Week 48 : Chocolates for breakfast.

Post #528
23/11 Swift Saturday.

Blessed at last with a tolerable temperature and only a subtle breeze, GiantAndy, TatPaul, The Godfather, PistolPete, Lenny, Manny, Vince, TatMat, Wozza, Rocket, Bruce, Kreeky, Laura, Temple, Trav, Bo, TrekTrev, Boof, BeerMat and MyRideTrev assembled for Saturday's sacrament. I'd braved number one grid position but a foot fumble (you'd reckon I'd have mastered cleats by now) as we exited the carpark had me suddenly second wheel to Bruce. No complaints, saved me from jumping in the deep end first.  Sure as eggs, those with wattage came to the fore, Wozza, Rocket, GiantAndy, Bo and Boof lined up to keep the speed stoked to Mitchell Rd, Manny's magnetism for marsupials soon attracting a 'roo at close quarters, the commotion short lived with all emerging vertical into Central Kialla.  With forties commonplace in River Rd, Laura had chosen a swift upgrade from the Wannabees, and like Temple and MyRideTrev, joined the advance, but sought a spot in the down line before they hit the front.

Eventually crossing from the reverse line to the forward in Boundary Rd, a long string of bikes ahead said there'd be some time before I'd reach the business end, there'd be several minutes as the draft slowly diminished and the heart rate slowly climbed to ready for the work in the drivers seat.  Rocket leapfrogged a few places to be on Bo's wheel in Old Dookie Rd, planning a bit of hurt when they paired to drive the train. Turning north at the Toaster, Kreeky and I left the lads to their own devices but Bo didn't take the bait and the gap soon closed, putting me on Rocket's wheel in time to face the breeze for Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  How convenient.

Despite his rapid reputation, Rocket didn't bite, most considerately staying level as tried to build up to a respectable rate of knots.  I got there, but the fuse was burning short way too soon, one more white post and the old engine was misfiring, damn it!  Less I go o.t.a., I gasped for Rocket to roll, the next half k spent attempting composure as the younger guns amplified the average.  You'd feel out classed if it weren't for some who'd chosen the caboose as a permanent position.  I'd begun to cope as the bunch barrelled into town, though the work in Wanganui Rd loomed and several had chosen to shortcut via Verney (breakfast a better bet than the battle to hold on?)

The list of those excusing themselves from the sprint grew longer, Bruce was single speed (thanks to lack of volts in Di2 land) but most had a wattage deficit to serve a turn toward the hill.  GiantAndy's was the draft to die for (if you could keep up with his tempo), the pack stretched thin to Rudd Rd with a moment given in the first few metres to catch up. On the gas again, the bolt to breakfast on the Boulevard was swift and silent (Strava trophies handed out to all),  coffee made the hurt go away, the babble over breakfast on energy use, the royals and Strava stalkers replacing thoughts of the thrashing.



25/11  Monday's mobility.

The train of peace was judged a touch too pedestrian to start the week so the Couldabeens 5:45 spin got my vote.  Rocket, The Godfather, Grumpy, Kreeky, Bo, Bruce, PistolPete, Kel, Lenny and Vince assembled, 'lil Tony and Cobbles along for the ride too (few '51's ?  Cats too casual?)       Rocket and Bruce started proceedings with pace into Channel Rd, Lenny and Pistol continuing the cadence toward the Kinder, and here's me thinking Monday's are a steady spin.  (There'd be time to harden up before facing the front Foss!)

The weekend's chat (for those who could spare the oxygen) made the familiar path to Boundary Rd pass quickly, working ever closer to a shift at the front to earn my keep (and a coffee after).  A long Goat peace train plied east as I finally faced the front beside Grumpy in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, my imagination told a tail breeze was assisting and that helped the hurry to the bridge (bureau said we were breeze-less), but Rocket alongside when I was half spent had the reverse effect.  It felt shy of a shift to call Rocket across early but preserving rhythm is the gospel, it saved me from going Boom! and didn't disrupt the others drive.  Pistol and Lenny crept the speed up a k or two but I'd managed to get a few extra breaths in prior, hoping I wasn't the sole sufferer. Closing in on suburbia meant the effort would soon end, a week off work meant I could share in the social stuff after, so with taste buds calling for coffee I managed a semi reasonable turn on The Boulevard to berth at the Butterfactory to feed the addiction.

27/11  It's beginning to feel a lot like Winter!

It wasn't a foot fumble but a glove glitch that demoted me from the front as six bells chimed (I'm getting good at avoiding early efforts!), Boof leading the line into Archer Rd's four degrees.  Tina, Col, Shorty, Kreeky, Trav, Kel, Bo, Rocket, Coggo, PistolPete, Bruce and Joe (not Tony) formed the Wednesday bunch to spin the usual lap, most fishing out those winter layers recently relegated to the wardrobe's darkest depths.  The pain train was starved of starters and Coggo was aboard again, Joe (not Tony) surprisingly finding form just weeks from a lengthy lay-off and Tina toughened from a mountainous weekend.

A conversation with Col on old knees protesting the cold was timely, the tempo tamed to mid thirties helped along River Rd, my turn at the front with Tina then Col to the quarter horse stud all very civilised.   A few reckoned I was in the box seat as we swept into Central Ave, I could see Rocket in fine form at the front so didn't rate my chances at all, yet the turns rolled at the Kinder then Hopeful corner, and sitting on Coggo's wheel at Prentice Rd the odds turned fairly favourable.  But with Trav, Boof, Bruce and several favourites behind I felt sure of being swamped, but with nothing ventured nothing gained I let loose with 300 to go.

The sun's rise behind helped casting shadows of those who'd follow and with a hundred to go just one was in pursuit.  A glance back found Boof was on the hunt but he'd joined the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Fossils and thrown it into neutral, coasting in second to let me taste that rare flavour of Couldabeens chocolates for breakfast. Resuming high thirties to the truck route was torture and the bolt to the Butterfactory was a big ask but a long black and social discourse to finish the ride was the perfect recovery tonic.



28/11  Position, position, position.
Weather was favourable and the breeze was negligible yet attendance was down to the bare bones of Goats on Thursday, one wonders where the enthusiasm has gone!  Coggo, Belly, Tina, Dippa, Heady, Snow, Deep Fry and AvantiAndy made up the dedicated total, the Stalker hitching a ride as he'd missed the 5:50 Cat train.  Heady and I tried a two row formation with a sedate start (and I'd reckoned Indian file would be favoured with a slim attendance).

Coggo paired with me for leg two as we guessed a tempo that would test rather than torture.  Two rows of five meant appearances at the front would be regular, AvantiAndy and Heady making brief appearances in the drivers seat while Dippa and Belly cruised in conversation in the caboose.   Eastbound seemed an effort compared to Boundary's southern course, it was one of those mornings where wind direction was as vague as a HG comeback.  Heady was now overloading on oxygen at the back but Belly came forward (briefly), the reshuffle putting me on DeepFry's wheel (perfect placing for a plan hatched for later)

AvantiAndy's steadily gaining speed and the Stalker played ball with tempo (as you should when gate crashing a peloton un-invited), Snow continues his smooth style and Tina just turns over the k's nobody can match.  Three bikes ahead laid a bait of extra effort as we breached the Broken bridges, closing in as we turned into River Rd but DeepFry made a momentary lone charge, forgetting the team he'd need to catch them.  A steady squeeze of speed had caught them at the Angora farm,  a whiskered bloke aboard an ancient Merida, a young dude on a Giant and a lass in full winter kit.  In contravention of Rule #19, they'd jumped aboard and joined in the rotation with lips zipped, probably enjoying the tow but young lass was in way too deep nearing the business end..

Snow sensibly preserved the pace avoiding a sudden tsunami, Dippa came to the fore and the ride was soon restored to it's former smoothness. We'd lost the three intriders at Archer Rd, thoughts turning to position and who'd be doing turns as Raftery Rd drew near.  It's been many moons since pedalling this path.  The plan was to fry DeepFry at the front (he has a penchant for pouncing a podium position), the huffs and puffs telling me a long turn was testing him at Arcadia Downs.  I'd reached the kink into Conrod as Coggo rolled across, hoping the turns would quicken and get me back in the advance line.  Back onto DeepFry's wheel as Snow drove out of the dip, my position was perfect as the metres wore away, waiting for the moment to jump.  Full gas as DeepFry rolled across put a mental and physical gap between us, enough to ease off the throttle in the closing metres with Coggo closing in for second.



29/11  Crowd control.

Quite a crowd converged Friday, was it weather? The weeks' end? Convivial company?  Whatever the reason, the roll-call tested my recall.  The Godfather, Kel, Shorty, Kreeky, Tina,  newbie Vaughan, Coggo, Bo, Trav, Wozza, Boof, PistolPete, Bruce, Determined Dan, Rocket, TrekTrev, Col, Grumpy and Lenny set south at six, broad daylight once craved now commonplace.

Savour it folks, summer solstice is but three weeks away! This would be a one-turn-at-the-front circuit. Unusually Boof and I were toward the rear of the bunch as the pecking order of pace got sorted for the advance line.  Akin to grandma's curtains, The Godfather's kit caused a cackle or two (a consultancy on class with PistolPete may be the cure), newbie Vaughan climatizing to the characters while Determined Dan made the best of a day off shift work.  By chance I was in Coggo's smooth and certain draft, comfortable hearing Kreeky behind as I advanced  along River Rd for duty.  Conversation toward the front thinned to three or four word replies from those who'd done their bit, unless you're Wozza, Pistol, Bruce or Rocket who seemingly have oxygen by the bucket load whatever their peloton position.  It was my time for effort in Boundary Rd when Coggo rolled across near One Tree Dam, the bar set fairly high now from the days of low thirties averages.

By the Broken bridges doing the distance told me to roll, Kreeky would be kind but Channel Rd (the usual shift distance) seemed a world away.  Convincing myself I had a tailwind (and refusing to peek at the heart rate) got me to the target, a couple of compliments relieving some of the sting in the legs.  Quite the fight to catch Kreeky's wheel as the bunch bored into Channel Rd, the relief knowing that was the one-and-only turn sped the recovery as others faced their donation to the pace.  Caution was called for a slow car (towing a fruit bin) ahead as the ChaCha loomed near, the unpredictability of morning motorists not troubling most but set off alarm bells in others.  Mid forties to Prentice Rd and a few backed away from close company with the car, luckily when it suddenly slowed to turn off.   A handful blew off steam in a sprint, the remainder slogging it out to the school for the reformation.  Ready (but not raring) for the rush to coffee, I'd caught Wozza's wheel for the Wilmot Rd sprint (scoring a trophy in the tow) Rocket and Pistol giving us grief with a bolt to the Butterfactory but that feeling finishing made up for the flogging.

Week 48      220km         YTD  12,204km  

     

Week 47 : Paying the peloton pennance

Post #527
16/11  A Tat ton.

The aerodynamically challenged wolfed down their bacon burgers, a ballet of aerobics was underway limbering limbs, some had sizeable saddlebags stocked with the kitchen sink and a flurry of last minute maintenance (one adjusting seat height?) amused me while I put a long black in the tank.  The Tat200 was preparing to launch and with numbers well down on 2018, I sided with the familiar (Coggo, Tina, DocPete, young Brian and Chilly) for the flag drop.  There's comfort in predictable company.   Maybe 'feels like six' quashed the usual bull-at-a-gate start, many were taking on the 100 but a handful would brave the 2K, so a most composed and careful exit from Tatura was a pleasant change, the eighty odd starters sorting into speed suited squads.

Coggo captained the drive into Dhurringile Rd so I shared the toil with him to Toolamba-Rushworth Rd, surprised to be already up with the lead car as a lengthy tail gathered to make use of our tow.  Tina and DocPete joined Ian (Melbourne) Justin (Toolamba) and The Stalker to drive east, others unfamiliar with peloton protocols and the meaning of echelon afforded polite guidance to keep the speed smooth and sheltered so all might survive the distance (and brag about the average speed later).  BendigoJo was on for a chat instead of a turn, Chilly preserving wattage for the 200k distance ahead, the rearmost silenced in survival mode, without the oxygen for a considerate call of vehicles behind it seems. Through Toolamba as the suns rays tried to warm us, a dozen had just got a rhythm going when we slowed to dismount for the bridge crossing. A clip-clop over the restoration of redgum then remounting to restore that rhythm quickly snapped the tailenders off the back, but I'm sure they could team up to sort their survival.

Union Rd remains rough as hessian underwear but northbound along the slick tarmac of Central Kialla Rd was such a comfortable contrast.  A little echelon education was needed for the east leg of Mitchell Rd, the Castelli/Cannondale kid happily keeping company with Chilly and BendigoJo in the caboose till the tailwind on Boundary Rd brought most out for an appearance at the rushin' front.  DocPete had water for a week and The Stalker had bananas in bulk, I was content for a swig or two and wait for the Pine Lodge pitstop to tend to the tank.  With the wind most likely against us for sixty k's back to Tat, I was careful with the speed out of corners to keep as many players as possible.  Contributions great and small would be valued by all.

A short break at the Pine Lodge Church (energy bars, cake, fruit, 'sports' drinks and H2O in abundance) refuelled and readied the bunch, and underway before the next riders appeared, the tempo into Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd was set at heads-down and shut-up, but trying to keep the group glued together.  BendigoJo charged off ahead but the body language spelt Boom! fifty meters on,  the need for rhythm paramount as the southwester blew into the mid twenties.  Coggo, Tina, DocPete, Justin, The Stalker and Ian did their bit to preserve pace, the Castelli/Cannondale kid finally fronting in Wanganui Rd, his shoulders pushing harder than his feet (straight to the rear for recovery). The locals guided the visitors into town to find the twist and turn route to the causeway track across to Mooroopna, the serious end of the ride looming as the wind played hell.  To the end of Cornish Rd, the call for single file in Ardmona Rd made sense, just five now serving duty at the front.  A risky cross of the highway by a few told me focus was overpowered by finishing, but Tina showed what smooth was in Simpson Rd and set the standard for Craven Rd's cruelty. The headwind for three k's broke several off the back, eight now remaining for the final push along Ferguson.  Tina and I did the tow truck job to town, surely spurred by thoughts of replacing all those spent calories, but with my Garmin numbers only at 98.6km, going 'round the block satisfied the o.c.d. in me (and Tina) to make it an even ton on the finish line.

19/11  Passengers and trains.

The usual protagonists pedalled to Verney's roundabout for a Tuesday tap, Coggo, Belly, Tina, AvantiAndy, JB, DeepFry and Snow were nowhere near the full crew, so where those on a comeback are is anyone's guess.  Joe (not Tony), Steve and Hayden by coincidence had converged on a separate mission, so joined in to justify two rows riding east at six.  Two days off two wheels had restored some of my energy, Coggo setting the standard to Ford Rd's end.  Our passengers Hayden, Joe (not Tony) and Steve braved the advance, so I was careful to keep a level wheel when Hayden paired beside me (the helmet's eight degree list to portside didn't help his credibility).
 Joe (not Tony) did a little gallop through the gravel turning into Boundary Rd but got back onto the black stuff in a vertical pose, stirring some hesitation in the Goat ranks climatizing to the three 'foreigners'.  Thankfully the theatrics settled and comfort closed the gaps, the regulars restoring a rhythm toward the highway while the sun struggled to warm us.

The three amigos had called a Channel Rd exit so the remaining ranks thinned to an Indian filed train to share the toil, Tina driving the long turn to River Rd.  Handed the helm on the turn west, I went easy on the accelerator to keep friendships and the bunch bonded, high thirties possible without making the heart rate do a Hiroshima. That smooth stretch of tarmac at the Angora farm made a longer shift easy, so stayed put till 200 shy of the dip.  Snow, Coggo and Belly took on the driving duty to finish off River Rd, but there was no slacking off on the shortcut to town, Tina teamed with me to keep the tempo toasty.



20/11  Poppa's pop.

A swift swig of coffee was Wednesday's substitute breakfast, an alarm malfunction had me on the back foot to reach the six am start.  Getting aboard the bike on schedule calmed the o.c.d. concerns, though the feeling of driving without fuel felt out of sorts. I guess some can't ride with the ballast of breakfast and others may feel they're running on empty. I'd probably survive.  Bruce, Rocket, Trav, Shorty, Kreeky, Tina, Bo, The Godfather, PistolPete, Kel, Joe (not Tony), Boof, Wozza, Col and Grumpy slowly filled the grid as the clock ticked to six, Tommygun taken on board as Boof turned up the tempo considerately to the bridge.  I was suited sitting at second wheel and watching the horsepower advance (I'll spare you the details of the sting in the sit site) with those desiring a draft working under cover at the rear.

Coggo was the pain train of one spinning south to the Broken bridges, seems it was too cold / too windy / to fast / too hot / too hard for any others, so his U-turn to join us had a few hold back to help him hitch-hike onto our bunch.  It was finally time to pay my peloton penance with a contribution at the front in Channel Rd, pairing with Shorty to the S bend, the hint of a south southwester needing a decent dose of determination to stay with Boof to the cypress trees.    Bruce was on the advance headed to the Kinder with The Godfather on his wheel, a perfect set-up to see what he's made of for the ChaCha.  But Poppa popped at Prentice Rd without reaching the front, diving for a draft as plenty shot by (supressing their sniggers) with hopes of a place behind Boof.

21/11 Headwind hernias and tailwind triumphs.
All those laborious layers of winter are long forgotten, Thursday's 22 degrees needed just three minutes to kit-up.

A balmy and blustery northeaster (19-30 km/h) would raise a sweat and a heart rate or two among the Goats toward Boundary Rd, but we could be heroes for the southern and western legs beyond.  Snow, Sandy, Heady, Coggo, Tina, JB and AvantiAndy converged on Verney's roundabout, Speissy yet another one late to emerge from hibernation (wisely occupying the caboose)   I took the first shift toward Grahamvale Rd, possibly out of sympathy to those worried by the wind, but kept the pace keen to Lemnos North Rd so they didn't soften.

To their credit, Sandy, Heady and Tina faced the front in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, TatPaul joining our eastbound effort while the rearmost anticipated relief on the turn south.

Blown from behind, JB and Snow got chains onto the little sprockets to Old Dookie Rd, Coggo smoothing the speed in the high thirties to the bridge, though AvantiAndy wasn't as keen to the highway.  TatPaul's puncture had self sealed (a tubeless advantage) as I scored the lead role again, gently applying the accelerator to the Broken bridges (though Speissy was now on the missing persons list)

  TatPaul's tempo tested the troops tearing into River Rd, the tail-enders into the mid forties to stay in touch.  Half a k of chasing had worn away what wattage AvantiAndy had in reserve, losing grip on Coggo's wheel and about to go o.t.a. when TatPaul handed over to Tina who set a more sympathetic speed.  Two k's cut from the tempo saved others from separation too, the wind spreading us across the tarmac in search of shelter.  Snow served a slice of speed for River Rd's last k where I departed on my usual shortcut, waging war on the wind back to town (with not a draft to be had!)

22/11   A sticky situation.
5:56 and still Friday's starters circled the block, a stiff southerly faced he who berthed first and few were keen to score the role.

Wozza and PistolPete had the wattage (and the fortitude) to front first, Joe (not Tony), Superman, Grumpy, Tina, The Godfather, Col, Rocket, Shorty, Manny, Coggo, Kreeky and Bruce, happy to line up behind.  In contrast to yesterday's nasty northeaster, a cool southwester should have been comfortable but there was little chat on the spin to the truck route.  Even The Godfather was silent, till the tailwind in Mitchell Rd got his tongue tattling.  Twigs, sticks and small branches littered the roads as challenging chicanes (a legacy of yesterdays 75km/h gusts)  but it didn't stop the social sentence swapping en-route to River Rd and beyond.  The Goat train of pain hadn't left the station today, not enough commitment to get started I'm told, so Coggo and Manny were welcomed aboard.  I joined the queue behind Coggo to serve my sentence at the front as Tina and Joe (not Tony) sorted out who should follow who.  Work at the pointy end drew near in Boundary Rd, Superman ahead was in struggle street and the turns rolled rapidly.

 Coggo played fair as we fronted at the Broken bridges, Joe (not Tony) making his driving debut in Channel Rd, sensibly short to maintain momentum.  His plea for leniency was honoured by Tina who rolled across at the S bend, and as circumstances often has it, a squad of the swift were lined up behind ready for a fast follow-up.  Rocket turned up the wick toward the Kinder as many called upon the almighty for help to keep up, Bruce the beneficiary of his lead-out as a long line laboured behind.  Heading homeward (as those on executive hours turned toward coffee) Boof and I pondered the mental state of morning motorists on their trance-like commute, many blissfully unaware of their surroundings with the weekend ahead stealing their focus (or was it the text they're sending, the coffee they stir or the make-up they're applying on the way to work?)    

Week 47 :             270km            YTD 11,984km  

Week 46 : Begging for breath.

Post #526
9/11  A strangely serene Saturday.

Really?  Feels like zero, seven weeks away from Christmas? Maybe Summer will give us a refund?  I needed to turbocharge my motivation in this temperature to throw a leg over the bike, entering the Tat 100 just a week away stirred the spirits to clock a few longer k's so I was out the door at 5:05, boldly ignoring the celcius gauge to tap the deserted New Dookie Rd tarmac.   Guessing the distance to the 6am grid kept the speed simmering, that 17-28 km/h westerly helping me to Boundary Rd for a fight against the wind back to town.  Right left right left along Old Dookie, Central, Poplar and Orrvale to steer into Channel Rd and back to the shop's carpark.  I timed that nicely, rolling around the block to grid at 5:57.    TrekTrev, Kreeky, Wozza, Lance, Bruce, Boof, Grumpy, TatMat, Bo and TatPaul converged, the absence of Rocket and PistolPete (and The Godfather to antagonise them) a good reason for a relaxed ride.  Bruce called a 35 limit (then promptly paced at 37 toward the truck route) but no stress, a tailwind on Mitchell and River Rd's would ease the effort.

TrekTrev's now whiskered and Kreeky's hatching a mo, TatMat was barking like a bloodhound and Lance's tail light was again enticing epilepsy (thankfully mostly obstructed my a posterior man satchel : Rule #29 infringement)  It's the same old circuit but each one is different.  Driving duty came due at River Rd's dip, between Bruce and TatMat had a minimum of taxation, a pleasant change from the usual Saturday slog.  Or was that the tailwind talking? That temperature incited the nose to run like a tap, mindful of the manners mum taught not to sniff.  Surely this is the last of the wintery weather?  The wind made it's presence felt at the flanks while we worked north on Boundary, the perfectly sized group (suitably sized for a worthy workout, just enough recovery time between turns and none of that rubber band syndrome felt in bigger bunches) neatly formed and synchronised to Old Dookie Rd and out to the Toaster.  

Pussycats were well patronised, passing our path at the Big Ring as our heads went down to drive into the chill, that prior almost arrogant attitude with the wind at our backs now erased by reality.  I was pleased the pace had settled to near the mid thirties but legs and lungs wouldn't do the distance my hopes had wanted.  Still, nobody was measuring turns.  Into Wanganui Rd my turn had come again, that wind and a decent stretch of corrugations was shaking what speed I had out of me.  Legs were well warmed on the spin to keep up with Boof and TrekTrev passing DECA , our small bunch a little longer cresting the hill. Thoughts of hot coffee under the Lemontree heaters stirred Wozza's speed along the Boulevard (wouldn't a relaxed roll to finish the Saturday circuit be weird?), I guess burning a few extra calories warranted a guilt free choice from the menu.  9/11, Trumpisms and rising costs occupied the chat while porridge (who would'a thought?) hit the spot under the heaters in November.

11/11  Rippa ride!

Was it 120 psi in the Michelins? The draft from a couple of passing cars? Maybe the Sunday off the bike or the fact not a puff of wind marred the morning?  Mid thirties was dead easy on the commute to the carpark, and regardless of the reason, I was relishing it for all it was worth.  It set a plus in the headspace as Bruce, Bo, Trav, PistolPete, Kel, Boof and Col converged for the 5:45 fling to start the working week.  Second wheel to my titanium team-mate Bruce, eight set forth east on Channel Rd in a fresh not freezing eight degrees with no qualms facing the front for leg two.  I'd preserved the prior pace to Orrvale Rd then paired with Pistol to the Kinder.  Hallelujah! No hernia getting there!  (mind you, it felt good to be back in the draft after)

The sun peeked over the horizon at the fig farm where I lined up behind Bruce for another drive of duty, musing a damp Dromana weekend with PistolPete, the ever increasing traffic with Col and V8 Supercars with Bo.  To the drivers seat over New Dookie Rd I could feel the energy ebb earlier, so called an early roll with Bruce at the rail line rather than tame the tempo, hoping I'd do the distance with Pistol to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  Eastbound Goats had plenty of participants  as we worked west,  a calmer cardiac count coming to me as I was demoted to forth wheel while Kel and Col towed us toward town.  Kreeky arrived from the west (a puncture preventing his placement in the starting grid) while I'd avoided the work in Wanganui, but the payback was a shift in Rudd Rd to scale the heights of cemetery hill, then to keep up with Pistol on the Boulevard till the legs would give no more.

12/11 Only two true to Rule #9.

The wind whistled through the trees and What's App pinged the retirements almost instantly.  WTF? A little bitty breeze (well, a 22-41 km/h northwester) had turned Goats to quarter strength skinny chai latte sipping, doona snuggling softies! I just had to grid to see who wasn't!  It was breezy to the golf course but a tropical 23 degrees wasn't to be missed after our miserable winter, most of the course would have the wind almost behind so I couldn't see the sense of withdrawals.  Verney's roundabout was deserted till 5:58, Belly the only Goat with gumption to honour rule #9, and rule #5 for that matter (Tina excused tackling Lake Mountain in two degrees)   Off into Ford Rd's emptiness with the wind as our assistant, I cautiously applied the accelerator to guess a satisfactory speed.  A peek uder the armpit gauged the gap, driving to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd where Belly seemed keen to stay at second spot. So I stayed in the front seat toward Boundary Rd, but over the bridge silence behind me said a slight slow was in order.  We paired in Boundary Rd and eased to spin socially, banking a little energy for the west way back to town was good insurance.  Time told me a turn via Channel Rd would keep me employed (it's a shame when work gets in the way of a good ride) and Belly was like-minded, so the inevitable arrived to face the wind for 8k's homeward but Belly elected me the tow truck and resumed his spot at the rear.  I found a rhythm at 87 rpm where the heart rate stayed stable, ignoring the speed 'cause doing the distance is what mattered. No point blowing a gasket in this situation.  Back to suburbia the relief turning north was treasured, the average speed wasn't worth shouting about but Strava's suffer score said super.

13/11 Facing facts at the front.

Joining the advance line behind Boof, PistolPete, Wozza and Rocket was jumping in the deep end early, that long thin tail of survivors in the draft hadn't a volunteer in it!  Banking on the westerly for a helping hand backfired when I paired with PistolPete for the northbound leg through Central Kialla, though I played the holding-half-a-wheel-back card to handbrake his hurry.  Begging for breath by River Rd, Bo at least showing some sympathy restraining his pace to 37 while I dredged the dying determination to reach the bridge (dried up a hundred metres shy)

I masked my meltdown sparing short sentences with Joe (not Tony), Bo, Shorty, Grumpy, Col, Kel, Tina, Bruce, Superman, TrekTrev and Lorne (a new addition aboard a BMC; young, fashionably kitted but not the panache of PistolPete).  Lorne faced the front but his energy evaporated within 200 metres, the duck to the downline saving him from certain implosion while Kel, Col and Shorty kept the tempo to Boundary Rd.   The tiny train of Tum and Coggo spun south as we headed north to Channel Rd, all the horsepower (Rocket, Wozz, Boof and Bruce) having a holiday at the back (a little tender from Tuesday?)   The westerly made its presence felt in Channel Rd, ten out of ten to Tina to tough it out to the S bend, my turn between Bo and TrekTrev to the cypress trees well worn by the wind.  Almost inside out catching TrekTrev's wheel out of the corner, recovery came quickly when Wozza's deflating tyre prompted a pit stop.  A split tyre, a tube and two CO2's so far but a $50 note saved the sidewall.  A rapid resumption caught Joe (not Tony) and Lorne napping on the charge to the ChaCha, both unceremoniously OTA at Hopeful corner as the bunch bolted for the finish line.

14/11  Goat grupetto.
Welcoming weather drew a gathering of Goats from their warm cots into Thursdays tempting twelve degrees but a weak westerly spooked HG to stay indoors.  Snow, Sandy, JB, Tum, Hommie, DeepFry, Tina, Coggo, Joey, AvantiAndy, Heady and visitor Jason clocked in for the six am countdown.

A single filed start soon transformed to an unspoken but understood pairing of two lines.  Melbournian Jason (Cannondale, Rapha, speed sensor on the front hub) blended smoothly into the gaggle, that tailwind taming any troubles with tempo.  Sentences ceased and frowns creased the brows of some as we steered south onto Boundary Rd with the wind at the side,  but JB still perched almost off the back of that pristine Pinarello, Tum tortured the small sprockets while the well-worn Charly Gaul jersey flapped, Joey's wheel buckle was in sync with his loose work-socks, Heady's lean legs still spin for all they're worth and Sandy stoically stoked the green Focus, no doubt hatching the next holiday.  The difference between the draft and the drivers seat caught me napping, increased effort needed to keep pace with Snow then Tina tested me to Old Dookie Rd.  Steadily south to River Rd (sighting ride rarities Whispering Jack and Nick slogging northward), we faced the westerly head-on, though I reckon it wasn't as painful as predicted (a walk in the park compared to Tuesday) though some would disagree.  Content with my contribution to the dip, I tucked into the draft to ready for a solo shortcut home, but Joey joined to share the load to town.

15/11  Frisky Friday.

Thoughts on tomorrow's Tat100 kerbed any enthusiasm to get to the front early, the north westerly would have assisted but PistolPete's pace suggested that waiting for the regular routine of rotation would ease me into the drivers seat with far less stress.  (I might have hardened up by then).  Rocket silhouetted the sun-up as we sped to Mitchell Rd, I got onto Shorty's wheel when he hinted a slightly slower speed.  Wozza, Bruce, Tina, Trav, Kel, ScottMatt (has he shaken that MTB illness?), Grumpy and Col rolled through as I settled into the social stuff, that faster than forecast northwester playing hell with my hopes of a swift shift to River Rd.

A k to the bridge beside Tina and I was ready for rest, speed then steadily simmered into the forties (as if to humiliate my hurry) but I guess some days you've got it and others you 'aint.   By Boundary Rd some had already confirmed their permanent place in the caboose (nothing to do with Pistol and Wozz charging toward Channel Rd?), I  figured I was softening seeking the same seat till I noted the fairly frisky average speed.  I hadn't really earned a rest at the rear but with that hundred k ahead of me I was preserving performance early, there were eight keen to share the workload at the front anyway.  Heady, cruising Channel Rd (ota from the pain train?) was collected into the caboose, glances left and right within our ranks as we closed in on Kinder corner, who was preparing for pace and who was searching for a draft?  Of course, the bunch thinned as the swift sniffed the finish line nearing Prentice Rd,  Col (running out of Ventolin velocity) among the few pooped from the pace.

Week 46        281km              YTD 11,713km  
 

Week 45 : The rubber band of belonging.

Post #525
4/11  Puncture pause'n.

After two days off, back aboard two wheels had a feeling of physical freedom but I think the mental ministrations had a better benefit.  The spin to start the week proves popular, Rocket, Bo, Col, Kreeky, Trav, Bruce, Boof, Cobbles, Kel, PistolPete, Sherls, Wozza, The Godfather and Pelly filling the grid to tap a lap and climatize the legs for another weeks work.  The mercury had failed to reach double digits so base layers and arm warmers came out of retirement and back into fashion, Boof and Pistol steering us into Channel Rd's half light.  I'd shirked an early shift at the front in favour of a gradual promotion to the pointy end but barely into leg three, Trav called a halt with a puncture predicament.  The Godfather was swift with the sledges as the fix got underway, eagle-eyed Kel on the case of finding an offending shard of glass.  The Godfather's time-keeping had us underway in a little over five minutes but barely beyond the S bend, Trav's troubles had struck again.

He beckoned us to continue but leaving one of the crew behind is not the done thing in this clan (in others you'd be left to repair alone), mind you a thick skin to endure the jibes is almost essential equipment.  Now well practiced at repairs, Trav had the flat fixed before you could say pump my Pirelli and we were on our way east with a little reshuffle of the order.  Bruce drove us north toward the pub as I followed Pelly's wheel in the advance line, a bigger than usual bunch meaning my turn was a way off.

Pelly sought a short shift in Ford Rd (reckon it's that handbrake of hibernation) so I catered to his call, finding Sherls my match to Grahamvale Rd (if I could do the distance).   Ignoring his riding roots, I kept my cadence on the cooker in the hope of a respectable turn, truth be known he may have been close to nodding off but I was thankful he kept respectfully level.  Careful to supress that growling bear in the draft, recovery came quickly when Verney Rd was voted the route to town (delays with punctures had threatened to cut into caffeine time) so the smooth sail south on the svelte surface polished off the lap as I peeled off to appease an employer. (Trav did the trifecta with another puncture in town)






5/11  Thoroughbreds & donkeys.

A fresh feels like 1.8 commenced the cup day holiday and a day off work (for some lucky ones) drew a mixed range of horsepower to the carpark at six.  Bruce, Trav, Kenworth, Shorty, Kreeky, Tina, Rocket, Bo, The Godfather, Kel, PistolPete, BamBam, Grumpy, GiantAndy, Lance, TatMat, TatPaul, DeterminedDan, BigLen, Tum, Joe (not Tony), Wozza, Boof, Col and TrekTrev converged for a Karramomus loop, a change from the same old same old circuit, though a pit stop at PistolPete's was needed for gaffer tape as running repairs for Kenworth's ageing footwear, TatMat having conveniently punctured at the halt.   That long six k drive down Euroa Rd passed faster than expected caught up in the chat at the back (while delighting in the draft of GiantAndy), memories rekindled of this route once used for the Saturday tap (that rough and thin strip of tarmac through Karramomus hasn't changed a bit!)

Thoroughbreds drove the high thirties as the donkeys clung to the rear, some salvation though beyond the hall with a slow for a pair of Skippy's to bound off northward.  My turn at the front came with the princess of poise and pace (Kel) at Violet Town Rd, telling myself that fraction of south in the west southwester (11-17 km/h) was making the job easy, then a pairing with Trav to the main eastern channel bridge where I tossed in the towel of tempo to call a roll.  PistolPete brought news to the front of Wozza's puncture at the rear, so the stop at River Rd aided TatMat to tend to his ongoing deflation.  Warmed by the sun while waiting, the test was facing the freshness when underway again, but Wozza and Rocket put plenty of heat into the legs up Boundary Rd.  Time was up for Tum and BamBam so turned to Channel Rd for a shortcut home, the bunch revising it's route direct to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd to keep to the 8am breakfast agenda.

Over New Dookie Rd and the rubber band stung the tail, mid forties needed to stay in touch with the line lengthening under the labour (the drivers end blissfully unaware).  It's that sense of belonging that keeps finding more wattage to hang on, or is it the indignity of being relegated o.t.a. that stirs the stubbornness?  Unfortunately for Joe (not Tony) the rubber band of belonging had broken at the rail line (five weeks holiday had done him no favours on fitness) so I delivered the dilemma to the drivers end where a k's calm allowed a regroup.  Speed slowly got back to a simmer in Ford Rd, two long lines tearing toward town might mean I'd avoid the front when it got frantic.  The pack divided into three to breech highway traffic, and that put pace on early for us in the rear ranks to get back aboard and ready for the Mt Wanganui work, by the time we'd closed the gap the front had thinned with the speed of self survival.  Lance and Joe (not Tony) had busted off the back so tried a Kittles Rd shortcut to rejoin, but the lure of the 8am breakfast agenda had the team slim and swift along the Boulevard back to the Butterfactory.  Joined by partners and the pedestrian faction, thirty filled seats and appetites to ponder the Cup possibilities, a quick coffee for me then off to the toil at work.

7/11  T'hurts'day.

The dilly dally over insulation needed for 'feels like five' put me behind the eight ball for Thursday's 5:40 fling, though the gallop to the grid at least readied me for the pace to come.  PistolPete, Kel & Bo, Kreeky, MyRideTrev, Col, BamBam and Pelly  turned up to limit the laps' labour to just a few turns.  PistolPete took the first turn of Channel Rd, considerately quietly up to speed, the northwester (17-28 km/h) making forties feasible.  Sitting third wheel meant I had the Orrvale Rd - Kinder leg (how different the ChaCha is backwards), the effort escalating when out of the luxury of a draft.   Bo and Kel contributed their wattage toward the S bend, MyRideTrev's turn a bit on the brief side but Kreeky stepped up to tow us to Channel Rd's end.

Pelly and BamBam turned out to be hitch-hikers when they steered south at Boundary Rd, so much for being team players! There'd be more work for the remaining.  Kreeky continued as captain to the pub where Pistol settled in for a long, smooth and swift shift to New Dookie Rd, Col aiming at reaching Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd (relegating me to the joy of the facing the headwind first on our west way back to town).  Settling into 94 rpm, 37 was the speedo surprise as I aimed at the main eastern bridge, feeling rather flattered when Bo called "ease up"  (mustn't maim the mechanic confined to the caboose).    Bo and Kel put in determined drives toward town despite the wind shear from oncoming trucks, Kreeky trimming a tad off the tempo but labouring longer as his fair share.  Col quipped "there's only two k's to the hill" to PistolPete at the highway, a challenge easily accepted by Pete, all we had to do was hang on!  Like the Energiser bunny, Pistol on Pinarello polished off Wanganui Rd with unwavering pace, the thought of respite in Rudd Rd ruined when Col got the bit betwixt his teeth.  His elbow said enough at Canterbury's roundabout, so with bravado from the wind behind I managed a swift spin to Tarcoola as a swansong.

8/11  Wind woes.

If overnight rain didn't do it, the west northwester (17-30 km/h) would whittle down the Friday field to the dedicated, so it was no surprise to find only Bruce, Tina, Kreeky, Wozza, The Godfather, Boof, PistolPete, Rocket, Grumpy and Col at the carpark for the six a.m. soiree.  A procession of power proceeding to the pointy end made my choice of delaying promotion an easy one, waiting for the natural routine of rotation to bring me to the front was favoured.  Grey skies and puddles were in stark contrast to The Godfather's somewhat kitsch kit, the polar opposite to PistolPete's panache.  I encouraged Tina from the comfort of the caboose to join me in the advance, it's way too easy to sit on the back and let your head say you can't when the reality is that you can.  I rolled the turn beside Col a little early so Tina could enjoy the tailwind of River Rd's last k yet she's tough enough to hang onto Wozza's wheel when he let loose toward the Broken bridges.   Grumpy now sat in the caboose coughing as we worked west back to town, Col hopeful that Bruce, Boof, Rocket and Pistol would tow us all the way home.  Someone tell him he's dreamin'.  The turns rolled beyond the cypress trees, Col and I ever closer to the business end while Rocket (relaxed) and The Godfather (gasped) to Central Ave.   I paired with Col sweeping past the Kinder, finding me wanting for wattage by Hopeful corner, so rolled the turn to find Wozza the man to match.  Rather than hamper his hurry, I ushered the fit fella onward which popped the cork for Bruce, Boof, Pistol and Rocket to follow while I'd become the tow truck for Col, Grumpy, Tina and Kreeky as the pack split. Regrouped at the school, the social spin back to the suburbs allowed some recovery but legs laboured into the wind to home.

Week 45       178km                  YTD 11,432km

   

Week 44 : The obstinate optimist.

Post #524
26/10  The Saturday sextet.      Another big Saturday grid prompted another split, Tum, Wozza, Temple, MyRideTrev, Vince and I separating as a sextet from PistolPete, Lance, Col, Trav, Kreeky, Shorty, Manny, Kel, Tina, Bo, Boof, GiantAndy and The Godfather.  Deja vu (last week) being blown out Channel Rd as the bigger bunch steered south, a forecast breeze had had worked up to a wind so there'd be hurt homeward for both clans.  Thoughts of the work to come westward were forgotten on the Indian filed turns out to Boundary Rd, I'd set my sights on Vince's flouro Trek and it's quirky adjustable isospeed top tube to distract me.  Funny how focus fixes on the strangest things.

 The wind from the west wasn't as painful as predicted when my northbound shift came up at the bridge, handing the reigns to MyRideTrev at the fig farm and retreating to the rear to maximise recovery till duty called again. 

Sooner than I'd wanted, we were facing the work west in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, Vince taking the first hit to Woolshed Rd where the inevitable elbow ushered me to the front. A little shelter from trees helped with my hurry though thoughts of MyRideTrev sitting at second wheel said "don't bust the bike mechanic".  The next service might get very costly! Saturday's sun on the back had a psychologically warming effect, double digit temperatures are surely to be commonplace from now.  Teamwork wore away the k's to town and like last week, each had done plenty of turns at the pointy end to scuttle a sprint.  To breakfast via the Boulevard without bursting a boiler, coffee was in order while waiting for the bigger bunch to front, great to have Liam and mum Nadine drop by to join the babble on physical adaptability, a photographic eye and the rise of parkrun.  

27/10  The Bendigo classic.

Craving different scenery, I took myself to Bendigo for their 100k classic, one of those rides I favour ; the whole entry fee goes to charity, a small field of seasoned and mostly sensible riders, great support services, local catering and helpful volunteers (rather than a massive event to aid a lobby group run by a management company taking most of the profit where you try to keep clear of hundreds of nuff nuffs and get a cheap jersey and a frozen salad roll for your trouble)

The only reservation, there'd be a few bumps in this course.  180 entrants took to the 100k version (there was a 60 and a 25k for the less adventurous) sensibly waved off in manageable mobs of 20.  Exiting Bendigo through Flora Hill and Spring Gully on to Diamond Hill Rd, the few gradual ups and downs sorted the serious from the slow coaches to Manurang South.  Groups large and small settled into the sweat and suffer or chat and tap, some like me advancing or dropping back to find a suitable squad or slog along solo.  Onto Springs Rd and a short and nasty pinch tested little chainrings and big sprockets, some consolation that this flat-lander had a few behind him when the tarmac rose to ten percent.

Refreshment stops lured many to pause but I was happy to tortoise along to North Harcourt (grateful the course skirted around the testy Mt Alexander)  A brief blast along the old Calder Highway into Harcourt then on to Faraday, I'd been absorbed into a bunch of 20 which splintered into lots of broken pieces at the first testing incline.  The long uphill toward Sutton Grange was better tapped alone, there's a hesitation to hurry on an unknown course, particularly when hills aren't your speciality.  I wasn't about to use the reserve tank now.   A westerly wind had been a nuisance till steering onto the Sedgewick-Sutton Grange Rd, the tarmac was rough on the north eastern track but speed was at least a little easier.  A tail wind on Axe Creek Rd was heaven sent, passing many battling the 60k course amplified the achievement.  I'd paired with DeniliquinTrev (bedazzled by Baum) to work Hargraves and Red Tank Rd back into Strathfieldsaye, legs feeling the labour of 1000 metres of elevation.  Caught by a half dozen young drivers, we hitched a tow for the last five k (ignoring the blinguist among them), through the lefts and rights of Bendigo's streets to cross the finish line in 3:31:00.  I couldn't rest seeing just 99.57 on the odometer so a short spin up a short street satisfied the OCD in me to clock a ton.

28/10  A post ton tap on the train of peace.

The sit site was somewhat sensitive after 100k (how quickly we soften doing the same old same old on the saddle) and legs hurt at a hint of hurry (I'll blame those hills) so a tap on the Goat train of peace was my Monday prescription.  Coggo, Brendy, Heady, Tina, Sandy, Phil, JB, AvantiAndy, Hommie and Sandy proved peace was popular, Sly and Keeno joining in 'cause Cat commitment was crook to start the week.  Brendy led leg one to Grahamvale Rd, the lack of aerodynamics keeping the tempo tame, as is the peace train protocol.  Low thirties is all I could donate for leg two to Lemnos North Rd, the long Indian file behind me saying the speed was satisfactory (seems two lines to work in pairs wasn't kosha).  It took forever to reach the rear with a couple of brief chats on the way, Snow already finishing his drive and on the way back too.  Temperature was shy of eight degrees (feels like three made it more like July) but I was comfortable in the draft and on the flat lands of home as the dedicated drove long and the shirkers short shifted.  Time had ticked away at a tame tap so a short cut via Channel Rd was on my to do list (if I was to keep employed), a steady roll homeward on lax legs would count as recovery.

30/10  Welcome stranger.

A day off two wheels had recharged this old battery so there was a bit more tempo in the tank on Wednesday.  Bo, Kel, Boof, Tina, Trav, Shorty, Wozza, Kreeky, Col, Rocket, PistolPete, Bruce, The Godfather and Superman had rolled into the carpark, BeerMat trying the 6am promotion and Cate had emerged from a six month abstinence. The pack set south on Archer Rd with a little help from a northeaster to send us to Mitchell Rd, the speed not the usual spicy standard.   By River Rd the ride was almost relaxing, a caboose was out of the question as all were taking turns, or was that The Godfather handbraking the hurry at the front?
A few faced the front that hadn't driven for some time, hopefully casting off that unfounded fear of the drivers seat.  Cate's lost no speed though her shift was short, BeerMat braved the front (albeit briefly) and Tina turned on a strong drive to Channel Rd.   Bo reached the front and got the bit between his teeth, now we were back into familiar velocities (but would that return some back to the rear in retirement?)   Bits weren't breaking off the back and there was still some chat at the back so we were way off meeting the man with the hammer but the natter did cease reaching the ChaCha for the mandatory thrash to the line.


31/10  All aboard (minus HG)

The 10k warm-up on the golf course loop achieved little, struggling to get into the low thirties I was beginning to doubt there'd be the wattage to deliver in the drivers seat of the bunch.  I'll talk to my therapist about performance anxiety, or read Rule #5 more often. Coggo, Belly, Snow, Tina, AvantiAndy, Heady, Tum, Sandy, Hommie and JB gathered for the six am start, Head Goat served with sledges as he rolled by on an early get-away.  AvantiAndy set the start speed to Grahamvale Rd as ten hurried to get aboard, Tum grinding The Godfather gear (the biggest one) to Lemnos North Rd, the bait of HG ahead no doubt tempting Tina's tempo. 

Catching Head Goat as Heady threw his elbow at me, I squeezed the throttle a little more to test his tenacity ; 'tis the privilege of enduring winter's worst to dish out a little hurt to hibernators isn't it?  Reaching Boundary Rd I handed the reigns to Snow, rolling back to the rear receiving kudos suggesting speed was suitable (Previous pangs on performance put to rest)  

Ooops! Head Goat was no longer a passenger.   I figured he was on that pondering pedal homeward again.....    Heady was now hanging out in the rear gunna's role (gunna bank a few breaths before braving the front again) while others cranked their contribution to the cause.  
Tina handed another turn to me at One Tree Dam, taking the team to River Rd where I figured that'd be my driving done till the solo exit for my shortcut home.  JB hammered the big gear toward the dip, Belly not quite back to prior form, AvantiAndy well and truly on the comeback trail and Coggo cranked consistently as always (Vote #1 the New Head Goat?)  I bid my early adieu's as always at River Rd's end to beat a path homeward and satisfy a 7:30 start at the coalface.











1/11  Friday flaggelation.

Time saved on kitting up (the long held habit of multiple layers, warmers and overshoes was ditched for eighteen degrees!) made for a relaxed roll to the carpark with a bonus breeze at the backside to get me there.  Tina, Boof, The Godfather, Shorty, Kreeky, Superman, Kel, Wozza, Rocket, Bruce, Cate, Lenny, Determined Dan, Pistol Pete, Bo, Col and Temple turned up for Friday's festivities, Boof taking charge for the charge south on Archer Rd.  Common sense and tactics paired me with Boof to Sanctuary's roundabout (there'd be a headwind to face if I left my turn till later) so I was well worn two k's later when the turn rolled.  Surprise surprise, Superman was my co-pilot to the truck route.  BamBam caught the caboose as PistolPete's pace proved to be Superman's kryptonite, those blessed with wattage now driving us to Mitchell Rd and through Central Kialla.

The social stuff occupied River Rd where long-time-no-see Tommygun jumped aboard, me gradually demoted to the rear for a brief g'day to Temple before joining the advance again.  Plans of avoiding that headwind were soon scuttled when several short shifted their turns ahead of me in Boundary Rd.  Paired with Boof at the Broken bridges, that obstinate optimist in my head set a target to Channel Rd, though reality had a hard time delivering the dream.  My involuntary gasps and groans may have alarmed Boof beside me (it's just an aged exhaust) but stubborn won the day to reach the turn, hoping I'd whittled down Superman on my wheel to get a less enthusiastic part two to the shift.  It worked.  Real respite came at the S bend where bigger breaths could be taken.  The Godfather was wasting breaths sledging Rocket and Wozza as they worked the drivers seats and that just put more sting in their speed to the ChaCha (though nearly all were rewarded with a Strava trophy for their efforts).

Week 44    300km      YTD 11,251km