Post #506
22/6 Champions of the chill.
'Twas solstice Saturday and the depths of winter froze the extremities (feels like minus two), theoretically we're over the hump but the ravages of July still lurk just around the corner! Deliberately a little earlier and deliberately a little slower, my calm commute to the carpark was a little kinder in the cold till circulation allowed a bit of pace. In the two minutes before six Boof, Nev, Shorty, Kreeky, The Godfather, Rocket, Bo, Lance, TatPaul, GiantAndy, Determined Dan, Grumpy, Bruce, TatMat and PistolPete made up a better than expected bunch, Boof leading the line south toward Sanctuary's roundabout with Superman's reflective cape to aim at.
The tempo turned tolerable after a few minutes of teeth clenching cold at Pistol's pace, Lance's strobing tail light was almost summoning spasms (again) but Grumpy had dialled his dazzler down. Conversations were mostly audible over The Godfather's garble, that tenth commandment (thou shalt not covet thy neighbours heated gloves or heated socks) hard to uphold with Pistol and TatPaul seemingly snug. It had been a mostly cruisy ride but my turn at the front drew near, time to contribute to the collective cause and harden up for the hurry. A grind with Grumpy from the fig farm to Old Dookie Rd then with GiantAndy to the bridge was just a few minutes of energy expenditure, there'd be fifteen minutes of laziness afterward. Just four Cats had faced the cold as we steered west into Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, the Rocket and Pistol combination had hit the front and we all hit the forties till The Godfather's protests subsided (the urge for oxygen overtook the temptation to talk)
GiantAndy had taken a Lemnos exit toward employment, our strive for speed had a slap of zero degrees to contend with (that carrot of coffee at the end made it cycling under sufferance somewhat). The caboose had gained popularity and population as we toured into town, back to the front for me again under the pressure of work in Wanganui. I'd rolled across after Grumpy's strong shift which only opened the floodgates of Pistol, Boof, Bo, Kreeky, TatMat, Bruce et al hurling themselves at the hill. It's been many moons since a Saturday sprint (Boof cementing a win from what I could see through the fog), composures then collected on a steady Boulevard spin. A few departed for a Stanley's sojourn but the majority made their way to the Lemontree to huddle under the heaters, chat on canines that chase, music genres and dog diets dispersed during breakfast.
24/6 The frosty five.
Insomnia inspired the 5:00am start on Monday, three layers of insulated insurance was installed against a rather brisk minus two. South through town and onto Raftery Rd was like a mother-in-laws kiss and charity combined, aiming into Conrod straight and aiming to join the 5:45's, hoping there'd be some hardcore there. The k's clicked over and so did the clock, by Mitchell Rd my calculations of the eta would be within seconds of the launch. That would be PistolPete a kilometre ahead as I turned north into Archer, so the head dropped down for the hurry if I was to catch the train. Reaching the city limits with two minutes to go, Channel Rd came into view as the clock clicked 5:45, just catching PistolPete, The Godfather, Kreeky and Col as they rolled out. That haste had helped, I was well warmed and ready to pair with The Godfather to the truck route.
The chat door was kept mainly shut (keeping the warmth within) and with just five to swap turns and a little patchy fog to cut through it was well and truly a welcome to winter work. Col sounded to be in respiratory ruin though his speed told a different story as I drew alongside at the cypress trees, matching The Godfather was a little easier as he'd handbraked the pace a little from the S bend to Boundary Rd. Not a bike or a bunch was to be seen on this favoured course, all softening on Zwift or just plain zzzzzzz…. There's several I know who have a temperature limit, but there's little difference between two and minus two, it's all cold! There was more huff and puff for me at the front in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd with Col to the bridge (less puff and more pace now) then The Godfather (sublimely silent) to Lemnos North Rd. Kreeky cranked courageously beside PistolPete to Verney Rd as yet another turn looked likely for me in Wanganui Rd. Col was improving with each turn and my drive was in decline, I called a short shift at DECA's test track and fighting a foggy focus on Mt.Wanganui, made sure I had a tyre ahead of The Godfather at the finish line (lest we be flooded with news of a victory)
25/6 Five for fortitude.
I might have dived in a bit deep Tuesday, the old engine creaked and groaned even in the low thirties at zero degrees, and here I was headed to join the horsepower on the 5:40 fling! The wattage of Pistol, Boof and Kreeky were waiting in the carpark, so with self still sceptical, set off south with Pistol piloting. Grumpy joined the tail at the Broken bridge, Pistol carefully applying speed toward Sanctuary's roundabout. I must have hardened to the hurry 'cause it wasn't too cruel reaching the truck route, Pistol handing the helm to Kreeky to crank to Mitchell Rd. Strangely, I was still coherent turning east when Boof took the lead, looks like I'd be forth on duty for the Central Kialla stage. Easing up to the expectations (37) wasn't that easy but the old engine ran ok to River Rd, how come that was possible when low thirties was the maximum before? The weight of conformity or the want of acceptance might be the answer, but it did sooth the soul that I'd matched a more youthful standard. Grumpy captained River Rd's first leg but an oxygen deficit shortened his shift shy of the bridge, Pistol Pete drove his second shift to the dip an a bit beyond, Kreeky seemingly set on taking the train to Boundary Rd.
His velocity ever so slowly sagged over time, figuring a breeze was taxing his tempo, the body language telling a tale of torment but with an accent of tenacity in it. Boof took the lead role in Boundary Rd and was still steaming along swiftly at the bridges, of course he soldiered on to the pub (sending a subtle signal of match me if you can?) I didn't set a target when I faced the front over the highway, preferring to pick the previous pace and wait till the old engine misfired. Up and over the bridge at 160 that smallest of declines was a bonus, down to the fig farm and 175 was whittling away at the willpower, the 600 metres left to Old Dookie laboured at my legs and lungs limit (just to prove performance.....or pigheadedness!) (Coggo was spotted solo southward, the only Goat with guts to face the day). Gumpy took us west toward town till the tank was almost empty, PistolPete back in the drivers seat making Grumpy's job to catch the tail a trial. Of course, Pistol powered to the forties all the way to town, Kreeky driving us into town to take the train to coffee while I turned toward employment.
26/6 I could get used to this.....NOT!
That moment between succumbing to a sleep-in and discarding the doona dragged on, another morning with the mercury at zero was luring me to the dark side of softness.
So is it skiting on Strava, the urge to hang-out with the hardcore or just that obsessive cycling disorder that bounces you out of bed? Layered like an onion in readiness to ride, you feel invincible till opening the front door, the frost forcing a foggy "faaark" from your lips! No surrender now Foss, just ride f.f.s! Slow and steady with speed broke me into the briskness, five k's of cautious commute got me to the carpark to find Bo, not-so-newAvantiJohn, PistolPete, Kel, Col, Wozza, Boof Shorty, Grumpy, Rocket and Joe, probably pleased to find other (crazy) Couldabeens had committed (or should be committed!) Pistol led the charge south and I'd sneakily snuck into his draft to maximise the tow till I faced the front (though hanging on at second wheel was hardly a cruise) Kel exited west (kudos for knocking over an earlier loop) as we pointed east on Mitchell, another phantom northeast breeze felt through Central Kialla that the bureau debunked.
Fairly frozen at the front with the fastness of Boof then Pistol to match, my short shift seemed to short change the standard drive donation, though some were even shorter and some never made it out of the caboose. No sign of Cruisers, Cats or Goats raised our ranking, I took hope from a hint of horizon light that we'll soon see the days lengthen, well it was a little distraction as Rocket and Wozza paired (there's that combo again!) to hurt us with their hurry. Shorty, Grumpy and The Godfather's turns shortened in Boundary Rd, moving me nearer the effort end again. Continued cruelty seemed to have limbered my legs, speed seemed sustainable to the S bend with Boof (or was he just being kind to the aged?) but despite due diligence, I remained a wheel in arrears to not-so-newAvantiJohn as he hurled himself toward the cypress trees. The specialists in speed (Bo, Wozza, Rocket et al) had lined up to dish out distress for the ChaCha, cementing my place in the 'hang-onto-the-draft-to-figure-as-a-finisher' division and hope not to be demoted o.t.a. A solid spin to town kept the circulation flowing, work steered me homeward while the need for heat headed many to coffee.
27/6 What? Warmer?!
Through the bends of the Boulevard and out into the blackness of Rudd Road to the golf course, a light east northeaster chilled the bones on an early loop, though three degrees was the warmest we'd had all week. Thursday's usual 5:40 fling was swapped to gather with Goats, I'd boost their attendance by 20% and spare my legs some of the thrashing of the past few days. Sounds like softening eh? My easterly effort in Wanganui Rd made better time than expected, the turn south into Verney lapping up the billiard table tarmac back to town (until the roundabout roadworks resembled Roubaix roughness!) Tum, Coggo, Snow and Heady are the mid year remnants of the 15+ (fairweather) Goats, but I guess all bunches suffer scarcity the moment weather turns less than ideal.
Heady's lead out of town (inked heavily into his job description) handed me the first shift to Dobson's bridge, I doubted a high thirties hurry but there was just enough north in the east northeaster to allow 36 to the bridge. Tum drove down to Central Ave but Snow struggled in his matchstick-like draft. Coggo took over where Snow left off (just short of School Rd) with his trademark smooth and slick shift, Heady polishing off Old Dookie Rd but traffic split the synchronised spin into Boundary. Calm till the fig farm, Tum gave me the giddy-up when all were aboard, so I drove to the pub, buoyed by the breeze at the backside. Tum took the train south to Channel Rd where Heady put in his best again, Snow turning up the tempo to One Tree Dam but I think he'd drained the reserve tank in the process. Coggo continued the rush to River Rd but Snow had dropped off Heady's wheel by the corner. Off the gas for a moment or two, five realigned for Coggo to pour the pace back on again, ah how a tailwind invigorates! I had the drivers seat again at the Angora farm but cranked carefully to keep the five as one (how to win friends and get an invite back) I'd waited for oncoming cars to pass before peeling off near Laws Drive, back onto Coggo's wheel (and it's 80mm carbon chorus) for a draft to Central Kialla Rd. A passing truck or two drew us along in a 40+ draft just as time called me to short-cut for a solo home.
28/6 A 6:30-stocktake-so-solo-at-stupid-o'clock spin.
It's a bugger when work interrupts the riding, so a sparrows' fart start to satisfy the obsessive cycling disorder was in order to clear the head ahead of works' stocktake. A northeaster restricted my rush but there'd be a treat back to town. A persistent push to Boundary Rd paid off with relief on the adductor magnus turning south, and with an eye on the clock, toyed with the route back to town. There was plenty of serenity without wind whistling between the ears and not a car to compete with, so chose the highway back to base (two metres of emergency lane to myself and not a dog or a rabbit to deal with) The westward spin slipped quickly by (regrettably closer to another day at the coalface) but JFK's right, "
nothing compares to the simple pleasure of riding a bike"
Week 26 260km YTD 6,770km
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