What I wanted was wattage!

Post #558
1/8  Saturday shenanigans.

Shirking first shift was only delaying the inevitable, sooner or later that fear of the front needs to be faced, so what better time than the early shift where you can control the cruelty to your own liking (then use the draft to hang on when the big guns fire)  Rather than going 'round the block a second time, I rolled into the empty car park at 5:57, my head convinced that the poor excuse for a breeze (a north northeaster at 6 km/h) would propel me on a respectable pace.   Wozza, GiantAndy, Bruce, Tina, Rocket, Boof, Shorty, Bo, Grumpy, The Godfather, TatPaul, Joe (not Tony) and CatKel had braved yet another 1 degree morning, the 25th day of 3 or below so far this year. (That beats the total of 2018 or 2019 already, and there's a lot more of winter to come!  Yeah, thought you'd like to know that) 

The inevitable 6 bells tolled so it was down to business into Archer Rd, but an approaching car divided the bunch, the call for calm had taken the pressure off......for half a minute.  Wozza had settled my nerves with news that 1st shift now ends at Adams Rd (halving the prior target to Sanctuary's roundabout)   The holler of "all aboard!" came at the bridge, the chill still gripped the lungs and legs labored to make decent speed but that pressure to perform was at least abbreviated.  (Would stubborness have driven me to the roundabout anyway without that news?)  The line seemed long as I rolled rearward, that collection of division one wattage as usual, line astern.  Tina called me in to 3rd last spot, CatKel already locked into the caboose as Wozza towed the train to the truck route, I could now battle the gasps for a few minutes and restore to near normal as others faced the same (?) suffering.  The gifted few could pretend punishment while cruising.

TatPaul seemed to struggle in the lead role, Shorty,by contrast, as fast as any fit fella, yet rides once a week.  How does he do that?  The banter became boisterous as The Godfather and Rocket swapped sledges , an amusing distraction from my task at the front, due soon.  Bo carved a path for me through the crispy atmosphere to Coach Rd, but it was my task north, surprisingly at a respectable pace till the lungs had had enough at the bridges.  Copious compliments took the sting out of the effort though the thoughts quickly sprinted to the stress of the next turn.   Watching while others did their duty hit home the diversity of drivers in the bunch ; aren't we lucky the parameters are fairly broad! 

Grumpy made light work of the northeaster in Old Dookie Rd, GiantAndy barely breaking a sweat to reach the Toaster, it was the whiplash effect at the corner that was testing the tail-enders.  Rocket positioned himself ahead of The Godfather (all the better for the banter) while Joe (not Tony) went on duty at the Church, the drop in pace while sledges were swapped testing reactions at the back.  Back to business in Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, I was quietly confident I'd survive another turn, so advanced on Bo's wheel closer to the front, hoping he wouldn't burn what little wattage I had to spare. Drive time came at Boundary Rd and the spin on the 15 was ideal, a decent pace manageable without toasting the legs till nearly at the main eastern channel.   Kudos again eased the post traumatic stress but the effort had taxed me enough to cancel plans for further fronting.  Further displays of wattage by the young fellas were better viewed in their draft.  Wanganui Rd soon neared but concerns were unfounded, the charge to the hill was keen but not crucifying and the belt along the Boulevard bearable. Breakfast at the Butter Factory soon erased the hurt, chat on the whiplash effect, vinyl records and face masks socially satisfying. Braving the cold again a bigger challenge than the ride.

3/8  Us & them.

 GreatScottSteve was on a mission, leading the field beyond Adams Rd at a great rate of knots and I hadn't the horsepower to get around him, let alone the oxygen to tell him he'd gone beyond expectations of the first shift.  My only option was to hang on till Sanctuary's roundabout ended his term.  Bruce, The Godfather, Col, Tina, Kreeky, Wozza, Liam, Rocket, Kel, Bo and Trav were stretched out behind, a northeaster was helping us south but what I wanted was wattage for my turn to the truck route.  It might have been a Monday mood, but the head had slipped into defeatist mode ; if I was struggling with speed with a tail-wind, what hope would I have with a head-wind?  That expectation along with the wattage of Bo, Wozza, Liam, Rocket and Bruce to come, my plans were already set in stone.  Sit on and hope to survive.  Rocket then Wozza tweaked up the tempo to Central Kialla (the headwind of little hinderance to them!), Kreeky, Tina and Kel carved their way into the wind with Liam, Bruce and Trav lurking behind.

The Godfather made his rear presence felt with a blurt of "car back", Col content in the caboose too as the big calibre Couldabeens set the speed to catch a red led ahead.  Bruce kindly set a second echelon against the northeaster so the tail-enders weren't in the gutter, but sitting second wheel was taxing.  The bpm's finally dropped below 165 in Coach Rd, Bo cutting the wind en-route to the bridges as we absorbed the Rabbit (that red led ahead) into the fold.  Hasn't he been in a good paddock!  (A bunny with ballast)  Half a dozen of "them" rolled the turns to tow "us" along, I suppose I'd unwittingly stopped many from rolling through  as self appointed gate-keeper but I didn't hear any complaints from the enlarging caboose behind.  I was looking forward to the west leg home, if only to enjoy the peace instead of wind whistling between the ears (hoping nobody was about to set new speed records)  Oncoming cars kept us in the left lane to rattle us through the rumble strips, Liam kindly keeping tempo tolerable (a fraction under 40) into town.  The Rabbit bolted from the back to head the pack to SPC (for reason known only to rabbits) and the zigs and zags to Archer Rd, but was brought undone horizontally on the slick corner at SPC's freight terminal (pride the only injury it seems)

4/8  Rock & roll !

With lockdown just days away, Goats gathered in unprecedented numbers on Tuesday, a wonder for winter!  Coggo, Belly, Snow, Dippa, Sandy, AvantiAndy, AvantiLeigh, Phil, Ranso, Hommie and Furph filled the foothpath at Friars, and it's been a long time since that happened.  A two row formation exiting town was as rare as Zwift's reality, I'd paired with Ranso (a newcomer to Goats and way above their average)  to Dobson's bridge, a westerly pushing up the pace.  AvantiAndy and Dippa advanced for a turn at the rushin' front (that might not be the case for the headwind home) despite a sudden emergence from hibernation.  Shifts shortened a tad on the southerly spin along Boundary Rd, Hommie showed the strain but it didn't phase Sandy with a distinct aerodynamic advantage.   Ranso and I again headed the herd at the highway to the Broken bridges, I'd just settled into the draft near One Tree Dam when a gloved finger pointed quickly to the road, lucky to be on Ranso's line 'cause a fist sized rock suddenly appeared just centimetres to one side.

A few moments later the holler to halt went out, figuring a puncture was the possibility.  (In fact Sandy had struck said rock and hit the deck)    In the half minute to slow and u-turn, Sandy was up and rolling south again, a bit bruised and bark off the knee ; one tough cookie!  A minute's cruise for composure and the train stoked up steam for the work into the wind on River Rd.  In the reshuffle of the u-turn I'd berthed between Dippa and AvantiAndy, so was careful to stay level alongside ; let's not shatter the dreams of those who dare to make a comeback, particularly in the depths of winter (but lets see who soldiers on solo in Covid's lockdown)    I'd get in a full lap with time kind to me today, the southbound leg through Central Kialla  was a welcome respite from that westerly.  Shifts went short again along Mitchell Rd, Hommie had retired rearward tending to Sandy, others showing the signs of wind wear.

Arriving at Raftery Rd opened up the history books of memories but the details would have to wait as the pace percolated to Galbraith's gate and the advance line beckoned.  Hey, I was positioned well.  (don't get too excited Foss, there's serious horsepower among this lot!)  Belly and Phil made brief appearances, Dippa and Snow rolled straight over and Furph was in struggle street.  Two rows turned to Indian file as Arcadia Downs blurred by and Coggo looked to be left out the front to air.  My glance back saw an abyss to the rest of the bunch,  so in sympathy for Coggo, headed the hurry into Conrod straight (but spent most of my wattage to do it)    When Ranso, AvantiLeigh and Coggo drew past out of the dip I forced my rubber legs sprint to catch their draft.  Elbows flapped and AvantiLeigh had the helm with a 100 to go, Coggo wisely playing the waiting game to pinch the win on the finish line.

5/8 Bye bye bunch :(

Stage 3 restrictions were about to be re-introduced so Wednesday's spin would be the squad's swansong, so a chance to soak up the social stuff stirred the speed to the carpark, despite the 2 degrees and a bone chilling westerly at 28 km/h.  There'd be six weeks of solitary confinement to come; some will slog on solo, others opt for the digital delusion that is Zwift but some will succumb to the doona I guess.  

Boof, Tina, Bo, Rocket, Bruce, Kreeky, The Godfather, Kel, Joe (not Tony) and Col kept it real to gather at the shop, 6am struck and Boof rolled away, most tactically stalling their start to avoid that westerly on their first shift.  Sucker me took second wheel.  Boof drove the train toward Adams Rd as I prepared for the pain at the front, but he soldiered on to Sanctuary (seems few are aware of the new Adams Rd target for leg 1).   That suited me, the leg to the truck route has a bit better shelter.  I was well wearied by the end, happily handing the helm to Kreeky to drive a fine turn to Mitchell.  Tina's start strategy had paid big dividends, blown toward Central Kialla by that wind, but she kept it quick anyway.  Joe (not Tony) took the tough turn to River Rd (so much for his careful manoeuvring at the grid !), Kel keeping the crew silenced with speed on a windswept shift to the bridge.  The headwind home was the last thing on most minds as 25k's worth of westerly whisked us toward Coach Rd, the reminder of the toil not so subtle as the line battled the breeze side on while Bo led us toward the highway.  That pot-hole near One Tree Dam was well pointed (a proper look at it today saw several rocks within) though it was still a near miss for some at the rear ; there's not a lot of reaction time travelling at 10 metres per second; a point to ponder next time you're on the front of a train.  (In six weeks?)   

I had a bit of a light globe moment with just Bo, Rocket and Boof ahead of me ; I'd probably be the one to score Old Dookie Rd's headwind, so was swift to soak up the smoothness of Boof's draft while trying to bank a few breaths in readiness.  When the moment arrived I made a mess of my contribution at the front, way too enthusiastic with the energy and too much anger at the wind instead of pacing what little wattage I had, so the tank went empty well shy of School Rd, Kreeky given the task while I retired ruined to the rear.  Oh yeah, Col had coveted that spot.  Second last would do.  Kel had done her duty and Bruce lapped up the labor to Central Ave, Bo and Rocket driving their turns into town as if a headwind didn't exist.  38 into a 28k wind doesn't add up!  Parting was a sort of sweet sorrow at the Butter Factory, I'll miss that social sustenance for six weeks of lock-down though the legs will be happy to holiday from the hurry. 

7/8  The Covid confinement.

There was no fixed start time, no particular place to launch from, the course was totally optional (and subject to change on a whim), I could set the speed, didn't have to worry about the echelon etiquette, could clear nasal nuances without flack, even fire off a flatule (the singular of that oft used verb) without fear....and I'd win the sprint!  

Bunch rides weren't kosha in Covid's stage 3 regulations, so it was family pairs or solo only for six weeks, and almost instantly, the solo serenity was deafening!  East onto Old Dookie Rd and I was into a head 'wheeze' ; a bit less than a wind but more than a breeze.  That got the head down and the heart-rate up..... and here's me setting my own speed!  2 degrees didn't help.  Hopes were invested in some sort of respite heading south.  8k's passed reasonably quickly without a car to contend with, though a passing one or three might have helped. The turn into Boundary Rd was a let-down, not the help I'd hoped for but some shelter was found from the few orchards that are left, the push to the pub now banking on the breeze being up the bum in River Rd.  Eyes wide open for the chasm of a pot-hole at One Tree Dam, sights of leds in pairs plying north and east told me the tail-light time trial was back in action.  Was that Bruce who hollered a g'day on the turn?  The starvation for social stuff struck already!  The going got easy when wheels pointed west, varied road surfaces now playing their part in pace.  Ah, for a bout of Beach Rd!  Ol' mate Blackie plugged his way east, funny how each will almost sign their name by posture on a bike. Rather than push the envelope of time through Central Kialla, I chose the truck route shortcut to town, first light gradually getting earlier an inspiration that warmer weather may be nearing?  If we must go solo till mid September, give us some temperature to motivate!

This week 237km     YTD 6,221 km