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