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