After Tuesdays spots quickly stopped, a positive cranial karma cranked out the Boulevard, but I was prepared to face the errant easterly (15-20 km/h) on Wanganui Rd. Happy holding low 30's (but legs conflicted that opinion) to Ford Rd's end and commenced Lemnos-Cosgrove only to hear click....click....click....click, the dreaded metronome of the bastard bindii injecting the front tube. Pegging progress at the main eastern channel with steering going as soft as the mining tax, repairs commenced, lit with lighting mid pit stop. Thunderumble hastened the handywork, back on two wheels eastward, a spot or two swiftly schemed shortcut scenarios. Southbound on Boundary the drops duplicated, by Hill Rd a downpour drenched desires, an Old Dookie damp off ramp chosen to turn tail homeward. Rain up the nose from the front wheel rooster tail, squelching socks and slipping hands on saturated bar tape ponders the joys of Autumn cycling rolling in the wet spot. Hammered home to the thought of a hot shower, tip toed round SPC's skating rink (roundabout), an incoming (and impatient) Camry testing it's ABS brakes (and my heart rate) seeing and avoiding me .
A long l.e.d. procession to Friars on Thursday, 21 fronting with clear skies promised, a subtle southerly the only hinderance. A (correct) clockwise roll was set in motion on Old Dookie Rd (to counter the southerly) till the Goat head pulled rank to anti the roll, throwing a little confusion into the ranks. Halting for traffic at Central Ave, Kate's sequipedalian track stand was most impressive! Back into motion for 39 on the upside and 37 on the downside, then easy into Boundary to keep the pack intact. Fresh volts in the h.r. monitor and cadence sensor smoothed the data, the svelte syncronicity and sublime speed simply stunning from Stace and Comet. 549 turns of the chainring in River Rd (yep; number nerd!) passed quickly, whittled down to a dozen driving with nine as caboose. Ironic to pair with David at "wait for David", then slowly back to the boil to Mitchell Rd kept the volunteers keen for more. A split at the highway allowed a brief breather (between Belly's sledges) till the congregation congealed, building to the mid 40's for Conrod straight. With the common problem for young men (premature accelleration), AvantiLeigh went for broke with 200 to go (try the nasal spray to last longer Leigh!), Sootie in tow with sprint sights set. I was in luck to be on the upside and broke free to launch at the finish line, thought I'd left the run too late but was saved by the last dip to hit 56 (OMG, 104 cadence!) commandeering the chocolates.
Wozza's What'sApp weather warning waried me Friday morning, after Wednesday's wetting I shied away from riding in favour of a dry and warm bed.
Week 16 : 299 km YTD 4,811 km
Friday, April 10, 2015
Week 15: Cherishing chocolates and fanning fortunes
Had a wardrobe malfunction on Saturday, the 14 degree forecast halved to 7 and a promised mild northeaster swung to a cool SSE, fingers and knees lodging protests at the chill. I joined Temple at 5, keen to tour a prologue to the Couldabeens lap, a chance to extend the usual distance and re-educate the rear-end from the regular routine. A Mitchell Rd fox and a River Rd possum was our wildlife documentary, a magnificent moon made light beyond our l.e.d.'s. Hunting between the 17 and 15 for the comfortable cadence (wishing for sweet sixteen) the 17 was eventually elected, if only to provide a little warmth in the legs. We'd bounded Boundary and chartered Channel, making it to Doyles before eight Couldabeens came into view, Jase, SpinDoctor Rudy, Cougar, PistolPete, AvantiTrev, Trav, Eamon and Fisky, all rugged up for a fresh fourty kays, Easter's agenda and cursing the celcius's the main chat stats of the lap. An easy speed (in Rocket's absence?) allowed limbs to warm without burning, but Fisky flattened on the Cosgrove rail line, inducing an intermission of puncture protocols. Soon back underway, the monster moon's yellow light was almost head-on for the 15k Lemnos-Cosgrove & Ford Rd return, an eastbound Cat collection culled 'cause of cold? Temple and I took a tame turn into Wanganui Rd (to minimise the rear whip) taking the bunch up to pace by DECA where Rudy's race urge unleashed, Pistol and Eamon unable to resist the chase. Calmed again for Rudd Rd's recovery, we'd reeled in Stace, Comet, Sootie and HWK (astride two wheels again, retirement rumours rescinded) en-route to a testing Tri tap. Back to base camp, Ryan had the Lemontree heater stoked, an egg & bacon sandwich (more like a main course) filled my tank, Thursday's thrash, Alzheimer's, drugs in sport and wobblies filled the conversation.
Clocks were changed but my cranial cronometer was still at daylight savings setting Sunday. Up and about an hour early, boredom drove an early circuit, cranking away the hour on the Old Dookie-Boundary-Channel block, Heady seen heading outbound (with similar time trouble?) as I cranked inbound, steering to Friars to meet PinarelloMatt, BigPaul and Tum for a calm cruise of the Goat track. A soloist had swung into Old Dookie Rd a k ahead, landmarks recalled from months ago suddenly now visible with the sun rising earlier. We caught the soloist (Peter) on the turn into Boundary (tagging on for a tow) as wine, burnouts and weekend chores were chewed over, sentences now possible where weekday rolling turns usually don't permit much more than a word. A somewhat slow motion circuit enjoyed, PinarelloMatt and BigPaul in rare contention for line honours as Tum and I coasted Conrod.
Like a bindii through your last tube or the appearance of Wobbly in the bunch, a chill shuddered the bones (from Wednesday's southerly), all trace of Autumn's warmth blown rapidly (24-39 km/h) away. Ah, the joys of dripping noses, iced ears and numb toes is about to beset us again! Couldabeens numbers down, proportional to the temperature, set south on Archer, a lone light lagging behind caused a pause in pace but there was no gain (and the light soon vanished) so it was back on the boil. A bunch fracture (unreported to the front) put the handbrake on again at the roundabout, unity finally found for the leg to Mitchell Rd. Disheartened my physical state wasn't up to the mental state's demands (Easter egg attrition or the legacy of two days off?) it was a hard push to Archers' end and not much better with the breeze to the starboard side in Mitchell Rd. I swallowed my introspective twaddle to rue Rockets remarkable recouperative remedy, ten days beachside or was it the Fiji Gold that puts potence in the projectiles' pace? Hollywood's lime green ensemble and co-ordinated accessories lit up with the sun's earlier rise in River Rd, haute couture of Princess proportions . We didn't cross Cat paths till Boundary Rd, my legs and lungs were in a stop work meeting arguing with mental motivation to the Broken Bridges, Wozza saving my bacon with a tow. Wozz and I scored lead-out priveliges again for the Cha Cha (Rocket returning to rule the roost), a lengthy leg to regroup by Doyles for the cruise back to town. Happy to be home and heated by raisin toast and coffee, pondering the tune up needed for a worn engine.
Gripped by the doona's half Nelson Thursday morning, the intention of a 5am prologue was mentally shelved, so slumbered till a Goat lap at 6 beckoned. A litany of lasses, larrikans and ledgends assembled at Friars, Tegan (13) definitely representing the development squad. A paired procession plied Old Dookie Rd eastward, soon into syncronicity toward a slowly lit horizon. The Genesis line oncoming was given space for their Cat chase into Boundary Rd, 17 Goats grouping (or groping?) for the southerly spin to River Rd. Reassuring to get Deb's roll call in the change from down line to up line, Tina's tranquil transition a contrast to Joe's joust. River Rd passed quickly under the Michelins, pleasing to have sunlight to guide our westward mission (if only for a few weeks). By Mitchell Rd I was craving Raftery's tail breeze, my h.r. monitor finally out of first gear (82 bpm) into a believable 150. Apexing Roubaix and clicking the chain to the 13 for the grind to the horse stud may have been overtly opportunistic or overly optomistic, but the stars were steadily aligning for me into Conrod; the moon was in Belly's house, Coggo was rising and I was on Hommy's Uranus. Avanti Leigh, Belly and Coggo thrashed toward the final fifty metres, Hommy hit the mental wall of abandonment as I emerged from his draft, the last dip delivering me a slingshot (56 clicks @ 181bpm) to cherish the chocolates (and fan the fortunes).
Deb fronted Friars on Friday, the sugar amongst the old salts (on a macho mission), but turned tail for home seeing the line up. (A regular steady lap needed administrators?) Phill, Coggo, Brendan, Heady, Principal Skinner, Belly, AvantiLeigh and Tim, gilded with a glimmer of guilt, ground out Old Dookie Rd, most on the chapter about high 30's, but some a page or two behind. I'd got safely sandwiched between Coggo and AvantiLeigh, Principal Skinner taking the roll-call duties in Boundary Rd. A few more had retired to the rear rest room for River Rd but all made a recovered comeback in Central Kialla. A profusely perspiring BigBen was caught at Archer Rd, delighted to join in (Notre Dame Catless on his commencement) to make ten. Off the throttle with chins wagging over the highway and exiting Roubaix, curry to the cadence up to the horse stud reduced it to four drivers on the swing into Conrod (Belly blissfully sitting on for the free tow, slyly schemeing his sprint). Hung out to dry on the final 500 metres, I had nill NOs to answer Belly's blast, but was content to finish a lap (and the week) with tenacious teamwork.
Week 15 : 271 km YTD 4,512 km
Clocks were changed but my cranial cronometer was still at daylight savings setting Sunday. Up and about an hour early, boredom drove an early circuit, cranking away the hour on the Old Dookie-Boundary-Channel block, Heady seen heading outbound (with similar time trouble?) as I cranked inbound, steering to Friars to meet PinarelloMatt, BigPaul and Tum for a calm cruise of the Goat track. A soloist had swung into Old Dookie Rd a k ahead, landmarks recalled from months ago suddenly now visible with the sun rising earlier. We caught the soloist (Peter) on the turn into Boundary (tagging on for a tow) as wine, burnouts and weekend chores were chewed over, sentences now possible where weekday rolling turns usually don't permit much more than a word. A somewhat slow motion circuit enjoyed, PinarelloMatt and BigPaul in rare contention for line honours as Tum and I coasted Conrod.
Like a bindii through your last tube or the appearance of Wobbly in the bunch, a chill shuddered the bones (from Wednesday's southerly), all trace of Autumn's warmth blown rapidly (24-39 km/h) away. Ah, the joys of dripping noses, iced ears and numb toes is about to beset us again! Couldabeens numbers down, proportional to the temperature, set south on Archer, a lone light lagging behind caused a pause in pace but there was no gain (and the light soon vanished) so it was back on the boil. A bunch fracture (unreported to the front) put the handbrake on again at the roundabout, unity finally found for the leg to Mitchell Rd. Disheartened my physical state wasn't up to the mental state's demands (Easter egg attrition or the legacy of two days off?) it was a hard push to Archers' end and not much better with the breeze to the starboard side in Mitchell Rd. I swallowed my introspective twaddle to rue Rockets remarkable recouperative remedy, ten days beachside or was it the Fiji Gold that puts potence in the projectiles' pace? Hollywood's lime green ensemble and co-ordinated accessories lit up with the sun's earlier rise in River Rd, haute couture of Princess proportions . We didn't cross Cat paths till Boundary Rd, my legs and lungs were in a stop work meeting arguing with mental motivation to the Broken Bridges, Wozza saving my bacon with a tow. Wozz and I scored lead-out priveliges again for the Cha Cha (Rocket returning to rule the roost), a lengthy leg to regroup by Doyles for the cruise back to town. Happy to be home and heated by raisin toast and coffee, pondering the tune up needed for a worn engine.
Gripped by the doona's half Nelson Thursday morning, the intention of a 5am prologue was mentally shelved, so slumbered till a Goat lap at 6 beckoned. A litany of lasses, larrikans and ledgends assembled at Friars, Tegan (13) definitely representing the development squad. A paired procession plied Old Dookie Rd eastward, soon into syncronicity toward a slowly lit horizon. The Genesis line oncoming was given space for their Cat chase into Boundary Rd, 17 Goats grouping (or groping?) for the southerly spin to River Rd. Reassuring to get Deb's roll call in the change from down line to up line, Tina's tranquil transition a contrast to Joe's joust. River Rd passed quickly under the Michelins, pleasing to have sunlight to guide our westward mission (if only for a few weeks). By Mitchell Rd I was craving Raftery's tail breeze, my h.r. monitor finally out of first gear (82 bpm) into a believable 150. Apexing Roubaix and clicking the chain to the 13 for the grind to the horse stud may have been overtly opportunistic or overly optomistic, but the stars were steadily aligning for me into Conrod; the moon was in Belly's house, Coggo was rising and I was on Hommy's Uranus. Avanti Leigh, Belly and Coggo thrashed toward the final fifty metres, Hommy hit the mental wall of abandonment as I emerged from his draft, the last dip delivering me a slingshot (56 clicks @ 181bpm) to cherish the chocolates (and fan the fortunes).
Deb fronted Friars on Friday, the sugar amongst the old salts (on a macho mission), but turned tail for home seeing the line up. (A regular steady lap needed administrators?) Phill, Coggo, Brendan, Heady, Principal Skinner, Belly, AvantiLeigh and Tim, gilded with a glimmer of guilt, ground out Old Dookie Rd, most on the chapter about high 30's, but some a page or two behind. I'd got safely sandwiched between Coggo and AvantiLeigh, Principal Skinner taking the roll-call duties in Boundary Rd. A few more had retired to the rear rest room for River Rd but all made a recovered comeback in Central Kialla. A profusely perspiring BigBen was caught at Archer Rd, delighted to join in (Notre Dame Catless on his commencement) to make ten. Off the throttle with chins wagging over the highway and exiting Roubaix, curry to the cadence up to the horse stud reduced it to four drivers on the swing into Conrod (Belly blissfully sitting on for the free tow, slyly schemeing his sprint). Hung out to dry on the final 500 metres, I had nill NOs to answer Belly's blast, but was content to finish a lap (and the week) with tenacious teamwork.
Week 15 : 271 km YTD 4,512 km
Friday, April 3, 2015
Week 14: Carpe Diem and triple trouble.
Autumn's sinking temperatures tested the strength to throw off the doona Saturday morning, another early (obsessed?) prelim lap with Wozz and Temple, joining Jase, Vince and Frido to tap a 25k intro to the Saturday circuit. The Archer-Mitchell-River-Boundary-Channel Rd block was moonlessly black, just six l.e.d.'s to light the darkness and awaken a few bunnies. The eternal enemy (wind) southwester started to brew just as Jase and I fronted Channel Rd, Wozz and Temple taking the load from the cypress trees onward. Luck gave us 13 at Orrvale school for a tow east, foreigners Fisky, Paul, Linda and Ange amongst the regulars Pistol, Hollywood, Cougar, Shorty, AvantiTrev, AvantiChris, Dion, Rudy and Eamon sharing the workload. A hill bound MachineSteve rolled ahead then south into Boundary, we'd locked in the regular anti-clockwise circuit. Wozz and I drove the Old Dookie leg, keeping faithful to the speed limit (wattage was waning anyway). The piggy penitentiary was illuminated for a squealing breakfast (complete with it's obvoius aroma), we had a clear run to the Toaster and Emu before the now WSW made work for us westbound. All put in an effort in 7 degrees homeward (Paul u-turning to fraternise with felines), no doubt driven by thoughts of a hot breakfast and warm coffee? Linda led out the sprint early at DECA, Fisky frisky and Rudy rueful to have missed the jump. Dion, Ange, Hollywood, Pistol et al set off in optomistic pursuit, the pluggers grouped to congeal the bunch again in Rudd Rd. The welcomed warmth of the Lemontree's heaters fired up chat on the Cat rant, bike bling, MTB's and personalised paint.
My clock radio chimed at 5 for round one of the Motor Cortex vs Hippocampus title fight (riding vs relaxation) Monday morning. Hippocampus won on a close points decision, post ride euphoria winning narrowly over the sloth of slumber. The mind promised the legs a quiet Cat lap tap, crossing their start line 5 minutes ahead, slowly and steadily up to the 137 aerobic limit, passing Mitch (the only time ever!) and another just cruising to a Cat crucifixion? Five k's out, the iliopsoas and rectus femorus were lodging complaints against the 7 degrees (and a Sunday off the bike), the head had quickly broken the prior promise peering at a Pussycat pack pursuing. Thinking a westerly was assisting me to Boundary Rd, the teeth were gritted for the River Rd return, suprised to find that progress had improved now that the wind had turned off (spurring on a physical second wind). Looking rearward kept the motivation turned up wondering how long I could hold off being swamped, Breakaways and a soloist or two were eastbound braving the temperature. Eyeballing rearward became a nervous disorder by Mitchell Rd, the feline flotilla rising from the Mt Nicolaci dip as I crossed the highway. Keeping the head down and cadence consistent in Raftery Rd (hard to judge the distance without landmarks visible) I swung into Conrod straight hopeful.Out of the dip and onto the plateau made it a safe bet, lCat ights just swinging into Conrod as I crossed the finish.
Sooties knackered knee knocked him out of the Tri trifecta Tuesday, only Stace and Comet as quick quality company fo a 30k prequel to the Goats lap. It was black as BigMat's bike headed to the Emu, without a moon and just stars to light what a l.e.d. wouldn't illuminate. Single file was haute couture in the conditions, very easy to slip into the zone with swift svelte sessions from the lasses (if only all tows were this smooth!), back to town bang on time to join 20+ Goats gathered and gridded. It took a while for the rituals of rotation to regulate, reappearances of Kate, Snow and BigPaul to the bunch of regulars. By boundary, a faction had fractured off the back (puncture we're told) the remainder settling into the push to River Rd. The deck had shuffled a bit to give a variety of wheels to follow, Hommy seeming to have a magnet for my Mavic. The usual huff and puff disposed of River Rd's length quickly, but slow at wait for David to collect the stragglers. JamisShane reckoned I'd snapped a spoke, BigPaul likened the noise to a cricket in my pocket, but I could sense nothing wrong with ye olde BM. To the back of the bunch and readied for an Archer exit (an early landing needed) the back tyre went to marshmallow, that cricket noise being the beat of the bastard bindii on bitumen. Halted, fixed feverishly yet furtively (Stace & Comet the ace pit crew), I swung the leg over and travelled a metre to find the front tyre gone flat in sympathy! A large green thorn found and removed, a borrowed tube fitted, inflated, wheel back in, about to remount when it went squishy again! Close examination found nothing, so tube number 3 fitted, a 3rd cannister deployed to finally meet success. We turned wheels into Archer for an indian file push north, a hard and frustrating slog home on 90psi.
Far fetched forecasts fooled Foss, felt fairly fresh Wednesday (check the date) with a promised 16 degrees failing to reach 12, forced fitting armwarmers and an extra layer. (just wait for the grizzles about cold in a few weeks time!) Wozz and I arrived early to the Couldabeens grid, FeltMat, Shorty, Cougar, Hollywood, Trav, AvantiTrev and Rudy trickled in, Jase rolling up on the roll out. Steadily up to tempo on Archer Rd, Rudy was a little vague on the roundabout roll over, but all settled into a general groove, plus or minus 10% depending on form, age, mood or pairing. Strings of lights speared southward in Boundary Rd, Cats, Goats and other wild animal riders all incognito in the darkness. A tailwind is always the cream to a ride, but Channel Rd's temperature was rising and falling like Abbott's popularity poll. The Cha Cha lead-out lottery was won by Wozz and I (first in line at the kinder) spin doctor Rudy ruled the sprint roost till Hollywood emerged subsonic from his draft, Jase on the boost button to fight Rudy for silver honours. Interesting to study style, speed, spin and sustainability from the 4th seat viewpoint. Tap tap homeward with an aromatic blend of diesel, hot bread, dicarboxyic acid and SPC's cooked pears to overload the olfactory nerves.
I wheeled south in search of Wozza at 5 on Thursday, suprised to find special guest star Jase joining us for a pre-lap, more like a prolapse from the stressful southwester blowing at 20-50 km/h. The 6k flog to Raftery Rd found Temple waiting, Vince oncoming to quorum a quartet. With wind whipping at wheels, cold rain pelting the skin and heart rates hovering on hurt, one questions the sanity of doing this! A quiet chorus of Carpe Diem infiltrated the corpus collosum (giving credence to cadence?) as the toil tapered in Mitchell Rd, being blown along Archer Rd put us ahead of schedule to loop the glossed roads of Kialla Lakes, murdering a few minutes.
Up to the carpark found nothing but deserted tarmac (any other Couldabeens content and cosy in bed), the Garmin guru's fiddled to reboot Temple's 510 till 5.45 ticked. The fearless five resolved to recourse a Wednesday/Friday loop, single filed track turns to minimise pain and maximise speed. I volunteered the first shift (biting off 3k's at the front was a bit too much to chew into a headwind) draining the resources sector and feeling a bit of the all ordinaries. Lucky that others towed me to Mitchell, we scintilated in Central Kialla, ripped up River and blasted along Boundary with not another bike in sight. Channel Rd was challenging, fraying the edges of Temple by the cypress trees. An ease of the throttle was unanimous for all to survive, grateful of a little reprieve for the leg back to town, only Heady heading steady out as we rolled ragged in.
8 degrees and a crisp south southeaster Easter Friday brought out the new autumn gloves, a social fundraiser Toaster Loop to enjoy to benefit the Royal Childrens Hospital. A cast of Ben Hur proportions assembeld at the Butterfactory, Jonesy and yip-you-Phil the MC's, coralling Goats, Cats, Couldabeens, Adams family, Breakaways, villans, legends and "also rode's" into some form of order. An anticlockwise direction (for the joy of wind up your arse we were told) got underway south on the main drag, factions forming and fragmenting according to speed and pecking order. Baulked and blocked to the punch-up bridge put me in the rearmost mix, plugging quietly to Mitchell Rd as others congregated ahead. A little uncomfortable with some errant wheels and a touch socially outcast, I bid my adieu's at the highway and set off on a chase to the big bunch ahead, passing a cruising Tum, Kate and Georgia, the bridging bunch inbetween. Six minutes in the high 30's got me across the gap to hook onto the back of a 20+ congregation, predominantly Goats but with a few drivers and dags attached. A bit of discipline was injected at the front in River Rd, BigLen and Dazza doin' the drivin' but it was a disjointed dogs breakfast at the back, the Wobbly one thrown in for bad measure. (better to be in the swift and smooth pointy end than with the rubberbanding wiggles at the rear) With wind up the date in Boundary Rd cruise control was set nudging fourty, a cool run up to Old Dookie but I was rotated back into the erratic end, shapening wits for survival. By the turn at the Emu, a dozen decent drivers had segregated the bunch into haulers and hangers-on (perfectly policed by the Eggman?), back in my comfort zone swapping smooth turns with Dipper, Tina, BigLen, Dazza, JamisShane, Coggo and co. Plenty of tarmac traversed with tempo back to town (discarding the dags), Wanganui Rd's waft of the transfer station (or was it the water treatment plant?) spurred on the sprint up the hill, the fire doused in Rudd Rd to cruise back for coffee, basking in charitable glory of raising $1200.
Week 14 335 km YTD 4,241 km
Happy Easter to all, vitayu vas and halsningar to the Ukraine and Swiss fans.
Feel free to share this link on your Fb page.
My clock radio chimed at 5 for round one of the Motor Cortex vs Hippocampus title fight (riding vs relaxation) Monday morning. Hippocampus won on a close points decision, post ride euphoria winning narrowly over the sloth of slumber. The mind promised the legs a quiet Cat lap tap, crossing their start line 5 minutes ahead, slowly and steadily up to the 137 aerobic limit, passing Mitch (the only time ever!) and another just cruising to a Cat crucifixion? Five k's out, the iliopsoas and rectus femorus were lodging complaints against the 7 degrees (and a Sunday off the bike), the head had quickly broken the prior promise peering at a Pussycat pack pursuing. Thinking a westerly was assisting me to Boundary Rd, the teeth were gritted for the River Rd return, suprised to find that progress had improved now that the wind had turned off (spurring on a physical second wind). Looking rearward kept the motivation turned up wondering how long I could hold off being swamped, Breakaways and a soloist or two were eastbound braving the temperature. Eyeballing rearward became a nervous disorder by Mitchell Rd, the feline flotilla rising from the Mt Nicolaci dip as I crossed the highway. Keeping the head down and cadence consistent in Raftery Rd (hard to judge the distance without landmarks visible) I swung into Conrod straight hopeful.Out of the dip and onto the plateau made it a safe bet, lCat ights just swinging into Conrod as I crossed the finish.
Sooties knackered knee knocked him out of the Tri trifecta Tuesday, only Stace and Comet as quick quality company fo a 30k prequel to the Goats lap. It was black as BigMat's bike headed to the Emu, without a moon and just stars to light what a l.e.d. wouldn't illuminate. Single file was haute couture in the conditions, very easy to slip into the zone with swift svelte sessions from the lasses (if only all tows were this smooth!), back to town bang on time to join 20+ Goats gathered and gridded. It took a while for the rituals of rotation to regulate, reappearances of Kate, Snow and BigPaul to the bunch of regulars. By boundary, a faction had fractured off the back (puncture we're told) the remainder settling into the push to River Rd. The deck had shuffled a bit to give a variety of wheels to follow, Hommy seeming to have a magnet for my Mavic. The usual huff and puff disposed of River Rd's length quickly, but slow at wait for David to collect the stragglers. JamisShane reckoned I'd snapped a spoke, BigPaul likened the noise to a cricket in my pocket, but I could sense nothing wrong with ye olde BM. To the back of the bunch and readied for an Archer exit (an early landing needed) the back tyre went to marshmallow, that cricket noise being the beat of the bastard bindii on bitumen. Halted, fixed feverishly yet furtively (Stace & Comet the ace pit crew), I swung the leg over and travelled a metre to find the front tyre gone flat in sympathy! A large green thorn found and removed, a borrowed tube fitted, inflated, wheel back in, about to remount when it went squishy again! Close examination found nothing, so tube number 3 fitted, a 3rd cannister deployed to finally meet success. We turned wheels into Archer for an indian file push north, a hard and frustrating slog home on 90psi.
Far fetched forecasts fooled Foss, felt fairly fresh Wednesday (check the date) with a promised 16 degrees failing to reach 12, forced fitting armwarmers and an extra layer. (just wait for the grizzles about cold in a few weeks time!) Wozz and I arrived early to the Couldabeens grid, FeltMat, Shorty, Cougar, Hollywood, Trav, AvantiTrev and Rudy trickled in, Jase rolling up on the roll out. Steadily up to tempo on Archer Rd, Rudy was a little vague on the roundabout roll over, but all settled into a general groove, plus or minus 10% depending on form, age, mood or pairing. Strings of lights speared southward in Boundary Rd, Cats, Goats and other wild animal riders all incognito in the darkness. A tailwind is always the cream to a ride, but Channel Rd's temperature was rising and falling like Abbott's popularity poll. The Cha Cha lead-out lottery was won by Wozz and I (first in line at the kinder) spin doctor Rudy ruled the sprint roost till Hollywood emerged subsonic from his draft, Jase on the boost button to fight Rudy for silver honours. Interesting to study style, speed, spin and sustainability from the 4th seat viewpoint. Tap tap homeward with an aromatic blend of diesel, hot bread, dicarboxyic acid and SPC's cooked pears to overload the olfactory nerves.
I wheeled south in search of Wozza at 5 on Thursday, suprised to find special guest star Jase joining us for a pre-lap, more like a prolapse from the stressful southwester blowing at 20-50 km/h. The 6k flog to Raftery Rd found Temple waiting, Vince oncoming to quorum a quartet. With wind whipping at wheels, cold rain pelting the skin and heart rates hovering on hurt, one questions the sanity of doing this! A quiet chorus of Carpe Diem infiltrated the corpus collosum (giving credence to cadence?) as the toil tapered in Mitchell Rd, being blown along Archer Rd put us ahead of schedule to loop the glossed roads of Kialla Lakes, murdering a few minutes.
Up to the carpark found nothing but deserted tarmac (any other Couldabeens content and cosy in bed), the Garmin guru's fiddled to reboot Temple's 510 till 5.45 ticked. The fearless five resolved to recourse a Wednesday/Friday loop, single filed track turns to minimise pain and maximise speed. I volunteered the first shift (biting off 3k's at the front was a bit too much to chew into a headwind) draining the resources sector and feeling a bit of the all ordinaries. Lucky that others towed me to Mitchell, we scintilated in Central Kialla, ripped up River and blasted along Boundary with not another bike in sight. Channel Rd was challenging, fraying the edges of Temple by the cypress trees. An ease of the throttle was unanimous for all to survive, grateful of a little reprieve for the leg back to town, only Heady heading steady out as we rolled ragged in.
8 degrees and a crisp south southeaster Easter Friday brought out the new autumn gloves, a social fundraiser Toaster Loop to enjoy to benefit the Royal Childrens Hospital. A cast of Ben Hur proportions assembeld at the Butterfactory, Jonesy and yip-you-Phil the MC's, coralling Goats, Cats, Couldabeens, Adams family, Breakaways, villans, legends and "also rode's" into some form of order. An anticlockwise direction (for the joy of wind up your arse we were told) got underway south on the main drag, factions forming and fragmenting according to speed and pecking order. Baulked and blocked to the punch-up bridge put me in the rearmost mix, plugging quietly to Mitchell Rd as others congregated ahead. A little uncomfortable with some errant wheels and a touch socially outcast, I bid my adieu's at the highway and set off on a chase to the big bunch ahead, passing a cruising Tum, Kate and Georgia, the bridging bunch inbetween. Six minutes in the high 30's got me across the gap to hook onto the back of a 20+ congregation, predominantly Goats but with a few drivers and dags attached. A bit of discipline was injected at the front in River Rd, BigLen and Dazza doin' the drivin' but it was a disjointed dogs breakfast at the back, the Wobbly one thrown in for bad measure. (better to be in the swift and smooth pointy end than with the rubberbanding wiggles at the rear) With wind up the date in Boundary Rd cruise control was set nudging fourty, a cool run up to Old Dookie but I was rotated back into the erratic end, shapening wits for survival. By the turn at the Emu, a dozen decent drivers had segregated the bunch into haulers and hangers-on (perfectly policed by the Eggman?), back in my comfort zone swapping smooth turns with Dipper, Tina, BigLen, Dazza, JamisShane, Coggo and co. Plenty of tarmac traversed with tempo back to town (discarding the dags), Wanganui Rd's waft of the transfer station (or was it the water treatment plant?) spurred on the sprint up the hill, the fire doused in Rudd Rd to cruise back for coffee, basking in charitable glory of raising $1200.
Week 14 335 km YTD 4,241 km
Happy Easter to all, vitayu vas and halsningar to the Ukraine and Swiss fans.
Feel free to share this link on your Fb page.
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