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