Week 45. The isolation sensation

Post 370

5/11

What motivates six and a half hours and 200 k's of self imposed torture? The challenge? The satisfaction to finish? 'Cause it's there? A twisted craving for pain?  The Tatura 200 was on my tick list, a Saturday substitute for the sociability of the Couldabeens.  A large amount of starters (including familiar faces) for both 100 & 200k rides assembled, a bit of amusement watching the preparation of some, even oiling chains and adjusting derailliers in the last minutes before flagfall.

Caught within the crawlers in a crowded and chilly 7am start, It was caution till Tat's exit before breaking free to pursue a bunch that wanted more than 24km/h. (one bloke who'd obviously swallowed a wombat, carried a ballast of two sets of lights, a big battery pack, a Go-Pro, 3 bidons, a back pack and saddlebag to suit an overnight stay)   The lead bunch was a k ahead but I wasn't going to burst a gasket chasing them down, settling into a comfortable rhythm with many k's ahead, rounding up and passing a few cast offs to Toolamba and beyond the highway gave some sense of wellbeing.  Union road is as rough as hessian undies, so pleasing to reach the smooth Shepp-Euroa Rd and tap to Mitchell.  I'd set a target reeling in a bunch of ten ahead in Boundary Rd (hopes of sharing the headwind back to Shepparton), k by k slowly chipping away the gap till I caught the tail at the Pine Lodge pub. Damn! It was Mr Magnet and the erratics! Sociable for a k or two then head down and tail up in Old Dookie Rd to snap them off the back, passing a large bunch stopped at the Pine Lodge church filling bidons. Turning at the Emu, the reality of the SSW'er (22-32km/h) hit hard, it was a push to catch S-WorksSteve (Wangaratta) to work with him for the long 15k leg back to town. We'd soon reeled in and recruited the solo WillierCol (my ally and working partner from the windswept Benalla 125) to make a threesome, a load shared well to reach civilisation at a reasonable rate, my native navigation leading them through town and head across the Midland highway.  The large bunch (previously filling up at the church) caught us in Mooroopna, comfort finding the gorgeous grins of Car+Mel, the big engines of Coggo, Belly, Carl and co with a gaggle of Goats, Cats and foreigners to borrow a tow.  Sadly, it was quite a surge-a-thon headed to Ardmona, I guess there's nothing like working with people you know to smooth out the pace.  There was a questionable call to cross the highway with cars rapidly approaching, only AvantiDave (Tatura) and I were without a death wish and stopped.  Off the back of the bunch, we teamed together back to Tat, a Lions lunch, bananas, coffee and cake refilled the tank, Car+Mel's motivation inspiring leg two.

Northbound from Tatura, I was baulked by traffic again at the highway, detached from the big guns Eggman, BigBen, Dion, 'lilTony etc driving the lead pack.  Repeating the mornings steady grind in the hope of collecting a small group, I'd passed a few offcasts en route to Ardmona and Mooroopna, even a few still toiling the 50k event.  Nearly within reach of a dozen in Mooroopna, highway traffic lights forced my two minute stop, all hope of sharing the load with a bunch was lost, 32k of headwind was all mine!  Frustration at the relentless WSW'er (32-44km/h), fighting the gusts coming in at two o'clock, annoyed being unable to bridge the gap (27 was all the legs would give) and fumbling to peel an energy bar wrapper invoked growling out loud. On and on trying to reel 'em in, the eternity finally ended at Murchison, finding the bunch (Tina, Clive, Jodie, CitizenCain, AvantiDave, 2 Brunswick LaPierre's, a 15 y.o. and a handful of other foreigners) berthed filling tanks at the drink station.   It was sheer joy to join in and share the fight west, the pong of dead roo's, an incline or two and our ever present enemy the wind, 18 k's of teamwork reaching Rushworth to welcome the long awaited tail wind home.  Twas heaven with the wind up our cassette, the sweet sound of wheels humming in the fourties with just a touch of over exuberance on a few rises toward the Basin.  A steady slog on the little cogs to Harston, my right knee creak forced a back seat for relief. On the outskirts of Tat I hit a small hole, rupturing the rear tube, a niggle so close to the finish but it's just a part of the bike riders tax to pay.  Repaired and resaddled, the Garmin showed 194.4 km, my OCD urging a couple of town laps to ensure 200.02 ticked over at the inflatable finish arch. 4227 calories to compensate, a big feed was enjoyed, even a complimentary ale!, hats off to the motorcycle guides (even stopping to point out the larger road craters), the organisers and caterers for a great event, just turn the wind off next year!  Steps 78,447

The pedometer challenge finally finished, a 28 day total of 1025826 steps tells me I need new shoes.

7/11

Rice bubble legs had stopped their Saturday night snap, crackle and pop and by Sunday arvo the posterior had stopped glowing like Chernobyl's reactor.  Now all remained was the cognitive aversion therapy to treat my wind terrors.  Mountain machine (and Vets vixen) Cate was keen to keep the Monday habit, an easterly effort on New Dookie Rd comparing hills, distance and racing, another delicious dawn distracting us from pushing into the northeaster.  There was restitution turning at the church for a few moments till the speed instinct took over, felt more like summer with a tailwind helping the trip back to town.  A long peace train of Goats were approaching as we swung south into Boundary and made good ground to Channel Rd, company drives you a little harder than solo (meant to be beneficial), the twang in muscles murdered on Saturday sent conflicting messages. The lure of the ChaCha summoned yet more pace, a lap well spent to shake off the distance dramas.

8/11

Turtles were an endangered species on Tuesday, only AvantiTrev, Temple, Nick, HBK and Cougar fronting the carpark for the early off.  Feeling fairly primed, I had no hesitation pairing with HBK (well, alongside in rather loose terms) for leg one, silence from the bunch indicated a maximum had already been reached.  Temple fronted leg two and AvantiTrev tackled leg three, but that was the sum total of contributors to the pointy end.  By Channel Rd's end just Temple, HBK and I were taking the helm, so it turned Indian file rules.  Temple to the bridges and HBK to the turn west left me the front-of-house for River Rd, gently on the gas for a hundred metres to gather the tail then squeeze the accelerator to guess what was acceptable.  By the 2nd k I had the isolation sensation, a glance back finding a 100 metre hole between engine and carriages. I backed off for a bit to recouple the train, then slowly back onto pace (but a considerate k off the previous per hour).  An eastbound Wozz was in search of the Hares as I handed the helm over to Temple to take us to Rivers end, HBK dragging us to Mitchell, my turn again west to the highway.  Temple's tempo was tamed for Raftery's first k so we didn't snap off the tail, but the drive to Conrod straight soaking up an assisting breeze busted bits off. I wound up the wick out of the dip, but HBK lay in wait for a short victorious burst in the dying metres, a decent lap done for a small pack.

9/11

Short knicks (to defy the winter that won't let go) didn't raise the temperature to double digits, but a warm and welcoming Couldabeens commute with Wozz, Cate, Car+Mel helped.  Chops, Shorty, SuperMario, Nick, Cougar, Rocket, Nev, Kel, Bo, AvantiTrev, Bruce, Boof, Grumpy, BamBam, Pelly, Troy, Weapon and Jase almost set an attendance record, but  the likes of KillkennyPaul, Softa, BigMat, Fisky, WhisperingJack, Lucy, Gazzagrasshopper, HashBrown etc are extinct.  Wozza steered the ship south at six, AvantiMat (fresh from Nevada) joining on the town's exit.  My sandpapered tonsils sent a no no to the head about a turn at the front, good on 'ya Cate for mixing it with the horsepower driving to Mitchell Rd. A reunited HurtLocker straggled south at Kialla Central, our flu full Rocket sitting quietly in the rear stalls as two long lines of cyclusts rolled east in varying velocities.  Hallelujah! The Boundary Rd chasm has been patched, a bitumen Band-Aid to ease the concerns of murdering wheels or those propelling them.  I'd almost reached the front in Channel Rd when begged to fill an enlarged hole in the bunch's left lane, not troubled to sit this one out.  Eventually called across to the up line at Prentice Rd by Mel (an ulterior motive me thinks), I wound up the tempo behind the long lean legs of Weapon.  The FDC's had the box seat with Grumpy, Troy, BamBam and Pelly line astern in the final 100, but it was Boof who snatched the honours from Bo, the recovering Rocket in a rare repose.

10/11

Ctrl-Alt-Delete the regular ride routine with a long lap Thursday, reckon it's good to break the ritual 30-40k circuits and teach the head and legs to cope with something different.  A New & Old Dookie loop was an aperitif to a gallivant with Goats, the intention to tap to the church thrown out with a SSW'er as an ally for pace.  A calm at Boundary Rd to cruise to the church, at the Toaster it was pleasing to be faster than predicted into the headwind but the piggery perfume was particularly pungent.  Joey was limb limbering at Friars for my early arrival, Brendan, Tina, Phil, Coggo, Belly and Snow rolling in, HG and JB the latecomers joining on the exit.  Coggo and I set the cruise control on Old Dookie, JB dialling up the effort aboard the squeaky MrSheen clean Pinarello to Dobsons. Joey's and Snow's go was abbreviated, Tina, Phil and Belly in good form, Coggo taking me out of my comfort zone and into the high 30's for River Rd.  Speed see-sawed on the 6k way west, minutes mattering for me to early exit via the deserted truck route and soak up Archer D's tail wind home.

11/11

Cate, Car+Mel were the social salve Friday, pushing (165 bpm) to reach the carpark with a lashed larynx.  Me thinks the flu is nigh, but legs craved a thrash.  Kenworth, Boof, Chops, SuperMario, AvantiTrev, AvantiMat, Nick, Kel, Weapon, Bo, Temple and Jase formed a grid, even WhisperingJack appeared from the obscurity of hibernation!   Early FDC's Troy, BamBam, Pelly and Ralphy with Wozz and Bruce rolled in from a Kialla mini-loop,  Car+Mel's manoeuvre to mid grid was scuttled by lining up behind, but Boof braved the front for leg one, Bruce taking the trek from fourteenth to form the up line as we gathered Shorty on the town limit. I was the bunch trailer today, now regretting not embracing the doona for a sleep-in, hanging on with WhisperingJack as company and squeezing a slice of sociability as Couldabeens changed over to the up-line. Bunches galore hummed and hollered on their way west, an expired skippy to dodge at the Boundary Band-Aid.  My throttled throat made it hard to call the punters across to the up line, hand signals sufficed in Channel Rd. By the cypress trees it seemed half the bunch were sitting on, Bo skipping duty but hatching a sprint plan for the ChaCha. Surprised to nudge 50 and finish mid field in my state, but the tank was empty on the commute to reach home.

Week 45.        407km.           YTD  13,807km