2017 : A ride review

Post #428

I'd dialed down the distance obsession (to 288km per week), lost the weight of a bike and ticked over 60 for 2017.    Speed splintered the Couldabeens on Tuesdays and Thursdays to differing start times, keeping comfort within the classes. The Turtles (averaging 36's) faded for the rise of the Machines (39's) , the Hares broke the 40's and beyond consistently but attracted accelerative attention, and a 6am tap evolved to suit calmer Couldabeens.

Winter wore away the motivation of many (29 days of 2 degrees or below required rigorous resolve) thinning the numbers of all bunches, more than usual hibernating this year which made for crucifying comebacks in Spring (and some didn't come back at all). There were new kits for Couldabeens and Goats and strange circumstances set off spills to sideline Coggo, Heady, Temple, KillkennyPaul and Wozza, right arms or shoulders the fashoinable faux pas.

6 tyres, 3 chains, a new DuraAce 9000 groupset and a service were needed for 19 rides with the Turtles, 37 solo's, 41 with the Goats, 4 with Pussycats, 2 with the Adams family, 11 with the Hares, 31 with the Machines, 4 Goat pain trains and 148 laps with the Couldabeens.

Oh yeah, an Australia Day ride, 8 goes at Beach Road, a belt on the Ballarat bunch, a Fruitloop, a Tat 200 (awesome team), a Tour de Pub, 3 rides around Castlemaine, a lap with the Bendigo bunch, a circuit of Creswick, up Arthurs Seat, up and down Mt Buller and Mt Buffalo, Carrum to Mornington, tours to Tatura, Toolamba and Undera, and an Amy Gran Fondo on the Great Ocean Rd as well.  Riding retired for 37 days off (16 for rain), but I clocked a conservative 14,053 km (climbing just 27,800 meters)   Hey, that needs 95 kg of fruitcake!  (306,000 calories)

As always, fantastic fellowship made the year.  The regulars, the rarities, the obsessed and the battlers (choose your catagory!) all make for great company and motivation, thanks to all for your comradery (and understanding!) as we delight in this disease.   Much appreciation all your comments on the blog too, though I'm rather humbled by it's following.

Keep safe and upright for 2018 folks and lend a g'day to a fellow addict (even if you don't know them, they've got the same illness). 

Reckon I might do a lap or two next year.

Week 52 : Pleasure for past pains

Post 427
23/12 Couldabeens Christmas.

Another year has almost flown by, time again for the Christmas spirit to flow on a festive Couldabeens circuit.

All factions had formed (Boof, TatMat, TatPaul, BeerMat, Nick, Rocket, SuperMario, BamBam, Fisky, Car+Mel, Tina, Popgun, Cougar, Shorty, WhisperingJack, Pat, PistolPete, MyRideTrev, Softa, Travis, Grumpy, TrekTrev, Sean and BigLen) so the capped speed ruled, many were in less than aero trim with Christmas decorations aplenty anyway.

The now usual 52k lap met with the earlybirds Trav, SuperMario, Bruce,  The Godfather, NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, Kel and Bo, TrackStan and Sam joining as we turned into Mitchell Rd.

The spike in speed as 37 reactions responded to the acelleration caused comotion in the caboose, but some just don't predict it coming and were caught napping.  Traffic calls failed dismally in two long lines, many oblivious, stuck in Christmas chat mode.  Some struggled and some snored as the bunch worked east on River Rd, an insight into the grades catered for in this ever-expanding group.  7k's north, 3 k's east, 3 k's north again and 4 k's west, I eventually faced the front in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd beside Tina, the pace kept legal but it silenced a few unacustomed to the pointy end. Wanganui's usual urge had vanished, Christmas spirit had spent the sprint, so an unusually collected crew rolled the Boulevard bound for breakfast.
We'd crowded the Lemontree's pavement, chat on pre or post ride digestion, when does the sun go over the yard arm? and photo-bombs kept the noise levels up, bolstered by beer.

Photo credit : ScottMatt

24/12  Border Patrol.
I had a Christmas shift of circuit whilst on a short break, a chance to patrol the Victorian/NSW border as a change to the gridlike flatlands of home.  Solo suited the mindset, besides, one softens like Softa in the constant draft of a bunch.

Barooga bound from Tocumwal in Sunday's early hours, the first two k's were spent slowly turning up the tempo on a deserted 18k drive (of course, I copped a headwind to hinder), getting the heart rate up to a standard that justified post-ride coffee and cake.  Kanga's and rabbits greeted the sun-up, soon finding Barooga among the bumps and corrugations of Moira shire's tarmac.  I steered south and west to what woke Cobram (a tasty ranga runner pounding the pavement) and chose to extend south on Campbell Rd, sighting the local landmark grafitti of a recent bike spill. (causes a contemplative caution).
West onto Parnell Rd at Mukatah and over the C371, I headed to Sandmount on a long drag 12 k's west as the days' heat built.   An easterly breeze slowly swung north to labor me on Labuan Rd, head down and elbows in cut the drag to give me an 8th overall en route to the Murray Valley highway.  Twas easier east to Yarroweyah, settling into zone 3 to prepare for another slog north back to Tocumwal, a terminated turtle, a prostrate possum and a kangaroo cadaver assaulting the nostrils on an almost empty highway.

I had an Aussie interuption at Koonoomoo for 100 lambs to be herded across the Goulburn Valley highway, then onward interstate over the river and back to "Toke", a long black and chocolate tart the reward for 70k's and a 1200 calorie hole made ready for Christmas lunch.  Out of nowhere, Manny hollers hello from a bunch rolling through town.  Small world eh?!

26/12  The Boxing Day test.

Hardly Hume or Hovell (though I felt like an explorer) a ride in the lower Riverina had an air of discovery about it Tuesday.
There's a sense of adventure cranking unknown roads, east out of Tocumwal then pointed north on Woolshed Rd as the sun rose on Boxing Day, though the thin strip of tarmac through the flat, dry plains left me at the mercy of an energising east northeaster, bumping up the heart rate to the 160's and burning the rectus femorus in the battle to maintain the 30's.

Something drives the motivation to continue, on and on the road stretched to the horizon as the mental murder of Bells Armstrong Rd came as comparison (though this one was two lanes wide and far less corrugated).  Farmhouses were ages apart, one tractor the only traffic in 20 km before the monotony broke with a slow swing to the west.  Delighted Woolshed Rd was done, I steered onto the Riverina highway with the breeze up the behind, erasing the last 36 minutes of pain to savour the 6k's of smooth into Finley, negotiating the whim of the street sweeper and turning south onto the Newell highway.

Determination drove the head down and the speed up southward, a 2 meter wide emergency stopping lane all mine to make motion toward Tocumwal.  The bravado was slowly chiseled away by the ENE'er blowing into the 20's, the highway swinging toward it, the burning legs and spurious speed making it a flog to the finish 18k's away.  A promised bakery trophy spurred on the final kilometers into town, satisfaction in a solo effort but harboring a hunger for bunch sociology.

27/12  Purging pudding.

I'd expected holidays would cull the Couldabeens crowd for Wednesday's ride, but many with the Christmas guilt of gastronomy fronted for a calorie burn at 6am.  TrekTrev, MyRideTrev, AvantiAndy, NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, Jen, Rocket, Cate, Pelly, SuperMario and Tina set sail south (thanks east northeaster!) to find the early edition (Kel, PistolPete, The Godfather, Vince and Bo).  Me being brave beside Rocket at the front to Sanctuary's roundabout then with NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John to the truck route, had Christmas lunch still handbraking my performance.

Speed soon settled as the reality of a headwind trimmed the tempo in Mitchell Rd, Christmas comparisons shared with the advancing troops as I was demoted toward the caboose.  The Godfather hurled his cheeky chides to the passing parade of pussycats in River Rd, I'd since joined the promotion to the up-line attempting conversation with the cooked coming off the front.
I'd timed (perfectly) my next turn as we swung north onto Boundary Rd, up and over the highway bilious Bo baulked at moving from the caboose, maybe the Godfathers gastronomy kept him there too?  With a change of route to take Old Dookie Rd home, we were handed a hurry-up with a tailwind to town, many scoring Strava successes on the hotfoot to the Lemontree.  Christmas creativity, unlikely liaisons and Jason Lowndes tragic passing was the talk on the table, a crowd on coffee and few on food hinted at the tummy torment endured of late.



28/12  Bustin' Buffalo
Climatising to climbs took me to Mount Buffalo on Thursday, Pistol Pete and Tina came along to show how it should be done.

A roll out from Porpunkah prepared the legs for the labor 1246 meters up, getting the head over the height would be a longer battle.  We'd agreed to tackle the slope seperately and meet at the top, Pistol drawing away ahead while Tina tended to nature's call.  It was preferrable to be in my own space as the road rose, the chain was dropped to the little ring at the gatehouse (cadence for the climb) as the heart rate jumped to the 170's just as fast.  Finding that zone between turmoil and tempo didn't take long, onward and upward the road snaked it's way higher, happy I was passing a few other bikes on the way up, but it calmed the cockiness as a few passed me. 18 k's seems a long haul on this HC climb, legs and lungs loving the reprieve as a short 1 k flat section arrived.  The grinning descendants drove my determination upward, keeping a cap on the heart rate meant an ease of speed at times to avert an explosion.
A light sprinkle from the sky air conditioned the effort, through the segments of "now kick like a mule" and "snake bite" and up to Devils' elbow the crest finally seemed near.  I'd forgotten the pleasure of the downhill to the Chalet turn-off, a few seconds at 40 km/h seemed supersonic after an hour at 14.  One more short ascent and the peak was reached, plenty of fellow addicts snapping their acheivement at the Chalet gate.  Pistol had arrived 15 minutes before and Tina was just a few minutes behind me, but I was happy with the achievement on an engine used to level ground.  (How the hell did the KOM average 25.1?!) A short chat and a pic for posterity then we each set off on the descent, careful to recall the hairpins for survival's sake.

I got daring beyond the sharp bends, wanting pleasure for the past pains, letting loose on the downhill with the wind noise howling between the ears.  A small group climbing had taken a monopoly on the uphill lane, the frustrated car passing them approached me head-on just as I exited a 58 km/h bend.  A spike in the heart rate and almost a skid in the chamois!   The 24:06 downhill put perspective on my 1:17:03 climb, all too soon the tarmac flattened to the gatehouse for our rendevous.  There was collective cruise back to Porpunkah, though the first small rise delivered the legs a stinging souvenir.

29/12  A sweat cycle.

The easterly would torture a turn on the front in Mitchell Rd, so it was Rule #5 and get duty done early, even if my pairing with Boof hurt.  BassoDan played fair beside me to Mitchell Rd but he had to match PistolPete power into the headwind to Central Kialla (plenty of solo slogs has paid BassoDan well)

SuperMario, Nick, The Godfather, Tina, MyRideTrev, Cate and Shorty took the speed sacrament as Rocket and I were relegated to the rear, my early tactic working well while others worked the wind in River Rd. 
Battling the breeze from the east was a breeze in comparison, with Boof to the bridges and with BassoDan to Channel Rd, ready for a tailwind home.  Heaps of humidity and a tropical 21 built a sweat, on toward the ChaCha with haste had a few in a lather.  PistolPete accelerated to the horizon as I faded off the front at Prentice Rd, Weapon joining the dozen spinning to town to finish the week socially and Scottishly at Maccas for coffee.


Week 52     298 km                 YTD 13,770 km

Week 51 ; Mental messages to labored legs

Post 426
16/12  Saturdazed.

News of Wozza's tangle with a car en-route to the early edition dazed the day, bike a bit battle scarred, Wozza wounded but walking.  Rocket, Kel, Bo, Grumpy, ScottMatt and (surprisingly) SuperMario assembled for a 26k prologue to the standard Saturday spin, the puff of a south southwester spoiling my speed out Channel Rd (and not letting the pairing with Rocket daunt my drive).  I was in real trouble matching Bo to Orrvale Rd till he said "I hope this is hurting you as much as it's hurting me!   Admiration for ScottMatt and SuperMario to step up to the pointy end when they're in driving defecit (aint it a bugger when work gets in the way of a good ride)  The work into the wind on Boundary Rd needed mind messages to drive the legs to reach River Rd, so what mental motivation drives you?

Legs were burning headed west trying to do my fair share beside Bo, but I was already dreaming of the draft when the turns rolled.  First light cast long shadows in Central Kialla, another effort at the front for me in Mitchell, then a length of Archer to the truck route labored me on the limit.  Finding the 6am crew was a comfort, delighting in the draft once we'd sprinted onto the bunch's bum.  Round two of the morning's greetings began with TatMat, BassoDan, TrekTrev, TatPaul, Sean, Shorty, Boof, The Godfather, Tina, Softa, Liam, CatCol, Travis, Tommygun and Tum, even Fisky had emerged from obscurity.   We blended into the rotations, back around to Mitchell and Central Kialla, relaxed in the bunch with the breeze in our favour.  Saturday's standard sociology started the sentences ; Tommygun finding fitness, the day's drought of gals, TatMat's forthcoming leave, KillkennyPaul's surgery success and CatCol's margarita mix.
A turn at the front between Bo and ScottMatt then east to the Toaster, back into the comfort of a tow to the 'big ring' then west toward town. I was nearing hard labor at the front as the bunch finished off Ford Rd, but the accellerator was squeezed when Rocket faced the front in Wanganui, drawing the pack long and silent.

Grumpy and Bo slipped into the slipstream, seating me fourth and flat chat as DECA blurred by.  Rocket's run was done, Grumpy then Bo's blast was brief as Pistol saved me from hell firing past to set the sprinters salivating.  Bikes belted by relegating me to the rear ranks rapidly to tackle Mt.Wanganui's ascent, then the calm to collect the carnage of the cooked for a Boulevard to breakfast bolt through town.   Climbing, being dropped and bigger distances was the breakfast banter, Temple and Wozza making an arm afflicted appearance.






A convivial Couldabeens Christmas gathering Saturday night at CatCol's for celebratory hydration bred a few headaches, great to have "the three arm-igo's" along drowning their accidental sorrows.



18/12   A lap lacking loquacity.
Sleep was scarce Monday morning, the cranial communications deafening enough to to rise from the cot and ride at 5.  A ye-olde Cat lap (Old Dookie, Boundary and Channel) was selected to loosen legs (rust sets in even after one day off), 17 degrees sublime to spin the 17 cog and pay no heed to speed.

An orange daybreak faded fast on Channel Rd, a rare sighting of the endangered Ozzie en-route to my Lemontree cafiene kick start, loquacity lapped up with Weapon over banana bread.


19/12  Tour de Torture.
Tuesday was a toaster (26 degrees & a 18-32k ENE'er) for Tum, Grumpy, Tina, BamBam and Ralphy, promising torture to Boundary and tempo back to town.  CatCol arrived for the Hares attempting to poach our participants, but all were devoted to driving with the 5:45's rather than hanging on to a quick caboose. Tum talked me into the lead role for leg 1 to Feiglin Rd where I relinquished the reigns, wrecked. Tum and Tina hurried us to Orrvale Rd, Grumpy and Ralphy driving to the Kinder where BamBam took over, somewhat sedately in comparison.  My flogging at the front came around too quickly as we reached McFadyen Rd, shorter shifts (to the cypress trees) my only hope of further contributions.  Ralphy ramped up the rate as Grumpy rolled off the pointy end, possibly the begining of the end for him.  Pointing south on Boundary Rd there was only five to drive, Grumpy'd gone OTA and was left for Hares to hunt down. Effort was easier with the wind at the portside but the speed was stoked up so suffering stayed on the agenda.

My reserve tank was emptying trying to stay aboard as Tum and Ralphy took the drivers seat in River Rd, at least BamBam's pace allowed my h.r. to dip below 180.  I'd recovered enough to put in a reasonable drive to Laws Drive but barely had enough to catch Tina's wheel (there's the sound of that growling bear again!)  Up and over the bridge to Rivers end, through Central Kialla and another shift beckoned to test the limits.  Mental messages to labored legs were getting rude replies as we whistled west and shot across a clear highway, my view ahead blinkered by blurred edges as Tum turned up the torment to Galbraiths gate.  Tina's turn of tough tempo terminated at Arcadia Downs as I set my target to the curve into Conrod, but had nothing to fill the gap on BamBam's wheel when Tina called me in.  Four cranked onward on Conrod, cooked, encouraging words to Tina to take the chocolates then we all collectively caved in to gorge on oxygen to the skinny bridge, chuffed at a 39.3 average.

21/12  Five contrived to drive.

Thursday's temperate temperature (12) was warmly welcomed, though the 5:45 roll-up only favoured four (Cate, Tum, BamBam and Ralphy), seems speed spooks the spasmodic.  I'd made a concerted effort to moderte my  contributions at the front (to leave something in the tank to finish), peeling off at Feiglin Rd for Cate, Tum, BamBam and Ralphy to do their bit.   Over the truck route, past the school and round Kinder corner it was my turn again, compromising between Tum and Ralphy's 40 and BamBam's 36, opting for longer rather than faster (if the old engine allowed).  The theory was working when Ralphy showed his elbow for my next go at Boundary Rd's bridges, enough energy for a better than basic turn into the SSW'er to River Rd.  Kindling covered the corner from Wednesday's wild weather, but we threaded a path west sharing the 6k length as the sun put some light on the subject.  Another round of rigor by the troops and I was on the front again at PistolPete's, feeling a bit guilty at a 90% effort I towed the team to the highway as compensation.  A sneak peek behind  at Roubaix corner saw Hare headlights gaining, but thanks to tenacious teamwork we crossed the line 200 meters in credit, content with a 38.3 average.
22/12  Festive Friday.  Quite a change to roll to the Couldabeens with NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, a mindset on a social spin rather than the torment of toil.  Chops, Travis, Liam, Tina, Nick, Nev, BamBam, Shorty, MyRideTrev, Sean, SuperMario, CatCol, Pelly and Kenworth assembled in a similar social style, Nev doing the honors of towing us out of town. 

Intercepting the pre-dawn prologue'rs (Kel, Rocket, Grumpy, PistolPete, Trav, Bruce, ScottMatt, Bo and The Godfather) at the truck route almost doubled the attendance, a chance to gas-bag instead of the gasps that are the only communication on Tuesday's and Thursday's. And so the crew cranked the usual course, thoughts distracted from mortgages, meetings, mothers-in-law, money and management. We came across Tommygun nearing River's end, then steered north, a whip crack of acceleration as two dozen drove to Channel Rd.

Rocket spurred on the speed as he headed the herd into Kinder corner, Liam taking the lead-out task at Prentice Rd.  Sitting in a dream draft at 6th wheel, I was expecting CatCol and co to fly by, but had a hair-raising hesitation when Nev touched wheels with NewAvantiJohn, setting the sphincter a quiver. All remained vertical, a split second pause on power, then Nev was hurtling toward the horizon. I'd picked off forth and third to finish as second fiddle, and not one go at the front!  Week 51        222km          YTD 13,742km  

 

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Week 50 : The thrash threshold

Post 425
9/12  That hurt, Arthur!

The windswept coast of Safety Beach was a different (solo) starting grid for me Saturday, another hilly holiday hiatus to test my comfort zone.  A flat 10k warm up prepared the lungs and legs but the head herniated at the sharpish incline of Arthurs' Seat the moment I pointed up McCulloch St in Dromana.  Down on the little ring at Wonga gate for the 3k's of road rising 300 meters, the physical chore wasn't too bad, getting the head around the rise was the tough bit.  I'd almost settled into a rhythm on an incline when a hairpin would call on Hercules for help, up and up the tarmac twisted with super seaside scenes to divert attention from the physical flogging.   A few riders were already on the downhill before 7, grinning like Cheshire cats at their ease (and my effort?), yet another hairpin crucifying my cadence with a ladder like lift in elevation.

Thankfully, three kilometers was eventually whittled away on the 38/25, the crest soon coming into view to drag a bit more grunt out of the gastrochs.  Up to the summit somewhat smug (11.8 average), a posterity pic, then onto Purves Rd in a clockwise crank toward Rosebud (rather than straight back down again), the rolling hills and ocean views easy on the eye on the gradual descent.

Into Rosebud and on the flat oceanside road, the west northwester helped a little for pacy progress back to Dromana, but there was a seaside sandblast with the speed as I rounded up a few just venturing out into the elements.  Back into Safety Beach ahead of schedule, I pressed onto to Mt Martha, the ups and downs of little consequence after Arthur's hurt.  Local traffic was most patient on the narrow ribbon of road hugging the coast, confidence climbing on the return to use up the reserves and treat my tank to coffee at the end (shame the Safety Beach long black was like swamp water!)

10/12  SunBayDay.

The last day of hols and a final chance to take in the sea air of Phillip's bay, a 5,40 start and surprisingly a few were out and about pounding pedals.  Gently warming up the old engine toward Mentone, expectations of Strava successes were slim but it didn't hold back a few efforts on the inclines. Past the grand old Edgy (Mentone Hotel) and on through the "burbs", the city skyline spurred on the speed nearing St.Kilda, bunches now commonplace bearing south.  Time turned me around at the "Espy" and making some use of the west northwester, I headed south, some on a similar course sizing up their quarry.  Avoiding the brand of being a wheelsucker, I kept a 10 meter gap to a young Cervelo ahead, but a feeling of a presence nearby was overwhelming (a peek under my arm found a young Giant glued to my wheel).  Paying no heed but continuing the tempo, I rolled onward, somewhat hopeful of turns to be shared, but 2k's later he leapfrogged to a passing TT Specialised.  Pushing on solo under my own steam was far more satisfying than sucking off other wheels,  Mr Giant and Mr Specialised drawing slowly ahead only fuelled my determination. The sun struggled to pierce a grey sky as more bikes braved the bayside, and I'd  made up some distance on the inclines on the two swapping turns ahead.  A long gradual downhill at Rickett's Point drew me even closer which lit a fire inside, the curse of competition driving me into the 40's to nip at their heels. Too soon Mordialloc arrived but I'd had a satisfying circuit (32 PB's) with a tasty trophy of coffee and toast at Tour de Cafe as the reward.

11/12     Back to base.

Good to be back on home soil (though Melbourne's silken streets spoiled my undercarriage) to tap an early lap and intercept the Couldabeens expolring optional circuits (in a quest for quality cafiene)  There was a light breeze to bear southbound to River Rd, a colorful daybreak to light my way east to Boundary Rd and enjoy a tailwind to Channel.

(Me thinks it time for some h.r. monitor maintenance when it shows 217 bpm)   The Godfather, Bo, Trav, Rocket, PistolPete, Kel, CatCol and BamBam were found just beyond the cypress trees on Channel Rd, a quick u-turn to join them on a Boundary-Ford-Wanganui course for variety's sake.  The past weekend kept the conversation rallying from left to right as I re-aquainted with the art of bunch riding, reliable and consistent company keeping comfort with a social side as a bonus.  The smooth and solid spin passed the k's of Boundary and Ford quickly, the sprint-free Wanganui Rd felt foreign, and it was back to civilisation with time up the armwarmer for a few minutes of sociology at the Lemontree.





12/12  Fourplay followed by a threesome.
Just Tum and I were at the Tuesday grid at 5:44, we'd almost resolved to being caught by the Hares till Ralphy and Pelly saved the day fronting at the third stroke.  Hindered by traffic on the carpark exit stoked the fire to reach Mozart Ave quickly, a silly idea really with a lot of work by few to do today.  Ralphy poured on the pace to Orrvale Rd, Pelly a little more sedate to Prentice Rd.  It was my turn again (so soon!) to drive to McFadyen, the fine balance of team expectations, what the legs would give, keeping breakfast where I put it, and leaving something to catch the caboose was a delicate jugling act.  Pelly personified pooped as Channel Rd ran out, he'd dropped a few lengths as we wound up the tempo into Boundary Rd, and no amount of encouragement was going to get him back.  With just three left to uphold the standards, the toil was going to get tougher, even Ralphy had eased the effort a whisker when he resumed the drivers seat.

Three long laboring shadows were cast northwest on River Rd, Tum then Ralphy captained us to the bridge where I felt compelled to drive to Central Kialla Rd.  There was little left when I faced the music again in Mitchell Rd, though I guess the others were in that same sinking boat.  Luck gave us a clean cross of the highway (surprised we weren't herded up by Hares already), more motivation with a hint of a tailwind helping us to Galbraiths gate.  We gathered up Lucy at Arcadia Downs to press on to the finish, Ralphy handing me the reigns with 500 meters left of Conrod straight.  Being swallowed by the Hares didn't eventuate, we'd reached Steptoe's 100 meters ahead, albeit hyperventilating from 28k's in 44:19.

13/12  Conviviality.

Kenworth, Shorty, Mel, SuperMario, Cate, CatCol, AvantiAndy, Chops, Jen, Goose, MyRideTrev, WhisperingJack, Boof, Softa, Lucy and The Godfather wheeled in for Wednesday's workout, I was happy to take the helm in a mild and windless 15 degrees but it was half way to Sanctuary before Shorty shared the front (Nick jumping aboard as we reached the roundabout).  The peloton population propagated with the earlybirds (Trav, Kel, Wozza, Bo, Bruce, BamBam and Pistol) intervening on leg three, 23 moving forward for driving duty. Convivial conversation on photo bombing, addresses, holidays, controversial kits, house rennos, little rings, growling bears, proprietor priveliges, feeling a million dollars and the classic climate, consumed the k's to Boundary Rd.

A tiny train of pained Goats turned west, seems less gallant Goats were on a lame train.  The rubber band effect went twang at the rear as our two dozen drove north, recent efforts wearing away my wattage to find a social spin somewhat sapping.  Turned toward town got a little easier working with the wind, the line-up of Kel, Lucy, Jen, Mel and Cate captaining the crew to Kinder corner.  Bo let loose at the ChaCha though many were keen to let him cook at the front, Wozza's wattage winning the line honours before the sociology started for the spin homeward.

14/12  Four-tuitous.

I was in a state of high powered inertia on Thursday, a big bowl on Kellogs Kourage needed to drag me to Thursday's thrash, but only Cate, Softa and Boof had bothered to front (when the going gets tough.......)   On a mission of motion with a hoard of Hares about to start behind us, we set off on Channel Rd with a breeze to hinder, rounding up Cougar and Pat (getting an earlier break on the 6am crew?).  Turns were swift an sweaty at 23 degrees, coming around way too quickly with just Softa, Cate and Boof sharing the slog (we were blessed to have Boof along as special guest, fast even with a knackered knee).  My shift in Boundary Rd to the bridges taxed the tank as the breeze blew at us, there'd have to be a speed revision if I were to survive 28k's of this.  I trimmed 20 bpm off as Cate and Softa put in their best (as usual), the tow from Boof long and smooth helping the recharge too. I'd scored the last long leg of River Rd from the bridge, just a 100 meters in and I was back on the thrash threshold (that breeze had swung against us again!). Surprised the Hares weren't nipping at our heels as we drove down and up from Dave's dip, a clean cross of the highway helped hopes but leds were closing in as I sneaked a peek at Galbraiths gate.  We'd made it out of Conrod's first dip when Wozz wizzed by with a dozen Hares in his slim draft, me thinks us 4 had done well to hold off 13 this long.  With just enough in the legs to catch their draft, we stole a free tow to the finish, pleased to have clocked 38.7 for the circuit.

15/12  There's pills for that Wozza!

I'd looked forward to a social cruise after the energy expense of Tuesday and Thursday, but paid the price of first berth at the Friday grid, the job of the long lead to exit town.  Car+Mel, NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, Nick, Whispering Jack, Goose, Kenworth, Chops, Troy, Tina, MyRideTrev, Cate, The Godfather, PistolPete, Nev, Boof, SuperMario, Shorty and CatCol were clever enough to roll in later for the tow.

With the big roll-up there'd be probably just one go at the front, so I set forth south at 6, slowly to speed to satisfy the survivors.   Wozza, Bruce, Rocket, Trav, Kel, Bo and Grumpy massed with the mob to reach Mitchell Rd, pointing into the sunshine and lapping up the mild 15 degrees we'd worked most of winter to reach.

Clockwise crews worked west as we entertained east on River Rd, how the bunch has evolved when the memory is rewound to the early days of the Mitchell Rd course.  Up to Channel Rd, MyRideTrev led to Kinder corner (again), Wozza launching prematurely (there's pills for that!) causing concern to the ChaCha contenders.    Rocket, Bo, NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, CatCol and co set off in earnest effort, not until Prentice Rd was Wozza reeled in. I reckoned it was Rocket who took the chocolates, I'd gone a bit blurry to make fourth place.

Week 50        297km              YTD 13,250km

Week 49 : Hernia hairpin

Post 424
3/12  Sunday soliloquy.

I wrestled with procrastination in the early hours of Sunday as a southwester rattled the roof, but the emptiness of a ride-less Saturday needed filling.  With a big spoonful of Rule #5 on my breakfast I faced the outdoors, plotting a different course of headwind out and tailwind home to throw the spice of variety in the day.  Working to Tatura against a stiff southwester (28-46 km/h) was jumping in the deep end, the highways' shoulder already disintegrating despite a recent widening and reseal (retitled Roubaix Road?)   A spin on the 17 cog kept some dignity in the speed, the heart rate steadily climbing till reaching Undera Rd.

The turn south was marginally easier, through the sleeping Tatura township and further southward, watching the watch to select a timely route for home.  I'd have needed an onboard therapist to reach Murchison against the wind, so softened to set Toolamba in my sights.

Dark clouds painted a dreary picture but progress was bright pointed east, soon reaching the tiny town and on toward the bridge.  A compulsory dismount (or lose a wheel in the plank gaps) to ford on foot, off the boards and back aboard, then on to the highway, but Union Rd was a no go zone with the river risen.  The highway home was hassle free (slim on Sunday traffic), the assisting wind to town a trophy for the earlier effort.  Banana bread, a long black, Fossilosophy and wise words with Weapon at the Lemontree was a fitting finale.

4/12  Buller by Baum

Almost 10 years since facing the Mt.Buller demons, the old hill hasn't changed, I wonder if Foss has?  Never a fan of climbing, it's time I built a bridge, so motored to Merrijig, Baum aboard.  10k's of warm-up with a few little ups and downs to Sawmill Settlement was an ascent aperitif, the uphill proper starting at Mirimbah.   Raising a sweat within a k, it was pleasant to crank along in the 12 degree shade of the tall timber and ferns, rosellas providing the colour and lyre birds providing the music, but it was time to form a bond with my new found friend, the 38 ring. 80rpm kept a satisfactory speed but the heart rate was on an uphill climb too, trying to pace myself for the "last ditch effort" near the peak.

There was a few hundred meters respite at chain bay #1 as the road leveled but all too soon the tarmac snakes upward again toward the 1346 meter peak, a hairpin or six to keep me on my toes and keep my seat off the saddle.  The summit was hidden in the trees making judgement of pace difficult, around "un-named corner" (I'll call it hernia hairpin) and up to Hell Corner, sighting the ski lifts a reminder of the big pinch ahead.

I'd been happy to have 13 and 14 on the speedo up till now, expectations for the last 3k thrown out the window to settle just for survival.  Closer the village loomed and steeper the tarmac rose, banging on the 185 limit as the 38/28 ratio slowed to sting the legs.  Switching to angry mode to crest the last bump got me to the top, the growling bear slowly quietened as the cardiac calmed on the flat crest.

A happy snap to prove the performance, a roll to restore the chain to the big ring, then pointed downhill for the post exertion exhilaration, 16k's of descent with an eye on the hairpins and wariness of the wind slicing through the trees.  Becoming braver as the decline decreased and picking the lines through the apexes with the wind whistling in the ears, I copped two strikes on magpie alley (Mirrimbah) but they were low risk terrorists.  Chuffed to complete the climb at a not so embarasing average was lapped up at a pronto pace to Merrijig, proving trepidation on elevation was speculation.

5/12  Tuesday tuition.

There was tuition for the legs Tuesday, spin switched to speed now that I was back on the flatlands, turning up to the 5:45 team of toil.  NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, KillkennyPaul, Tina and Sly were the only participants, several softening under the weight of their doonas I think.  3rd spot on the grid spared me from the first flogging, a chance to warm up while KillkennyPaul and Tina split the 1st leg duties.  My turn on leg 2 hurt, happy to have NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John along to crank compliantly so I could gobble up the lost oxygen.  Sly settled into the speed standard at the cypress trees and handed over to Tina at the S bend, but bugger!, I had the headwind in Boundary Rd!  Taking aim at the Broken bridges I'd successfully got up to speed only to have 2 oncoming trucks blast a draft of reality at me, pushing on punished I'd cleared the bridges so elbowed the handover for NewAvanti(not-OldAvanti-not-Merida)John, legs like jelly climbing aboard the caboose to be dragged to River Rd.  My own torment seemed tiny compared to KillkennyPaul's body language in the drivers seat, head nodding and cog swapping spelled spent within 100 meters.  Travis appeared in River Rd to join our quintet, up and over the bridge for Sly to finish off River Rd.  Tina and KillkennyPaul took us through Central Kialla post haste, my turn in Mitchell Rd whittling down the wattage.  Floodwaters forced us to steer north on Archer, the tailwind a bonus on limp legs, reaching the city limits (for want of a finish line) ahead of the Hares.  Holidays allowed a post ride cackle over cafeine at Kialla Lakes cafe with the Hares (Wozza, Rocket, Boof, ChrisA, Trav, Bruce CatCol, PistolPete and Nev), then a bolt homeward with Boof, Rocket and Wozz to empty the tank.

6/12 The ChaCha chase.

BamBam rose to the occasion of first turn to exit town on Wednesday morning, I chose to pair the pace with him at Kialla Lakes as Whispering Jack, SuperMario, Mel, Kenworth, Cate, Nick, Tina, Sean, TrekTrev, MyRideTrev, Boof and Chops lined up to follow. The forecast northeaster was contravened by a south southwester, making the push to Sanctuary's roundabout a tough one, to match Cate to the truck route needed the reserve tank.  Rocket, Wozza, CatCol and Grumpy entered from the early edition to share the workload (a slow segregation of drivers and survivors has happened in recent weeks, the strong starting early to tap out long and solid laps, the strained content to stick to the basic lap. I guess it's horses for courses. At least there's a lap to suit all).

 Whispering Jack's new aero profile is hard to recognise,  I had a chat with Chops, Mt Buller comparisons with SuperMario, questions of wind direction with others and River Rd was done before I knew it.  The Goat train of pain was popping out the pooped in Boundary Rd, Heady and Spartacus cast off way back to the Broken bridges in their pursuit for pace. The snap crackle and pop of gravel cautioned the corner into Channel Rd (Wozza on sweep strike?) as turns rolled quickly heading homeward, but the speed slowly settled as those seeking a calmer cadence reached the drivers seat.  MyRideTrev, Sean and SuperMario calmed the crew into Kinder corner, the steam of sprinters boiling up behind them as they pressed on to Hopeful corner.  BamBam bolted early, I waited for someone to chase but the clock ticked by as the gap opened wider. I set off in pursuit (Cate glued to my wheel) but it was way beyond Prentice Rd before I'd had a hint of BamBam's draft.  He was fading fast as I rounded him up, but the howl of wheels behind (CatCol) kept me cooking to the line. I'd conceded a tie for the honors but CatCol reckoned I had a wheel ahead, all I wanted was oxygen as my trophy for the next kilometer.

7/12  Aint' life a beach?
It's been many months since cranking the k's of Beach Rd, a week's leave gave me the chance to have the sea air up the nostrils and the super smooth tarmac under the Cosmics even though Melbourne's 10 degrees was fresh.

There were only a few addicts northbound to the city as big bunches steamed south, I warmed up in the first k's to a 160 bpm speed in the pursuit of some Strava success.  Luscious lycra distractions jogged the beachside tracks to distract from the distress of the inclines through Beaumaris, Black Rock and Sandringham, comfort cranking solo rather than sweating the habits of the unknown in bunches.  A quadrella of time trialing triathletes tore by, but otherwise I'd passed more than ones passed me.  Eventually leveled on the flats of Brighton and St.Kilda, a few cafe racers barged their way by (only to turn off at the next intersection....wtf?!) but I was happy to plug away to Port Melbourne, using the Tassie tub as a turn-around point.

A pic for posterity then steered on the same course back with a hint of breeze at the bum.  Keeping a mindset on Rule #38 (don't play leapfrog) as bunches formed to spear southward, I'd wound up solo by Elwood.  Pace was keen passing ones and twos, boosting the bravado to push a bit harder (suckered by Strava).  Traffic built for the working day, passing cars vacuuming my progress, a bolt up Ricketts Point hill cooked the calves but added another PB to the list (21).  Legs were slowly jellied being called to climb through Beaumaris and Black Rock again, but the road eventually evened out.  All too soon Mordialloc appeared to end the ride, a post crank caffiene then to battle peak hour back to base.

Week 49     237km          YTD  12,953km