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