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
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.
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.
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).
No comments:
Post a Comment