Pepper in the pace.

 Post #559

9/8  The Sunday serenity.

I'd been kept in the dark too long.  Deprived of daylight, and vitamin D for what seemed like months, I craved scenery and a hint of warmth (if that wasn't too much to ask).  The forced isolation of Covid's stage 3 restrictions at least gives freedom to start when and where you like, albeit socially starved.   So as Saturday was a wash-out, Sunday and it's serenity was selected to spin a few k's.  In sunshine!  But solo, sadly.  Starting at 6:30 seemed terribly tardy but it was a new found pleasure to see beyond the headlights' beam for a change, a course plotted to make the best of the breeze.  A tail-wind home of course!  New Dookie Rd was still soggy from Saturday's saturation with a mist in the lowlands to push through toward Boundary Rd.  Like riding through vichyssoise mentally.   That tiny hint of colour in the clouds turned up the enthusiasm and 6 degrees felt a touch tropical (well, compared to the last few weeks) though that breeze in the face made sure the southern leg wasn't going to be easy.  At least it was dry.  

I'd plotted a path to Karramomus (for that tail-wind home), the long stretch of gradually thinning tarmac needing distractions on it's distance.  Sun-up did it.  Colour painted things positive, despite the niggling breeze, magpies warbled their welcome to the day and sulphur-crested cockatoos screeched overhead (noisier than Hommie's chain!)   Legs labored south on the Euroa Rd, seeking the line of trees that flanked Karramomus Rd.  Nope, that one's Union Rd.  Nope, that one's Wilkinson!  Gotta be down here somewhere. (the legacy of a long straight road, eh?)   

Yesterday's rain had left behind a little eau de wattle and gum-tree, what a refreshing change to the carbon monoxide cologne the city's streets get soaked in.  Oops!, spoke to soon ; dead roo by the roadside put nasty up the nostrils.  Karramomus Rd finally appeared and I'd forgotten that rough way west, at least the tarmac eventually grows wider and smoother from it's 3 metre wide goat-track beginning. The metropolis of Karramomus (an empty public hall and tennis court) slipped by, the 6k's to the main eastern channel seemingly shorter, the tail-wind tactic to town now paying dividends pointed north on Central Kialla Rd.  The earlier slog south almost seemed worth it.  Happy days with the breeze at the back-side, smooth stretches of tarmac helping the hurry toward Mitchell Rd, the only vehicle to compete with, a solitary oncoming truck.  

The wind was forgotten till turning west toward the highway, original plans of returning via Raftery Rd shelved in favor of Archer Rd.  The wind wasn't the worry, breakfast beckoned!

I staved off salivating while thoughts scrolled through the Lemontree's menu, all those calories burned needed replacing didn't they?  Isn't that why we ride?  5k's north on Archer Rd rolled rapidly by with the wind in my favor, the city's streets eerily empty (Covid the cause?)   The bike was somewhat soiled and legs a little second-hand but the satisfaction of a lap in daylight erased all that, the bonus having the hunger rewarded. 

    

10/8  Random routes.

The incentive to board the Baum was at a trickle (Monday-itis maybe?), two degrees outside, bunches were banned and there was six weeks of stage three lock-down to go. 

Ah, but the rest of the week's weather looked a whisker wet, so I'd best strike a blow or the regret would ruin me.  Off with the doona, less I succumb to softening!  A clean bike and a silent chain put a bit of spirit into the spin, the exit of town on Ford Rd plunging me into the dark toward Lemnos.  Riding random routes mustered some motivation in the last lock-down so I'll try the road-less-traveled again as a poor substitute to the social stuff.  Lemnos North Rd was different in the dark, without landmarks as a guide I was relying on guesswork to get me home in time.  That put a bit of spice into the speed.  Oh yeah, a bit of southerly helped. A kink right, a kink left, past Jubilee Rd and on toward Katamatite Rd, fingers and toes were climatizing to the 2.5 degrees.  The turn south west toward Congupna put me into the breeze and into a bit of traffic, the metre or two of tarmac at the road's edge keeping me out of harms way. Threading a line between two (?) rows of tactile edge-lining was the trick. Congupna was mostly asleep at 6:20 and traffic thin on the other side, so 5k's on Numurkah Rd later I'd arrived back in town ahead of expectation.  A diversion via Wanganui Rd clocked a few extra k's, a little light on the horizon behind teasing thoughts of spring to come in just a few weeks.

11/8  A toil to Tally. 

Before the excuses had a chance to fester, I'd risen from the cot in the reflex response to eat, sleep, ride, repeat.  One moment longer under the doona and I'd have succumbed to softness.  There was a tank to fill and a course to plot.  North, east and southwest seemed suitable with the westerly forecast, well that was the bureau's promise....  Northbound toward Nathalia felt anything but, more like a northeasterly that hampered any form of progress toward Zeerust.  What seemed like 10k was really only 6 to the School Rd, the decision to plug on further made easier with the clock yet to tick to 5:40. Thoughts of a tail-wind home helped too.  I sensed a tail-wind to the church but that ease evaporated when northbound toward Bunbartha Rd, it's length feeling longer than the last lock-down. Landmarks hidden in the dark doesn't help. Regretting the route now, the turn west toward Tallygaroopna turned up the toil, it wasn't much of a wind (15km/h) but this old engine needed the 17 sprocket to make some sort of speed.   I'd better have an easier path home!  

Tally's two street lights were the salvation to focus the dwindling reserves, the long white line aside the highway stretching south back to town a happier sight. I found comfort in cruising the 2 metre emergency lane though few cars were about, comfort too out of that headwind headed toward the city's lights.  Into Congupna early, a drive down the truck route got me to Ford Rd, an orange horizon lighting up Tuesday's morning.  Ever so slowly, the days grow longer.

13/8 Being bait.

Day 8 of lock-down and I was already craving company, to be honest, craving a little competition too, so I set south to the car-park to seek out the tail-light time trial.  Streets were damp which usually draws out the 4 wheeled "mushrooms" (big heads, little stalks), some wanna-be Daniel Ricardo motoring north at warp speed (and lighting up the rear tyres) through town as I spun sedately south.  Delighted our directions differed!  Wozza and Rocket had teamed up to slog south as I rolled in to grid, Boof and Bruce arriving soon after.  I was happy to let these lads (suitably paired in pace) leave, so with the Ferrari's flown, I waited for another '97 Hyundai Excel with 480,000 k's on the clock (and a dodgy head gasket) to turn up.  Nope, not one!  So much for company.  

Taking the Channel Rd option was dismissed as soft, so sucking up the solo thing, I set south on Archer.  Watching Boof and Bruce's tail-lights hurtle to the horizon dampened the spirits, so I spun the truck route short-cut to leap-frog ahead.  There's nothing like being bait to put some pepper in the pace.  I'd made it to River Rd to find two red led's ahead ; was I really that slow or was I viewing a distant Rocket and Wozz?  Or would a pair of lights soon be chasing me?  Time would tell.  I couldn't agree with the bureau again, they reckoned a NNE'er but my snail-like speed said a head-on easterly.  Either that or I needed to fix that dodgy head gasket.  The third nervous peek behind found Bruce and Boof's headlights in pursuit, so that spiced up my speed. Being caught was inevitable, when was the challenge.  That wind now felt northeasterly, making it's presence painful between the few trees at the roadside, but holding off my pursuers had priority over making excuses about my effort.  The heart ruled the head when reaching the limit, no amount of determination would get me going faster, so I gave in to the ticker calling the shots.  Another pair of lights ahead were sighted north on Coach Rd, so that was probably Rocket and Wozz ; others were in the hunt.  Lights behind me were closing in though some enthusiasm was left, maybe I could hold 'em off till Channel Rd (if that wind would stop blowing!)  Surprise, surprise, I was still ahead at the highway but with a fairly empty tank, Bruce and Boof finally passing me at the bridge.  The offer to 'jump on' was declined, there wasn't the wattage to grab the wheel and they were better left to play at their pace.  Turning west into Old Dookie Rd eased the hurt, an almost tail-wind was payback for the prior pain so a couple of k's added to the tempo gave some satisfaction to the fact of being o.t.a.  A cruise through town and headed homeward needed a diversion for a police road block, a rather nasty crash ahead turned out to be the aforementioned "mushroom".  Lost control, struck a tree at high speed, car in three very separate parts.  27 years is way too early to end a life.

 This week   168 km      YTD 6,390 km