That tempo tradition.

Post #557
25/7  Fostering fastness.

The reasons to sleep-in had almost smothered me, the alarm had gone off to another wintery morning and the warm bed made a convincing argument for the affirmative, but the sanctity of Saturday's ride beckoned.  All those layers in preparation for the cold seemed superfluous when facing the outdoors, am I climatizing to the cold when 2 degrees feels bearable?  It seems others had.  Bruce, Wozza, Bo, Tina, Rocket, Boof and Grumpy had converged on the carpark, great to see Determined Dan and TatPaul emerging from covid confinement to join the clan.  The social stuff ceased at 6, speed now the first item on the agenda as Boof led us south.  I was hoping high 30's would soon settle when those of lesser horsepower hit the front, but a headcount identified few of fairer fitness. 

Grin and bear it Foss, today's tempo can only foster fastness!  Wozza demonstrated a long drive staying at the helm to River Rd, his effort rubbing off on Determined Dan to drive beyond the dip.  Better-late-than-never Shorty had short-cut to River Rd and jumped aboard, TatPaul's turn was brief and Tina seemed satisfied in the caboose.  Rocket's rush to reach Coach Rd saved me the trial of the easterly wind head-on though it was no cake-walk for me to drive to the Broken bridges.  Kudos eased the pain as Bruce spun his shift to the highway.  Now, do I try another turn or succumb to softness by hanging on?
Quick calculations estimated my next effort would have that easterly in my favor on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, so I joined the advance for a second slice of suffering.  Wozza made Old Dookie Rd and it's headwind look easy with his swift shift to the Toaster, my head-space happy knowing a tailwind to town would lessen the stress, even if speed was sustained.
Shorty had teamed with Tina at the rear, my legs almost adjusted to the tempo by now though I wondered about the wattage needed to make a decent contribution at the front.

Rocket's diminutive draft dragged me to Lemnos North Rd, my turn into Ford Rd had the willpower to reach Grahamvale but only the wattage to get half way, Bruce could manage the rest....and then some.  Wanganui Rd had the regular rush but was minus the sting of the sprint, Grumpy finding his red-line approaching Mt.Wanganui but the compassionate cruise into Rudd Rd allowed him to get back aboard for the dash to the Lemontree.  Those heaters helped the thawing process while words on winters' tax on Cats, slippery conditions and the popularity of burnt banana bread punctuated breakfast.  Better than sleeping-in any day.

27/7  Solitary confinement.
A lone lap was on my list for labor on Monday morning, the repetition of Archer, Mitchell, River, Boundary and Old Dookie Rd was sending me dizzy and setting my own speed would be as good as a holiday.  A southwester assisted passage along Wanganui and Ford Rd's but it was odds on there'd be a payback for the return home.  A distant red led flashed 'come-catch-me' but the temptation to chase was quickly over-ruled by the need to preserve power for the windy westward leg back to town  With abilities artificially amplified by that breeze up the bum (28 km/h worth boosted bravado) the mind wandered to days of old when the hospital bunch would bore down here at full tilt while Killer, Robbo, Bomber or TheMachine tested our worth.

Clear memories of glancing off the side of a stampeding steer one evening too.  But back to reality reaching Pine Lodge North Rd, that wind wanted to blow me across the border (without a permit!).  I'd ummed and ahh'd the course home for a while, opting for the New Dookie Rd course as the road less traveled.  Something stirs in the subconscious with a wind in your face, an "I can smash this" attitude till reality bites a few hundred metres later.  Then the angry bit kicks in.  That lasts for a while but gradually the signals from a percolating heart rate, jellied legs and bursting lungs force the inevitable gear change just to maintain a miserable speed.  Something's wrong with the Garmin,  I must be doing more than 30, surely?  Commonsense had got to me by Lemnos Rd, giving in to the fact speed vs survival had become a very delicate balancing act, contentment (albeit regrettable) that 29 k's was the speed to see me home without a hernia. Careful not to spice up the tempo when a little shelter from trees eased the pain, I took the chance to let the heart holiday from the red-line for a few moments....I might need to visit there again! More shelter in town couldn't have come sooner, the brow unfurrowed, gasps subsided and legs weren't so angry anymore.  I wondered what would it have been like with the bunch?

28/7  Oh, the woes of wind !
Taking the easy way (east on Ford and west on New Dookie) almost avoided the woes of Tuesday's southerly, those mere 1900 metres of Grahamvale Rd were ample punishment on my prologue to the 6am spin.

Conditions had Cats cowering, just 2 leaving Notre Dame as I guessed what Goats may brave the breeze.  Coggo, Sandy, Hommie and Heady had assembled at Friars, the short yarn on Strava's cyber attack till 6 bells signaled a spin east.  Coggo took the task of 1st shift, the cautionary call to halt for traffic at Doyles Rd ignored by Heady (but he was happy to resume his rear seat when business resumed toward Dobson's.  Please explain?!)   Coggo handed over at the bridge to give me the shift to Central Ave, what luck to be sheltered from the 28k's worth of SSW'er by the line of trees, so I was careful to maintain Coggo's opening speed and not whiplash the back.  Heady's appearance at the front was fleeting, Hommie took the helm to School Rd then relented the drivers seat to Sandy (at least she'd be spared Boundary Rd's head wind on her first turn)   A proper caution was observed as Couldabeens cornered into Old Dookie Rd, a far more respectful display than the shame of a fortnight ago.   Sledges were swapped of course to keep the occasion sacred.  Coggo set the perfect pace south, smoothness making the draft a delight where even Heady held on.  For a moment I thought Coggo was dragging us all the way to the highway, but at the bridge his elbow suggested I take that one for the team.  I passed the drivers role to Hommie over the highway to steer my solo path home, blown about on the open stretches of Channel Rd to town but that tailwind home was heaven. 35k's of wind woes just to enjoy 6k's of tailwind? Weird isn't it?

29/7  Trial by tempo.

I'd just started warming to 9 and 10 degrees and the cold came back to kick start Wednesday with 3.  At least those wearing winds had subsided!  Bikes circled the block like buzzards, most attempting to avoid the first call of duty in the number 1 grid position.  Boof, Wozza, The Godfather, Kreeky, GreatScottSteve, Kel, Bo, Tina and Rocket were used to the temperature, Trav and Liam pondering why they returned from sunny far north Queensland.  5:40 tolled and Wozza led the 11 south but surprisingly threw an early elbow to Boof to take over the first shift duties.  My turn at the front moved up the "to do" list a bit faster than expected.

Boof drove to Sanctuary's roundabout where it became my turn in the front seat, what luck a truck broke the breeze to give me the impression of a good drive.  The slightest hint of a SSW'er was having a big handbrake effect.  Just as legs labored, a passing car helped to lift my game, reaching the truck route without blowing a head gasket.  The Godfather's turn was most manageable in the draft but I was predicting a spike in speed when certain players got to the front.

Liam proved his pace in River Rd so it was pleasing to see Tina taking on the task soon after, Bo turned up the hurry but that was just to warm us up for Rocket's rush to finish off River Rd.   That came close to the limits for a few.  GreatScottSteve did a big drive of Coach Rd to the highway and Wozza made amends for his short shift in Archer by dragging us all the way to Old Dookie Rd.  I wasn't getting out of a second turn today as Boof took the reigns west toward Central Ave, fog was closing in to vex vision but my focus was sharp on Boof's wheel in the hope of holding on. He barely flinched as a rabbit bolted across his path.  Great captaincy. The call of car at Central Ave was my savior, a moment to top up on oxygen before heading the field toward town.  I was pleased to get back to the prior pace but the old engine wouldn't take the revs for too long, handing the task to The Godfather at Dobson's bridge to take us to town, recovery at the rear an easy ending.

31/7  Frozen Friday.
Facing a frost was a fraction easier knowing there'd be other crazy ones ready to spin a lap at the Archer St shop....well, I hoped there'd be some!  GreatScottSteve, Joe (not Tony), Kel, The Godfather, Bo, Bruce, Tina, Kreeky, Wozza, Boof and Grumpy gathered at the grid, proving that cold and commonsense doesn't mix, but there was a smug satisfaction we weren't softening.

The fraction of warmth found sitting stationary at the start line was quickly lost as Bruce opened the account into Archer Rd, spinning legs and adrenaline our only heating as a dozen drove south into zero degrees.  Bruce halved the stretch to Sanctuary's roundabout, Grumpy putting the finishing touches to leg one where Wozza kept the squad silent to the truck route.  As usual the swift were in sequence to keep pace percolating for a while, Boof taking us to Mitchell Rd and GreatScottSteve heading the charge to Kialla Central.   I had faith in Kreeky, Tina and Kel ahead of me to tame the initial rush a tad so I'd have something in the tank for my appearance at the business end. 

I gained a breath or two during Kreeky and Tina's drive a bit beyond the dip, Kel adding a couple of k's to the per hour on her super smooth spin to the quarter horse stud.  That'll do me nicely, 1500 metres left to Coach Rd and without any wind, I'd reach it without bursting a boiler.  I hope!  I rolled rearward for recovery as Bo bolted toward the Broken bridges, it was only a couple of k's quicker that my effort, but it felt like warp speed catching the caboose.  Ah, the lust for larger lungs!  All had done their bit by the bridge, round two commencing for many but a few privileged by position were gifted a one-and-only turn.  Wozza's signature shift from the highway to Old Dookie Rd kept legs and lungs busy, Grumpy and GreatScottSteve continuing that tempo tradition all the way to Central Ave.  We arrived at peak hour (3 cars approaching) so the bunch's tail halted for safety's sake, the majority who'd got through cruising for a few hundred metres (a bonus to the breathless) till the pack regrouped. The Godfather toured us to town, Joe (not Tony) serving a swift finish to SPC.

This week  228 km            YTD  5,982 km
 

Trial by temperature.

Post #556
The society of the swift.

Making up for lost time was the Saturday morning worry, Rocket's puncture at the grid had delayed the 6am launch and with the field heavily weighted with wattage (Wozza, Bruce, Bo and Boof), hard labour was likely on the lap's list.  I'll be so bold to rank myself in division two (downhill with a tailbreeze) and today's numbers were thin; Tina, Joe (not Tony), The Godfather and I were outnumbered.  Visitors Pickles and another unknown Cat probably didn't get voting rights.  I should at least attempt a turn (despite being hopelessly outranked), so sat on Bo's wheel as Boof set the Saturday spin south.  Was that an easterly niggling at the portside?  Just my luck I'd face it at the front. The opening k's were relatively kind, it was more than a tame little tap but well shy of a race on the rivet.  Bo had dragged me to River Rd's bridge, the reality of that easterly with 1 degree of cold clamping the lungs cancelled plans of another turn before I'd finished my first, all reserves spent reaching the dip.  There's not much pleasure in just hanging on the back but truth said it was my only hope staying with the pack.   Joe (not Tony)'s attempt in the drivers seat had the same result, only shorter.  Tina had the sense to stay put and the visitors had yet dared to advance.

The Godfather eased the pain of the pace by a couple of k's in the hour when he took a turn, but reaching Coach Rd he'd berthed permanently at the back. With the wind no longer our labor, tempo rose relatively of course, five fit lads swapping sessions of speed while the "passengers"  dug deeper into their limits.  The unknown Cat joined the advance in Old Dookie Rd while Bruce spun his speed to the Toaster, I was already readying my head for that trial of tempo with a tailwind expected in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  Being the gate keeper between the driving engines and those resolute at the rear, I felt duty bound to keep an eye out for bits breaking off the back, the line lengthening out of corners and crossing intersections.  I did find a positive though, first light's arriving sooner, although it's a long road till warmth comes with it.  The tarmac blurred under the wheels and temperature zeroed, huffs and puffs from laboring lungs pumping little clouds into Ford Rd, steam train-like.  The good news was there was no turn at the front to do and we were closer to coffee, it was just that never-weakening velocity to endure!  Concerns for those at the back were now ditched, it was all about me hanging on as Wanganui Rd loomed large.  Joe (not Tony) had taken Verney Rd as his exit from exertion, The Godfather fading with problems of a posterior nature.   More than a metre off the wheel ahead would spell certain o.t.a., so determination kept me close to the draft of the 5 still driving possessed to the hill.  Tina had held fast and we both risked easing off the throttle for a moment into Rudd Rd, but full gas was called on for the dash to the cemetery and beyond to the Boulevard.  I chose the Butter Factory this week as base for breakfast, great to catch up with PistolPete (what an amazing recovery...but a long road still ahead), Jen, Col and Kel were there too to deliberate instant turf, magnificent memories and Henry Ford's genius (and eccentricity).  Thawed,fed and socially satisfied, the hard part was a frozen commute home.

20/7  Wind worn.

A westerly whipped in to chill the bones and accompany the 4 degree Monday morning, just to make sure winter wasn't forgotten.  Attendance at the grid reflected the conditions, just Rocket, Bruce, Kel, Wozza, Bo, Tina and Kreeky arriving for the 5:40 fling. Best laid plans of scoring a turn at the front with a tailwind came to nought, Bo had the pleasure of the breeze up the bum in Mitchell Rd, I got battered at the left side on the north leg to River Rd, thank heavens that passing car offered temporary relief.  Kel lucked the tailwind to River Rd's bridge but made us work to get there, nice to see Tina driving the train to the dip.  Kreeky's a bit rusty on his return but someone sharing the load shouldn't be sneezed at.   Is that line-up of Bruce, Rocket, Wozza and Bo by chance?  The likely-hood of all that wattage line astern seems almost orchestrated.  Not that I'm complaining, they're driving us faster than we'd attempt, left to our own devices.

My chance of avoiding the wind was slipping rapidly as Wozza drove fast and far to the highway, Rocket repeated that determination to Old Dookie Rd and Bo burnt me at 2nd wheel with his bolt west to School Rd. That headwind was meant to slow him down!  You know there'll be a tough turn ahead when it takes 50 metres to get past the one who's flicked the elbow, but now's not the time to give up.  Like wrestling the bear, you don't stop when you're tired, you stop when the bear is tired!  That theory worked for a while, legs and lungs worked at their limits to the rumble strips but an oncoming car forced the rough way through them.  That slight drop in pace was the undoing, legs wouldn't return to the prior pace and the head caved in to the signals of stress. Oh well, I'd nearly reached the expected end of the shift.  Kel, Tina and Kreeky braved the drive into town, the wind as wearing on them as it was on me.  I wasn't the odd one out.  Bruce turned up the tempo to SPC (just in case legs were lax?), my craving for a red light answered at High Street for a few seconds of calm. 

21/7  AHead behind.

Winter was wearing me down.  Thoughts of half an hours prologue was easily over-ruled by another coffee with breakfast, yet another icy morning cooling my heels. A slow cruise into town found  Heady (from the depths of obscurity) fronting Friars , his comeback must be serious to turn up mid winter, though he wasn't so serious about leading the bunch out of town. Coggo saved him that role.  Snow, Hommie and Sandy followed, trying to work up some warmth as a west southwester turned the "feels like" down to -0.3.  Coggo's elbow put me at the front at Dobson's bridge for a steady tap to Central Ave (sticking to the guidelines of the Royal Society of the Prevention of Cruelty to Heady).

Snow did the tour to School Rd, Heady next in line, putting in a very short shift that left him speechless.  Hommie was remarkably restrained on his turn to Boundary Rd,  Sandy putting her head down for the southern spin to the fig farm.  Coggo took charge but the yell went out that Heady had gone o.t.a.  This was going to be a rather quiet ride.  The idle toward the bridge allowed Heady to crawl back aboard, Coggo careful on the gas pedal to the highway to hand me the helm.  Time was definitely against me by Channel Rd so I  hollered my hoo-roo's and exited stage right.  Darth Vader's absence eased the stress, today's quiet tap a change from what seems like full throttle on most laps.  Age catching up with me maybe? The mind could go for a wander on the solo spin home, soaking up the serenity that's rarely experienced during a working day. How calming that chorus of carbon on tarmac is.


22/7  Suffering satisfaction.

Although it's not quite armour plating, rolling out on new tyres and tubes Wednesday morning felt secure, at best I'd be spared the puncture predicament for a week or two?  New rubber at full pressure hadn't helped the speed though, it was quite a push to keep a reasonable speed to the shop's car park.  A hint of a southerly was my enemy.  Boof, Wozza, Bruce, Rocket, Col, Kreeky, Tina, GreatScottSteve, Bo and Kel had tolerated the temperature (1.7 degrees) to turn up for the mid-week spin.  I hadn't given a thought to position as the team rolled out south, settling roughly mid-field between GreatScottSteve and Kel was more within my league as Boof, Rocket and Wozza showed how wattage works early.  GreatScottSteve scored the drivers seat for Mitchell Rd (meaning I had the northbound leg to River Rd), his pace somewhat conservative toward Kialla Central (a bit battered from hitting the deck Sunday).  Despite the quieter introduction to the front, I still found speed the struggle, it didn't help seeing the target a cruel 2 k's away.  Maybe I am the Lada among the Lamborghini's?

Kel's smoothness was next on show, so I had a standard to set, although it's hard to relax the thoughts (thereby smoothing speed) while legs and lungs are working overtime.  I can't have done too bad, there were acknowledgements in the affirmative as the pack passed me while Kel captained to the bridge.  Tina drove a decent follow-up to the dip, then Kreeky led toward the quarter horse stud.  Hey, this was a carbon copy of the Monday's procession ; gives credence to the theory that classes collect?  Bo took the tempo by the scruff of the neck to finish off River Rd, Col doing the northbound duty to the Broken bridges.  Hang on for the horsepower folks, the determined ones were about to face the front (and a light breeze was going to help their hurry).  Plenty of performers were ahead of me so I'd be spared another turn of toil, and there was just enough spirit within to hold on for the next 10k (it'd be a far longer 10k to ride it solo)  As much as the speed stresses the lower classes, division 1 doesn't complain.  Those of weaker wattage wind up the benefactors, we were back to town faster (and fitter?)

24/7  'Cause it feels good when you stop!

Why was I doing this?  To foster fitness? Maybe some sort of weird fetish for fitness? Because others were doing it? Whatever the reason, serious doubts arose as Friday's feels-like minus 3 bit hard, snap freezing the few exposed millimetres of skin on the cruise to the carpark.  What would it be like at speed?  Would others be as serious (or should that be silly?) as me?  Yep, Bo, Bruce, Boof, Rocket, Wozza, Kel, GreatScottSteve and Joe (not Tony) had turned up for a trial by temperature too.  Division 1 (Boof, Bruce, Wozza and Rocket) drove us south to "warm" us of weaker wattage for the first few k's, some doing double shifts (to inflame my inadequacy?), but I'd be claiming a senior citizens discount when I made an appearance the front.  Rocket's long drive to River Rd's dip (and his low aerodynamic factor) had me nearing the red line before I'd even faced the front (and it's freshness). 

I hadn't set a speed or a target to reach, and I didn't dare look at the Garmin figures of an impeding implosion, but dug deep toward the quarter horse stud, giving the elbow to Joe (not Tony) as heart failure felt moments away.  Joe kept the pace up, but like me, found it's maintenance the hard part, handing the hurry to GreatScottSteve then retreated to the rear to thaw his eyeballs.   Bo added a couple of k's to the hurry to Coach Rd, the line-up of division 1 behind him guaranteeing a tow back to town.  The long drives ahead were swift yet smooth, vision difficult at times as fog steamed the specs (I prefer my eyeballs unfrozen).  Wozza and Rocket worked us west on Old Dookie Rd to town, toes and fingers now numbed but a strange sort of satisfaction happening in the head.  The pleasure of a quick lap? The TGIF factor? Nah, it was the "feels good when you stop" syndrome!

This week 229 km      YTD 5,754 km     
 

The toothpick factor.

Post #555
13/7  The dream draft.

I should thank a wet weekend for two days r & r, I just hoped one of those r's stood for recharged. Was flat as that carters hat on Friday, though the craving to turn a pair of wheels was strong by Monday.  By chance, a little form was found rolling out the driveway, but it was soon spent fighting a stiff southerly all the way to the starting grid at the south end of town.  At least I'd get a tailwind home.  Real horsepower had lined up at Monday's starting line, Rocket, Wozza, GreatScottSteve and The Machine were rather formidable company to keep, so the kindness of Kel, Col and Bo was being counted on.  Bo provided the early entertainment with a puncture repair (well, Bo fiddled and Kel fixed).  The comedy finally finished and Wozza led the line into Archer Rd, no amount of foot fumbling was going to drop me down the line, I'd found myself 4th wheel with Rocket and The Machine ahead, the others more keen to be at the rear avoiding that headwind.

Wasn't I in the deep end!   I needn't have feared facing the wind behind all this wattage, their fitness easily coping with the 6 k stretch to Mitchell Rd, all I had to do was hang on.  Time for me to measure up came eastbound to Kialla Central, just a 2 k drive but being belted by a rather boisterous breeze across the right flank.  A handbrake on the heart rate would have been handy.  The Godfather scored the tail wind to River Rd and he made my turn look good by preserving the same pace.  I was guessing GreatScottSteve would change that.  Stacked across River Rd's tarmac (after a little prompting from the rear) lessened the labor for the tail end, Kel and Col oddly in permanent caboose residence. Sitting in the slipstream of The Machine brought comfort, smoothness and predictability, despite the heart hammering into the midst of zone 4, Bo now in the drivers seat but conforming courteously with pace to Coach Rd (maybe the CO2's lack lustre pressure hindered his hurry?) 

With Wozza, Rocket and The Machine ahead (and likely to drive long), I prepared for punishment on my next shift, probably to be in Old Dookie Rd westbound to town.  Facing the front when others don't boosts a bit of bravado though.  Of course Wozza worked us all the way to the highway,  Rocket rapid to Old Dookie, so as The Machine sped smoothly to Central Ave my moment came due again.  The call for calm as traffic split the pack let me stock up on oxygen.  There was only a k worth of wattage left in this old tank, so the elbow went out to The Godfather at Dobson's estate to take us to town.

14/7  Hare-brained.

A little to and fro the streets soaked up 10k as an alternate Tuesday prologue, but I was betting it'd be the same old players fronting Friars mid winter.  Yup, Coggo, Sandy, Belly and Hommie had lined up for the 6am spin.  Coggo took the first shift as I assumed the position of 3rd wheel behind Belly, absorbing the aura of his awesomeness as we steered the streets out of town.  Coggo drove us to Dobson's bridge, a chilly south southwester reminding us Winter was far from over.  Belly took his turn to Central Ave in a dynamic display of driving (I hope the cheque's in the mail by now Belly!), all I could do was dream I had a tenth of his muscular superiority taking the lead to School Rd (don't tell anyone but there was just enough west in that south southwester to guild my shift).  Hommie headed the four to Boundary Rd (seems Sandy was to be handed the headwind), the southbound string of the 5:40 brigade and two cars following looking likely to intersect us at the intersection.

Most had called a halt, but Hommie was in a hare-brained head-space rolling into Boundary Rd, earning a honk (deservedly) from the passing car.  Heaven help all had that car overtaken a moment sooner. The consequences don't bear thought.  All that effort from those who've built an image of respect on the road undone in an instant.... 
Coggo took the captains role south to the bacon barn, Sandy stoically driving to the pub despite a fading speed.  Belly's 2nd shift started beyond the highway but time (as usual) had me peel off on a Channel Rd exit, hopeful Darth Vader was having a sleep-in.  The headlight set at max showed nothing lurking in the table-drains (but I spiced the speed anyway), a keen eye kept on Rabbit Row (the S bend to Beckham's) for other creature discomforts. Relief was sighed reaching the cypress trees though a niggling knee begs thoughts that the old engine is showing it's age.


15/7  Now should be the winter of our discontent.

The spec of Sanctuary's roundabout lay in the foggy distance and I was the sucker taking the first shift.  Gotta do it sometimes I suppose. I was just hoping too many hadn't dropped off to sleep behind me.  Luckily, I'd avoided cardiac arrest reaching the roundabout and retired to the rear for recuperation but Tina called me in to second-last spot, 'cause she had command of the caboose.  Kel took the lead to smooth our passage to the truck route, Bo doing the business to Mitchell Rd by which time my edges weren't so blurry anymore.  Heading eastward confirmed my prior senses of a south southwester.  Wozza made the tarmac blur to Kialla Central, The Godfather again scoring the tailwind to River Rd. (had he made an offer to the weather makers that couldn't be refused?) 

Bruce set the standard for the first 2k's, I'd settled in on Joe (not Tony)'s wheel in some sort of comfort despite a heart rate still in the heavens.  Col's shift was short, Rocket then in the driver's seat to drag us to Coach Rd where I realized another shift was about to fall due for me.  Joe (not Tony) had the task to take us north, his elbow prematurely ushering me to the front.   I made it to the Broken bridges (just) as the head signaled surrender, soaking up the smoothness as Kel captained to the highway.  The educated guess was I'd done my last turn, meaning I needn't save any wattage for another, I could spend all on hanging on while Wozz and Bo added spice to the speed. The Godfather blurted "Have a look!"rather than committing to halt at Central Ave for an oncoming car.  It split the pack, most preferring to balk rather than be buried.  The bunch had reformed by the bridge, leaving The Godfather to tow us to town, the sedate navigation of the streets to the Butter factory a comforting finale.  Still a bit jumpy in traffic.

16/7  Thursday therapy.

Restitution was required.  I was suffering the side effects of keeping quick company, so a quiet roll was my Thursday therapy, less the lust to ride fades.  Some may question the effort to suit-up in all those layers just for a few token k's, but there again I could have seriously softened and succumbed to the bliss of bed.  (joining the retired ranks of Whispering Jack, BeerMat, SuperMario, Hollywood, Kenworth, BamBam, MyRideTrev, Softa, ScottMatt, Nick, KillkennyPaul..........need I go on?)    I'd tuned out to speed, only focusing on the clock (though Ford Rd's fog required a good look to see where the next white post was).  There's comfort sitting in the saddle's centre rather than on the rivet, legs were happy too just rolling the cranks over despite the bureau saying it felt like minus 3.  I steered south into Lemnos North Rd, the big soup tin barely visible in the pea soup as cars rolled in for the early shift.   Strangely, the fog had all but cleared the other side of New Dookie Rd, so I had a clear view on the casual spin down to Old Dookie Rd to ease my way back to town.  I almost concurred with JFK's "nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride", it just needed temperature to go with it.  Home early, a bit of spring left in the step and a suffer score not in the 200's was a different end.

17/7  Fridge Friday.

Somebody hit the fast forward on Winter!  I'm over it. (Don't remind me there's still 6 weeks left)  Yet another minus morning drew on determination to get out of bed and get on the bike, though a k down the road adrenaline and the spin to keep warm had turned the motivation up.  Rocket's rear tyre was under investigation at the start line (riding through an unseen patch of broken glass posed a possible puncture) but closer inspection proved it fit for purpose.  Kel, Grumpy, Kreeky, Boof, Tina, Wozza, Bo, Col and The Godfather had assembled, GreatScottSteve leading a chilled charge into Archer Rd.   My short straw was to draw Wozza's wheel (ahh, the want for that wattage) and he barely makes the draft of a toothpick. Steve set a smooth speed to Sanctuary, Wozza  on a restrained pace to the truck route.  My effort promoted from 3rd to 2nd wheel seemed doubled.  I'll put it down to the toothpick factor.  My labor was in the limelight for the leg to Mitchell Rd, happy I could keep the prior pace even though I was spent at the turn east.

Bo was kind building the speed gradually toward Kialla Central.  And so the usual procession paced to River Rd, the speed certainly spicy by the bridge where Tina retreated rearward. A call went out for calm soon after, the team considerate to keep all aboard.  (I was guessing a few were better suited to this slightly slower speed. Including me)   Grumpy took the north shift all the way to the highway, GreatScottSteve copying the long drive to reach Old Dookie Rd.  I was ready for Wozza to turn up the velocity westward (maybe the caffeine craving caused it?), managing the pace for his 3k shift to Central Ave, though the chill factor was biting hard by now.  My second turn was on a fairly low tank, much of it used at second wheel (that toothpick factor again?) so happily handed the helm to Bo when I'd gasped my way to Dobson's bridge.  The last leg had a little labor as Bo turned up the wick, traffic lights taming the velocity to zig-zag the streets back to the Butter Factory.

This week 192km    YTD 5,524 

The sacrificial lamb of labor.

Post #554
4/7  No "hot spots" here!

I'll blame winter for the dose of can't-be-bothered's, Saturday's 1 degree was hardly the inspiration to ride.  There was a hundred reasons to lay in the warmth of bed but it was the social stuff that stirred me out of it.  I'd just have to cope with the cold to get a dose of it! Aboard the bike and away ahead of schedule allowed a calm commute, rushing through this cold stuff would have imploded any incentive anyway.  Smoothie Steve and Tina were berthed at the grid early, Bruce, TrekTrev, Joe (not Tony), The Godfather, Superman, Col, Bo and Grumpy (hard man ; short knicks) arriving in the 2 minutes before 6.

Superman's new steed (a titanium Bosi) was in the brief limelight, but 6 bells chimed and without a volunteer for the first shift, it was me to take one for the team.  They'd just have to suffer the snail-like speed to start (sympathy for Superman's faded fitness could be my excuse I suppose?).  That slight incline to the Broken bridge felt like it emptied the tank, the downhill restoring the speed (and my faith) to the city's limits.  A hesitant peek at the Garmin brought a surprise, the tempo wasn't too bad!   That light hanging over Sanctuary's roundabout was still a distant speck, better to focus on smoothing the speed than the dramas of doing the distance.  Reaching that target with a breath or two in reserve was a rare treat, rest at the rear felt earned rather than the easy way out.  Smoothie Steve drove leg 2 while I positioned 2nd last, Superman was locked-down in the caboose breaking in a new bike (and climatizing to bunch speed), so Bruce's wheel became my focus while in respiratory recovery. ( 3 Ti's on the tail)

TrekTrev's been missing from the mob for a while but did his duty driving to Kialla Central, which got me thinking of today's missing persons ; where was Rocket, GiantAndy, Wozza, Boof and the regulars?  School holidays may have kidnapped them.  Col kept speed stoked north and Bo got greedy hogging the tail-wind on River Rd (some may have paid for that position), the Indian filed formation a little anti-social but twice the workload with two rows would have broken a few.  The Godfather's sense of wind direction had numbed in the cold of Coach Rd, the team scattered behind in search of a decent draft, but Bruce bore the brunt shouldering the load from the left.

Promotion saw me at 2nd wheel over the highway, hoping Bruce could drag me to Old Dookie Rd where I'd score that tail-wind.  He read my mind!    It was probably too easy to spin that swift shift, guilt got the better of me at the pork palace, so I peeled off to let Smoothie Steve soak up the sensation. To the Toaster, past the church and up to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, thoughts turned to the headwind home, how much horsepower was needed at the front and how short would the shift be?  Bo made it look easy nudging the high 30's toward the kennels but reality had dislodged Superman from the rear, Bruce delivering the "ease up" to the front.  It's Saturday, social and stuck together.....until Wanganui Rd at least.  Tina took over for a determined drive to Boundary Rd, The Godfather toughing it out to Lemnos North Rd (no dramas with a decent draft this time).  

Bruce made martyrs meek driving a 5 and a half k shift into that wind to town, his typical spin delivering a smoothness where I could tolerate the tempo.  Mind you, there wasn't much left when he finally handed over at Wanganui Rd.  The old engine was misfiring by DECA, there was no option but to elbow Steve to take the troops to the hill.  A 100 metres of calm in Rudd Rd recharged my batteries, enough to hang on for the hurry on the Boulevard to breakfast, the team halving toward cafes of choice.  Animal encouters, polarising politics and the ti difference made the table's topics, coffee and porridge warming the internals while the Lemontree heaters warmed the exterior.

6/7  The puncture pantomime.

5:40 struck and the social stuff stopped, Wozza got down to business leading the line south, starting the working week with work.  Kel, Bo, Grumpy, Col, Tina, Joe (not Tony), The Godfather, Bruce and Kreeky assembled behind, the chase on to catch Smoothie Steve rolling out ahead of us.  And he wasn't making it an easy catch.   From 3rd wheel back life was good for the midfielders, about to be blessed by a southwester from Mitchell Rd onward.  Judging by the length of the line, they'd probably have just one appearance in the lead role and be dealt a draft home.  Like real estate eh?  Position, position, position.

Tina soaked up the tailwind on River Rd to the bridge, Joe (not Tony) relishing the assistance to the dip (no short shifts for him today!)   I had speed spurred on to the quarter horse stud and rather than be greedy, handed the helm to Bruce.  The Godfather punctured on the turn into Coach Rd, providing a pantomime of entertainment while the fix was underway.  Among the tsunami of sledges keen eyed Kel found the offending intruder to the tube, and I got to witness the Poppa patented CO2 inflator in action.  Impressive. 
Underway again and up to Boundary Rd, Kreeky's light abandoned ship, so a slow regained a few breaths while he returned to re-attach (still shining bright, it wasn't hard to find in the dark).  Wozza resumed the velocity to Old Dookie Rd, Grumpy none too subtle with speed to School Rd.  The holler went out for a clear way around the rumble strips, a cautious cross of Central Ave and Smoothie Steve got the bit betwixt teeth to drive the last leg to town (heaven help us when a new bike goes under him soon).



7/7  Five facing fog.

Tuesday's tap starts a little earlier (to satisfy the desire for distance), my prologue predictably 'round the golf course loop, though the navigation through fog wasn't so predictable.  14k's of solitude solved the worlds problems (but none of my own) while climatizing to the feels-like 1, quietly counting the days till spring.   Sure as eggs, The only Goats with guts were Coggo, Sandy, Belly and Hommie to front Friars.   6am set me off in the lead role, careful to set a popular pace through the streets.   Progress was good eastbound toward Dobson's estate till I realised a hint of southwesterly was making my turn easy, so I dragged it out to Central Ave to dial up the difficulty.     

Hommie, Sandy and Coggo did their bit toward Boundary Rd, a long northbound line of the 5:40's headlights piercing the fog.  Belly managed a good shift south, handing me the helm a bit beyond the fig farm, my second contribution to the highway for Hommie to take charge.  The usual lack of time turned me west into Channel Rd, yet another sudden snarl from Darth Vader behind the bother.  Latching onto the draft from a passing westbound truck foiled his pursuit. Orchards offered reasonable shelter from the breeze to stay on agenda back to town, changing out of all those winter layers left just two spare minutes at home before employment called.



8/7  You's r all soft!
Minutes mattered.  The commute to the car park was a bit behind schedule so wattage wanted for the circuit was being spent early to get to the grid by 5:40. Well, that was a waste! Not a soul had fronted as launch time ticked over.  Ready to roll, I might as well labor the lap, if only to honor Rules #5 and #9.  Archer Rd's fog wasn't quite pea soup, the edge of the road was visible and the next white post was in view (so long as the specs were wiped every 30 seconds) so I set sail south with a "I'll show these softies" attitude (had I checked What's App last night I would have noticed most pull the pin on Wednesday's addiction).

That 100% humidity seemed to be a ball-and-chain, feeling like I'd taken on 20kg of damp to tow around. I'd always thought that fog meant no wind, but an easterly was definitely there to erode my efforts on Mitchell and River Rd.  No matter, there was only me to keep up with.  That wet tarmac would roster me on cleaning duties tonight (respecting Rule #65) but work now concentrated on getting River Rd done to enjoy that easterly on Boundary and particularly Old Dookie Rd (just as well vision was down to just 100 metres, it blinded me to the 5 k's left to labor).  As usual, those rumble strips seemed an eternity away.  The cock crowed as I cornered into Coach Rd, the effort now eased with the nose out of the wind, and boosted by a couple of passing trucks donating a draft.  Certainly helped me to the highway.  West was wonderful along Old Dookie Rd, the breeze was behind and there was just 8k's left of the cold and damp.  With vision vexed, caution was turned to maximum in town, so why a 4x4 drove the streets minus headlights was anyone's guess. Still asleep at the wheel?  They're out there folks.

9/7  In the lap of the Goats.

Time wasn't the enemy on Thursday, temperature was.  1 degree again!   This winter is really testing us.  A quiet roll to Friars found Snow, Sandy, Coggo and Hommie happy to head us into the cold clockwise circuit (a later work start today allowed a complete circuit for a change).   8k's of Old Dookie Rd was divided among us all, some a tad shorter than others but who's measuring?  (at least they're contributing and not cowering in their cot!)  A slight suggestion of a north northeaster hassled my headspace when I fronted the business end at Central Ave, I wonder if I'd done better if I hadn't looked at the wind direction earlier?  The mind's good at making mountains out of molehills.  Coggo took over at School Rd and I retreated to the rear, not only for respite but to tend to a nasal tsunami that winter happens to work up.  There was comfort southbound on Boundary Rd, Hommie, Sandy and Snow a little longer in shifts with the bonus breeze at the backside.  Snow peeled off the front at the bridges to hand me the helm, that target 2 k's in the distance (River Rd) not such a task with favoring winds.  Coggo's basic instinct was to ride River Rd's crown, a treat for the tail-end to be towed where the breeze wasn't a burden.  Echelon 101 really....but so many just don't get it.

It felt foreign to turn south toward Kialla Central (so often time turns me to short-cut home) but time was a treat today where I'd get to contribute a fair share (rather than one or two token turns)  Mitchell Rd marked my 3rd shift, to PitolPete's with pace but I really felt that inconspicuous incline to Archer Rd in the remaining 300 metres.  Relieved to be at the rear while Coggo captained to the highway, I could sense already (if other's turns went to sequence) I'd be the scapegoat in Raftery Rd.  No matter, I was in considerate company.   I can't remember when last riding Raftery Rd but the familiar pot-holes and bumpy bits soon jogged the memory (literally!)   Hommie hurried to Galbraith's gate, Sandy sped toward Arcadia Downs and Snow stuck to the standard of reaching the kink into Conrod.  Yep, I was the sacrificial lamb of labor for that 1200 metre leg to the finish line.  Despite the breeze now at the right brow the old engine was running ok, out of the dip and along that long plateau I'd already decided on flicking an elbow to Coggo with 300 to go.  Snow and Hommie were salivating for a sprint but they couldn't contain Coggo's craving for a win.   I'd dropped back for a bigger serve of oxygen and found Sandy ota, and as she'd made the effort to ride (unlike others who'd dived under their doona's) it was only decent to donate a draft to regain her place in the pack for the commute through town.  Ahh, the memories of those post sprint gasps taken on that k to the highway!

10/7  The fast that lasts.

Steve's new steed was the sensation at the start grid on Friday, a sparkling new Scott in red (they always go faster) replaces the Felt, forlorn.  Boof led the parade south into Archer, a north northeaster assisting us division 2's (names withheld to protect the pedestrians) to keep pace with the fitter.  TrackStan, on his once a week real bunch ride (ie; not an electronic gathering on Zwift), drove to the truck route, Steve setting speed in the lead of leg 3, but the sleek new Scott needed caster adjustment to track left (to give the tail a chance at a draft).  Joe (not Tony) inherited the the lead in Mitchell Rd, that wind his worry working east.  I kept a keen eye on his elbow.  I'd noticed the headaling nearing Pistol Pete's (the bobbing action of the skull brought on when legs fail to provide sufficient power to the pedals) so that flick was moments away.  He'd had enough sooner than expected (two flicks suggesting hurry up, I'm dying?) so I took the job to reach Kialla Central.  Keeping speed smooth was the struggle while wind whipped at the left flank.  A dozen passing as I retreated rearward seemed to take forever, catching Joe (not Tony)'s wheel given milliseconds as Bruce bolted to River Rd. 

I'd been banking on recovery by the turn east but Kel had a driving determination to get to the bridge, Tina with equal enthusiasm aiming at the dip.  Recovery was on hold, Bo took to the front with the bit being bitten.  Col served up his speed, The Godfather's trajectory putting most in the gutter in varied velocities but Wozza's work at the front in Coach Rd ironed out the ups and downs.  It was up, then more up! I could leave the brake levers alone now.  Smooth and swift to Channel Rd, I could prepare for the pace to continue when Rocket took to the drivers seat.  And his is the fast that lasts!  All the way to Old Dookie Rd if you don't mind.  Boof repeated the rapid rate west to Central Ave, a few seconds spent stocktaking oxygen while the group gathered helped, though TrackStan was kind enough to keep speed sustainable to town.  Steve had faster ideas through the streets toward coffee, incurring a new "GreatScottSteve" nickname.

This week 282km   YTD  5,331km 

 
         

A serve of smoothness.

Post #553
27/6  The chill thrill.

Temperature, or the lack of it, didn't prevent a dozen from assembling in 1 degree for Saturday's social spin, GiantAndy, TatPaul, Lance, Slingshot Steve, Wozza, Shorty, Bruce, Rocket, The Godfather, CatKel, TrackStan and Nev had committed to the thrill of the chill.  The process of pairing became protracted when the call went out for two rows at the exit of town, so many weeks of single filed rides had turned some rusty on rotational rituals.  Pre Covid 19 routines seemed like ancient history!  I'd fallen into line behind Slingshot Steve who'd taken some tutorial on the turns, pairing with him in Mitchell Rd, confident of reaching the usual target of Kialla Central.....till wattage went missing just a k later.  And it wasn't all in the head, lungs were labouring in 1 degree.  Steve kindly complied with my call to roll, Bruce alongside sympathetically easing the speed. 

Some days you've got it, others you 'aint.  Dissapointing really, so the social stuff distracted thoughts of lameness.  It's been a while since Nev and TatPaul have rolled with the bunch, TrackStan and Lance a little part time in the peloton too.  My prior performance was soon in the past as GiantAndy, Bruce and The Godfather provided the draft along River Rd, ahh but don't get too comfortable Foss, just a dozen sharing shifts meant another turn wasn't too far away.  CatKel had got out of the caboose to contribute, comfort found in a calmer pace today than a fortnight before.  Duty again called for my drive at Channel Rd with Slingshot, maybe the prolonged pace had given the lungs a lesson 'cause this shift was more manageable.  Bruce and I did duty crossing the highway and up to Pogue Rd, it's certainly a comfort when your co-pilot calls "your speed".  TatPaul seemed pushed for pace (too long between bunch rides?), Shorty in contrast doing the effort easily (despite just a couple of appearances a week).

As always the horsepower had happened to collect in formation, Rocket, Wozza, TrackStan and Nev stirring the speed west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd. That continued effort to keep pace began to pay it's reward, legs no longer struggling with the speed, even the heart rate had lowered.  Does wonders for the confidence.  Closer to town the hurry heightened, the thoughts of a hot breakfast maybe or was it to burn calories to minimise the guilt?  I was well in the deep end on Wanganui Rd advancing to the rushin' front, Rocket and Wozza had set a swift standard and Slingshot Steve looked primed to preserve it.  Mt.Wanganui loomed large but my wattage was waining, choosing to tuck into the left line rather than be hung out to dry in the right.   Others followed suit.  A moment's ease in Rudd Rd restored a breath or two, enough to hang onto the hurry along the Boulevard as the prospect of caffeine drove determination to the Lemontree.  Much mirth and a warm breakfast under the heaters thawed us, facing the cold ride home not the easiest of ends.  


29/6  Mastering minus.

I'd positioned 3rd last in line as Monday's single filed mob mastered the minus 2 in Archer Rd, it felt a little like taking the easy way out but I'd get to climatize to the cold before facing duty at the front. Wozza led Bruce, Grumpy, Joe (not Tony), Col, Kel, Tina and The Godfather as better-late-than-never Slingshot Steve caught the tail, the temperature torturing as tempo built up.   Legs were happy to hurry (working up some warmth) but lungs wanted no part of it.  Joe (not Tony) was made captain in Mitchell Rd, the arctic atmosphere shortening his shift at PistolPete's.  Col, fuelled at fifty, drove determined to Kialla Central then on to River Rd as an extra effort.   Kel supplied the tow east to the bridge while I prepared thoughts to take on the lead role when Tina finished her shift.  Her elbow summoned me to the front as the line rose from the dip and I'd ignored setting a target to reach but fixed focus on preserving the prior pace ; let's see what distance I'd get till the internal alarm bells went off  (the quarter horse stud, 1500 metres later).
Like others, I'd dialled down expectations in this sort of climate, there'd be far more energy and enthusiasm with 20 degrees added to today's recipe.  The Godfather got us to Coach Rd as the cock crowed (the one in the farm yard, not the one on the Reacto), Slingshot Steve finally fronting to keep the velocity keen to the bridges.
We'd all done our bit, now for round 2 of turns.  Haven't things changed from the days of pre-lockdown rides ; two rows of two dozen chatting away on a mild morning, navigating the twists and turns of Channel Rd, up Boundary Rd and back to town on Ford, with maybe one turn to contribute. At least this alternative of a single filed thrash has put purpose into winter weekdays.  Wozza worked us to the highway, an approaching car cautioned Col to halt so there was a brief reprieve till he'd rejoined in Boundary Rd.  Grumpy's pace kept sentences silenced and wheels humming to the bacon barn, Bruce setting speed to Old Dookie Rd.   Slingshot Steve's second shift took us west toward town, Joe (not Tony) keeping the rhythm albeit with a shorter shift.  Col navigated us around the rumble strips to Central Ave where Kel and Tina took us to town. Stopping at traffic lights in town almost felt tropical, a brief break for that refrigerated sensation at speed.  

30/6  The woes of wind.
I enjoy the pleasantries of clocking a few k's at my own pace sometimes, except Tuesday's tap of the golf course loop had the speed set by a keen northeaster, to sluggish!  What was meant to be a peaceful prologue turned painful if I was to do better than a snail's speed.  I guess it could have been made worse by another minus.

14k's later I found Snow, Sandy, Belly and Coggo at Friars, and as Heady has hibernated, I took the first shift on the chin.  15 to 20 k's worth of wind is the standard stuff of summer but certainly unwanted in winter, so my drive to Dobson's bridge was tame (under the guise of being kind to Belly)   With a little wattage left, I continued the tow to Central Ave.  Snow was on duty to School Rd and the ever dependable Coggo was left to labour to Boundary Rd. Belly and Sandy were to be gifted the Boundary Rd tail wind.  Identified by The Godfather's holler, a long line of 5:40 Couldabeens worked west toward town.  Belly and Sandy enjoyed their drive toward the highway though I could see my minutes ticking away already, a Channel Rd exit my only option if I was to remain employed.  Bidding adieu's and branching off west, all went quiet in the shelter of Channel Rd's orchards, just the murmur of Michelins to motivate me home.  Thought it was too good to be true, a strange but swift  'click, click, click' started and I was struggling to guess it's source.  Soon, a slobber and growl told me Darth Vader was hot on my heels, the big black dog in the 6:30 darkness mentally becoming a monster with the jaws of a shark.  That hurried the heart rate! Half a k in the 40's soon put him ota, a calm restored ready to face the unpredictable commuting traffic in town.

1/7  A dedicated dozen.

A damp road, a wind blowing, and in the depths of winter, only the dedicated would bother.  Others are satisfied to snooze.....and soften.   (I can hear the grizzles now as they emerge in spring!)  Bruce, Rocket, Wozza and Slingshot Steve spun ahead of me, Kel, Tina, Bruce, Shorty, The Godfather, Bo and Kreeky behind while we enjoyed the assistance of a northeaster out of town.  Shorty's puncture incurred an intermission on leg 3, a chance for me to stock up on oxygen while repairs soaked up a few minutes.   Rocket reconvened the ride east on Mitchell Rd, Slingshot Steve seated second and poised for the north leg to River Rd.  He's progressing well, a steady build up of speed, minimising the whiplash effect, riding the crown of the road to offer a draft from the northeaster and setting a smooth rhythm to ease the effort for all.  Maybe it should read Smoothie Steve?

My time for torture came due, towing the 11 to the bridge ; a small price to pay considering I'd be towed for most of the 30k circuit.  I managed the prior pace for the first k and there the tempo began to fade, stubborn was all that was left to push an unwilling pair of legs (and lungs) to the bridge.  Kudos eased the pain as the crew passed, comfort found in the caboose when I caught Smoothie Steve's wheel.  Bruce, Shorty and Bo shared the duty to reach Coach Rd, The Godfather needing an echelon education to ride the roads' centre to create shelter for those behind.

And so the turns rolled against that annoying wind, over the highway and up to Old Dooie for the west way back to town.  The breeze from (almost) behind had a calming effect, though the speed spiced up accordingly, Bruce and Wozza propelling the pace to Central Ave, Rocket in the drivers seat to shorten the wait for coffee in town.  The 40's was made manageable with a big serve of smoothness, that speedo hardly faltering from Dobson's to the truck route (with Strava trophies gifted to many).  Smoothie Steve spun the leg to SPC, my turn the easy one to cruise the streets toward the Butter Factory.

3/7  Friday's fling.

A new chain and a clean bike lulled me into a false sense of speed, overnight drizzle (of course) spoiling the sparkling steed on the stupid o'clock commute to Friday's ride.  Well, the Baum looked nice for a minute or so.  The Godfather, Tina, Bruce, Wozza, Kel, Kreeky, Bo, Smoothie Steve, Grumpy and Rocket lined up on a damp carpark, 3.5 degrees selling short on the 7 degree forecast.  (Thinks; Thou shalt not covet Tina's heated socks!)  Bo led the team away at 5:40, a little westerly into the bargain as we headed south.  Smoothie Steve started slow into Mitchell Rd, seeing that all were aboard before turning up the wick, but Kel (correctly) called for calm as his enthusiasm forged into the 40's.  Some of that slingshot has slipped back!  Kel showed how a drive was done through Kialla Central with pace perfected up to River Rd for Tina to take over.  I waited for an elbow as she neared the bridge , Tina's body language raising the white flag a little shy of the mark (but who's measuring?)

That touch of downhill over the bridge bumped up my pace, a few hollers from behind suggesting I ease off the throttle if I was to preserve friendships.  The Godfather was promoted to the drivers seat out of the dip and I'd just settled into the role of rearmost when Steve punctured.  'Tis the season.  Guidance was given (whether he liked it or not!) for the fix, Kel's keen eye and expertise a more than suitable substitute in MyRideTrev's absence.  Steve seems set to practice the puncture protocols in daylight.  Away again a few minutes later, Bo and Grumpy resumed the workload to Coach Rd, Rocket in a rare display, riding relaxed in the low 30's toward the bridges.

Wozza injected some hurry back into the lap and Bruce continued the workload beyond the pub while I was lapping up high 30's comfort in the saddle for a change.  Maybe 'cause a day off work created a chance for coffee with the crew rather than the usual high-tail homeward.   The road had gone from dry to damp on Grumpy's quick shift to Central Ave (making up for recent absences?), Kreeky setting the speed to the city.  Jam on toast accompanied caffeine for the Butter Factory babble on Covid parties and the wheels of strength to sit on.   Guilt for Thursday's sleep in dragged me back aboard for a solo epilogue, a circuit of Raftery-Mitchell-Coach-Channel in fresh and foggy conditions (so if your car is black or the colour of the road, wouldn't you turn headlights on?  Ten couldn't, must have been busy texting) was judged suitable restitution (and it breaks the 45k per day habit)

This week 283km    YTD 5,047 km