Week 8 : My holiday'd head

Post 436
17/2  Bunched in Ballarat.

Bunchless for a week was taking its toll (listening to myself was a dangerous disposition!) so an invite from SpecialisedStu to join the Ballarat Thinking Mans Bunch was a cycling saviour. A civilised start at 8am from Lake Wendouree had about 17 starters (PK, Greg, Alan, CanyonDave, Dean, H'Man, Jay, SpecialisedStu, Pete, Ray, Rob and Simon), course options settling on a 65k crank to the northwest of the shire.  In a break from their usual "split 'n roll through the middle", anti-clockwise turns were on the trial menu (suits me), sneaking through the city streets to set sights on Miners Rest.  Signals and calls were ship shape (messages get passed on too!) to put a newcomer at ease, steady in the low 30's making life comfortable too (if I were to keep up in the rolling hills)  

We worked toward Windermere and Weatherboard, a dozen giant wind turbines standing sentry on the hill.  Up to Addington and across to Coghills Creek, I was feeling the inability on the inclines, the locals chatting away undeterred while I was taking all the oxygen I could get.  A light breeze was being lapped up by the bunch normally blown to kingdom come, how appropriate as we whistled through Blowhard on the southern leg home. 

CanyonDave's classy on a matte mettalic green machine, Greg on a classic Cannondale (Saeco) and Simon (Wangaratta) almost my neighbour.  There was a pause at Miners Rest while a few tended to a puncture but back to the 'Rat was flat chat along Howe St, the tradition to fight for town lines alive and well here too. There was a little peloton policing on those straying into traffic space, but nearly all bunches are guilty of that.  Back via Wendouree's foreshore to Racers for caffiene and toast, amicable chat on rough and ripper roads, how turns roll and unwelcomed intriders rounded off a raptuous ride .   A minor mechanical annoyance (squeal from the freewheel hub bearing) was magnificently mended by Matt at CycleScape, merci mon ami!

18/2   Cirque du Creswick.

I was questioning sanity (again!) at 5:50 Sunday, slogging solitary on an unknown road to Clunes, the long and gradual descent from Crewsick almost the only thing keeping me from a u-turn.  Past Glendonald while it slept,  I arrived into historic Clunes surrounded by darkness, to face an uphill battle toward Turello (It's been hard to let go of the expectations of average speeds while I plug away at these inclines, but an added headwind shifted the goalposts) There was a picturesque panorama to picture at Ascot, the sun peeking above the bump of Forrest Hill on the eastern horizon while dodging a drenching from the broadacre sprinklers that kept the spuds hydrated. 

18k's on a gradual rise whittled down my average but at last Learmonth-Sulky Rd turned up to ease me eastbound. 
A left into Gillies Rd and an immediate right into Jubilee, the pinchy little rise making me friendly with ol'mate 38 ring. Rabbits ran riot crossing Boundary Rd where Jubilee ran out of tarmac, well compacted fine sand was bearable though the corrugated corners were cruel, only a kilometer to weave under the railway line to be back onto the terra firma of the Midland highway.  One more uphill to Cabbage Tree then a short reward of the descent to Creswick, 55k deserving a cafeine reward at the Bean & Barrow.  The ears didn't deserve the "gravel gremlins"  [cyclocrossers] blinguistics at the cafe table though!

19/2  The Great Ocean Ride.

A battle between pessimist and optimist raged as Anglesea's crashing waves and a 30 km/h south southeaster put up an arguement for the negative, but the affirmative of the Great Ocean Road lay just meters away, so seize the day I say!  Rule #9 ricochetted round the skull as I saddled up westward on this national heritage listed strip of black stuff, a couple of k's climbing out of Anglesea heated up the engine, the ocean's roar drowning out the Mavic music working toward Airey's Inlet.  There's a delicious little downhill then a short rise up to Fairhaven with barely a car about on a costal commute.
 
Past the extravagent holiday houses perched atop the cliffs and down to the fairly flat of Eastern View, wind whipping at the wheels to suggest I'd been trained by WobblyTrev.  The lazy level stuff soon changed to a challenge, Big Hill loomed to generate the gearchanges.  It's a testament to the returned WW1 soldiers that pick and shovelled a smooth course through the coastline almost 100 years ago, a 2000's super slick tarmac sweetening the significantly scenic experience.

Descending over the crest, I crossed paths with an ascending fellow cyclust, so reassuring it wasn't just me pedalling possessed at this hour!  Down the hill and within a few k's I was under Lorne's twinkling street lights, a pause for a pic at the swingbridge then about face for the 28k back.

A mob of motorhomes motored my way (a little alarming to see roadsigns recommending driving on the left in Australia!), the sun streaking through the clouds to set the sea scenic.  There's something a bit beneficial about the sea air up the nostrils and a head in holiday mode, up and over Big Hill and along the windswept ( SE @19-34 km/h)  coast, progress pleasantly pacy with the bait of Tony's short black at Anglesea's Laneway 73.


20/2  Torquing-up Torquay.
A longer, steeper climb east of Anglesea questioned my motivation toward Torquay Tuesday, the Virgo virtue hard to vanquish when the mind's made up. 

A nasty easterly (19-38 km/h) did it's best to blow me back down the hill but Baum and brawn eventually got me to the top at Forrest Rd for an almost level crank toward Bells Beach.  The rather generous bike lane was strewn with sticks and small branches to dodge, the Chocolaterie tugging at the handlebars too (just as well it wasn't open!).   Steering right into Bells Boulevard (more like Rollercoaster Rd!) downward in the fiftes and upward in single figures made it murder on the muscles.   Onto Bones then Bells Beach Rd, more ups and downs rattled the ratios but this is the medicine needed for 3Peaks only weeks away.   I'd gone full circle on the Bells roller coaster, onto the Great Ocean Rd again and back on track to torque up to Torquay, a dawning sun lighting the townships' target.  The surf coast was a good spot to about face (and pose a pic for posterity) with a slightly easier task to return (a big breeze from behind).   Several bike devotees were now out and about but my course was set to be solo, traffic building for those on a workday.   The long and steady slope upward finally finished at Eumeralla Camp, lapping up the decent descent into Anglesea to habitually halt for Tony's long black as a ride reward.

21/2  The coast with the most.

A chance to crank the coast with ex-pat Goats Spartacus and Cindy got me working west on Wednesday, that climb from Anglesea now familiar enough to tempt a trim of time. (Damn Strava and it's trophies!).  The drop to the small ring is getting practice perfect, keeping the rpm regular my only hope of getting to the crest.  The 13k's to Fairhaven was heaven with the wind weak as water, red led's ahead found to be Cindy and Spartacus. With Lorne as a target we three set sail filed single, one of those epic sunrises brewing behind. Through Eastern View and upward to Big Hill found Foss unfazed, familiarity a bonus knowing what's ahead.   Billiard table hot mix helped the haul up to Cinema Point, once unfamiliar cadence in the 80's now de rigeur to ride the rises.  Lorne's coastline spread out before us at Hendy Rd to tempt the tempo, head down and heartrate up into town, but a dazzler daybreak stopped me to snap this one.

Appeasing the (possibly pedantic) pier pic for Spartacus, we turned for home, feeling like a different day now that sun lit the landscape.  It was going to be hard to drag my holiday'd head from these vistas and face the flatlands of home, but the bunch dynamics have been sorely missed.  We berthed back at Onda in Fairhaven for espresso and a ramble on ratios and mastering mountains before I resumed my crank back to Anglesea, the harsh reality of the holiday's end starting to sink in.


23/2  Back to the flatlands family.
It felt odd to saddle up with the horizon as flat as the crap carters' hat but it was great to reunite with the Couldabeens crew back on home soil.  It was a warm grid (23 degrees) and a warm reception as TrekTrev, MyRideTrev, Nev, Kel, Bo, Shorty, KillkennyPaul, Car+Mel, Softa, Jen, PistolPete, CatCol, AvantiAndy, Tina, NewAvantiJohn, Bruce, Cate, Sean and Kenworth rolled in.  The six o'clock salvo struck and I'd landed the job of cutting the virgin air toward the Sanctuary roundabout, that 3k stretch seemed to have lengthened since I was away.  Longer lappers Trav, Rocket, The Godfather, Pelly, BamBam, Grumpy and Ralphy filled the ranks to 27, an easterly to push into made my earlier turn at the front seem circumspect.  Demoted gradually to the rear beame my social update with the clan, great to have KillkennyPaul returned from injury, many are on the improve but some still stagnate, The Godfather still handy with the verbal hammer, Ralphy holding up the Machines mantle but Jen was minus the lumens to roll through.  The bunch almost hit neutral half way along River Rd, someone keen to curtail the cruising speed already set?   Two long lines reached Rivers' end and belted into Boundary Rd, I'd almost forgotten the whiplash effect till 45 was needed to catch the tail.  Tommygun had u-turned and jumped onto our train, the light easterly set to build a bit of pace in Channel Rd.  My position was preparing for a toasting as Cate and I swung left at the Kinder, Bruce bolting by as I rolled across at Hopeful corner.  I was struggling to keep in Bruce's draft by Prentice Rd, though a glance behind found a lot of space behind us.  With perfect timing, Rocket wound up his wattage to claim the chocolates, I'd been rapidly relegated to the rear as most of the bunch breezed by.

Week 8          311km                 YTD  2,316km     

Week 7 : Egging-on the ego

Post 435
10/2  Satiated Saturday.
A prologue pedalled new ground to break the boredom of the same old same old, across the Causeway at 5 to Mooroopna and back via Watts Rd to start a Raftery Rd loop put some diversity into the distance. 

A spin down to Mitchell Rd and up Archer to intercept the Couldabeens crew, temperature tepid and wind worryless.  TatPaul, TatMat, BeerMat, Big Len, PistolPete, Wozza, MyRideTrev, TrekTrev, AvantiAndy, Boof, Bruce, DeterminedDan, Tommygun, SuperMario, Weapon, Sean and Rocket had just set off south setting the speed as I settled in to sit on SuperMario's wheel.  An earlier effort by Trav, Kel, CatCol, Bo, BamBam, Ralphy and ScottMatt had timed their arrival in leg 3 to perfection, blending aboard the bunch back.  Rottions stalled through Central Kialla but resumed rolling rapidly by River road's dip as the less fit found the front fatiguing.

Wozza's chuffed to be back aboard and on a new green machine by crikey (by Scott) and BeerMat's broken all records riding more this week than all year.  Lycra's translucence was the serious subject of sentences with Weapon, we figured a universal  and subtle signal or a key kind word needs to be adopted within the cycling world to discretely divulge the dilemma to an unwitting sufferer. Suggestions please! (if there's enough witty response to this significant subject, the best entry wins a copy of the 190 page bike bible, "Velominati-The Rules", beautifully illustrated with fantastic photos from the early TdeF etc.  Seriously, post your response).
 


Belly joined in at Channel Rd (doing a daily double for distance),
I got my time at the front (finally) at Hosie Rd, half-wheeled by Bo (his standard sit) to the fig farm, the rudeness repeated by BigLen (strangely), but it didn't fuss Foss, but it does dangle debate on that driving dilemma ; who does set the speed standard? The one already at the rushin' front or the one just arriving? The younger or older? Do the rapid relent or the harried hurry? It's a bit chicken or the egg isn't it? Refer Rule #86 peeps.....

Cats steered south as we nosed north to the Big Ring, a posse of pussycats plying their way prior to Dookie and it's hills, kidnapping Cate and Tina to hang out in them thar hills. The sun finally got up as we got down to business in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, questioning the speed proved to be unfounded, vacuumed along by two dozen made 40 on Ford elementary.
The gap that opened in the down line was too tempting as we streaked into suburbia, sprinterest was sparse for me, so I tucked in for a tow. 
Traffic split the squad at Numurkah Rd, the frontrunners respectfully waiting for an all in charge at Mt. Wanganui.  Bruce bolted at DECA and drew the pack Indian file, Pistol and others toasted at the tempo on their turns. Wozza's wattage wasn't waning, a credible third to Boof's blistering blast at the hill.  The calm to collect the crew was short, the bunch barrelling along the Boulevard on a mission of motion to breakfast (several scoring Strava success)  So many diets, the ruination of reality tv, calamatous careers and exit strategies tattled across the Lemontree table, the sociology hard to escape as a weekend and two weeks leave beckoned me away.

12/2  Mounting the mount.

A few hills to Harcourt was a heart starter from Castemaine, holidays taking Foss to foreign fields, far from the flatlands .  I cranked a few more cool k's north (funnily enough to Harcourt North!), then turned east to the bait of Mt Alexander (like Mr Hillary, 'cause it's there).  
Along Harcourt-Sutton Grange Rd with an apple orchard aroma overload, steering to the serious stuff of Joseph Young Drive got me questioning my motivation.  Six per cent soon shifted to eight, the road thinning as it rose.  A few k's more had the legs burning and lungs busting, ready for the tarmac to turn to eleven per cent.  "Big Red" was hammering the headspace to quit, skippies had asssembled at the roadside for breakfast and the sun streamed through the trees.

 
The 10 degree temperature was in contrast to previous weeks, the heater of hillclimbing kept the old engine warm though.  Telecomunications towers pinpointed the peak, that growling bear following me again till the peak's sweetness.  There was a holiday for the heart on the downhill but a wary eye needed for wildlife, the road winding downward through the vineyards to Faraday.  Gearchanging re-started southbound on the old Calder Highway, a few k's uphill to earn the pleasure of a long descent to Elphingstone.  Turning onto the Pyrenees for a short pinch upward and westward, then the dreamy downhill 8k's back to Castlemaine, whistling through historic Chewton, choosing the caffiene conclusion of Saffs for a long black.






13/2  Circling Castlemaine.

The lure of Fogarty's Gap drew me to Harcourt North (again), that short sharp ascent a challenge since nearly breaking me 18 months ago.  Down on the 38/25 and up on the effort, the brief 600 meter masacre (13%) turned into a PB, helping the head as the lungs recovered on a long roll down to Walmer (an intersection, a house and an abandoned caravan)  A few smaller inclines reminded the legs of the prior punishment, eventually reaching the Lockwood road to point south to Maldon. Few had stirred as I rolled through Australia's first notable town (1856), a bonus gradual downhill toward Welshmans Reef egging-on the ego, super smooth tarmac a treat on the sit site. But, with each decline comes another rise, more work to do toward Newstead, though the sun streaked scenery of Mt.Alexanders' shire (all the way to Mt.Macedon) made the work worthwhile.

A turn east onto the Pyrenees at Newstead started the ups and downs again, I've done more gearchanges in the past three months than the past three years!  16k's through Green Gully and Muckleford South were spent getting over less than 35 km/h averages, thoughts of the Das Kaffeehaus finish line prodding the pace.




14/2  Where the hell's Glenluce?

Off at 6 to explore new territories (again), south from Castlemaine to the half dozen houses that make up Yapeen.  Off the Daylesford Rd and onto the rises and falls that are Vaughan Springs Rd, disturbing the 'roos and wallabies as I huffed and puffed the inclines and swapped the ratios. There was a bit of detective work to find the right roads, past Vaughan's historical "boot hill" and right onto the Drummond-Vaughan Forrest Rd ( more ups and downs than a toilet seat in a mixed school!). The quick descent into Glenluce suddenly found a timber bridge ready to make a meal of my Mavic's, by luck I made it over upright. 

5k's onward the road ran out of tarmac and turned to loose gravel,  not the stuff for 23mm Michelins @ 125 psi.  An about face (and abandoning the course set for Malmsbury) I retraced and steered to Irishtown and Fryerstown, a skinny but peaceful 17k length of road winding through 1860's gold diggings country.

There were more ups and downs, although the old legs seemed to cope (but it was hardly the Koppenberg!), the thin strip snaked past patches of history to finally descend into Chewton, a west northwester building quickly to a 35 km/h blast, another promised prize of a Das Kaffeehaus finish helped the hurry homeward.



16/2  Mollongghip masochism.

Yet another voyage of discovery to keep in tune on holidays, this time from Creswick.  Aiming at oddly titled townships, for want of a better course, an afternoon ride was a treat in twenty degrees (though hard to get used to all that daylight!)  There was a heart starter climbing to Springmount to loosen legs, up onto almost level ground at Newlyn felt almost like home. Taking Telegraph Rd east found Mt. Prospect, but I steered south toward Rocklyn, potato fields and rolling hills to view as a south southwester blew at the brow (why should I get it easy climbing hills?) The road rose up and up at Mollongghip, steadily for a couple of k's till a pinchy final 200 meters as masochism for muscles. There were gasps and groans to the crest but the view was worth the workout, a distant Mt Buningyong the big bump on the horizon.

A rough and thin tarmac strip dropped down to Bullarook, west to Pootilla (3 houses and 3,000,000 potatoes) then north on another long slow climb to Clarkes Hill was enough to erase the energy ego (what a contrast to the long smooth downhill to Dean).  I was hammered homeward on the Creswick-Dean Rd, the bumpy bitumen brutal on the backside, so the slick strip of Melbourne Rd was a fitting finale to return to Creswick, downhill with a tailwind just can't be beat!.

Week 7      262 km              YTD 2,005 km

  

Week 6 : The classic cure for cockiness

Post 434
3/2  In-Saturday-somnia
Eyes wide open in the early hours mapped a course less travelled for a Saturday prologue, sleep escaped me so k's were the cure.  Hitting the Garmin go at 4:51, I worked west for the sake of change to Mooroopna and beyond.  Don't you just love the serenity of a deserted road? I made my moonlit way to an arid Ardmona, at one with the bike but at odds with the breeze while southbound to the Midland highway (What a sook! 13km/h was hardly a typhoon!) The unknown distance to the standard Saturday startline got me a wriggle-on, east back to Mooroopna with red leds ahead figured to be TeamTat on the Couldabeens commute.

Watt Rd took me through the Broken River bushland to Kialla, back to suburbia to zig zag the streets to time a grid berth at 5:56.  SuperMario, TatMat, Boof, Rocket, BeerMat, Kel, Shorty, DeterminedDan, Tina, PistolPete, Liam, Grumpy, Softa, TatPaul, NewAvantiJohn, Trav, Travis, Sean, Bruce, Bo, CatCol and PvanP made up a swollen Saturday squad, Rocket rolled the train respectfully out of town, a bit of a breeze forgotten as the "chaturday" ritual captured the concentration ;


Shorty's back from leave, TatMat's tuned up from the Alpine Classic, DeterminedDan's delighted to be off night shift, BeerMat's on the bike in the morning to justify beer in the afternoon and CatCol's climatising from a Gold Coast get-away.  River Rd done and north toward Old Dookie, two roo's were toe to toe in a kick-boxing biffo in the paddock as we neared the Broken bridge.
I'd finally fronted the bunch at the fig farm to pair with BeerMat, then an easterly effort with TatMat as the pungent piggery perfume punished our nostrils.

Heading home on Lemnos-Cosgrove and buoyed by the breeze behind, we'd collected a cruising Cougar into the crew, social sentences swapping at speed as the Wanganui worries drew slowly closer (looking like I'd get the tempo task at the testing time) .  Concentration skewed with the slightly squeamish sight of lycra stretched beyond it's structual integrity (name witheld to evade embarrassment), a subtle sizing statement needed to broach a delicate derriere dilema!  Over Numurkah Rd the wheels worked double time, turns rolling rapidly saved me from being hung out to dry.  Shorty got gapped as the big guns fired off to the hill (two weeks hols has tainted his tempo) so I advanced to plug the gap, just in time to catch the regroup in Rudd Rd.  A calmer cruise along the Boulevard balanced the breathing for breakfast, the long table at the Lemontree discussing rules of marriage, team rules and Fb housekeeping.



4/2  Eat, sleep, ride, repeat.
The track less travelled again captured thoughts as Sunday's eyes opened, 15 degrees and calm had an irresistable invite to tour.  A crank to Congupna and beyond on an empty highway emptied thoughts, finding 12 k's longer than expected to reach Lemnos North Rd.  Was it uphill or was a breeze at the brow? (the sook inside struggled southbound)  Past Jubilee and Congupna East Rd, a kink past Jenkins and Farrell, then due south again, 12 more k's to reach New Dookie to turn west back to town to tally 30.  In the craving for k's, part 2 was pedalled partnered by Weapon, frankly philosophising on all matters of bike business with a calous disregard for speed, cadence, average or heart-rate, 25k done distress-lessly, the real focus on Lemontree breakfast as a post ride aperitif.

5/2 Moovin' it Monday.

Feeling the force of a fresh southwester to the Couldabeens carpark on Monday hurried the heart rate, yet stopping at the traffic lights the air was as calm as ChrisA......go figure Foss!  CatCol, Rocket, Kel, NewAvantiJohn, The Godfather, Sean, Bo, PistolPete, Tina, MyRideTrev, Nev and Lucy put popularity into the peloton, Sean and I starting the chuffing out Channel Rd (careful not to make his maiden Monday a masacre.  Rocket reported a rider rearwardin pursuit, so a calmer cadence carried on for the ChaCha. Darkness has engulfed half the mornings' lap so quickly, a repite April 1st when daylight savings finishes, but it'll descend to darkness again quickly)  It felt easier northbound in Boundary (bureau said calm), a 14 degree dew point carpeting fog in the paddocks.
Over New Dookie Rd, and dodging the rumble strips (to warn of a rail line that's no longer used), I'd started the mental preparation of another turn, MyRideTrev taming the tempo as he held the helm in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.

Sean put in a good turn to Lemnos North Rd, Bruce with the bit between his teeth was moovin' it in Ford Rd, measuring my masochism in the high 30's for 2700 meters while I over-rode the messages of murder from the muscles (kudos eased the mental pain but the legs were none too happy till repose came in the draft.  Lucy's class in the Couldabeens kit, The Godfather was keeping a birthday under wraps, Rocket rolling at a mere idle while CatCol and I conferred on the chase of the late to bridge the bunch.  Several were itching for a Wanganui sprint but a calm was called to keep one ride in the week sprintless.

6/2 Machines reborn.
A hurtle with the Hares was in my headspace for Tuesdays assembly, but surprise surprise, the Machines have risen reborn!  Grumpy. BamBam, Pelly, Tina, BeerMat, Shorty, SuperMario, Trav and Ralphy had turned up for torture, inspiring an early exit to kick start the old 5:45 vs 5:50 pursuit.  BamBam seems to think it's my duty to drive first, so I took the turn to Mozart Ave, pleased with the speed but hassled by hurt.  The long wait for the tail meant reasonable recovery time, a chance to see how others were tolerating the tempo.

Ralphy ripped into his turn (trying to break bits off the back?), Grumpy's a frequent flyer, Trav started strong but soon subsided, Shorty and SuperMario doing determined drives as relative newcomers to the Tuesday thrash.  Pelly let loose into Boundary Rd and despite the gusts from oncoming trucks, blasted to the Broken bridges where he elbowed my turn.  A hint of descent off the bridge tipped me into the forties, content the old engine did ok to One Tree Dam. BeerMat took over as I retreated to the rear for recovery, called into second last spot by an unknown hitch-hiker we'd collected on the circuit.  Thumbs up to Shorty and SuperMario having another turn of toil, Grumpy and Ralphy still turning up the heat and Tina flying the fast femme flag as always.  I'd been well rested for River Rd, Pelly and I going halves in the hurt southbound through Central Kialla.  Mitchell Rd blurred by but traffic halted us at the highway (cue heaps o' huff and puff)  The scenario seemed sweet as we galloped to Galbraith Gate, I'd get another go at the pointy end, tuck in for the tow, recover for a k and be fit and fast for the finish.  Pelly drove to the horse stud and did the handover, I powered on to Arcadia Downs and about to elbow BeerMat's turn when a small bump suddenly made a Michelin mushy, the bane of the bindii befell me to withdraw punctured.   Ten sets of wheels howled on northward as I slowed to halt for repairs, a pink sunrise for company and a mass of molesting mosquitos to assist a sweaty repair. (there's a Tuesday Thursday understanding of all hurry and no halt, Rule #83 over-rules #84 on this occassion only)    Almost done and the Hares hurried by, my calm crank back to town had a Weapon welcome as a kind consolation.

7/2 G'day girls.

It had been long-time-no-see Car+Mel and Cate en-route to Wednesday circuit of sociology, the car park filling with the usual peloton protagonists ; Sean, Whispering Jack, MyRideTrev, Nick, Shorty, SuperMario, Goose, Kenworth, Tina and CatCol.  I was happy to head the crew south, blow me down,  BeerMat partnered me at the city limits (that's 3 rides in a row for BeerMat!).  An expanded early express (Rocket, Bo, Kel, Grumpy, BamBam, Trav, NewAvantiJohn, PistolPete and Ralphy) had already clockwised the circuit, u-turning to join us for leg 3, two dozen now to share the endurance of an easterly (15-22 km/h) on our varied velocity to Boundary Rd.

Car+Mel and Cate cranked their contributions like they'd never been away, I hit the helm haplessly half-wheeled by WhisperingJack (logged in the cranial cavity for future reference) There was a 6.7 on the whiplash scale as we entered Boundary Rd, but speed soon settled to sociable as the sun snuck above the horizon.
Stress went down and speed went up with the wind behind in Channel Rd and I put some hurry into the heart rates for turn three at the bend at Beckham.  I'd almost reached the back of the bunch as we hastened to Hopeful corner, the cream had risen to the top as we pointed to Prentice Rd, the pack perforating under the pace.  I tagged onto Bo as he bolted to bridge the gap, 55 km/h barely enough to reach midfield.

 

8/2  The Hare conditioner.
There was a blending of the bunches on Thursday, Machines and Hares opting for a combined 5:50 launch.  Nev, Kel, Rocket, PistolPete, CatCol, PvanP, Bo, Trav, Liam, Grumpy, Travis, Tina, Boof and ChrisA strung a long line east, I'd berthed a bit beyond my league with the wattage of Nev and Rocket ahead and Bo behind, but I guess a little Hare conditioner will harden the heart (or Hiroshima it!)  My contribution came at Orrvale Rd, flat out at the ChaCha till the stinging said stop.  Tina and Kel called me in as we swung into Hopeful corner, the respite rather rigorous as Bo bolted into Central Ave.  Others tested their mettle on motion toward Boundary Rd, my focus fixed on the fourteen cog Rocket rode the chain on (any distraction from the distress!)  Travis drove his (new) flash Focus fast, young Liam setting the super smooth speed standard for half of River Road's length allowed the heart rate to settle at 140 (after we'd chicane'd a roadside busted branch).  Shifts shortened (in comparison) for the rest of River, but Nev kidnapped the captaincy of Mitchell Rd dialling up the roaring 40's (to foster fitness?)  An empty highway gave us a quick cross, my effort escalating at 3rd wheel under the specter of speed. 

Nev went full gas into Raftery's bridge bend, stretching friendships, finally handing the helm to Rocket at Roubaix corner.  His elbow exacerbated my energy expectations to take the drivers seat at Galbraiths Gate, suddenly silence from the cacophony of crucified carbon and just my Michelin music to gasp to.  43 was a fair flog for Foss (though the view was going fuzzy at the edges) but burning legs and the rising heart rate hinted the end was near.  I handed-over to Bo and tried to time catching the caboose as real horsepower hit hard into Conrod straight, but that was asking a lot of labored legs.  Kel called "in" (but I was givin' her all she's got captain!), running on empty to grab the last wheel had me in more trouble than selling a full filing cabinet!  With 300 left, my mental rope broke, I couldn't over-ride the suffering signals and went unceremonially ota.  Dissapointing in a way, but a classic cure for cockiness we all need take at times.  (rolling in last with a 41.2 average was some recompense)

8/2  Friday's friendly.

I had a relaxed roll to Friday's friendly, there'd be no tempo torture today.......well, not until the end!  SuperMario, Jen, Kenworth, Shorty, Sean, Pistol, Car+Mel, ScottMatt, Cate, MyRideTrev, Trav and Boof converged casually at the carpark, Nev's arrival cueing 6am.  SuperMario was on captains duty by default of first to berth, I took pity at his turmoil into a hint of a headwind and paired with him to the roundabout as Kel, Bo and Weapon blended into the bunch.
 
Earlybirds Grumpy, Rocket, BamBam, Bruce, CatCol and NewAvantiJohn joined in the sociology southward on leg 3, plenty of chat in the pack for the working week's end. We swung into River Rd crossing paths with the fading field of the Hurt Locker, Hoges up ahead at River's bridge making a rare appearance to bring our bunch up to two dozen.  Shorty sat out the lap on the back, BamBam in a new kit (not quite the PistolPete panache), Jen welcomed back from a brief break as Weapon & I chatted on the wheel of choice to draft. The Goat's train of pain is in vain  (invisible), a light breeze blowing us north to Channel Rd.  My position in the peloton predicted a placing at the pointy end when pace percolated (luck of the draw I guess), SuperMario and Hoges captaining Kinder corner as I pondered the sprint scenario.  A standard squirt would see me swiftly swamped by the rapid lads (and lasses!), so my presumptuous plan was flat chat to the ChaCha to spur on (and spice up) the sprint.  Plenty of cadence got the party started and, ignoring the harsh reality of the Garmin screen, I emptied the tank 200 short of the line.  Trav had stalled alongside my rear wheel but Boof, Grumpy, Hoges and co bolted for bragging rights, I'd at least made them hurry for the honours.

Week 6      333km            YTD 1,743km   

Week 5 : Sitting in the suffer seat

Post 433
27/1  A windy workout.

With legs like licorice the day after hammering 'em up Hotham, a ginger and gentle roll to Saturday's start line was circumspect.  More wind than a bag full of dim-sims (an easterly at 25 km/h) had frightened a few away, the public holiday long weekend to blame too for culling the Couldabeens down to Rocket, Liam, Boof, ScottMatt, Bruce, Weapon, TrekTrev and Ballarat visitor SpecialisedStu at the carpark.....there'd be turns aplenty today.

Boof and Bruce got down to business spearing south to the roundabout, a northbound Vince u-turning hard on the gas to join us for the circuit. My lax lengths of licorice lamented a turn at the pointy end but rule #5 and the all-for-one philosophy forced me forward for a contribution.  Rocket was courteous and Liam was kind, a 3/4 go in River Rd was all the legs would allow into the heartache of a headwind.  TrekTrev and Weapon were content in the caboose, the idea appealing for me for the rest of River Rd to sit for a bit. The effort eased in Boundary Rd with the wind at the starboard bow, MyRideTrev joining in from Channel Rd after missing the earlier train.

I did my bit again from the Fig Farm and tucked in to SpecialisedStu's tow for the headwind to the Toaster.  Unseen (and always unwelcomed) for many years, StinkyFord made a surprise appearance at the rail line, sensibly (though uninvited) sitting-on at the rear and not creating chaos in the rotations  (saved him being promoted to the tabledrain!)
BamBam turned up as we neared Boundary Rd, our previous effort had turned to elation with Garmins in the 40's and the wind at our backs, a puddle or two to fouled bikes and sullied kits as the bunch bored toward town. 
StinkyFord had gone OTA as we swept into suburbia, Rocket on lead-out duties (again) as sprint business came up in Wanganui Rd.  Two rows narrowed to one at DECA, BamBam lost the wheel as the sprinters stretched the squad longer, so I plugged the gap to Mt.Wanganui trying to keep a dozen together.  Jetjas was a foreign breakfast stop (Lemontree on leave) but the food was fair as jaws jabbered on cranking new territory, the sugar evil and why riding is the great social leveler.

29/1  Bay blown.

A trip to the big smoke begged bringing the Baum for a battle on Beach Rd, the track now familiar but a steamy summers' morning (30 degrees at 6am) and a nasty northerly (25-37 km/h) was out of suburban sorts.  Climate had reduced riders down to the die hard, most on the southerly spin with just a handful hammering the headwind north.
Up through Beaumaris, Black Rock and Hampton with head down and heart rate up, inspiration was only for the tail wind back, so I averted eyes from an ordinary speed and kept concentration on cadence to climb the wee inclines (headwind uphill 'aint fair Mum!) Brighton's posh architecture shielded some of the breeze to pick up the pace, a bunch of 6 catching me as the traffic lights induced interval training.  Through Elwood and St.Kilda as the sun bounced off the CBD's chrome and glass, sea air up the nostrils drove me the next 8k's to Port Melbourne.  Euphoria to u-turn and have the wind up the tail, 40's were fortuitous southbound, rounding up plenty tamely tapping the tarmac. TT.Tom (Giant) jumped on for a tow back to Brighton, appreciative I'd got him to work ahead of agenda, but the track thereafter was solo with the odd rise ripping into the reserves.   By Black Rock rubber legs had returned, the wind swirling off the bay to punish any pace, I kept the legs burning in the hope of some Strava success as I emptied the tank back to Mordialloc (40 trophies a happy haul).

31/1  Wednesday's windy woes.

A stiff southerly sorted the serious from the soft on Wednesday, an enthused early edition evaporated (Grumpy and Ralphy, the kings of commitment, collapsed) so my southbound solo at 5:15 spun silently (though I labored loud) into the headwind to reach Mitchell, keeping the cadence cooking helped progress.  I reached Archer Rd just in time to partner (try to keep up more like it!) PistolPete to town.  Only the tough had turned up at the car park (Nev, Boof, Rocket, Sean, Kenworth, Tina, Trav, The Godfather and Lucy) though some had sneakily circled the streets to avoid the first berth.  Pistol provided the tow out of town, the headwind no hassle with his horsepower.  There were few facing the front till the change of direction in Mitchell Rd made it more attractive.  Weapon appeared in River Rd, the speed on the up and up as the faster fronted the bunch.  6k's slipped by swiftly, the happy hum of tyres on tarmac in Boundary Rd as the breeze blew us north to Channel Rd.  Orchards shielded the west way homeward, Tina and The Godfather turned up the wick to Central Ave, I had the job cranking into Kinder corner but Sean got the short straw matching Pistol's pace to Hopeful corner.  He dug deep to get to the front but the gasket blew just a few meters later.  The bunch blasted by as Boof, Nev and Rocket pounded the pedals for the ChaCha bragging rights, then the collective cruise back to the suburbs as the sun slowly made it's presence felt.

1/2  Hare style.
With most machines mimicking marshmallow, a (masochistic) merge with the Hares was measured as manageable (?)   Tum, Tina and Lucy had the fortitude to front, filtering in with Rocket, Trav, Nev, Boof, Kel and Bo (9 degrees a wintery welcome back from the Gold Coast) and Pistol Pete.

Traffic shuffled the exit order to put me in the drivers seat, mushing myself to Mozart Ave.  Tina and Lucy sat back in the cringe carriage as I slipped into Boof's slipstream, Tum, Kel and Nev pouring pain into the pace toward Boundary Rd.  A slight southerly (11-17 km/h) hassled my headspace, the breeze not so bad when Boof beckoned me to face the front at the Broken bridges.

 Distance whittled down my will at 40 clicks, not quite to One Tree Dam when my cranium ran out of commitment.  Legs went as slack as Softa when Tina called me in to Boof's tow, keeping the caboose connected kept my priority on pace.  All of River Rd was spent psyching up for my next sit in the suffer seat, more hurt into the headwind in Central Kialla (earning an earful of echelon effervescence from Nev)   Into Mitchell Rd, reality relegated me to the rear ranks as the tempo turned toasty, though the gatekeepers role soaking up the surges of turns sharpened the wits.  Over Melbourne Rd we were homing in on five FDC's rounding Roubaix (Bruce, Pelly, BamBam, Ralphy and good grief! Ozzy!), passing them as Rocket powered to Galbraiths Gate.  The bitumen blurred as the fast four (Boof, Nev, Rocket and PistolPete) forged forward, retirements became more popular than chamois cream on a 300k ride, my determination being dug from new depths to stay aboard, so Foss's fourth was a fair finale at the finish line.

2/2  Friday's fresh frolic.

Four minutes to Fridays' launch and the carpark was all but empty.....several slinking in at the last moment (for the guaranteed tow?)  Six bells struck, so I took the helm into the headwind for the long leg one, thoughts bouncing around the cranial cavity (I can do this) as I tactfully turned up the tempo (am I going that slow?)  Eventually up to speed but heading up a rise (that hurts!) to exit town, the second line formed (Damn! Gotta match Boof!), and the roundabout was still a world away (I'm gunna give these wheelsuckers hell!)   Only to Hoopers Rd and the legs labored (dig deeper!), heart rate was on an escalator but the roundabout finally came into blurry view (I want my mummy!).  With just enough to catch Boof's wheel as he rolled over (cue gluttony of oxygen) I slowly settled into sociability, the early edition arriving in leg 3.   In a deja vu of Wednesday, the wind blew us to River Rd in a wintery 12 degrees, Hurt Locker cranked into Central Kialla and Weapon jumped on to join us.

Grins as The Godfather guffawed his greetings to '51, the Cruisers and Cats when we crossed paths, self swapping sentences with Sean, NewAvantiJohn, Kel, Trav, Bo, ScottMatt, Kenworth, BamBam, Pelly, Grumpy, Rocket, Bruce and PistolPete as the circuit unfolded.  Excitement brewed from Channel Rd's S bend for a chance at the ChaCha, PistolPete with the workload to fill a big gap as two advancing quickly retreated to the down line at Kinder corner.  Almost the full field had a thrash at the pointy end by Prentice Rd, Sean at full steam, but he arrived at the front 100 meters too early to be effective.  Boof wound up the 13 cog to put all behind him, I was picking off the expired and hopeful of second spot, but Kel ducked out from my draft to snatch silver.

Week 5    229 km          YTD 1,410