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
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.
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.
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.
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