Post #515
26/8 The peloton populaire.
For a fleeting moment serious thought was given to going back to the bliss of bed, another freezing morning was doing it's best to soften me, but the regret of missing the Saturday ride would keep me cranky most of the day, so h.t.f.u. 'ol Foss, kit-up and saddle-up! The chain clattered it's neglect and teeth chattered to the "feels like minus one", a sad and soulful tune for the six k warm-up (now there's an oxymoron!) to the starting grid. Rocket and Boof had berthed, the clock clicked 5:59 and the floodgates opened, Travis, Manny, Liam, TrekTrev, Kreeky, MyRideTrev, Lance, TatMat, Wozza, GiantAndy, PistolPete, DeterminedDan, Bo, TatPaul, Bruce, Joe (not Jude) and Shorty filled the carpark and the atmosphere with chatter, and a good measure of cackle as The Godfather rolled nonchalantly in. The circus had come to town! The order got sorted as legs spun south, thoroughbreds to the front and old nags galloping to keep up behind, all chasing Superman's reflective cape (gillet) to Sanctuary's roundabout.
Grumpy was another early starter as bait for the bunch, the sight of his bare legs making most feel warmer. Shorty, DeterminedDan and Kreeky represented blue team Avanti, all aboard the bargain buy of the year (carbon Corsa SL, Dura-Ace and DT Swiss wheels for a rock bottom $2999). Why today was well populated was anyone's guess, the temperature certainly wasn't inviting so maybe we're the moths to the early light. With the bigger bunch came a mixed bag of wattages (contributing to varied velocities), although it took some urging to draw MyRideTrev from the caboose. GiantAndy provided him the tow and I played back up as we made our way forward in the advance line, finally facing the front at the fig farm and careful to level with my bike mechanic less I pay double for the next service.
MyRideTrev's turn was short but sweet, Rocket next up cranking kindly alongside to Old Dookie Rd. Wozza and Rocket proved their power dragging the bunch to the Toaster with total disregard to a headwind of course, Pussycat numbers low as we turned toward town on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd. This riding in daylight thing is a treat after months of dashing around in the dark, noticing someone's smoothed the rough join to Ford Rd's new stretch of tarmac, even fixed the northside gully that played a part in the Pussycat prang. Looks like I'd be at the front again for the work in Wanganui, a tow to the front from GiantAndy was handy but the effort beside him made my role a short one to DECA (steering the train around a jacket left in the middle of the road). TatMat and DeterminedDan drove possessed to the hill but GiantAndy stretched ahead for the Mt.Wanganui win. Breakfast warmed us at a lengthening Lemontree table, tattle on
The Rules, big distances and being possessed.
26/8 Cold comfort.
By the skin of my teeth I'd caught the tail of the Monday train, every traffic light against me on the cold commute to the start line. PistolPete and Kel led the dedicated few (Bruce, Kreeky, Wozza, Grumpy, Bo and The Godfather) into Channel Rd while I gobbled the oxygen of recovery at the rear, two k's in the draft and I'd descended from the heart rate heavens, coherent enough to join the up line on The Godfather's wheel. It was one of those days where you could feel the breeze (a subtle southwester) but the bureau said bullshit, I'd managed to avoid the southern stretch of Central Ave and lucked the northeastern leg of Channel and the north northwest of Boundary Rd for a pairing with The Godfather then Grumpy for my opening salvo. Focus fixes on strange things in the tow of recovery, Grumpy's grubby Giant still soiled from last week's damp and the contrast of PistolPete's pristine Pinarello about to serve up some speed at the bridge. With Wozza's wattage alongside, Pistol's pace had a silencing effect on the small squad, all the way to New Dookie Rd they blurred the bitumen in a labour on legs (but they were probably just above idle)
You've gotta give kudos to Kel storming her way to the front in the mass of males, she's almost the last of the lasses left to tame the testosterone and put balance into the babble in a bunch of boofy blokes. Come back Tina, Jen, Cate, Laura, Car + Mel, the bunch has turned a bit shabby without you! (PistolPete's panache the exception) Bo and The Godfather went into extra time from their two k drive on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, another k beside Bo in Ford Rd softened The Godfather (it's strangely reassuring hearing the gasps of labour alongside when your tank still has something left) so my effort was eased reaching Grahamvale Rd. I savoured that rare moment of being right in the zone for the drive to Verney Rd but I'll admit I was glad to grab Grumpy's draft for the next leg to the highway. Maybe I'd avoid the work in Wanganui? Pistol and Wozza put in a hurry toward the hill, Kel on the limit with Pistol's pace to Kittles Rd, but there was a calmer conclusion along the Boulevard as the crew cruised to coffee,
27/8 Tuesday's torment (but lovin' it!)
Second wheel to PistolPete (again) and into a chilly southerly wasn't my ideal place to start the Tuesday 5:40 fling, but I was sure I'd get over it.....later. Grumpy, Kel, Kreeky and Bo were lined up behind, special guest Boof along for the ride too (on holiday from the Hares?) My head was full of great intention starting my shift from the truck route, winding up the speed to the previous pace I was soon sent the signals of stress from labouring lungs and lamenting legs that I'd set the speed a bit swift, Mitchell Rd still a pinpoint on the horizon of hurt. I reckon I could hear the snores of big engines at an idle behind me and that switched on the stubbornness to drive harder (I just wished the speedo had reflected all that effort). Trimming a k off the tempo might help reach the target but legs wanted more of the lesser as soon as I'd started that softening, a car up used as an excuse to slow a little more (but seeing that sinking speed dialled up the disappointment).
Kudos from the passing crew when my elbow flapped surrender in Mitchell Rd soothed a tormented mindset, but how the legs protested accelerating to catch the caboose when Grumpy worked us east to Central Kialla. Not wishing ill on others, I'd hoped others were going through the same struggle, or am I the misfiring Magna among the Murcielago's? Muzzling my gasps, grunts and groans as Boof drove the train to River Rd, he then caught a case of the 'Tina's' with "a little bit more" to the bridge. A bit of breath had returned so I could keep up with Bo's big shift in River Rd, his hurry to Boundary Rd helped by the southwester. Kel drove deja vu (last Tuesday) to One Tree Dam, Kreeky still blessed by the new Avanti advantage powering up to the pub, but that put me closer to the deep end, that thin draft from PistolPete as he set sights on a three k shift at forty. I was banking on my second turn to be less torment than the first, but Pete had delivered me to Old Dookie Rd where that southwester hit me as I hit the front for the west way home. I'd nearly made it to School Rd but my elbow got in early and said enough, Grumpy's turn starting strong but was worn by the wind reaching Central Ave. Boof did the honours of driving the last leg home, no let up on the legs but the head was happier seeing relief beyond the finish line.
28/8 Too cool for Cats.
Another bone chiller of a morning did little for the enthusiasm riding to Wednesday's whip around, though MyRideTrev was inspired enough to drag a few hibernators (Whispering Jack, BamBam and Laura) into an early exit of town to rid the rust and reacquaint with riding. Zero on the temperature gauge was throwing them in the deep end. Bo, Shorty, Kreeky, Bruce, PistolPete, Joe (not Jaques) Kel, Rocket, Superman, Boof, TrekTrev congregated in the cold carpark for the standard start at six in the usual 'them and us' format, 'them' of freakish fitness forging to the front while 'us' of spurious speed struggled to keep up till a hint of warmth in the legs and a sense of duty forced us forward. Each day the sun rises two minutes earlier, things we haven't seen for months now visible for a change ; a thick frost at the roadside (confirms our diligence, or delusion), and cud chewing cows giving us the "what the?" look. (and they're not stupid standing naked in the frost munching grass?)
That pre-dawn orange piercing through the fog cancelled our craziness though. Luck had me between Joe (not Jesse) and Shorty headed to the front in River Rd, Joe (not Jude) going a little longer and a little stronger at each attempt in the drivers seat. Heady was the solitary bike bearing west ('twas too cool for Cats obviously) and it was inspiring to see the Goat train of pain running again as we steered north into Boundary Rd. Wednesday's are generally less taxing in tempo than the Tuesday or Thursday thrash, though Shorty, Superman, Joe (not Jethro) and Kel had already taken up retirement at the rear, ushering me back into the advance line with TrekTrev ahead and PistolPete behind. It felt weird to carve through the calm of Channel Rd instead of fighting a wind, to Central Ave and it was time for driving duty again with a tiring TrekTrev to the Kinder but a powerful PistolPete to Hopeful corner. The red leds ahead of MyRideTrev and his comeback kids was bait for a charge at the ChaCha, though it was fresh enough in the low forties to restrict the rush.
29/8 Hello hibernators!
That sinister world of the sleep-in nearly got me in it's grip, those precarious moments beyond the alarm spent fighting the BeerMat syndrome till sense took over. I abandoned the ritual Thursday prologue and tapped to Friars to see which Goats gathered. Hommie, Heady and Coggo rolled up for 6 am duty, Heady not so keen to take the first shift so I treated him to a tow out of town. Belly had emerged from the endangered species list to join us at SPC as I gently squeezed the accelerator to Dobson's bridge, mindful of Hommie carrying top weight and Belly's rarity of riding. Heady's turn was shorter than 'lil Jodie's seatpost, a whole lotta huffing and puffing to the back as Coggo captained us eastward. Even Belly had baulked at advancing when Hommie took the helm, and with Heady hiding in the caboose, I was back at second wheel already. Hommie's copious draft was a delight though!
Back into hard labour at the front with four hundred metres of Old Dookie Rd left, I reckoned on riding a k of Boundary would give recovery time for some to be tempted to do a turn. Five on the five forty fling crossed our path heading north, I peeled off the front nearing the pork palace for Coggo to carry us to the highway. Heady made a second attempt in the driving seat but with speed swiftly sinking, the rear seat of recovery was reality. Belly braved a brief turn, handing over to Hommie to press on to the Broken bridges, my turn again to reach River Rd. Coggo poured some spice into the speed to the quarter horse stud, Hommie doing well to nearly reach the dip (considering the ballast he's accumulated) where my number came up again. Aiming at the bridge was far enough 'cause I wanted a tow before facing the solo stretch home, my elbow gave Coggo the lead and I rolled to the rear, Heady now a distant o.t.a. dot on the rear horizon. Hoo-roo's were delivered at Central Kialla Rd to drive the shortcut via the truck route to town, keeping an eye on the clock to keep my employer happy.
30/8 Friday in the fridge.
Getting my head around the hurt as Wozza turned up his wattage down Archer Rd was Friday's struggle, fridge like temperatures with that sort of tempo was contrary to what my unco-operative legs wanted. Superman, Boof, PistolPete, Grumpy, Bo, Rocket, The Godfather, TrekTrev, Kel, Kreeky and Bruce seemed satisfied with the speed south (or were some suffering in silence?) as thirteen thrashed to Mitchell Rd, fog scenically blanketing the fields across to Central Kialla.
The Godfather served up the entertainment (whether we wanted it or not), how peaceful the week's been till now! River Rd was empty again (surely a sweaty spin on a static bike doesn't count?), The Godfather dialling down the velocity toward the dip, suiting Superman who's still paying the price of hibernation (making mine an easy part one at the front). Part two hurried up the heart rate to match Wozza's pace, my will wanted to reach Boundary Rd but the old engine expired two hundred metres shy. We'd gathered up Laura in the rush, was she the sole comeback kid on an early mission? The Goat train of pain was running again, five working west as we slowed to point noses north.
The Wozz and Bruce combination made short work of Boundary Rd and short breaths for me, they're happily chatting away at the business end while most were maximising each chilled lung full to keep in touch. It's that us and them thing again. The ritual retirements started in Channel Rd and tempted by the tow from those driving at the front, I was joining them. Maybe the TGIF mindset is softening me? It was hardly a sprint, more like a squeeze of the throttle on the ChaCha, but it still had the effect of stretching the bunch long, the regroup on the roll to the truck route filled with The Godfather's garble.
Week 35 250km YTD 8,882km
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