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