Week43 : The attitude for altitude.

Post #470
20/10 Drizzle dodgers.

Green scattered across the bureau's radar didn't deter the die-hard Saturday crew, despite a spit or to from the heavens the car park filled for the 6am flag fall, and caught up in conversation, I'd missed most of the arrivals.  Boof, Wozza and Rocket squeezed the gas gently to exit town, caution with the velocity less we poke the bear in the caboose (and nobody dared to make eye contact just in case!) TatMat joined from Kialla Lakes Drive as, cranking on eggshells, the bunch gradually built to Couldabeens cruising speed, the keen moving up and the wary waiting for the natural progression to head the hurry. Bruce, The Godfather, PistolPete, Kreeky and Lance advanced for driving duty, Tina, Shorty, Cate, Nev, Superman and MyRideTrev were pleased to be promoted later while Bo, TatMat and Temple were happy to hang onto the rear. Seems the back was bear-free, so no sting in the tail after all!  Wind whipped from the north west to slowly swing west, then south west just to keep us guessing, my fingers crossed I didn't get the head wind when it was my turn in the drivers seat.

 Gradually promoted forward in River Rd, my turn was blessed with a boost from behind in Boundary Rd, a short turn beside Cate then up to Channel Rd with Boof nudged the 40's, Rocket, Wozza and Pistol adding to the huff and puff toward Old Dookie Rd.  Lance and Superman were doubting their position of promotion in the advance line but the tempo tamed turning toward the Toaster.  TatMat bid his adieu's at the Pine Lodge Church and turned bound for Bright, just a casual little 218km ride for a brew! (he maybe monickered MachineMat from now on)  The wind had swung west to work us over for the long length of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the Cat count down to single figures as we put heads down for duty west.

I'd progressed to the pointy end again, though partners Cate and Boof were sympathetic on the speed, rear seats filling fast in Ford Rd as PistolPete, Wozza, Bruce, not-so-newAvantiJohn and Rocket lined up as team tempo, messing with the mindsets of those considering facing the front.  Closer to town the pace settled, so I joined the volunteers to share the load,  but dark grey curtains of rain were veiling Wanganui Rd, so the call to escape the damp via Verney Rd got the seal of approval.  As if to justify our breakfast, the wind blew harder than a bag full of dim sims all the way to the Lemontree, but coffee and eggs on toast cured the convulsions, chat on emptying the nest, future bike weekends and fixing Garmin bayonets added to the atmosphere.

22/10  The wild, wild west (of Wyalong)

Holidays took me to mid New South Wales and roads not travelled, awakening an adventurous animal in me.  West Wyalong, surrounded by nothing, offers no circuits or laps, just long radiating highways to travel, so I worked west on the aptly named Mid Western highway at 6.  With a keen eye open for kangaroos at dawn, there was only the dead ones seen (or smelled) but a young fox did have a puzzled peer at an old fossil on two wheels.  Gentle rises and falls in elevation caught this flat-lander puffing into zone 4 quickly, the truck traffic has tortured the tarmac and its' 20 mm stone, pounding the posterior beyond the titanium frame's flexibility.

Vast plains of dry land offer little visual variety but the peace on a deserted highway as the sun struggled to make an appearance was refreshing.  All roads leading off the highway were of Dookie-red dirt, so the plan was to work west for 45 minutes then about face back to base.  On and on the grey strip stretched, Hay only a short 230km away, Adelaide just 655km further! (TatMat may have tried it?)  It's hard to cope seeing 28 km/h and falling as the road rises, a sense on inadequacy hard to supress when a downhill boost to the ego seems so far further away.  6:45 arrived and I climbed one more rise for the hell of it (no, not really, I wanted a downhill start for the return trip!) The sun was up to warm the spirits (10 degrees), just three trucks passing with professional respect I've almost become used to (keeping very visible and safely to the left courts courtesy I reckon)  Legs were feeling dead with all this incline insanity, thank heavens the downhills deliver a distraction to the distress.  The k's counted down to coffee (that's what was motivating the mindset) and before I'd returned to West Wyalong (how smooth the main street is!), 55km not surprisingly starved of Strava segments (but I suffered 402 worth).  Coffee was rather ordinary, but there's hardly a caffeine culture out this way.

23/10 Conquering Canobolas.
Orange was the base camp for a few days furlow and some crazy cranial conniption saw Mount Canobolas as a quest.  West of Orange on the Cargo Rd, larger rises and falls (than yesterday's West Wyalong bumps)  hardened up the attitude for altitude to Nashdale, turning south on the Lake Canobolas Rd (a skinny grey strip of tarmac that had patches on the patches on the pot-holes), weaving through the vineyards of the countless wineries here (HG territory?)
Past the picturesque lake and on to Towac, the wheels thumped and crashed through the Roubaix-like curves to finally reach the Mt. Canobolas Rd.  The tarmac thinned more and rose sharply (10%) as a real leg labourer for the first two k's, flashes of Rosella's colours and the odd wallaby bounding off into the bushland serving as some distraction,  but eyes were on the continuing pot-holes and patches that threatened to break traction.  I'd reached Watt's lookout where the incline eased, a chance to drag the heart back from 177 bpm as I'd guessed more ups were to come (the tips of the TV towers still well above me)

A little level ground for a kilometre or so helped till the road forked at the old mountain road to sharply rise again for part two of the torment.  1.5km at 14% brought me into company with that growling bear, dipping to 5 km/h in places with no more cogs to grab.

I wrestled with the conscience trying to call it quits a few times, but sheer pig-headedness drove me on, surely the next corner was the last....nope, the next one....oh really? the next? You have to be kidding! One more bend, and the sight of the TV towers brought a strange relief,  a final 100 meters on rubber legs and an empty tank and Canobolas was conquered.
I hobbled a few steps around the top to calm the cramps (and a pic for posterity) before I set off on a tip-toed descent, trying to recall to worst of the patches and holes to avoid.  A pause half way down to view the vista to the east at Watts lookout, then gingerly down the last two k's to the base.  I diverted via the Canobolas township to change the view back to Orange (and get relief from the rough stuff), legs happy to cope with the few sharp inclines (but nothing like 14%) through more vineyards and apple orchards to return to Orange for a luscious long black and banana bread bliss (straight out of the oven) at The Burrow.

24/10  How green is Orange!

Vexed for variety, I steered east on the Mitchell Highway Tuesday, a course via Lucknow and Shadforth to then bear south to Millthorpe.  The Michelin's hummed on hotmix as smooth as Pistol Pete's panache, long and gradual gradients an inviting introduction to the rolling green hills of the Central West.  Plenty of commuting traffic passed, a decent shoulder to the road reassuring, then tranquillity turning south onto Millthorpe Rd (although the breeze at the brow slowed ascents further).  With lots of green left, right and to the horizon, I plugged away on the 8km to Millthorpe, hopes of a respectable speed when the road levelled banished by the breeze.  Uncertain of the roads south, I about faced in the historical village, the tailwind lifting spirits toward Spring Hill.  Whiley Road is pounding patchwork of bitumen, brutal on the backside, several unpatched holes setting steering skills a test all the way through town and into Forrest Rd.  Past the airport and on to Spring Terrace, kangaroo road kill was multiplying, at least the road was gradually swinging north where I could benefit from the breeze behind.  Through Springside and Spring Creek (village names are no-brainers in these parts!) I drew closer to Orange, road surfaces improving as the k's counted down.  (Ooops! spoke too soon, roadworks at the city limits)

25/10  The Orange oracular.

Attempting to find a bunch ride at Sir Jack Brabham park found the carpark empty, so a backup circuit solo on Huntley Rd was substituted.  The tarmac was a little kinder, the gradual climbs I don't think I'll ever get climatize to.  Wind worked me over to the airport and down to Spring Hill, but the turn south to Millthorpe eased the effort.  A lot of 1860's Millthorpe remains so I kept my distance from the bluestone cobbles, turning east on Vittoria Street and climbed the hump, the town had vanished so it was just me and the headwind uphill and down (unfair on both counts) for several k's. 

Reaching Pretty Plains Rd pointed me back to the Mitchell highway with a couple of sharp rises thrown in, employing the 38 ring again (but the lure of the highway's heavenly hot-mix and a tailwind to boot was the bonus back).  Traffic thickened for the 8-8:30 working classes (ha, ha! I'm on holiday!), back through Shadforth and Lucknow delighting in the downhills and even helped uphill by the wind. Deliberating coffee into the outskirts of Orange, a malevolent magpie struck repetitively, even clawing at my ear to spur some speed, so it was flat chat for a flat white and the bliss of banana bread for post ride recovery.

26/10  Banjo country.

With no sign of bikes at the Orange meeting point, Friday's ride was another solo affair.  A course toward Ophir was a northerly tour of discovery, more of the uphill and down dale to exorcise the flat-lander in me!  The breeze was bracing at 6 degrees till the uphill heater cooked legs and raised a sweat for the few k's to Narrambla,  passing Banjo Patterson's birthplace.  The 38 chainring has had more use in the last week than the whole year, getting legs and lungs climatizing to climbing is the hard bit.  The proliferation of pot holes and patches started again (breaking in the backside?) and the road's rise and fall had me questioning the decision of direction but the super scenery made up for the toil.  Rapidly downhill and crawling up 'em became standard operational procedure, wheels thumping through the odd concrete floodway showed strength of spoke and proneness of posterior.

I'd reached Summerhill Creek where a Doberman (the size of a pony) hurried my next climb over the crest, a few more k's through the tree filled hills but then the tarmac ran out.  Nothing to do but u-turn and repeat the ride in reverse.  A gravel truck and trailer crawled past me grabbing at gears for a 12% rise, I'd run out of sprockets but the legs hadn't run out of steam (though lungs full of diesel smoke didn't help).  The return trip seemed shorter, the previously quick descents were now not so steep ascents (surely I'm not getting used to this uphill nonsense?), so it was pleasing to return to the Orange outer suburbs ahead of schedule for the ritual infusion of caffeine.  With a week almost full of solo's, I'm craving the camaraderie, conversation, characters and cackle of the bunch.

Week 43    293 km           YTD  11,362 km    

Week 42 : Speed suitably spiced

Post #469

13/10  Morning mount.

Far from the familiar flatlands, a Couldabeens contingent (Nev, Bruce, PistolPete, Col, Temple, Boof and partners) commuted to Castlemaine for a weekend of change in elevation and scenery.  Saturday's circuit warmed up on the 7k gentle rise to Harcourt, then a little more up to Harcourt North, wrestling with a stiff east northeaster before turning onto McIvor Rd (uphill and a headwind aint fair!).  PistolPete and Nev had done long turns before handing me the lead role, and I'd  managed to cook myself on the few inclines before the sharp rise of Joseph Young Drive took us up Mt. Alexander.  It would be a slow and steady climb of 400 meters to keep the h.r. below 180.  5k's of gradual winding road at 10% wore Col and I down as the younger/fitter/lighter ones worked their wattage to the top.  The last 1300 meters (12%) invoked the growling bear (though Col's was louder) but most had waited at the top to reassemble for the descent, so chains went back to the big ring for the downside, with a keen eye open for pot-holes and sticks spread on the tarmac.

Half way down there was a rattle and clunk and my Garmin jumped ship, so I backtracked a hundred meters to find it forlorn but functioning on the roadside (the bayonet mount had sheared off so I pocketed the perpetrator and pedalled on).  Advocating Rule #85, Col had clocked 81 when we'd collected at Faraday-Sutton Grange Rd, continuing recollected for a calmer crank down to the old Calder highway to Faraday, then turned south toward Elphingstone.  Gentle ups and downs for 10k eased the heart rate down to the 150's, so I'd found my second wind when we turned west onto the Pyrenees highway.

A 2k gradual climb was done easily , egged on knowing there was 12k's of downhill back to Castlemaine.  Bruce's Bossi was battling a little steering shimmy (headstem bearing), PistolPete and I easing back with him to take in the historical architecture of Chewton and Wesley Hill as the road snaked back to Castlemaine, the Col, Boof and Nev express steaming on ahead.  Back to base camp, all converged on Das Kaffeehaus for the mandatory coffee and chat, the pedestrian division (Leah, Sim, Temple and Cate) joining us for frustuck und sich unterhalten.

14/10  Mates, Maldon and the Butterscotch kid.

Day two of the Couldabeens at Castlemaine tour plotted an anti-clockwise course to Maldon, a milder morning but the strengthening NNE'er was a nuisance.  Six single filed (Nev. Boof, Bruce, Col and PistolPete) toward Harcourt, the gentle climb getting legs accustomed to ascents.  Onwards to Ravenswood south, Pistol and Col worked the wind till we'd reached the M79, a careful cross of the freeway then teeth were bared to attack Fogarty's Gap. Just a short (but not sweet!) 1.2 km, the road rises 63 meters, the last 400 @ 15% recalled Col's butterscotch binge from Saturday night (maybe it was just the scotch?)
An ever so gradual 6km descent to Walmer (don't blink, one house and you've missed it) was lapped up at 40+km/h, Fogarty's Gap now a distant memory even if Col could still taste it!  8km of tarmac weaved through the bushland toward the old Maldon township, the majority vote casting a coffee pitstop.

Refreshed and remounted, the strengthening wind blew us south east to Gowar, most finding the continuing descent too good to be true.  The tarmac became smoother and the sun warmed our backs, Col handed the reigns to Nev and the Indian filed six pack steamed on to Muckleford.  Just a couple of easy rises toward the Midland highway, one more short rise then down the hill back into Castlemaine, arriving at Das Kaffeehaus base station to join the walkers and indulge in linzertorte, quark soufflé and even a little polnische hochzeit washed down with wiener melange. 


15/10  Castlemaine circuit.
Just knicks and a jersey was enough for Monday's mild morning (16 degrees), at last a kit-up time unconstrained by endless layers and warmers.  I had an extra day in Castlemaine to explore (though not of Bourke & Wills proportions), a northeaster propelling me toward Newstead at six.  I had a keen eye open for kangaroos on the skinny shoulder-less Pyrenees highway, but only the deceased were sighted. 

A long and gradual downhill was sure to have later uphill repercussions but I soaked up the speed to Green Gully.  A short climb or two got the chain climbing up the cassette and brought the ego back to reality, soon Newstead appeared as the sun made an effort to rise.  Onto Daylesford Rd and bound for Guildford,  the tarmac levelled out but the wind tried to blow me into next week (maybe part payback for past pleasures?)

Two houses at the fork in the road said it was Strangways, and there I steered left to follow the tarmac skirting the railway line.  Another rise or two pegged the pace already punished by the wind, but with every rise there's the delight of a descent to rekindle mind and muscles.  A short and sweet downhill dropped me into Guildford but it was time to point into the hurt of the headwind back to Castlemaine.  With plenty of new scenery to distract, a little mule like stubbornness and a promise to self of breakfast, I put chin to headstem on the Midland highway for the 15k back to town. The Baum turns three today, still rolling along beautifully with 44,000 km on the clock but the old engine could do with more wattage.  A hill or two gave a little cover from the wind, a few more passing cars could have donated a draft, eventually perseverance paid off entering town, breakfast begging at Das Kaffeehaus to seal a satisfying long weekend.

17/10  Dodging the damp.

Tuesday's rain frightened many away from Wednesday's ride, just Cate, Tina, Wozza, Boof, PistolPete, Nev and a new guy rolled into the carpark for the 6am spin.  I had the joy of first shift on Archer Rd again, at least a northerly eased the demand for wattage to match Wozza to the roundabout (though I enjoyed the oxygen overdose when my turn finished)  Boof and Pistol made the motion to Mitchell Rd as many tried to recognise the rider new to the crew.  A little conversation soon extracted the name, answers to 'Arch' but I'm already tagging him Calf-king (a super set of sculptured gastrochs promised plenty of pace)
Efforts at the rushin' front were more frequent with only 7 taking turns at the tempo, Tina sitting out the shifts in the rear seat.  I was on the front again in River Rd with the northerly niggling at the left shoulder, getting a thorough half-biking for a k but ignoring the injustice and just focussing on smoothing the speed and line.  Cate had confined herself to the caboose by Boundary Rd, I'd just hoped Nev and Arch would see their shift out to Channel Rd and save me from the headwind hurt.  Surprisingly, Arch called an early roll in Channel Rd so I soldiered on to the S bend with Wozz, legs labouring by now (frequency at the front and a keen speed keeping me out of the comfort zone, thankfully!)  Weapon joined from the west as Nev called a skirt around the ChaCha (more like a channel after yesterdays 22mm of rain) so the diversion on Poplar Ave was new ground to cover, safer with a sprintless finish in soggy conditions.

18/10  Pace pleasure.

As Spring slowly shoves Winter aside and temperatures teeter on tolerable, how many layers to wear becomes the hot (cold?) topic in the bunch babble.  Tina, Coggo, Heady, Cate, Tum, Amy, Phil, AvantiLeigh, AvantiAndy, Sandy, Jen, Hommie, Dipper, HG and JB turned up for the Thursday Goat gadabout, Heady back at the helm to tow us out of town.  MeridaAndy had hauled himself from hibernation to join in, and with plenty of participants to form two lines, Coggo and I captained the leg to Dobson's bridge with the speed suitably spiced to stop any snoozing (HG relegated OTA)

The right line was promoted forward for their driving duties as the left line retreated to the rear for respiratory recovery, a few minutes to swap social sentences before peloton progression put me at the pointy end again.  Hommie was harnessing a hangover, Coggo and AvantiLeigh have developed a sly sentence supressor, I conversed kits with Tum and applauded JB's second appearance in a fortnight.  Determination drove Sandy and Amy to the front, possibly enticing AvantiAndy from the caboose.  Turns rolled a little shorter as I took on turn two with Heady then Dipper to the Broken bridges, but hey, they're having a go. I was treated to a tow for River Rd's 6k length, the energy banked for the ritual rigor on 'the shortcut to Shepp.'  The NNW'er gave no favours on the truck route (gobsmacked by the gusts from oncoming trucks) and Archer, Cate turning on the torment just when the legs longed for less.  There was pleasure from the pace at the end of Kialla Lakes Drive (for the momentary calm at the traffic lights), then back into labour for the last effort Lakeside.

19/10  Friday's foggy foray.

5:55 and bikes cruised the block to evade the number one grid position, count me in the circling cringers but I reckon I've done my fair share of first shift in recent weeks.  BamBam, Pelly, Grumpy, Col, Kel, Boof, Cate, Bo, MyRideTrev, Superman, Nev, TrekTrev, Bruce The Godfather, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Tommygun, Tina, Temple and PistolPete set forth south at 6, the pace picturesque on a foggy foray into Archer Rd.

I took delight in the draft while others turned themselves inside out with tempo to Mitchell Rd, the usual bunch babble burbling between two almost dignified lines to River Rd.  Fair weather has enticed Cruisers and more Cats into the outside world (cobwebs now consuming Zwift?), the Goat train (infused with '51) ahead of schedule at River Rd's rumble strips.
I'd finally reached the front to pair with Nev in Boundary Rd, almost reaching the Broken bridges before calling a roll.  Superman sided with me and raised the speed stakes to 40, or was it downhill dreaming 'cause it slowed to 36 to reach Channel Rd.  He shortened his next shift in Channel Rd as Tina, Bruce and Kel moved forward to set the standard, Weapon from the west jumped aboard as a caution was called for the Jameson Rd bend with gravel at the apex (a Hare hair-raising corner on their Thursday thrash).  Pace turned perky toward the Kinder as many fancied their chances on a Rocket &Wozza free sprint, two rows lasting till Prentice Rd where speed slimmed hopes and the hopeful to the ChaCha, Boof, Pistol and Bruce were in contention but my view was blurry way back in fifth spot.  The cruise to town was still in the high 30's, are the fit faster or does Friday fuel the fire?

Week 42      222km     YTD 11,069

Week 41 : Priorities in pain.

Post # 468
6/10  A swift Saturday.

A bit early on the commute allowed the old engine to warm up gradually for Saturday's spin, arriving at the car park to find not-so-newAvantiJohn, Bo, Tina, BamBam, Kreeky, Liam, TatPaul, MyRideTrev, Boof, The Godfather, Pistol Pete, Temple, Travis, Rocket, Bruce, TrekTrev, Nev, Wozza and WhisperingJack filling the grid.  Newcomer Lance and visitor Richard made their introductions, CatKel was a rare inclusion and believe it or not, BeerMat had emerged from a six month retirement (with plenty of extra insulation).   Not-so-newAvantiJohn needed a tactical tap in the drivers seat to prevent the long chain from breaking,  so a k or so gently on the gas kept the crew connected.

The squad was up to a swift speed by Sanctuary roundabout and positions filled quickly in the up-line, so I sat for the natural promotion to the pointy end rather than create chaos swapping lines (well, that's my excuse).   I'd optimistically braved short knicks and fingerless gloves in five degrees, though temperature was warming quickly as the sun rose above River Rd.  Finally reaching the front as we crossed New Dookie Rd, I had a short squirt beside Lance to the rail line then with Kreeky to the BigRing, likely to be the only contribution.  The breeze behind boosted the bravado on the way west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd as I was demoted down the line, the social dialogue a distraction till it looked like I might get another turn at the toil.

Several chose the Verney or Numurkah Rd's escape routes to wriggle out of the work on Wanganui, I was advancing to the business end far too early for my liking when Liam drew the squad skinny with speed at the treatment works, saving me from a fast fate at the front.
 Gaps opened up in the left line under the labour, so I took to a tow behind Kreeky ensuring I didn't scare myself sneaking a squiz at the speedo.  Richard was lining up for a squirt at the sprint but soon sat down when Rocket catapulted past.  Liam peeled off the front after almost a k in the high 40's, I just clawed at the tail end with the survivors to the top of the hill.  The glance rearward in Rudd Rd brought a brief slow to pick up The Godfather and Tina, then dig for wattage I didn't think remained to work with Liam to catch the front runners accelerating to the Boulevard.    I made a brief contribution to the chase but Liam's young engine was more suited to the speed, thoughts of breakfast helped to ignore the white flags the legs kept waving, the chance of scoring a seat at the long Lemontree table providing the urge for a 3rd overall on the 'Breakfast Bolt'.  Scary movies, overseas shopping and demographic dressing kept conversations cooking with the crew as the sun slowly warmed the tattling table.

8/10  The Monday motion.

Daylight savings time plunges us back into darkness and strangely drags the mindset back to winter, but The Godfather, Col, Kreeky, Kel, PistolPete, Cate, Wozza, BigBen, Sherls, Bruce and Cobbles weren't afraid of the dark rolling into the carpark for the Monday motion.  Bruce led the charge into Channel Rd's darkness, his distinctive, almost gangly gait talking tempo from the get go.   Col's back on the bike after a niggling knee needed nurturing (with less alcohol eh Col?) and Wozza was a little wearied from a hot 100k in the 'bogies'.   I was on The Godfather's wheel as he whacked the chain down to the eleven, a shockwave rippling through the Reacto and it's Enve wheel (I even considered a donation to the foundation for the cruelty to cassettes)   A turn at the front to Central Avenue's bend and I rolled across, my new co-pilot being Big Ben, chatting away merrily while I died a thousand deaths trying to match his pace (and stifling the growling bear to portray some form of composure).  Recovery dragged on till the S bend as others did their bit , barely a glimmer on the horizon to greet us in Boundary Rd.

With the ability to speak restored, I chatted supercars with The Godfather, the old days of the Shepp show with Cobbles and the oppressive effect darkness brings with Sherls.  Speed steadily climbed by Ford Rd's end, and I gathered the Monday gospel hadn't been preached to BigBen and Sherls as the velocity breeched 40 in Wanganui Rd.  I called a caution for the pot-hole at DECA's gate (The Godfather missed it by that much) as the speed climbed further, two lines thinning to one to keep in touch with the fast fellows at the front. The pace kept percolating along the Boulevard (the quest for coffee is strong) so my exit at Mason's end for a slow roll home was luxury for the legs.

9/10  A love of labour.

Goats seem to have sorted into the determined and the deterred 'cause Coggo, Cate, Heady, Tina, Tum, Sandy, Speissy, JB, AvantiAndy, Phil, AvantiLeigh and Hommie fronted Friars (without a trace of HG, Joey, Snow, Baz, Brendy et al).  Sly must have missed the Cat train to join the group of Goats, so Heady did the lead-out (of town) as six bells chimed.  Two rows formed in Old Dookie Rd and I wondered if the single file standard may be now passe as the bunch inflates with the fairweather faction. Two rows persisted beyond the truck route, happy the pace wasn't pedestrian though it wasn't near the parameters of pain.

 JB did well managing a turn on his second ride since summer but Speissy sat on in sufferance. The chat from left to right took some getting used to after months of single filed silence, AvantiAndy and Coggo braved bare arms for the mild 13 degrees but some are still stuck with the winter insulation.  Hommie and Sly were no doubt half wheeling each other as the pace picked up in Boundary Rd, hats off to Sandy and AvantiAndy still taking turns despite the torment of tempo.  Effort was easier along River Rd with the breeze beside and six k's slipped by seemingly in seconds.  Cate joined my exit at River Rd's end, and the labour of 6 k's on the 'shortcut to Shepp' lay ahead, knowing there'd be pain with the push but it's that weird love of labour that fires the enthusiasm.  There's no tow on the truck route and Archer (other than a brief draft from a passing vehicle) so rest is off the agenda as we each egged the other on, a sliver of scarlet sunrise the sole distraction from the drive.  Head then legs, lungs then heart rate took priority in pain till Melbourne Rd (not bad, just 3 seconds off the best time), a moment to regain lost oxygen then back on the gas for the finale past the lake.

10/10  Dodging drizzles.

Battling a southerly burnt up most of my breakfast to reach the carpark on Wednesday, 30 km/h gusts would limit drivers on Archer Rd to a masochistic few.  Col, Rocket, Wozza, Kenworth, Kel, Nev, SuperMario, Bo, BeerMat, TrekTrev, Tina, MyRideTrev, PistolPete, Boof, Cate, Temple, The Godfather and Kreeky packed the park for the 6am off and plenty did the duck and dive entering Archer Rd to leave me as chosen one to drive south into the headwind.  With an acceptable acceleration to the edge of town, I was quickly relegated wrecked on the open plains toward Sanctuary's roundabout, but Rocket generously declared my share done and rolled across to draft me from distress (he and PistolPete nonchalantly driving to the truck route in the high 30's made my turn tepid).

Wozza and Boof, in similar standard, sped on to Mitchell Rd while Bo (voted tailwind specialist) positioned for his part to play in River Rd.  Surprise, surprise BeerMat's on his 2nd ride for the week (training for a Buffalo-Tawonga-Falls challenge in January will be from frying pan to fire).  A distant red horizon spelt damp to come (already dodging the odd puddle left from an overnight sprinkle), hopefully we'd be home without being hosed by the heavens.  Nev and Bo capitalised the captaincy beyond the River Rd dip but turns rolled a couple of k's later so all may delight the distress from driving.
Excitement brewed as 19 bolted toward Kinder corner, several sitting in the survival seats as the sprint-interested stoked the speed to Hopeful corner.  The ChaCha's long puddles caused a couple to weave around the wet, a rub of shoulders in the mid 40's not a safe scenario. (offenders, write Rule #59 a hundred times after class).  Thankfully there was an upright outcome, a cruise to the school collected the caboose and all rolled happily homeward.

11/10  That's the way (a-ha, a-ha) I like it!

Repetitive rides of 30 and 40k prompted a prologue early Thursday, time to teach the legs a longer lesson in labour.  Out to the golf course and over to Lemnos was the distance decision (though another layer to insulate against 5 degrees would have been smarter), so with 24k done, I fronted Friars.  6am Spring starters are always a lucky dip, today it was Tum, Amy, Phil, Speissy, Cate, AvantiLeigh, Tina and HG the Goats gathered for Thursday therapy.  The lead role was mine to exit town, all line astern told me it was a single filed affair, so I squeezed the accelerator gently to 37, respectful of the roll rituals at Dobsons bridge for my first rest break.  HG had uncoupled from the caboose when I berthed at the back (was it winter or wine that wearied him?)   The horizon's glow was a welcoming window for the warmer weeks ahead, Cate, Tina, AvantiLeigh and Tum dragged us to Boundary Rd, collecting Sandy and Hommie en-route.

A breeze at the brow made tough work for Amy's turn into the southerly but she'd had her Kellogs Konkrete for breakfast and kept at it.  I was on Phil's wheel as he drove to Boundary's bridge, watching intently for his sign, his head lowered as hands went to the drops, and a couple of white posts later his elbow ushered me to the front.  Such was the smoothness the rhythm remained and nobody (but Speissy) was popped off the back.  Single file's the way I like it, anti-social as it is there's no half wheeling, turns can be as long or short as needed, there's less traffic agro, nobody gets their wheel cut off and it's a true'er taste of teamwork.  AvantiLeigh's turn was long and strong to River Rd, Hommie still hits hard (but mellows after a minute), Tina's back to her old swift self (don't tell the doctor!) and Sandy's spirit's stainless steel (don't listen to her version!).  A caution was called at the angora farm for a cow imitating a traffic island, but it ambled to the roads edge for it's Kellogs Kud thankfully.  Hopes were high that Phil would do a double shift and finish off River Rd but he'd done his fair share before putting me in the drivers seat for the last k (I shouldn't grizzle with a hint of help from the SSE'er).  Exit stage right for the shortcut to town but Cate punctured on the turn to the truck route.  With a quick fix done, the habitual hurt home was on again, the southerly supplementing the speed to make up for the pit stop deficit.

12/10  Friday's fiesta.

Col, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Kreeky, MyRideTrev, PistolPete, Chops, Cate, Bo, Nev, Rocket, Kel, BamBam, TrekTrev, Pelly, Jen, Superman, Boof, Bruce, Tina and Kenworth assembled in a TGIF frame of mind for Friday's fiesta.  Front of house again for that long labour of the first shift, Rocket paired with me (respectful of his elders) in matching my wheel to Sanctuary's roundabout (kudos from Kreeky and PistolPete made the pain pass).  Chops is back (with limited oxygen) from a long hibernation, Superman's back from a successful ATB, BamBam confined himself to the caboose but Jen and Tina had the fortitude to face the front.  By chance (?) Nev and Bo paired to push the pace in River Rd, our paths crossing with Pussycats in silence (ah, the serenity of The Godfather's absence!)
The Goat train of pain (with '51 partners) ripped into River Rd on a mission of manic motion as we rounded the bend into Boundary Rd.  Smoothness satisfied the squad up to Channel Rd though the SSE'er was as strong as Ralphy's attendance.  Rocket looked relaxed as the pace wound gently up at the cypress trees, I'd had enough by Central Ave and Rocket rolled across, his pairing with Pistol pouring on the pain as the pack swung into Kinder corner.  Rocket lit the afterburners sending all neatly into single file behind in speed survival, Nev gifting the lead-out to Boof as I slowly slipped to the demoted (but finding a handful on my wheel grateful of a draft).  A day off allowed the pleasure of post pedal coffee with Jen & Cate and a catch-up with Princess, Fee, Meags, Scott & Kylie of past P&W days.

Week 41 :    263km      YTD 10,847km

Week 40 : The fitness factions.

Post #467
29/9  Border patrol.

Off Couldabeens campus for Saturday, I'd rolled up for Cobram's 8:30 bunch ride but it had attracted a grid of zero, maybe they were mimicking Muppets? or had a bunch of blokes kicking a bit of leather around an oval turned their allegiance? Switching to a solo strategy, I took aim at Tocumwal with a wicked WSW'er (22-43 km/h) to work me over.  The road twists left and right to the state border, so some sections were heaven and others hell (depending on direction) but 18k's of weaving against the wind I'd crossed the greenish Murray river into New South Wales.  Hopes of being blown across to Barooga was Foss's folly, the wind had wandered to a southwester and the Tocumwal-Barooga Rd was as straight as a dog's hind leg.  Twenty k's of toil pitching into the gusts murdered muscles as I explored the thrash threshold without the back-up of a bunch draft.  A good test of personal pace...….or so I'll tell my therapist!  The long open stretches exposed to the elements were spent keeping a lid on the heart rate and my wrath at the wind.  

Two bikes worked west, their expressions of exhaust no doubt like mine, swapping a wave of understanding of the masochism and the madness.  The road finally skewed a little more eastward to ease the effort as Barooga's edge came into view, but Golf course drive pointed me almost due south as the southwest gusts grew.  Holding 30 km/h was hopeless and the Berrigan shire had perfectly cloned the tarmac to the Trouee D' Arenberg stage of the Paris-Roubaix.  Craving the cover of a tree or a house, it crucified for a couple of k's but battled into the town to turn west back to my home state.   Into Cobram, another penchant for pain strangely overpowered me, a loop of River and McClusky Rd's to the highway then back to town was added to earn my coffee.    Legs were as lenient as liquorice on the open stretch of McClusky, the wind howling between the ears.  Steering west at the highway the magpies swooped, but they had as much impact as the 19 that played at the MCG.   I made amends and apologies to the legs and lungs back in town and treated them to a bakery, but the coffee was ordinary and the banana bread took 20 minutes to toast (arriving like warm dough)…...ah! how I love thee Lemontree!

1/10  The temperature tester.

A month into Spring and the thermometer gives us July, 1.7 degrees well short on specs for Monday's motivator.  5:45 assembly attracted The Godfather, Grumpy, PistolPete, Wozza, not-so-newAvantiJohn, and Cate to the carpark, Bo & Kel sneaking in at the third stroke while Nev kept consistent with the Johnny-come-lately job.  I gently turned up the tempo to a speed sensed sensible but was well shy on the Garmin gauge, flatten it Foss! (if you're to match not-so-newAvantiJohn and uphold a speed standard).   It took a bit of mental muscle to reach the truck route and keep composed, so I savoured leg two's draft to restore the respiratory rate for the next shift.  The long weekend's r&r kept tongues tattling out to Boundary Rd as the sun started the working week, Grumpy had a classic case of kit confusion, (Couldabeens knicks with Cats jersey was sacrilege), The Godfather was strangely chirpy in light of his team's loss and Nev was off the back of a 500k week.  The turns had rolled to put me at the front crossing Old Dookie Rd, Grumpy a quarter wheel ahead but who's measuring?  Not-so-newAvantiJohn paced me to the rail line where I was keen for a tow and shelter from the chill.  Nev of course pocketed the gillet working west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, all my fuss and bother of driving the first leg now forgotten with the same speed easy on turn three. The sun warmed our backs for the 10k's back to town, a sprint free stage on Wanganui Rd but the Boulevard blurred by in the quest for coffee.

2/10 The fast and fairweather factions.

Tuesday turned the tide for the Goats gathering at Friars (Joey, Phil, AvantiLeigh, Sandy, HG, BigBen, Belly, Coggo, Cate, Hommie, BrotherAndrew, AvantiAndy and Heady), the divide between the winter warriors and the bed brethren was wide enough apart to form factions of fast and fairweather.  Coggo read the sermon on speed so that all could choose their calling and two social rows eased their way out of town .  SPC roundabout was selected as the start line and Coggo played captain, straight into the mid 30's stretched the line long to the truck route where he elbowed me for my turn at the tempo.  I made it to the bridge and peeled off the front, surprised to find AvantiAndy the next in line for duty.  Andy's shift was short and sweaty as reality of the front hit him hard, so he handed the helm to Cate to carry on to Central Ave.  Coggo was soon back to the rushin' front while I wondered where the drivers (Belly, AvantiLeigh, Phil and BigBen) had gone as I was put in for another shift at School Rd bound for Boundary.

A sneek peek back as we steered south found the others had joined and were lined up to contribute, Hommie huffing "Trying to kill us Foss?" told me the speed was suitable.  Heady, Sandy, HG, Joey, BrotherAndrew and AvantiAndy were m.i.a. as eight sped south toward the highway, BigBen and AvantiLeigh providing the pace to the pub, Belly, Cate and Hommie driving to River Rd.  I had Phil's wheel for the first k west, getting the drivers seat on the smooth stretch past the angora farm and quarter horse stud, the sun at our backs casting long shadows ahead.  One more white post.....one more...what the heck! another one, before putting Coggo in charge and dropping to the back for breath.  I was wary of the wattage as BigBen was made captain at the bridge, a truck just ahead donating a draft turned up the tempo further.  Now well into the 40's the line grew longer from labour, Hommie doing a Hiroshima half a k from River's end, time (or the lack of it) turning Cate and I to town.  High thirties was heaven (in comparison) on the drive down to Archer Rd and as the legs loosened mid thirties was almost the limit, climatizing to the calm turning limbs lax.

3/10  Worked all winter for this warmth!

First on the grid (a mild morning minimising kit-up time) meant I had the long first shift, but I'd aimed at a slow build of speed for those just off the injury list.  Tina, Temple, Jen, WhisperingJack, Rocket, Cate, The Godfather, Lynda, Bo, Boof, PistolPete, Wozza, MyRideTrev and TrekTrev formed in the car park, Nev arriving on cue to our exit for the spin south.  BamBam appeared from Kialla Lakes Drive as I'd just got the tempo to the mid 30's, Rocket paired alongside me and squeezed the accelerator to 38.  Damn! That roundabout looked a distant dream! (I should remove the heart rate readout from the Garmin screen, it only displays distress when you least need it)
Delighted in the draft as Rocket rolled across at the roundabout, it was another minute before breathing returned to speak sense.  Temple, Tina and Jen had hung on to the caboose as the turns rolled at the front, BamBam battled the breeze through Central Kialla, aerodynamics not on his side but thumbs up, he's the only FDC having a go at the moment.

PistolPete's collection of class kits continues (look up cool couture in the dictionary and you'll find a picture of him),  MyRideTrev had some regret doing a shift at the front (but it's better than permanent residence in the caboose).  I got the drivers seat for the last k of River Rd beside Cate, then more muscular mayhem matching Rocket in Boundary Rd with a head wind to boot.  My hopes of reaching the Broken bridges were ditched as fantasy, hanging on to second wheel at One Tree Dam as Wozza and Rocket belted to Channel Rd (looking like it was a Sunday drive).  The pace was unabated west on Channel Rd and the turns shortened closing in on the ChaCha and I was getting closer and closer to the pointy end at Hopeful corner.    I could almost feel an attack brewing behind, and as if to save me from the front, Rocket, Wozza, Boof and PistolPete fired past to humiliate us all into the "also rans".  (Ten out of ten to Temple, just back into the bunch, figuring in the midfield placings)

4/10  Windelible.

Coggo, Tina, Dipper, Cate, Phil, Tum, Hommie, Aimee, Spiessy, HG, Sandy, Belly and Tim grouped at Friars for Thursday's thrash, and I wondered if fitness would faction the bunch to the fast and the flogged, a stiff southerly (20-33 km/h) would certainly sort drivers from survivors.  I led a line out of town, but traffic lights broke the bunch in two, so a slow to the truck route joined the links again.  Turning up the tempo beyond Doyles Rd thinned the line long and fanned across the tarmac in search of shelter.  I wasn't sure if my speed suited all but a glance back answered plenty were participating.  Cate and Tina took on turns two and three from Dobson's bridge toward Central Ave as I slipped down the long Indian filed line to find shelter, almost in the gutter with the gaspers as an oncoming truck blew us all back to last week. 

It was inspiring to see many move up to face the front in spite of the wind, there's hope for improvement when the head's strong even if the legs aren't.
 The turn south into Boundary Rd furrowed the brow and unearthed a few profanities, Amy, Tum, Hommie and Phil mustering the muscle into the 25 km/h gusts. Phil's wheels sung in the southerly down to the Pub, my turn to be tow truck from the highway to the Broken bridges almost broke me.  Amy and Sandy had cemented themselves to the rear seats, Dipper and Coggo pouring on the perspiration to reach River Rd.  The wind still whipped our way west with the pain on the portside, eight shadows spread across the bitumen with the tail-gunners task of traffic lookout slipping at times.  Phil had had enough out of the dip and handed the hurry to me, up and over the bridge I added three more white posts to the pain before the change of shift.  I grabbed a k worth of recovery before the push homeward on the shortcut to Shepp, a ton of toil on the truck route with wind-shear from oncoming B doubles, but the trophy tail wind on Archer Rd wrung out the last remaining watts to town.


5/10  The peloton populaire.

Short knicks and fingerless gloves were worn to woo the warmer weather out on Friday, but that was effective as a Muppet in a sprint!  Kenworth, The Godfather, WhisperingJack, not-so-newAvantiJohn, Pelly, Wozza, Jen, AvantiAndy, Cate, BamBam, Temple, Tina, Rocket, Boof, PistolPete, Bruce, Nick, MyRideTrev, Superman, TrekTrev and Nev crammed the carpark in wait for 6am, MyRideTrev scoring the captain's role to ride us south on Archer Rd at a pace perambulated till Rocket and Wozza stoked up the speed.  Bo and Kel filtered into the pack as we left the city limits, the start of a scenic sunrise clamped by a curtain of clouds (but no complaints today ; daylight savings will steal the daylight from us from Sunday onward.   And will that trigger round two of hibernation for some?)   With a Herculean effort, Nick has hauled himself back onto two wheels,  Superman's back too (last minute prep for Sunday's 'round the Bay) and AvantiAndy was energised enough for ride two of the week, joining Temple in the rear seats, though these comeback kids are kept incognito in the caboose as the rest rolled.

A breeze behind elevated enthusiasm riding to River Rd, long-time-no-see Tommygun adding to the rear gunners as two dozen made the effort eastward.  A keen collection of Pussycats (and passengers) made their way west, goading The Godfather's guffaws, Nev and PistolPete percolating our pack's pace to Boundary Rd.   I pondered the pain on the train of Goats (with firepower from '51ers) as my heart rate holidayed in the low 120's, I'd probably get just one short shift today with the size of this bunch (though I reckon I've been in enough work this week to wear me weary).  Hats off to BamBam stepping forward for duty in Channel Rd, his gait talking the language of labour toward the S bend as Bo chatted (to chastise?) beside. I attempted to synchronise to the super smooth of Kel's cadence to the cypress trees (not an easy effort to equal) then had WhisperingJack hurl half a wheel ahead as I tried to pair to Central Ave.  Jen braved a bolt toward Kinder corner, turns rolling shorter and faster as the ChaCha's crescendo closed in.  Wozza turned the squad skinny with speed to Hopeful corner and beyond, Nev supplying the five star lead-out for Boof's lunge at the line.  A minute or so for the fractured pieces to congregate, then the team talked its way to town, a rare weekday chance for me to take in Lemontree coffee and philosophy on cheap jerseys, big bike events and the motivational motor in the mind.

Week 40        225km               YTD 10,584km