Week 43 : The struggle study.

Post #523
19/10  Team B born.

A prologue beckoned when sleep ceased at stupid o'clock, a north loop of the golf course then a southern loop of Raftery Rd was guessed to soak up an hour.  Hopefully.  To reach the grid by six kept the speed simmering, a westerly to deal with at times and the distance was in doubt, the added challenge that there's no shortcut once committed to Raftery Rd.  Happy then that my timing was impeccable arriving at the grid at 5:56.  Ol' mate Temple had put the call out for a split in the squad, the growing population and an expanding gap between drivers and survivors suggested a steady not supersonic spin may find favour.  Rocket, Bruce, Grumpy, Wozza, BeerMat, TatPaul, Col, Tina, GiantAndy, Kreeky, TrekTrev, Liam, Ralphy, PistolPete, Boof, Bo, TatMat, Nev and Trav amassed in the carpark, though I sided with Temple, Dalts, Vince, Lance, Superman and MyRideTrev to give birth to a team B.

The wind behind was a welcomed start for two short lines to do turns out Channel Rd.  It's been a while since some of these lads have had the pleasure (and sense of worth) in the drivers seat, some may say we'd taken the soft option but there'd be more than just a shift or two on this lap.  It was Dalts' once a fortnight fling on the road bike (seems Zwift and an MTB have skewed his senses and ruined his ride religion), Lance still strobing the tail light that could cause convulsions, Temple still on tempo despite retreating from regular rides and Superman seems recovered from 'round the bay.   Vince was keeping the caboose company after his week of gastric upheaval, the wind (forgotten in Channel Rd) now making it's presence felt to the portside in Boundary Rd.  Plans were already underway to single file that long twelve k's west leg to town.

I took the first shift of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to the bridge, this Indian filed routine taking the pressure off matching someone alongside and leaving the length of the drive up to the one driving it. Not exactly social though.  Dalts did a U-turn to collaborate with the Cats, Vince now drawn out of the caboose comfort to join Temple, Lance, MyRideTrev and Superman putting in their two bob's worth.  I'll admit to peeking rearward expecting to see the A team chasing but the view was an empty road.  Another round of turns got us into town (pleased there was no talk of shortcutting via Verney Rd), all willing to work into Wanganui Rd.  A sprint was off the agenda (given the circumstances), there was enough huff and puff to the hill, a real gift to turn away from the headwind and drive the Boulevard (without inheriting a hernia) back to breakfast.  We'd seated and had orders placed as the A team arrived, kids careers, menus and coeliac disease kept the tongues tattling while celebrating Liam's birthday.

21/10  Way to start the day.
'Tis the season of "what to wear?" when the 'feels like' temperature goes under the microscope.  Bruce, Wozza, Kel, Col, Bo, Kreeky, Grumpy and PistolPete grouped at Archer's shop for the warm-up to the week, ten degrees had some braving short sleeves and knicks where others were wary in all winters' insulation.   Wozza and Pistol drove us east on Channel Rd as crimson tipped the eastern clouds to promise a scenic sunrise.  Col soldiers on despite the handbrake the holiday had bestowed on him (no sympathy for self inflicted wounds!), the weekends' drama of Liam's accident commanding the chat as we worked toward Boundary Rd.
Kreeky played kindly beside me to the Boundary Rd bridge but my tank was emptying nearing the fig farm, part two with Wozza would be trawling the depths to reach New Dookie Rd, even with a tailwind helping me. The pond gets steadily bigger for this little fish, and I ponder the possibility I'm handbraking the hurry (but I guess others are struggling just to hang on at this speed).  Supressing my gasps of recovery in their wake, Pistol and Wozz drove us up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, that vivid sun up a nice distraction from my distress.  Bruce was keen with speed on Ford Rd and I only joined the advance line again 'cause the caboose was considered a cop-out.

My number came up at the test track with Col but his shift was short, Wozza was the man to match up Mt. Wanganui and I was well worn getting there.  I turned inside out for that half k to Rudd Rd, then struggled to keep in the tow as Pistol and Wozza casually cranked along the three k length of the Boulevard at the same speed.  And there lies the real strength of this bunch. It supports all sorts of fish.

22/10  Gone Goat'n.
Slowly the mornings become milder and slowly more hibernators make their cautious comeback.  AvantiAndy, Joey and Dippa braved a lap with the part-timers Belly, JB and Phil, they in turn mustered the muscle to join the warriors of winter, Tina, Hommie, Sandy and Snow.

Joey instantly elevated his status with a strong first drive to Grahamvale Rd, Tina silencing any chat to Tamburo Rd where Snow took the reigns.  My turn came up in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd where, mindful of Belly's protocol on pace ('don't be a cockhead Foss!'), I went easy on the accelerator to the main eastern channel.  The fellowship of the 5:40 fling shot west on their craving for caffeine while Dippa drove for what he was worth to Boundary Rd.  Hommie faced the breeze on the spin south and at the rear as I studied those signs of struggle at the front that make such interesting reading.
The 'headal' ; when the skull takes the role of the feet that just won't provide the push anymore.  The seat squirm ; when quads burn and you shift forward to hammer the hamstrings in search of some sort of relief.  The cog swap ; The shift for a ratio that takes the pain away yet maintains the prior pace. (and guess what, there ain't no such gear!)  

The bottom bracket gaze ; Is it to look away from the hightening heart rate, the falling speed or that target set too far beyond, or maybe the hope that glaring at your feet make them go faster? As if!  Of course it's the elbow twitch and the shoulder drop that signs the shifts' end, there's no oxygen to spare to acknowledge the "good job", "great turn" (or if you're lucky, "animal" or "machine!") the others call as they pass by, you're just dredging the depths of pain to catch the tail and hope the heart recovers.  So many scream these signs when on duty in the drivers seat, yet some (Pistol Pete the obvious one) have the knack to disguise that distress.  But I digress.....  I snapped out of my thesis when handed the helm by Snow as he reached Channel Rd, an aim at One Tree Dam would do as my fair share, just as the sun hurdled the horizon.  Turns out I'd timed my turn to a tee, sitting in the draft for River Rd's six k length as others did their bit.  Both Joey and Tina were takers for the shortcut to town, just a hint of a breeze behind making the last six k's sweet.

23/10  Grumpy's Garmin getaway.

Like buzzards circling something dead in the desert, led's lapped the streets surrounding the starting grid in the hope of a perfect position. I'd arrived a little early (yeah yeah, there's little blue tablets for that!) so Rocket, Trav,  Superman, Tina, TrekTrev, BamBam, Wozza, Boof, Kel, Col, PistolPete, Bo, Kreeky, Bruce and Shorty lined up behind.  Yup, first shift for Foss!  
Traffic split the carpark exit so Kel, Tina and I enjoyed a sedate spin toward Sanctuary's roundabout (collecting Grumpy-come-lately, u-turning at the bridge) while the bunch played catch-up.

BamBam wold have just loved the chase on his first ride back.  Speed settled into the comfortable mid thirties when seventeen finally formed, speed still sedate (unusually) along Mitchell Rd and through Central Kialla.  Grumpy's Garmin did a dismount at River Rd's bridge so the pack slowed to Laws drive before halting as the search party got underway.  

With the expensive escapee back in custody the ride resumed up River Rd, seemingly smooth and steady on the restart but a bolt for Bruce and the tail-enders. The slingshot was strong accelerating into Boundary Rd, a few eyes watching the caboose for cracks appearing.

  Two long lines promised a long time till duty called at the pointy end, finding that mid thirties pace quite a quandary....till Bo got excited in the drivers seat.

Tempo tamed in Channel Rd (turn back the clock a few years when Wednesday's lap was a lazy one) though some were resolute in remaining at the rear.  Promotion toward the front wasn't a worry with that smooth draft dragging me along, and it looked like I'd face the front at the ChaCha till Wozza let loose at Hopeful corner.  A long thin row hung on to the hurry and a podium place looked likely at Prentice Rd till Boof did his cork-out-of-a-bottle routine.    



24/10  Thursday's therapy.

The weather warms and a raft of rides pop up on the morning radar (Hares, TrekTrev's tap, FDC's, the 5:40 fling, Wannabees, Goats, Cats etc) but with a long lap on my Sunday agenda Goats were Thursday's thearpy.  Head Goat flew by (well, above 28 km/h) the Verney Rd roundabout trying a two minute head start but Coggo, Belly, Tum, Dippa, Tina, Snow and JB formed for the six a.m. flagfall.  Berthing first put me on the first shift to Grahamvale Rd, slowly squeezing the accelerator to foster friendships and earn Belly's blessings.  Snow's speed spiked seeing Head Goat huffing and puffing just ahead, gathering him into the caboose at the bridge where JB (aboard the pristine Pinarello) drove to Boundary Rd, spreading the scent of Mr Sheen behind him.

Dippa slogged the southbound leg to New Dookie Rd, just a hint of a northeaster enthusing me to drive to the Fig Farm before handing over. (Ooops! Head Goat gone o.t.a. to plod that pondering pedal home.....again)   Coggo's shift was short, smooth and swift as usual but not as determined in distance we've come to expect, Tum tapping the turn from the bridge to the Pub.  Just nineteen days since the drama of darkness befell us turning our clocks ahead and already the sun's up half way 'round the circuit.  How delicious that vitamin D is on motivation (and how soon the grizzles will grow about the heat).  Just rewind thoughts to those miserable months of winter folks!  Dippa's elbow spelt another turn for me at the quarter horse stud, careful with the tempo as that smooth tarmac hummed the wheels beneath me.  I passed the driving duty to Coggo at the bridge, that k of recovery in the draft the perfect tonic for my solo tap homeward.

25/10  Balmy, blustery & badass!

There was plenty of "yeah, nah, but" over breakfast as a nasty northerly (30-61 km/h) rattled the resolve (and the tin fence) but a balmy 27 degrees and Rule #9 beckoned me to board the Baum.  When the going gets tough you can count on PistolPete, Boof, Bruce, Tina and GiantAndy to face the music, but Bruce had arrived in aero mode (helmetless) so hightailed home for his hat.  GiantAndy got chains onto little cogs to Sanctuary's roundabout (David Bowie's "We can be heroes, just for one way"), mindful that the roads were strewn with little sticks and branches.  Boof enjoyed the high thirties with a low heart rate (just as we all did) but the work north would be a different story.

I had the captains chair to Mitchell Rd where PistolPete took charge, the wind howling at the left flanks spreading us across the tarmac for cover.  Tina sat silent at the back as GiantAndy played warrior into the wind at 37 clicks, how handy that horsepower was to us dodgers in the draft!    Bruce, bestowed with brain bucket, arrived from his shortcut to share in the suffering, River Rd resembling Armageddon with wind and now rain pummelling from the portside.  Careful not to overlap wheels as we were flung about the road, dust now blew from the open fields near Laws Drive veiling the view ahead.

Boof drove us to the Angora Farm for my suffering to start, the longer my River Rd shift the better the chance to avoid Boundary Rd's head-on hurt.  I needn't have bothered, PistolPete and GiantAndy bolted into it at 38.  Freaks!  GiantAndy headed homeward when we turned into Channel Rd,  Bruce with the bit betwixt his teeth (to my legs lament) but his target was catching Snow, Joe (not James) and The Machine (the only others out and about to take on the tempest) at Beckham's bend for a friendly tap back to town, my legs still liquorice from the labour.  (Thanks for the tow north Boof)

Week 43:  277km                            YTD 10,951km


    

Week 42 : Suffering speed in silence.

Post #522
12/10  Tailwind trophies.

How dare the weather threaten the sacrament of the Saturday ride!  An ominous green blob smudged the radar to the east, just hanging there.  But like many, I wasn't letting that (or the taunting easterly wind) get in the way of the weekend's religious ritual.  ChrisA, TatMat, TrekTrev, Rocket, Liam, Lance, Molly, PistolPete, GiantAndy, Tina, TatPaul, Bruce, Boof, Determined Dan, MyRideTrev, Trav, Wozza, Nev and Lenny were the keen congregated in the carpark for the six a.m. launch, Bruce leading the Indian filed fanatics south as northbound Johnny-come-lately's Bo, Vince, Grumpy and The Godfather (performing a death wish U-turn) joined in.  Two lines formed at the city limits as limits were tested with tempo by those possessed with pace.  A plea for calm was delivered to the driving end in Mitchell Rd so a stretched squad could re-unite, the rare minute or so in the low thirties starting the chat and cackle to Central Kialla Rd.

Back on the gas again to River Rd, the easterly tormented the thoughts of those advancing for duty but I was smug and satisfied tucked into the draft of many with my contribution a long way off....hopefully with the wind behind.  TatMat and Liam paired in pace and stopped the jaws flapping up to the highway, Lance opted for a short shift at the fig farm to put Nev and I at the pointy end, into the head wind of course, headed to the Toaster.  Quite a change after being towed for twenty k's. Pleased to reach my target (the bridge) and call the roll, I'd hoped to make it to the pork palace alongside Vince but a heart rate in the heavens scuttled that idea short of the mark.  The oxygen overdose was heaven.

Dark blue clouds shrouded the sun-up to remind us damp would anoint the tardy, that hitherto hinderance of a wind now our help homeward.  Frowning faces of Cats struggled into the wind while we got down to swift business in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, chains dropping onto small sprockets and tarmac blurring under the wheels as breakfast beckoned.  Bo was in Di2 dramas when volts went on vacation (stuck in the little ring hardly suited the speed),  Bruce offered a battery swap on a halt at Grahamvale Rd but the bunch had no will to wait, it was full steam ahead as the smell of a sprint flared the nostrils.  Two lines thinned to one in Wanganui Rd, many clutching to a draft in the hope of survival.  Gaps opened up on the bolt to the hill, lose that wheel ahead and you're guaranteed an o.t.a.!  So for the bits breaking off the back (including me) it was find a friend to share the suffering back to town, those days of a collective cruise back to the café are history.   TatMat, Determined Dan and I had attempted to catch the tail of the bunch but a twenty metre deficit proved unreachable, we collected Bruce from his five k chase via the shortcut on Kittles Rd to work together to reach breakfast and the babble that's part of it.  Hot laps, car thieves and bike shoes proved the distraction for distressed legs, coffee and breakfast filling empty tanks.

14/10  Monday's mood maker.

A case of 'can't be bothered' needed shaking Monday morning, convincing myself there'd be more than just PistolPete at the carpark (like last week), so the mood lifted finding Bruce, Kel, The Godfather, Grumpy, Trav, Bo, Sherls, Cobbles and PistolPete ready for duty.   With Kel ahead and Grumpy behind, I lined up in the advance as the bunch headed into a northeast breeze on Channel Rd, Pistol setting the pace as if the wind was behind. After just one day off the bike it  feels like I'd already rusted, that hint of a breeze (4-9 km/h) felt like a tornado at the front.  I'd managed to keep up with Kel from the Kinder to the cypress trees and Grumpy was doing it tough beside me to Beckham's bend, but he'd had two weeks worth of man flu as a reason.  I don't think my one day off stacked up. Bruce and Bo belted up Boundary Rd, Sherls and Cobbles fitting finely into the fold.  Funny how the pairings are often twinned in tempo.  The Goats train of peace passed by as we relished the tailwind in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, that hint of help doing wonders for my turn.  Bo and Bruce played tit for tat in tempo to Grahamvale Rd as a dull day dawned, the protocols of a sprint free Monday only just observed (it's a tailwind thing) for Wanganui Rd.



15/10 Pieces of eight.

With no hope of catching the 5:40 train, getting to the Goat grid presented a good alternative for a Tuesday tap.  Heady, Coggo, Snow, Tina, Sandy, Phil, Hommie and HG assembled at Verney's roundabout, even Joey had emerged from obscurity with some sense of enthusiasm.  Heady took the lead role to Grahamvale Rd at a steady speed, my job aiming at Lemnos North Rd with a bit more perk in the pace.  (Ooops! HG o.t.a for yet another pondering plod homeward).  Snow and Tina kept the kettle boiling to Boundary Rd, the south southwester set to test Sandy in the drivers seat.  Her shift was swift but short,  Hommie's speed thereafter however, was set to commence divorce proceedings. Backing off at the rail-line gathered the group back together (and saved Hommie some hurt).

Coggo's captaincy smoothed out the variables down to the pub, the Giant Propel disc still stirring the speed in Snow.   Heady and Phil put in their donation at the front, Joey drove well considering his long lay-off and Tina was in top tune tearing into the wind to One Tree Dam.  My one k to River Rd seemed a bit short so I stayed on for another to serve a decent duty.  Coggo had held back to rescue Sandy from slipping from the comfort of the caboose, dragging her back to the bunch as Hommie towed us to the dip, Snow polishing off the last k of River Rd.  Tina (timing another getaway to the hills) joined me for the ten k shortcut to town, this time more favourable than the wet of last week with a dry and wind assisted return.

17/10 The Thursday thrash'n.
A bravado boosting breeze up the backside had spirits soaring to Thursday's thrash, but a lot of effort was spent on keeping thoughts from the hurt of a headwind homeward.  Bo, Col and Kel's return from the United States of Ammunition had refired the 5:40 fling, The Godfather, Pelly and PistolPete appearing from the darkness to partake.  Bo set the speed swift on Channel Rd (it's the Monday circuit while Old Dookie Rd is part of the "Dig Up the Road Plan for Congesting Traffic Scheme") and got a bit greedy driving leg two too.  Forties was the fashion as PistolPete towed us to the Kinder, Col performed well to the cypress trees (though he seems to be hampered by recent gastronomic training) and Kel provided pace to the S bend so my contribution could commence.

One turn with the wind up the seat-post was a bonus.  Pelly's been a long time rarity riding (and slightly less aero as a result) but drove a good shift to the pub (though that was to be his one and only).   The Godfather took the reigns over the highway while Col commandeered the caboose, the wind whipping in from the west (15 - 22 km/h) serving to remind us of the torture in store on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  Bo then Pistol drove long and strong to finish off Boundary Rd, Pistol kindly sacrificing himself to lead us west for the first k of cruelty.  Blessed by the smoothness of Kel's wheel, I sat in the draft awaiting her elbow, when it came a k later the reality at the front was flabbergasting.  Suffering is best shared they say.  The close ratio cassette is my Christmas on a stick, 15, 16 and 17 keeping the cadence cooking when oncoming cars almost blew me backward.  None of that gruelling gear gap for me.   I'd be telling porkies saying I was giving it my all, there was just a bit left beyond 172 bpm to catch the tail and I needed every bit of it when Kel called me on to MyRideTrev's wheel.  Hey! Where did he come from?  (sitting silent in the rear seat since the start I'm told)   Bo and Pistol played "any shift you can do, I can do better" all the way to town.  The halt at the highway shuffled the deck for work in Wanganui Rd, Bo electing himself to the lead role to the treatment plant where The Godfather carried on to DECA.  Faced with the front again, I found the going less gruelling, that speed was sufferable but reaching Mt.Wanganui was way beyond my wattage.  When I peeled off, Kel calling me in to forth wheel nearly killed me,  only just catching the draft as Pistol, Bo and The Godfather cut the wind over the hill.  Respite in Rudd Rd?  Don't be ridiculous! Pistol's pace built upward to the Boulevard, it was full steam ahead in the lust for latte's, at least the wind helped us back into town where I exited for the respite of a relaxed roll home.

18/10  Friday ; feels like? A fridge!

I must have overslept 'cause I woke up and it was July!  Feels like 0.2 degrees when it's barely ten weeks till Christmas? Here's hoping today is the last of the testing temperature.  Now to call a search party to find the winter woollies. Kreeky, Shorty, Liam, TrekTrev, Wozza, Tina, Rocket, PistolPete, Bruce, Kel, Boof and Bo faced the freshness to line-up in the carpark, Wozza steering us south into a rather arctic Archer Rd.  The fast were on for a chat to Sanctuary's roundabout while others suffered the speed in silence, some like me reluctant to join the advance line till reaching the rear forced it.  Kreeky and Shorty reduced the rush in River Rd by 10%  (it's not quite Queensland temperature eh Kreeky?) so it augured well as I closed in on the drivers seat but TrekTrev had turned up the tempo out of the dip cancelling my thoughts of a long drive.  Wozza was my ally at the business end to finish off River Rd, while I internally queried if it was the chilled air, the end of the working week or Wozza's formidable fastness that had me on the limit to reach those rumble strips.  Maybe the combination of all three?  Strange that Strava told me I'd only suffered half as much as yesterday.  I'll take it up with my therapist. 

Pistol and Wozza drove up Boundary Rd without a hint of hurt while I wheezed and gasped my way down from cardiac convulsions in their draft.  Channel Rd was finally found through the fog, the caboose filling quickly as the predicted pace of the ChaCha kerbed enthusiasm in a few.  A pair of leds ahead lured some labour out of Hopeful corner, Wozza stirring the speed to catch Joe (not Tony) with Cougar in tow at the school.  Speed stayed on the agenda back to town (was it to cull café company?), by then this old engine had almost become suited to the speed (but not the temperature).

Week 42      223km               YTD   10,674km

Week 41 : The horrors of lycrack

Post 521
5/10 The Saturday express.

Allegiances were in a tug-o-war at the start, the decision was made to split a sizeable Saturday bunch and I was see-sawing thoughts to have a quiet lap with 'ol mate Temple, MyRideTrev, Molly, Dalts and CatKev, or suffer the speed with the majority (PistolPete, GiantAndy, Tum, Batman, Manny, Boof, BeerMat, Rocket, Liam, The Godfather, TatMat, Trav, Kreeky, Wozza, Tina, TatPaul, DeterminedDan, Lenny and Bruce)   The lure of speed got me.   Braving short knicks in "feels like five" wasn't a problem, Rocket and GiantAndy were putting plenty of heat in the legs on a swift start into the southerly.  Determined Dan's drive drew me into the advance line, he'd latched onto Liam's wheel so I had no excuse to sook at the rear.

Father and son drove a solid shift in River Rd, Liam in trademark horizontal sit, Determined Dan pairing him to the quarter horse stud where it was my turn to reach River Rd's end.  The Godfather partnered me north, his new aero helmet not quite matching the physique, but his speed was keen to the bridges while my eyes were peeled for kangaroos (we did have the Manny marsupial magnet aboard)  Three bikes southbound at the fig farm copped a satirical spray from The Godfather (TatMat a centimetre from a perforated ear drum), the fast fellas (you don't need to be told) dragging us east to the Toaster and up to the church, the work into the southwester would be the test back to breakfast.  The sun at our backs in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd had highlighted the horrors of lycrack in a certain (cheap) new kit, revealing details too nasty to describe.

Just spend the money folks.  A decent kit will maximise modesty, keep decorum and style in a bunch and deliver comfort you can't put a price on.  And should you notice an inkling of that certain transparency on your fellow cyclust, a quiet word is to be encouraged, avoiding embarrassment for them and nightmares for others.  In the draft of a dozen drivers I was lost in a world of whirring wheels, the gas bill, how close Christmas is and the plight of the northern hairy nosed wombat was forgotten, though the sting of the speed would be remembered for a while.  A split at the highway for traffic had The Godfather, DeterminedDan and I slowed for the bunch to catch us, but the big train was full steam into the mid forties and shot by with us napping at thirty eight.

Catching the tail was mission impossible, legs would give no more and I was still ten metres shy of the tail, so with BeerMat and DeterminedDan in tow (The Godfather o.t.a.) we skedaddled down Kittles Rd in hope of intercepting the pack (made it by ten seconds)   Legs were asked the impossible again on the Boulevard's bolt to breakfast but we hung on till the roundabout.  The sprint post-mortem finally faded for chat on other bunch's etiquette and coffee and it's varieties.





7/10  Hello darkness my old friend (I have to ride in you again)
I'd considered a solo mission for Monday but darkness threw a dampener on it in the early hours of daylight savings.  A social spin seemed more sensible.  That finely tuned nerve sensed the west northwester on a five k spin to the starting grid, no matter, there'd be several wheels to draft for that long leg back to town.

Oh no there wouldn't! Only PistolPete had fronted for the 5:45, there'd be a large serve of suffering instead! Blessed with the breeze behind, we'd settled into swapping turns the high thirties out Channel Rd, reserving some sort of wattage for the westward work back.  Pistol's pace would test rather than torture though.  The bonus was my heart rate monitor was on the blink (what you don't know can't hurt you eh?) as the regular turns began to bite in Boundary Rd, PistolPete of course, unperturbed by pace.   Legs were defying the head's will, each target I'd set would have the engine misfiring short of the mark but Pete would drive a bit further as compensation. The peace train of eight Goats looked inviting cruising south as Pete and I faced the music of Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd and it's handbrake of a headwind, though my second wind came at the bridge to make mid thirties tempo less taxing.....till Ford Rd.  A lack of trees as cover left me open to the will of the wind, doing my fair share would get me to the front but shifts shortened as heart and lungs protested the pace.  The guilt of overstaying the draft pushed me to the front for one more turn at DECA but it was as short as 'lil Tony's headstem.  Pistol kindly dragged me to Rudd Rd but there'd be no rest there, the throttle stayed open along the Boulevard and the man with a hammer was knocking but hopes of a good circuit average inspired the last turn to empty the tank.

8/10  A hard rain's gonna fall.

I ranked myself an optimist among Belly, Snow, Sandy, Phil, Coggo, Tina and Hommie assembling for Tuesday's Goat lap, green was spread ominously to the west on the radar but we reckoned on beating it home.  25 km/h worth of westerly begged a blast out Ford Rd but a carefully considered first shift won me votes at Grahamvale Rd.  Coggo carefully wound up the wick till all were happy (silent and not squealing) toward Lemnos North Rd.  Belly, Tina, Snow and Phil did their bit to Boundary Rd but Hommie and Sandy missed out on the wind up their willows and wrestled the westerly on a struggle south (most of us in the gutter.....thanks Hommie!) 

A couple of spits from the sky cranked up concerns though the dripping tap had dried up by the fig farm.   The real worry lay ahead in River Rd with that wind to work us over.  Hommie hurled himself into the hurt first and soon settled into a pace less lofty, Sandy drove determined to the quarter horse stud (eyes off the heightening heart rate?) and threw the elbow for my contribution.

Surprisingly, speed wasn't a struggle, chin to the headstem, cadence in the nineties (and the head in the right space helped) and I'd soon made it to Trevaskis Rd to hand over to Coggo.  A k in the draft recharged the batteries for the shortcut home, I'd scored Tina as team mate but the heavens opened along the truck route swiftly soaking us.  With the delight of the wind gusts head on, saturated socks, rooster tails of water up the nostrils and damp reaching places better left anonymous, we swapped shifts back to town, rainbows to the left, an orange sun-up to the right and wet as a shag in the middle (but at least we were martyrs to Rule #9)

9/10  You say goodbye and I say hello.
Wednesday's southwester had me turned inside out just on the ride to the carpark, there'd be no way this old engine would be doing an early turn today!  It was bye bye to Batman today (coping with the Cairns climate will be tough on him) and hello to Bo and Kel (back from Trumpville)      Bruce, PistolPete, Wozza, Liam, Tina, Boof and Rocket formed the team, six struck and the squad spun south, me setting my turn at the front for later (with the wind behind me). 

I was definitely in division two in this company.  Weapon had missed the earlier bunch and jumped aboard as we reached Sanctuary's roundabout, feels like two cutting through the base layers en-route to Mitchell Rd.  The air of optimism on Batman's wheel switched to pessimism facing the front in River Rd, this old engine struggled with the speed and that bridge to reach was miles away.  I rolled short and luckily Liam had sympathies for slowcoaches staying with me to the bridge, my next k spent most unsociable as I overdosed on oxygen in the draft.  Bo braved the pointy end but suffering the five week holiday syndrome in silence, PistolPete kindly rolling a short shift to put him out of his misery.  Coherence had returned to me at the angora farm but by then I was content to court the company of Kel, Tina and Weapon in the caboose and watch those with wattage work the front. The southbound Goat train of pain had popped Heady of the back as we breached the Broken bridges, our fast lads kept the pace pumped up and I'd got way too comfortable drawn along at the rear to bother about another shift (how quickly one softens!). The bait of early bunch tail-lights was missing (leaving earlier?) so the west way home on Channel Rd was constrained, even putting a choke on the Cha Cha.

10/10 Everybody hurts....sometime.

A different course to prologue the Goat gathering set my tempo target at stupid o'clock, reach the Goat grid by six a.m. with the challenge of an untried route, a tailwind out and a headwind back  (banking some wattage north on Nathalia Rd to spend it south on the highway).  A crosswind east on Zeerust Rd readied me for the suffering south, road surface playing it's part in pace.  Legs were burning to reach Verney Rd and it seemed uphill till a bump confirmed my Michelin like marshmallow, thankfully rideable till under the lights of the Ford Rd roundabout to repair.  Hommie, Tina, Snow, Batman, Sandy, Heady and HG arrived as I'd finished the fix (with a minute to spare), so led the line east casually for half a k as a warm up (in feels like two) in sympathy to the struggles of HG.  Batman took charge at Jodie's ridge but HG slowly lost his Goat grip on the tail. (Another pedestrian pedal home pondering the restorative effects of pinot noir, merlot and sparkling burgundy).  Snow towed us with tempo into Boundary Rd, Tina's strong shift reaching New Dookie Rd.  Hommie's varied velocity was followed by a good speed by Sandy, my turn at Old Dookie Rd inspired enough to reach the highway (hoping that rear tyre wasn't deflating).    Batman had the lust of a long turn down to River Rd, then followed on for the six k's of River Rd (as a parting gift to Goats) while I did my usual shortcut to town with the bonus of a breeze behind back to town.

11/10  Everybody's working for the weekend.

The TGIF factor puts a positive to the day even if the temperature was still stuck in July.  Rocket, Manny, The Godfather, Bo, Shorty, Liam, Wozza, Bruce, PistolPete, Carl, Tina, Trav, Kel and Boof showed up in the seconds before six, PistolPete setting us south with a smooth build up of speed (cruising for some, cruelty for others).  Manyy, Carl, Tina and Kel found comfort in the caboose while I joined the promotion forward, The Godfather ahead and Shorty as back-up.  I'd convinced myself I had a southwester helping me alongside The Godfather at River Rd's bridge (bureau said later it was calm), matching Shorty from the dip needing the special services of a Spanish doctor though (how can he perform like that for his only ride for the week?)

Bo's battle of the holiday ballast continued, Pistol pouring on the power to finish off River Rd as Cats cornered from Boundary (the later intercept courtesy of their longer lap).  Two very distant tail-lights (Hollywood and SuperMario) prompted a pick-up of pace but the speed slowly subsided when the led lures vanished, favouring that rare ride called recovery.  You know, that relaxing 36+ average.  Ah, those days when any speed over 32 incurred howls of protest! Homeward bound in Channel Rd I had the draft of the Godfather to relax in, ever-closer to the front and ever-closer to the ChaCha of little consequence. There was a world of wattage behind me.

The Godfather had speed stable heading to Hopeful corner so I put some spice in it when rolling across, but hat moment of glory as train driver lasted about five seconds, the big engines, line astern, filing past before letting loose at the finish line.  The bunch was still mostly intact on the left/right at Orrvale Rd, a collective chat on the cruise back to town a worthy way to end the week.

Week 41 :     275km               YTD 10,451km  


 

Week 40 : The slippery slope of softening.

Post #520
28/9 Saturday sans sprint? Strange...

With a chance intercept of the Mat and Paul TatTrain (+ Lenny) , I hitched a ride to Saturday's start, finding a massed meeting of PistolPete, Boof, Liam, Superman, Rocket, Lance, Kreeky, Tina, Shorty, Travis, Molly, TrekTrev, Tum (and chum Chad), TrackStan, Wozza and CatKel at the carpark.  PistolPete played pilot on a sympathetic start out of town but were all unaware that Tum and Chad had been sidelined by a nail through a GP4000.   TatMat, Boof, TrackStan and Lenny were quick to form the advance line, so before thinking of the reasons not to, I jumped on Lenny's wheel before relaxation at the rear became irresistible.  A k into Mitchell Rd and my number came up, with Lenny to Central Kialla then TrekTrev to River Rd (enough to get me gasping)
 Sledging within the ranks of TeamTat entertained the eastern leg of River Rd, I'd reached the back of the bunch as we steered into Boundary, the rubber band effect (quite amplified with twenty in the team) almost dropping Molly from the caboose.  I slowed a little to tow her back aboard ;  my memories still sharp of being dropped many moons back.
(Oh, that ride of shame, frustration and disappointment home!)   There was time for recovery in the tow as the bunch barrelled to Old Dookie Rd, social sentences swapped now that there was oxygen to spare.

That southwester set a challenge when I hit the front again in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd with Lenny, trying to put in a decent drive to the bridge before reality told me to roll with the punishment of part two ahead. I was my own worst enemy setting Boundary Rd as a target, PistolPete kindly sparing me the suffering when I called it quits a hundred metres short.
Into Wanganui Rd and I'd opted out of the advance, the standards of speed ahead was well above my wattage.  Strangely, the speed was still at a simmer at DECA and some were questioning if they'd joined the wrong bunch, a handbrake had been applied to the hurry to prevent new pieces breaking off the back.  Most compassionate.

The spin along the Boulevard was pacey but painless, breakfast debatably as enjoyable as the ride.  Hard to pick the priority.  A certain grand final captured the conversation at the gradually lengthening Lemontree table.


30/9  A Monday menagerie.

A mild morning was as likely as a Trump truth, six degrees was chilled to "feels like two" by a southwester, not exactly a welcome to the week.  At least Bruce, PistolPete, Wozza, The Godfather and Kreeky had made it to the grid, me pairing with The Godfather for the first shift figuring he wasn't going to punish me with pace.  A squad of six promised more than a couple of turns for the thirty k course, a lesson in labour for the legs after a slack Sunday.

Bruce was climatizing to the cool after a week's warm getaway, duty calling me to the front again at the S bend, trying to keep the speed standard set by Wozza and Pistol putting temperature into my legs.  Part two with The Godfather was judged enough by the highway, there'd be more turns ahead and my tempo tank was limited.    I'd fallen into a fixed focus on PistolPete's wheel in Boundary Rd so the sudden sighting of a charging dog at Wozza's wheel caught me off guard, luckily the pooch halted in a hurry to spare us a horizontal hurt.  The oncoming Goat peace train called a caution of Skippy's ahead as we arrived at Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, so we pre warned of the pooch predicament.  That southwester trimmed our speed toward town, PistolPete just above idle as I turned myself inside out toward the bridge, half a dozen 'roo's bounding north through the canola in search of breakfast.  The Godfather turned down the velocity reaching Ford Rd, I thought I'd done all the suffering till Bruce and Kreeky copped the windshear of oncoming trucks. Wozza and Pistol turned up the tempo again approaching town, toil time for me again paired alongside Bruce now that The Godfather was at rest at the rear. Almost pickled reaching Wanganui Rd, I'd hesitated at another turn but pinned hopes on Pistol towing me to Rudd Rd so I'd get some sort of recovery.  Happily, he did. The spin into town stayed solid, work cancelling the chance of a coffee chaser.


1/10  A Tuesday tap for 10k.
Too much bunch riding might be sending me soft?  Well, that was my reason to ride at five past stupid o'clock, north on the road less travelled to the metropolis of Zeerust and back.

A change from the same old same old.  A month into Spring and the temperature is still stuck in Winter, four degrees and feels like one topped off with fog to carve through, but it made a scenic setting as the sun got ready to rise. Snow, Belly, Coggo, Sandy, JB, Heady, Tina, Hommie and HG arrived at the Verney roundabout to go Goat'n, Belly re-reading me the riot act as a reminder of the frailty of the few on a comeback.  HG rolled away on a half minute advantage (which evaporated in a minute) as Snow set the speed east into the sunrise.  Tina showed us what smooth meant to the end of Ford Rd, JB going great guns for his second ride since April.  I got the bit between the bridge and Boundary Rd, HG now m.i.a. as we set south with Sandy sitting on as backstop.   Heady's making progress on pace and Snow's mojo moved us to Old Dookie Rd, Belly's blast was brief in the drivers seat and Coggo hinted he'd turn up the tempo for his next shift.

JB on the Pinarello (squeaky clean by Mr Sheen) towed me from the Broken bridges to River Rd, so I gingerly squeezed the accelerator westward, ready to handball the blame to Coggo should Belly bellyache on pace.  With the shadows of eight behind me cast ahead I soaked up those few rare moments where wheels hummed, speed rose and heart rate behaved for a couple of k's...till legs protested the punishment and triggered that elbow reflex.  Belly, Hommie and Heady did their thing to Laws Drive, Coggo turning the team silent to River Rd's end.  Tina was heading to the hills again so was on a similar shortcut mission to me, so we shared a solid spin back to the suburbs and clicked over my ten thousand k's for the year.

2/10  'Twas tough for a tap.
Boof, Shorty, TrekTrev, Tina, Wozza, Batman, PistolPete, The Godfather, Bruce, Kreeky and Superman was a slim showing for the Wednesday tap considering the "toasty" temperature of five.

  PistolPete was vigilant with velocity to start the six a.m. launch till somebody hollered "all on!"  He opened up the throttle to Sanctuary's roundabout, Boof beside him only serving to spike the speed into the forties and squashing my thoughts of doing an early turn.  (Oh, that's me sooking at second wheel)  Bruce and Batman took a little sting out of the speed but pace had cemented a few into the caboose already.  And this is the quiet lap of the week!  A couple of k's climatizing and my sulking subsided, time to contemplate Rule #5 and join the advance.  The Godfather, gripped by the ghastly gout, eased the effort through Central Kialla but speed was back on the menu in River Rd just in time for my contribution in the drivers seat.  That east northeaster in the face felt like I'd left the handbrake on, TrekTrev testing my tempo to the dip then PistolPete (six rungs up the fitness ladder) to match thereafter.

I guess we're lucky to have a bunch where the pacey and the pokey can cohabitate.  Well, on a Wednesday and a Friday at least.  It seemed like a mere minute had passed when Superman and Tina were calling me back into the up-line, feeling the breeze at the portside bow on Boundary Rd where the Goat train (thinned to three) passed our path.  Relief was rapid on the turn in Channel Rd, the breeze that almost broke me now a blessing at the backside for our eight k back to town.  "That'll do me thanks Trev" came out calm (despite my imminent internal implosion) as I rolled across at Jamieson Rd, matching PistolPete to Central Ave driven by the dregs of determination left.  I don't know where the energy came from to hold PistolPete's wheel to the Kinder, keeping Boof and Wozza within view as they launched at the ChaCha I'll attribute to their velocity vacuum.  A slow at the school got The Godfather back aboard for a spirited spin into town.

3/10  A friendly fifty.

A new chain hummed a happy tune on a peaceful prologue of the golf course loop, seven k's of serenity before gathering with the Goats (some may say a soft option but social supplanted speed today, less I lose the 'lust' in cyclust)  JB, Snow, Coggo, Manny, Sandy, Belly (yep, that caution came again), Carl, Tina and Hommie steered into the sunrise bound for Boundary Rd, an east northeaster (unnoticed at the Verney Rd grid) causing heartache to those facing the front (Carl's count at 170 bpm).  Short turns worked to ease some effort till pointing south, speed now steadily brewing in Boundary Rd.

Sandy baulked at advancing with concerns on her cardiac count, but I spurred her into the drivers seat suggesting she ignore the numbers (she could still talk at the front so was well short of her limit).  Tina and Coggo turned up the wick to River Rd, what started as a relaxed ride now had a bit of spice to it.  JB and I fronted for duty while westbound, but his sentences were shortening by the Angora farm and rolled across.

Time allowed me the rare chance to do the full circuit, Manny and Hommie dragging us to Mitchell Rd where Sandy withdrew to the caboose.
Carl was still stepping up for duty and Snow was primed for pace, Hommie wasn't saying much and I'd scored Coggo's draft as we worked to the highway.  Speed was getting serious by Galbraith's gate, Carl, Hommie and Belly had dipped out on driving and the turns were turning shorter and swifter.  JB and Snow called it quits as Conrod straight came into view, just Manny, Coggo and I left to labour the k to the finish line, but line honours didn't seem to matter, caffeine was the trophy back in town.

4/10  A headwind hurry.

That divide between the warriors of winter and those hurting from hibernation certainly isn't closing (I'll rank myself as able to hang on to the hurry and too stubborn to slip to the slow) so it was no surprise to find the familiar faces of the fast (Bruce, Shorty, Kreeky, Tina, Rocket, TrekTrev, Liam, Superman, PistolPete, Trav, Wozza, Batman, Boof and The Godfather) assembled for the six a.m. spin.  The headwind hadn't hampered Wozza and Rocket driving the bunch swiftly south, I'd done my ride research to start midfield to time my turn at the front with the wind behind.  Even so, TrekTrev was in fine form and kept my speech silent to River Rd's dip, Liam (with the utmost respect for his elders) dawdling beside me till my legs would give no more.

We should be grateful rather than grizzle that the quick push us out of the comfort of cruising and show just what's really in us. That slippery slope of softening is closer than we think, just look who's slid down there this year! Forty was fair in Boundary Rd, given the wind assistance from behind, but there was no let-up in Channel Rd with the wind cutting in from ten o'clock.  The procession of pace setters advancing for duty quickly called it a day for me, joining the survivors Shorty, Tina, The Godfather and Superman as rear carriages to the train bound for the ChaCha.  Wozza let loose at Hopeful corner and strung the line long, the bunch mostly in one piece reaching Orrvale Rd to enjoy the oxygen overdose to the school (and some still silent to the truck route)  

Week 40     296km                        YTD 10, 176km