The chat after the flat chat.

 Post #569

25/10  A Sunday soliloquy.

Yet again, Saturday's damp had deferred a spin to Sunday, but it would be starved of the social stuff.  Not a hint of a ride on WhatsApp. Maybe there were too many sore heads from celebrations / commiserations surrounding a certain football match?  Solo would curb my craving to ride, I could set my own course and my own pace, even win the sprint!  I'd just have to suffer the soliloquy. (go on, Google it!) But was I reading July's forecast over breakfast?  Feels like 1.5 degrees? And a southerly up to 37 km/h?  With just 10 weeks till Christmas?  Well, at least it wasn't raining. 

Without contemplation, I'd found myself tapping the golf course loop again (old habits die hard) but the aim was further ; a fair bit east then a fair bit west and as little southbound as possible.   Wanganui, Ford then Lemnos-Cosgrove is a track often tapped, the power of suggestion that there was a whisker of westerly in that southerly helped the eastern effort (mentally). Barely 6:15 and a  little light on the horizon mustered some motivation toward Cosgrove, with no-one else's agenda to follow it would make sense to set the speed to cruise, but something weird within drives the tempo into Zone 4 fairly quickly. 

It's probably Strava's fault; posting a pedestrian pace seems silly.  (That competition curse strikes even when spinning solo).  It seems foreign to cross Pine Lodge North Rd when its usually a turn south to the Toaster, the distant lights at the quarry drawing me like a moth past the old telephone exchange and landfill site.  Yep, that southerly was certainly stiff on the turn into Quarry Rd.  A couple of k's at Muppet pace would soon be forgotten Foss!  West on New Dookie Rd wasn't as cruel, the sun was up and psychological warmth at the back almost got thoughts off the icy wind, particularly in the shelter of a few trees.  The tarmac has copped a beating over winter, water creeping under the cracks in the surface and traffic dislodging the loose stuff.   Holes to hammer a wheel to death in some places.  That wind was doing a good job of steering me around them though.  The 6k's back to Pine Lodge church passed fairly fast, but that meant facing another stint into the southerly. Briefly.

Toasted at the Toaster, the turn west onto Old Dookie Rd was a short holiday, but some crazy fool had a bit more suffering southbound in mind.  Concentrating on coffee kept the legs spinning south on Boundary to Channel Rd, knowing the hardest stuff was done made the west leg to town a treat.  And only 3 cars to deal with for the last 45 km.  Don't you love the serenity!  Roads were reasonably clear in town too, finally reaching Melbourne Rd to enjoy a whole 2km of tailwind. The quiet over coffee was quite queer.

26/10  Bunch bust'n.

Fortuitously, I'd thrown a leg over the bike a little earlier than usual, another southerly was doing it's best to blow me backward en-route to the Sanctuary start-line. I could afford a slightly slower pace and still get to the grid on time (mentally mapping a manoeuvre to avoid the first turn to Mitchell Rd.)   PistolPete, GreatScottSteve, Tina, Col, The Godfather, Didak, Kel, Joe (not Tony) and Bo converged on the roundabout, Kel surprisingly taking the first shift into 3k's of headwind. I'd strategically slid into 4th wheel, though PistolPete ahead would test me with pace.  At the end of Archer, Kel retired rearward, Tina (2nd wheel) rolling back to the caboose too, battling breaths, so Pistol headed our hurry to Central Kialla.  

I couldn't complain, I would be blessed with the wind behind on my drive to River Rd. There was a slow start to my shift with bother at the back, the calm allowing the caboose to re-connect.  Not till the public hall did the "all aboard" come, so guilt had  me adding a half shift into River Rd as a fair contribution.  The urge to reach the bridge was quickly erased by the wind whipping in at the right flank, so I handed the reigns to The Godfather to assume the seat of suffering.  Tina called me in to 3rd last wheel, assuming Didak commanded the caboose.  Not sure where Pistol had gone.  The Godfather did well to tow us to the dip, Bo's shift strangely a standard one to the quarter horse stud.  Col opened up the throttle but hollers from the rear (that didn't reach the front) told of an o.t.a.  Delivering that news to the front took some wattage but the subtle trim of 2 km/h off the pace had little effect on gathering the remains, now 100 metres in arrears.  Vince was caught and absorbed into the front line. Taking the news to the front again turned my focus fuzzy.  

The calm to Coach Rd had almost collected the congregation, GreatScottSteve patient with his pace till the "all good" came.  Steadily back to speed, I had the wheel of smoothness ahead (guess who?), Bo driving the hurry beyond the highway while sledges were swapped with the southbound squads.  Joe (not Tony) scored the west leg of Old Dookie Rd first as the horizon turned orange (briefly) behind us, his quick trip to School Rd (or a bit beyond) for Kel to captain us to Central Ave.  Calls from behind about traffic were cryptic, or was the wind carrying words to Wodonga?  Looks like I'd be up for a second shift.   Central Ave to Dobson's bridge again, and the same mental mountain to climb.   My slow start to make sure all were aboard but that only allowed the fast fellows (Lenny, Rocket, Wozza and Bruce) to gain ground, passing our line as I'd reached respiratory ruin a few metres from the bridge.  Catching the tail was torture under Vince's velocity .  Didak was now on the missing persons list.  Mid 40's had sent Tina retreating to the rear, traffic at the roundabout pegging progress for the front runners so us stragglers could rejoin.  With a decent oxygen refill tapping the streets of town, the crew had re-united to convene for coffee. 

27/10  Six addicts.

We are all such creatures of habit! Eat, sleep, ride, repeat.  Monday, Wednesday, Friday at Sactuary, Tuesday & Thursday at Friars.  It's a rusty old record.  But my habitual prologue needed a shake up, a different direction for variety's sake.   Northeast to what was Radio Australia then south back to town satisfied the distance to warm up the old engine.  Easy out and head-wind home got the heart doing a bit of overtime, but a few spits of rain in the suburbs might well have dampened some Goats enthusiasm.  The Cat's start-line was vacant.  Coggo, Belly, Sandy, AvantiLeigh and Ranso parked at Friars to prove addicts were about, a minutes chat in the hope of others fronting (failed) so Ranso led us east. 

A glossy Old Dookie Rd was devoid of DeepFry and JB, two lines in conversation led to the roundabout where it quickly turned Indian file behind Coggo's drive to the bridge.  Belly was saving himself at the rear.  Ranso took the helm to Central Ave while I attempted to get some sort of draft behind Sandy.  I needed to be knee-high to a grasshopper and just as thin!  AvantiLeigh captained to School Rd, Sandy's shift swift but shorter than expected.  I'd been given the lead with just a k left of Old Dookie, and by chance escaping the head-wind of Boundary.  Belly, of course, was quick to criticise.  (says he who hadn't done a turn yet!) Wind in the face hadn't hampered Coggo's hurry, towing us to the bacon barn where Belly finally took the lead role. 

Of course, we were spellbound by his awesomeness and tenacity pumping out colossal wattage to the highway** (850 metres)  The tarmac was dry, the file forging south of the pub as dark clouds rolled east, but my habit of an early exit couldn't be broken, the sheltered path of Channel Rd taken to tap back to town.  It seems a lifetime ago when the bunch would bolt this way for a sprint to erupt on the ChaCha, the brief recovery battling for breath to the school, then the rush into town.  It now seems foreign to spin the last k's at less than full throttle. 

(**oldfoss.com have yet to verify the accuracy of this information and therefore do not accept any liability [directly or indirectly], loss claim or damage arising out of, or in anyway connected with this information.  Belly Corp Aust P/L has made no commercial or financial restitution as a result of this publication.  Yet! )

28/10  The labor line. 

A clean bike and a sparkling well-oiled chain would surely open the heavens - the last minute forecast update had it on the cards - but the "just ride f.f.s!" message echoed in the skull.  PistolPete, Kreeky, Kel, Tina, Joe (not Tony), The Godfather and Chris A had braved the possible precipitation too, so Pistol's trademark first turn towed us up to speed to Mitchell Rd.   A south southeaster didn't hamper him ; liked it so much he drove on to Central Kialla!   Kreeky commanded the leg to River Rd, Kel propelling the Propel toward the bridge.  Smooth operator.  That south southeaster wasn't so savage, I'd make the expected distance to the dip but with Tina in tow it'd be poor form to handover the helm with an uphill start.  Chivalry said to carry on to Trevaskis Rd and let her start on level ground.  She had no battles breathing today, towing Joe (not Tony) for a quick k before the change of shift. 

Clouds hung ominously overhead, a little colour on the horizon outlining Coach Rd for The Godfather to pilot our path.  Chris A's acceleration caught me napping as we rolled into Coach Rd, it was tempting to go full gas to catch the pack but there was a responsibility to see bits weren't broken off the back.  A gradual squeeze of the throttle kept the tail in tow.  30 seconds of toil got us back into the slipstream but legs would have to wait for the relief when we slowed at the highway.  Pistol was gentle on the throttle to Boundary's bridge, River Rd bound bunches of all shapes and sizes suffering the southerly....and The Godfather's sledges.

Scenic sunrise number 2 started on Dookie's horizon to distract some distress, Kel setting the speed toward School Rd.  At least my therapist wouldn't have to endure my traumas about the Central to Dobson's shift again. It would be the distress of School Rd to Central instead!  Tina stepped up to the task of tempo toward town (Vince and The Rabbit just a little out of reach).  Slowing for the streets steadily increasing traffic allowed  chat after 45 minutes of flat chat.

30/10  Frivolous Friday.

A rostered day off had set a relaxed mood but my grid arrival had just a minute spare to board the 5:40 train.   GreatScottSteve, The Godfather, Tina, Col, PistolPete, Kel, Joe (not Tony), Bo and Kreeky had formed at the roundabout, Col first to face the southerly breeze (a little more hurried than Pistol's considerate first shift)    

Boosted by Berocca, The Godfather turned up the wick to Central Kialla, obviously effervescent enough to tow us all to River Rd too.  (sure it was just Berocca?)  Dark clouds again threatened but the window of hope was open till 8 according to the bureau.  Kel parted the atmosphere to River Rd's bridge, Bo minus his mojo (his words, not mine) making modest movement to the dip.  Pistol was next up, with me making efforts to hold his wheel behind, mentally preparing for his likely long turn.  Smooth makes all the difference on the distance (and that southerly was barely a breeze) so survival to River Rd's end was possible though the tank was rather empty when Pistol handed me the lead into Coach Rd. 

Before I opened the throttle, a look to see all were aboard noted Tina on my tail, so a considered speed was built slowly, the aim at handing over at the bridges.  With 10 in the team this was likely to be my one and only shift ; thank heavens 'cause the legs wouldn't deliver what the head wanted!  I flicked an elbow to Tina at the descent off the bridges where she soldiered on to the highway.  Kreeky was let loose on the lead beyond the Midland, but GreatScottSteve's attention was drawn to a challenged chain (recent deraileur hangar repairs had the chain jump the 11 sprocket and force a halt, fingers greased rectifying the drama) 

Kreeky, Joe (not Tony), The Godfather and Col had charged on ahead unaware, so Kel offered the tow truck duty to drag us back to the leaders.  Good job Kel, where's Bo when you need him?  Behind you, offering advice!  Teamed as ten again, Joe (not Tony) muscled the movement to Central Ave, elbows out preserving the pace, Col making the last leg a labor with a determined drive to the truck route (passing long-time-no-see-on-a-bike Meags)   That rostered day off allowed the social stuff at the Butter Factory, good gloves, cheap wheels on nice cars and feeling flat the talk over the table.

Heading home, a second stop to caffienate with Goats (Coggo, Dippa, Ranso, AvantiLeigh and Macca) was almost social saturation.

This week 233km        YTD 9,181km 

  

                          

Muttering mercy.

 Post #568

18/10 Obeying obsessions.

This circuit had been brewing in the OCD division of the skull for a while.  A road not traveled and a challenge into the bargain.  Covid isolation and a saturated Saturday had starved me of a ride for two days so Sunday was all about obeying the obsession.  And a savage southwester wasn't going to change my resolve.  The nose was pointed north at stupid o'clock toward Nathalia, Bunbartha bound and buoyed by the breeze at the backside.  High 30's was feasible but that would have emptied the tank too fast, there was a distance ahead and a lot of it would be into the wind.   Conservation was key.  It seemed I'd just found a rhythm reaching Zeerust Rd when the rear Michelin changed it's tune, the heart sank along with the tyre pressure as a puncture halted progress.  (profanities uttered)  This would be a repair in low light with the sun yet to get out of bed. The dreaded bindii was the culprit and I was pleased to have tweezers in the kit to extract the stubborn thorn.  Fixed and rolling again, I battled the negatives niggling at the noggin, just one CO2 canister left, no pump and no other tube.  The next flat would resort to a patch. 

The likely-hood of a second puncture wasn't worth thinking about.  Logic was calling a u-turn to home, but the head said h.t.f.u. and ride!  The tarmac does a subtle snake toward Kaarimba but that wind wasn't so subtle, the long length to reach the Murray Valley highway eased by the sun rising behind.  Finally arriving at the B400, this highway's mostly minus that metre or so of sealed edge, and in places a with a 10cm drop to the gravel from it's jagged edge.  The white line became the limit.  What luck just 5 cars wanted to use this road this morning, those audio tactile centre lines giving a reassuring rumble as traffic behind did the decent distance thing. Shame the ruts and bumps made it like mixing a martini! 

West, southwest and south the grey strip meanders toward Kotupna, a few roadside trees giving respite from that wind on the west bits but giving hell on the rest.  Setting expectations on speed were quickly ditched for managing the heart-rate instead. Cockatoos screeched at my high-viz presence (or was that the screech of labored legs?), breaching McCoy's bridge, the almost 80 year old concrete crossing of the Goulburn hinted a turn southeast at Wyuna was near.  The short 2k of Trevaskis Rd head-on to the wind was a truely humbling experience. 31k's headed south southeast into the now 30-40 km/h south southwester would make me stronger, right?  Scar me mentally more like it!  But it's all about suffering isn't it?  Part of the addiction?   Keeping a handbrake on the heart-rate and sucking up the snail-like speed, the 8k's to St.Germain's spent surveying the purple paddocks of Patterson's curse instead of being soaked in self pity.  A metaphoric pat on the back getting there, now the next 8k to Undera!  Don't even think about the CO2 canister struggling to deliver 80 psi an hour ago Foss!

That wish for a fleet of B doubles to pass wasn't honored, a sole Toyota Camry was a short-lived and pitiful substitute.  Undera finally came into view but another 16k lay ahead to battle, a few outcrops of trees offering some shelter, keeping the head below the channel banks theoretically helping the aerodynamics. A smooth stretch of tarmac nearing North Mooroopna probably added  0.00054 km/h to my pace, but I would take anything at this stage.  The wind just blew stronger (like a dose of the "Dookie demons" when you head homeward)  The waft from the water treatment plant was like nitrous on the nose but even that didn't help the hurry, the speed sinking toward the cemetery and into town.   There was real respite among the residential part of town, the promise of coffee keeping the wheels turning back to town.   Rocket, Grumpy, Troy, Bruce, Wozza and Boof were quaffing coffee at the Butterfactory as I berthed to replace lost calories, a chat on F1 salaries, Chris's generosity and re-purposing Pistol's chamois distracting me from the legs lament.  Heading homeward the odometer baited me showing 94km, so that obsession (that never let's up) drove me on a few laps of the avenue homeward to clock the 100. 

19/10 A line for labor.

Legs were a little like liquorice on Monday (lamenting the labor of yesterday) so the spin to the Sanctuary start-line was sedate.  Bo, PistolPete, Kreeky, The Godfather, Tina, Col, Kel and Didak had rolled to the roundabout and I was keen to avoid the southwesterly (spooked from Sunday) so lined up at 5th wheel in the order, hoping to score a turn with a tail-wind.  Pistol fronted first (and who was going to deny him the head-wind?) for his trademark turn to Mitchell Rd, Kreeky piloting our path to Central Kialla.  Bo's turn next and a longer shift was almost guaranteed, just how long was anyone's guess.  To River Rd was standard protocol but this was Bo, proving his pace to the bridge before he handed over to Col.  He would have stayed on the front for longer but I'd say Kel's payback would have life threatening consequences.  Col was the considerate captain driving to the dip then further, suitably centered on the road for all to shelter from the south in that southwester. 

Hang on, was Col bitten by the Bo bug to go far beyond?  Thankfully no at the Angora farm when his elbow showed me the drivers seat.  Out of Col's draft called on a fair bit more throttle, even with that wind sort of behind,; it's slicing that virgin atmosphere that makes you appreciate the draft you just left.  The road's centre-line and the two rows of rumble strips signalling Coach Rd's intersection was a welcome end for my turn, retreating rearward for respiratory relief finding Vince and The Rabbit aboard to share the shifts. 

Where they appeared from I don't know.  My focus on Col's wheel must have been sharp. Kel wrote the book on straight and smooth to the Broken bridges and a little bit more, Tina towing us to the highway while Didak continued his Bachelor of Bunch Riding degree in the caboose (trophies accumulating as predicted)  The Godfather made his contribution to Old Dookie Rd, PistolPete providing pace toward School Rd but Tina's Garmin jumped overboard.  A half minute's calm was Christmas on a stick.  All aboard again, Pistol powered to Central Ave, Vince motivating muscles into the 40's to get us back to town.

  

20/10  A few. No phew. (Heady's happy)

East and west, east and west put variety into the prologue menu, I may be asked to contribute to the road maintenance budget of the Golf course loop if I did another lap.  12k's got the legs free of rust to see what Goats may front in 6 degrees.  The Friars footpath found just 4 fronting at 6, Snowman, Heady, Phil and Mitch the only takers.  Heady seemed happy to head the compact crew out of town, but hurriedly handed me the helm at SPC where DeepFry joined the line.  This shift to Dobson's bridge must be written in my job description, the speed set at sufferable considering the few aboard. 

Mitch has made the move toward road bike conformity in lycra,.....well mostly. We just need him to ditch the cardigan now.  Snow took the captain's role toward Central Ave while I rolled rearward onto Mitch's wheel, leaving a little leeway for his velocity variables to the wheel ahead.  I'm sure his speed will smooth as confidence grows to focus further ahead.  Snow then Phil had tamed the tempo a tad so I may have set the bar a bit high at the start.  But I'll play ball and spin with the status quo.  Not often do I see DeepFry at the front, he's usually the last to join and has yet to front the pack when I exit.  So he scores an elephant stamp for smoothness southbound in Boundary.  

Heady stayed glued in the caboose, Mitch braving the front to nail a steady rhythm without obstructions ahead; it's the beginnings of worthiness when he's already straight and smooth, though his elbow was less than subtle to usher me forward at the bacon barn.  It's a pleasant change to get more than one appearance at the front during my brief visit , that smooth stretch of tarmac toward the highway lifting the spirits as wheels hummed, speed spiked a fraction, the effort eased and there was a hint of a holiday on the heart rate.....if I keep talking  VicRoads will tear up this tarmac and replace it with something rougher than hessian underwear!  Adieu's were bid at Channel Rd and despite the fraction of breeze at the brow, time (or the lack of it) kept up the tempo to hurry me home.

21/10  Ten at my tenths.

An early exit from home allowed a sedate spin to Sanctuary's start-line, a pleasant precursor prior to the pace aplenty ahead!  The Godfather, Bo, PistolPete, Col, Kel, Didak, Kreeky, GreatScottSteve and ChrisA arrived to confirm the "build it and they will come" theory.  The Godfather was baited to take the first shift by reason of being last to arrive.  PistolPete would have been suffering withdrawal symptoms!   Like a diesel on top of the torque curve, The Godfather drove a good shift to Mitchell Rd (considering the aerodynamic anomalies), Kreeky then Kel dividing the drive to get us to River Rd.  Wasn't I in the deep end with a world of wattage ahead of me! 

PistolPete, GreatScottSteve, Bo and ChrisA were yet to do their shifts and that made me the Daihatsu behind the Diablo's !  I could be fried before I fronted!  Crimson painted the horizon as Pistol performed a triple shift to Coach Rd, GreatScottSteve giving a concession for the aged in Coach Rd with 5% off the tempo. Didak had chosen to advance from the caboose in my draft, presuming this was a practice for a debut at driving.  Bo kept labor on the agenda over the highway to Old Dookie Rd, the parade of pelotons southbound making Boundary Rd peak hour.  Clearly from the Kel class of smoothness, ChrisA headed the homeward stretch west in Old Dookie Rd, but hanging 6 inches off his wheel for 3k at 40 got me muttering mercy!  Trouble was, he'd set a standard and who was I to let it slump. 

The bait of Vince and The Rabbit were less than a k ahead as I was handed the reigns at Central Ave, but I would applying my senior citizens discount to the distance at this pace.  All the alarms were going off approaching Dobson's bridge, lungs were bursting, legs would give no more and thoughts were welded on quit ; at east I'd kept eyes off the horror heart rate!  Legs buckled to catch ChrisA's wheel as The Godfather and Bo bolted toward the truck route, a quick peek behind seeing Didak slipping off the rear.  He knew the way home.  A bit of traffic paused progress at the edge of town, 'never say never' Didak catching the tail as Kreeky turned up the tempo to SPC. 

22/10  The Belly bait. 

A stupid o'clock spin of the streets got a sense of the subtle southerly while warming up lax legs, though a lap with the Goats shouldn't be too labor intensive.  Snowman, AvantiLeigh, Coggo, Heady, Phil and Dippa gathered at the grid, Ranso, Macca and Damien as Goat guests to share the labor.  Heady guided our path to SPC where DeepFry and JB joined the pack, two rows forming fortuitously (most likely a Cat ritual) as Ranso and Coggo set the speed to Dobson's estate.  Heady hid in the caboose.  Rather than the single filed silence, the bunch was brimming with babble as paired pals chewed the fat on retirement, returning to restaurants and (questionable) Cat kits.  How sublimely social!   (though it does get a bit peaceful at the pointy end when there's work to do)   Damien, a self-confessed newbie, suffers a case of jabber-jaw at any position in the pack, conversations distracting him from a straight and smooth path ahead (hints of WobblyTrev)   

Not the most reassuring wheel to follow. Breathless by the time I'd drawn alongside, he'd gestured me over in a heartbeat, Coggo and I left to do duty toward River Rd.  Westward with the wind off the brow made River Rd cruisy, Snow keeping Heady company in the caboose. Ranso's got wattage way beyond Goat requirements, he and Coggo driving to the dip as a distant red led flashed it's "come get me" to inspire AvantiLeigh and Macca to power on.  The familiar figure of Belly appeared in the last k of River Rd.  Damien did a short shift again (less time on his wheel may reduce my insurance premium?) so Coggo and I were on duty to drive to Central Kialla.  Time was taken today to do a full lap - a treat from the usual short-cut and hurry home.  Belly joined the workforce in Mitchell Rd, the tempo nothing to raise a sweat but maybe reserves were being banked for the flurry at the finish? 

Damien had charged into Raftery Rd's bend but was cooked by Roubaix corner, Coggo and I doing the leg to Galbraith's gate where Ranso took on the partnership.  Speed simmered and hopes heightened for a few, into Conrod's dip Coggo called it quits so Ranso drew the line longer.  Heady had dislodged from the rear.  The finish line became the bait for Belly to bolt, albeit prematurely, speed sinking with 50 metres to go.  (Phil and AvantiLeigh pounced the opportunity).  It's been a while since getting into the mix of a sprint, a spate of single filed circuits seems to exhaust the urge at the end.  A case of too spent to sprint?

23/ 10  Catching the right train.

I'd missed the What's App note on the change of grid and time for Friday, so that explained the serenity at Sanctuary at 5:40.  Back toward town in search of bike brethren, a line of led's swung west into Kialla Lakes Drive, turning it time for tempo if I were to catch that train.  My pursuit was in vein at Melbourne Rd, their velocity (and distance ahead) had the better of me.  They'd plied a path down Raftery, so I mentally mapped a short-cut ; straight down the highway to head 'em off at Mitchell.  And don't spare the wattage Foss!  Mitchell was empty west and east, so a quiet tap to Dave's dip soon had a bunch at my back.  But the blur of Rocket, Liam, GiantAndy, Bruce, Lenny, Wozza and Trav bolting by told me this was the express, and I didn't have a ticket (or the tempo) for it!   Opportunity said hang on and see how long I'd survive......in the caboose.  Bruce peeled off from duty in Central Kialla and rolled rearward, telling me the Sanctuary squad were somewhere behind.  Dropping off the back was suddenly appealing.   

A quiet roll along River Rd viewing a scenic sun-up hardly ever happens, soon the line of  TrackStan, Kel, The Godfather, Tina, Kreeky, Lance, Didak, PistolPete, MexicanAnt, Bo and Col were closing in ; an easier train to board.  Lance retired from the front and slipped silently to the rear, Kel cutting the headwind to Coach Rd.  Hadn't I joined at the right time to be towed; at this rate my turn at the front would come with a tail-wind.  Didak was on the advance for a first time turn as captain, Col in the commentary seat behind. 

Bo set a high 30's hurry north with the followers fanned across the tarmac in shelter, Tina was tasked with the tow to Old Dookie Rd while storm clouds lit with lightning worked west beyond Dookie.  Red faded from the horizon.  We received just three spits from the sky.  The Godfather toughed out a turn to the Toaster, his chain agonized on the smallest sprocket in protest. TrackStan led us to the Pine Lodge church, MexicanAnt doing the swift shift to Lemnos-Cosgrove (so how does that happen when he hasn't ridden for ages?)   All were happy in the heaven headed west, boosted by the breeze behind, Kreeky and Lance leading the way to Boundary Rd where Pistol took charge. 

Didak's leading role was nigh.  The call of "clear" for Lemnos North Rd flung the gate wide open for the young fella, full steam into Ford Rd and gapping the bunch into the process.  Ah, aint' youthful exuberance a wonderful thing!  Col set about a gradual pursuit to keep the line together, Didak relenting when caught.  A first appearance was worth kudos, there was a few weeks work to get there.  (There'll be no holding him back now)   Col did duty to Grahamvale Rd as I mentally braced for the toil next, thankful that wind was there to enhance the ordinary. Speed was manageable, doing the distance the drama.  Kreeky took the turn to the highway while I stifled the gasps at the rear, focus finally restored for the work to come on Wanganui Rd. (hoping a sprint was to be struck from the agenda)   Several had taken up rear residence, the re-shuffle putting me on MexicanAnt's green wheel (green tyre, green shoes, green bar tape, you get the picture).  I was pleased the pace stayed steady ('cause legs weren't giving much more), Bo building the pace back up from a brief respite in Rudd Rd, but The Godfather taming it again on the Boulevard.  Col had other ideas to bolt toward breakfast, traffic lights eventually bringing the bunch back together.   A brew and banter at the ButterFactory made Friday feel like Saturday, the forecast most likely to squash a Saturday spin. 

This week 350km         YTD 8,948km              

        

            

Not talking, gasping!

 Post #567

10/10  A brisk bolt to breakfast.

A Saturday prologue had been a long time off the ride ritual, so what better way to soak up 50 minutes before flagfall.  (Damn insomnia!)  Extending the standard 55k might teach the legs a different routine anyway.  Old Dookie Rd was desolate at 5:10, fog my only companion on the the 20k course that I had mapped in my head.  (meandering the east via Central, Channel, Orrvale and Poplar as a warm-up [in 4 degrees?] for the 6am circuit from the car park). I hadn't seen a few faces since the Sanctuary / shop split.  

Bruce, Rocket, Liam,

Shorty, GiantAndy, TatMat, Boof, Lenny, Determined Dan, Kreeky, Wozza and TatPaul  amassed at the shop, Boof leading the Indian file charge toward Adams Rd.   I'd banked on two rows forming so selected Liam's wheel to follow, I'd slip gradually down the line of demotion before joining the advance, giving me a ton of time to harden up for front-of-house duty.  But single file was here to stay and I was definitely in the deep end!  As Boof peeled off the front for Wozza to drive, I took the chance to slip back to the safety of the caboose, hoping the hurry would slip into something more comfortable.  As if!  Rocket then Liam lit the afterburners and Lenny kept the urgency going up to River Rd.  This was a deep end I could drown in!  40's was now commonplace. TatMat heeded the hurry toward River Rd's bridge while the alarm bells of going ota were chiming in my head,  though some were already in struggle street behind me.   The hollers of "ease up!" was ecstasy to my ears. 

The slow to the dip had yet to bring the bunch together, so in view of the oversized population, I teamed with TatMat, Kreeky, TatPaul and DeterminedDan  to continue ; the rest could reconvene at will.  This was a more manageable mob.  That pressure to perform (beyond my depth) was off.  A speed suggestion of mid 30's struck accord so TatPaul commenced proceedings (a little shy of the suggestion) toward Coach Rd.  Determined Dan took the lead and the tempo by the scruff of the neck at the Angora farm, his body language determined to drive long in Coach Rd too. 

No complaints from me, I'll take his tow any day.  The Broken bridges wasn't enough, it was all the way to the highway for Determined Dan before I'd taste the tempo at the front.   The first 100 metres without any hurry got the line into close quarters, the next hundred brewing up to the prior pace, then with the head down and rhythm right, drive the turn long and hope the heart numbers didn't escalate.   Feeling fairly good by the bridge I gave a longer target a try, an aim at the fig farm would be double my usual effort.  I called it quits there before I had a hernia, and rolled rearward to give Kreeky the drivers seat, finding a string of a dozen now behind.  The fast faction had apparently rejoined back at the highway so that cranked up the confidence (would I have shortened the shift knowing all were back aboard?) 

TatMat towed us the last 2k of Old Dookie Rd, TatPaul shaking off the 'Karen' karma to reach the church.  Our turn west onto Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd confirmed wind wasn't our enemy (at last!), pace only picking up a little thanks to the leniency of Lenny and Wozz.  Shorty had finally reached the business end but suffered the speed by the Main Eastern.  Rocket made the dash to Lemnos North Rd where we bid adieu's to GiantAndy,  Liam taking charge into Ford Rd and amplifying speed with Boof as back-up but Bruce kept to the prior pace with the occasional glance to see the bunch didn't have bits breaking off the back. Kind lad.

Our faster friends were caught as traffic pegged them at Grahamvale Rd, Boof then leading the line into town.  Bruce faced the work into Wanganui Rd while I was content in his draft, he'd do the long shift to Rudd before I'd face the facts at the front.  With a little wattage left at the Golf Rd roundabout I kept the captaincy till Canterbury, the tow to breakfast recouping oxygen by the bucket-load.  Tax avoidance, the foibles of forecasting and football kept the jaws flapping between bites of breakfast.

12/10  Collecting carriages.

I'm beginning to doubt a day off is good for you.  This creaky old engine needed a sharp shove to get going on Monday, maybe the 5 degree start wasn't helping?  "You shouldn't rev an old cold engine" dad used to say.  To the start line with two minutes spare, PistolPete, Bo, The Godfather, Tina, Col, Kel and Didak converged for the fling.  PistolPete rolled the wheels right on the third stroke of 5:40, a foot fumble relegating me instantly to the rear.  No problem really, plenty of time now to prepare for punishment at the front.  Didak slipped into the caboose as Pistol paced us to Mitchell Rd, already a hint of horizon light to see beyond the headlight's reach.  Warmer weather's a-comin'! The Godfather had the reigns to Central Kialla and Col kept the pace on to River Rd, rounding up Vince and The Rabbit to join the throng,  but many probably wondered how greedy Bo would be on the way east. 

Of course it would be beyond the bridge but a repeat of last weeks 6k turn would be as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit.  His elbow thankfully gestured at Laws Drive ; maybe Kel's glare was burning his back?  Kel's svelte spin took us to the quarter horse stud, Tina towing us to the Angora farm.  With the tarmac like a snooker table, head down and chain on the 15, I'd got the rhythm right to polish-off River Rd (though the rumble strips took a long time coming for my labored lungs)   

Rocket and Bruce's southbound lights  u-turned and joined in Coach Rd as Pistol piloted us north, Didak still in the caboose familiarizing the course and learning the protocols. There were plenty of pacemakers ahead, maybe I'd done my one and only for today?  Even The Rabbit had advanced for duty.  Maybe there was an essence of anything-you-can-do-I-can-do-better , maybe I'm reading this ride like a book, but Pistol did the hard yards to the highway, The Godfather see-sawed his speed to Old Dookie and Vince poured on the pace to Central Ave, so it was a single shift circuit for me.  The Rabbit's debut drive did well, careful at the start and brewed for bulk breathing toward the end, a long one too reaching the roundabout nudging the 40's.  Time for some social stuff through town with oxygen now spare for chat, turning for home as others turned for coffee is the tax I pay for a 7:30 start at the coal face. 

13/10  Born again Goats. 

A (predictable) prologue for Tuesday limbered liberated legs in short knicks, 9 degrees near enough to my temperature threshold to ditch most of the winter layers.  The same old golf course loop of 12k almost had a hint of daylight at 5:30.  Bring on Summer!  Barely a puff of wind and almost double digit temperatures dragged Goats out of the woodwork in almost a biblical second coming.  Snow, Dippa, Hommie, Heady, Coggo, Belly, Sandy, Phil and AvantiLeigh filled the Friars footpath, Heady even inspired to lead the train east. 

That lasted a whole 400 metres.  Coggo claimed captaincy and put pace into the recipe.  DeepFry and JB climbed aboard from their SPC start-line, so numbers like this would justify two rows.  Nope, single file had stuck.  Maybe the fear of the front had some stalling their appearance at the business end?  Coggo's elbow had an early suggestion I take the lead before we'd reached Dobson's, so with 11 astern it'd be a one and only shift for me. To Central Ave and don't spare the horses!  The halt for Central Ave traffic may have been a blessing for Heady. 

Snow did his duty toward School Rd while I latched onto Coggo's wheel.  Snow's shift turned to Sandy's soon after but hang on folks, Hommie was about to take the helm.  Speed was keen to begin with but reality took hold not long after, Heady hanging on silent in the caboose.   AvantiLeigh showed how smoothness was delivered, first light rising above the fog in Boundary Rd's fields.   Dippa made an abbreviated contribution, Phil forging on to the bridge where Belly offered his services to speed toward the highway.  Regrettably, the clock had other duties due for me, the usual exit via Channel Rd sending me west toward work. 

14/10  A Wednesday watusi.

The slightest suggestion of a southerly stoked up suffering for the 10k to Sanctuary's start-line, a perfect preparation for pace to come, when you think about it.  And not a hint of breeze when a traffic light put a halt in the commute.  Go figure!  Tina, Col, The Godfather, Kel, Joe (not Tony), GreatScottSteve and Kreeky set sail at 5:40 with PistolPete the Chief Executive in charge of the charge south, a textbook calm before gradually opening the throttle to the usual pace (not talking, gasping) toward Mitchell Rd.  That southerly had no effect on him!  GreatScottSteve did a cautious drive east to Central Kialla, the never ending roadworks leaving all but a thin strip of decent tarmac rideable. 

 I'd won the lottery and Christmas had come early getting the breeze at the backside for the 2k drive to River Rd (although the speed was nothing to scoff about), Kreeky relieving me of duty to take on the east leg to the bridge.  Beyond the bridge to Laws Drive, then beyond to the dip was doing a double shift (maybe Kreeky had tested positive to the Bo virus?) but he peeled off there for Kel to captain.  Two red leds blinked on the horizon as bait (Vince and The Rabbit) to guide Kel toward Coach Rd (as if we need reminding of a course much traveled), Tina taking over at the Angora farm to deliver us to rooster corner.  Col had his quick oats for breakfast, delivering a swift shift north to the highway.  It's hard to break the habit of peeking at the order ahead to predict the shifts, The Godfather verifying my guess to drive to Old Dookie. 

Suddenly inspired to spin in Spring weather, several bunches southbound are now commonplace on Boundary Rd, among them some clown in a 4x4 with half a million lumens of high beam ablaze to blind us.  Going like a steam train, Joe (not Tony) scored the first leg west on Old Dookie Rd (ah, the rise and rise of someone new to riding as fitness fosters and all the trophies for trying are won......til most of us slowly level out over the years then start to struggle to hang on.  I did say 'most' of us!)  PistolPete took the reigns at School Rd and bumped up the breathing by adding a couple of k's to the tempo.  And I thought he was done at Central Ave.  Nah, to Doyles roundabout nudging the 40's if you don't mind! (how good is that recovery from where he was five months ago!)  GreatScottSteve had the last say to spin to SPC's roundabout (finally catching Vince and The Rabbit), the tempo now tame enough to talk as we twisted the streets toward coffee.

15/10  Legs liberated.

Predictable prologues be gone!  Ride repetition needed a shake-up so set south to tap 20k before my usual brief affiliation with the Goats on Thursday.  A summer-like northeaster brewed and 13 degrees had legs liberated from what seems like never ending winter insulation.  To the south of town then steering east then north certainly felt the  handbrake effect on speed. Back into town, Goats had gathered for the 6am ritual.  Heady, Snow, Belly, AvantiLeigh, Coggo, Sandy, Ranso, Phil and Hommie babbled the 2 minutes before flag-fall, Heady (with optimistic fervor) taking the lead role to lead us east.  He survived 100 metres further today before relegating himself rearward (everyday a little progress Heady.  At this rate he'll be doing the whole lap by June 2021!  My guess is that he'll keep trying.  Which is more than some others!)   I'd been handed the lead by proxy to left and right the streets to exit town, finding DeepFry at SPC to join the Indian file of the ranks.  That northeaster at the nose was a nuisance! 

The sense of expectation from the bunch behind (or was it a fear of failure?) unearthed the mid 30's toward Dobson's estate, head low and cadence up helped.  It was a relief to do the elbow thing at the bridge, great to see Sandy storm to the front to take charge to Central Ave but disappointing to hear silence from the back about traffic looming behind. With rest comes responsibility in the caboose folks!  Riding those rumble strips rattled the amalgam.  Hommie's shift was subdued beyond Central Ave, not the boom and bust we've come to expect from the big fella ; it almost ranked as respectable!  AvantiLeigh followed in fine form, Ranso taking charge in Boundary as a scenic sun-up unfolded at the port-side bow.  Effort had eased now the wind was at our behinds and speed spiked as a result, my glance behind noting Heady had joined the missing persons list.  Already at 15 degrees, all legs were exposed though not many had braved bare arms yet.  (won't be long and the grizzles about heat will be on us!)  Tarmac blurred under the wheels for a few minutes before time beckoned my exit via Channel Rd, a pleasing pace to home with that northeaster finally in my favor. 

This week was cut short in covid isolation, coffee consumed at a "hot spot" (identified after) deprives me the bike addiction till tests prove a negative (hopefully!) 

This week  257km       YTD 8,597km