Post #614
28/8 A pair's a peloton.
The company would be nice. Five days of solitary confinement was beginning to take it's toll so a call from Joe (not Tony) to tap a lap was timely therapy. I'd even overlook zero on the Saturday forecast! A 6am start at Verney's bus stop (close to home) was a treat, the decision to go this way or that I left in Joe (not Tony's) court. The aye's were on an anti-clockwise loop of the city's limits (the Covid limits that some of us can adhere to!) with Joe reckoning he was out of form after missing a week off the wheels......mind you it was all stops out to catch his draft for the first shift to Ford Rd. (Hope that was going to wear off soon!) That unspoken but understood sharing of shifts drew me to the front to take the westward leg to the highway, Joe was quick to lead into Wanganui though I felt it fair to share it's length. The "feels like minus two" was starting to nip at the extremities; it'd better be winter's last gasp!
Our plan was to skirt the city's south, so the Boulevard then Melbourne Rd was the route, Covid constraints again clearing the path of the usual traffic. We couldn't miss Wozza in the familiar florescence of the Couldabeens kit clockwise on Raftery Rd (blowing the cobwebs out from his week off the wheels too). There's inspiration finding the sun out of bed noticeably earlier each day, so by Arcadia Downs the veil of fog in the lowlands was a further reminder of the cold.(As if we needed it!) Joe (not Tony) reckoned there was a southerly against us, though I couldn't feel it (numb maybe?), he did the east leg on Mitchell so I was expecting an easy turn north on Archer. (I didn't break any records)
The sun put on a show trying to burn through the fog and just as I was about to suggest a lap or two of the lakes, Joe (not Tony) suggested a bee-line to the Butter Factory. How could I resist!
Politicians out of touch with the real world, how the scenery slows going up hills and the community's saints absorbed an extended social session.
31/8 And good riddance winter!
Was this winter longer than those before? Certainly felt like it! What a pleasure it was then to welcome it's last day, though the optimism of instantly warmer days might be a bit keen. Monday's zero degrees had broken my resolve to ride so the chance to rid winter from the calendar would be good riddance. Joe (not Tony's) suggestion for a spin made it a shared celebration to put Winter in the out tray. Vive la difference for the ride route again ; I'd predicted it'd be my choice of circuit so had an Old Dookie, Central, Channel, Archer, Mitchell and Raftery route planned. Six degrees and feels like three was tropical compared to Saturday's bone chiller,the first shift on Old Dookie feeling the northeaster (13 to 20 km/h) applying the handbrake.
A new path south on Central was hardly the stuff of Burke and Wills but it's nice to have different scenery blur by. Finding the turn west into Channel Rd was the challenging part, it's all so foreign from the other way in the dark! The ChaCha has been missing from the ride menu for a while, a route to reminisce the sprints of days gone by. It feels like ancient history now; those were the days when bunch riding was legal! Back into town time allowed a supplementary circuit south, the lights of three bikes northbound at Sanctuary (suitably distanced of course) incognito in the dark. I'd be guessing who, but it is Couldabeens country. A little light in the sky beyond the truck route and west to the highway was a help to see any Skippy's (most must be in isolation?) the path on Raftery re-introducing that northeaster to niggle at our progress. Back into town and still with time to spare, a circuit of Kialla lakes filled up forty k's and even time to toast the seasons end with coffee at you know where.
1/9 Neighborhood watch.
Conjuring a different course to spark a little enthusiasm was digging the depths of the imagination, seems I'd almost exhausted the route possibilities for something new....till looking closer to home. A spin of the suburban streets would do (small things amuse small minds!) The urge to knock over forty five k's had faded, faced with a solitary scenario; it's all so relative to the fading enthusiasm in these Covid constrained times.
(I should count myself lucky not to be in mandatory isolation and lucky I hadn't succumbed to a sedentary state) The roads, streets and avenues nearby posed a challenge of sorts, avoiding the courts and dead-ends......minus a map! It would make for good interval training and wear a little off the Michelin's shoulders. There were few lights on to show others were up and about at stupid o'clock (so, stupid me!) and wandering wildlife was something to look out for, the attempt to cover most streets and avenues focused thoughts but it was surprising just how much was covered in fifteen minutes.
I'd drawn a mental map of my path and wouldn't it look like a lot of scribble on Strava ;
But it's nothing to the artwork created by 'ol mate WallyGPX in Baltimore. (Try doing some of that!) I could cast the net a little wider covering the nearby parts so soon, and wouldn't that stretch the demographics of the town! From the crack-houses to the upper-classes, there's a lot of colour in the rich tapestry of 'ol Shepp!Front yard decor ranging from an overturned dismantled Ford to a marble water fountain! (street names withheld to avoid litigation or repercussions!)
Emerging daylight had me high-tail out of the not-so-salubrious streets and move up into the world of manicured lawns, stacked stone and portico's (shame there's only two shades of Colorbond allowed!) of the northwest. The clock eventually called an end to my Tour de Suburbia, how I'd maintain the enthusiasm to ride three more weeks of lock-down limits I wasn't going to begin to think about for now!
Six degrees had a hint of Spring about it, but not enough to brave the day without knee warmers. I thought I was optimistic enough with one less base layer and thinner gloves! A jaunt with Joe (not Tony) egged-on some enthusiasm to turn the wheels 'round on Thursday, but Joe is made of tougher stuff than me; he had the legs exposed at Verney's bus stop for a 5:30 spin. We've developed a few alternative circuits in these Covid constrictions of five k's from home to keep things interesting, so a bit north and east then south and west would twist the structure of the average lap. I had no argument slipping into second wheel as Joe (not Tony) assumed the captaincy north to Ford Rd, it'd be a toe-in-the-water on tempo until this old engine warmed up. (Maybe I'm a bit too conservative in my commute?)
Effort came a little easier two k's into the ride, four minutes worth at the business end prompting the endorphins to flow (there's little of that luxury in a bunch ride ; fate seems to serve me the fast first!) Fairness halved the 2800 metre leg between Grahamvale and Lemnos North Rd, the same equation applied to the 3200 metre length to Old Dookie Rd. Four cars city bound made it peak hour toward town, the three bikes line astern eastbound stretching the lock-down laws a little. (Maybe their conscience will come back to bite them?) The clock was kind to allow a southern sojourn on Archer, the lights of Lenny and Bruce heading north as we lapped up the sun painting the morning sky. All too quickly the light show was over to turn the day a greyish blue for the ride along Raftery, Bo and Kel spinning south as we worked north. With the time now ticking toward work o'clock there was a direct path homeward, wrestling with the steering's strong drift left nearing the Butter Factory.
Double digit day had finally arrived! The last morning above nine degrees seems like eons ago so braving exposed legs in sixteen degrees was most liberating, but I lacked the intestinal fortitude to bare arms (finger-less gloves was the concession). A north northeaster blew me south on Packham St, surprisingly scoring a Strava PB. So who creates these strange segments ("Ghetto sprint" indeed!) and for what purpose ; just 700 metres long through residential streets full of intersections and flat as the proverbial s#&t carters hat! (some starved Strava segment hunter me thinks! With issues......) The further spin south had plenty of assistance from the wind ; ideal conditions to forge on to Melbourne if I let whims have their way (OMG! the last Fryers to Flinders was 10 years ago! Commonsense has prevailed since) Laps of the lakes was the lust for this Friday, if only to catch sight of a Couldabeens compatriot to wave to. Aren't we all missing the belonging of a bunch.....
BamBam had a Cheshire grin now that he'd been released from a fortnight's isolation, Wozza, PistolPete and Kreeky all spotted doing their lake laps, most heading the other way (of course!) The effort was easy on the south and western curves but a struggle to keep thirties on the screen for the other directions. (Still, if I'd have wanted it easy I would have softened and bought an e-bike wouldn't I?) The pain pushing into 32 km/h gusts was short-lived with the lap just five k's long, thoughts of a forth lap was planned till I remembered the eight k trek into the wind to get back home. The soft side of the skull said three laps was enough, the spin home having that distinct aroma of burning martyr to deal with!
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| Wally's tribute to the late Charlie Watts |
Emerging daylight had me high-tail out of the not-so-salubrious streets and move up into the world of manicured lawns, stacked stone and portico's (shame there's only two shades of Colorbond allowed!) of the northwest. The clock eventually called an end to my Tour de Suburbia, how I'd maintain the enthusiasm to ride three more weeks of lock-down limits I wasn't going to begin to think about for now!
2/9 A jaunt with Joe
Six degrees had a hint of Spring about it, but not enough to brave the day without knee warmers. I thought I was optimistic enough with one less base layer and thinner gloves! A jaunt with Joe (not Tony) egged-on some enthusiasm to turn the wheels 'round on Thursday, but Joe is made of tougher stuff than me; he had the legs exposed at Verney's bus stop for a 5:30 spin. We've developed a few alternative circuits in these Covid constrictions of five k's from home to keep things interesting, so a bit north and east then south and west would twist the structure of the average lap. I had no argument slipping into second wheel as Joe (not Tony) assumed the captaincy north to Ford Rd, it'd be a toe-in-the-water on tempo until this old engine warmed up. (Maybe I'm a bit too conservative in my commute?)
Effort came a little easier two k's into the ride, four minutes worth at the business end prompting the endorphins to flow (there's little of that luxury in a bunch ride ; fate seems to serve me the fast first!) Fairness halved the 2800 metre leg between Grahamvale and Lemnos North Rd, the same equation applied to the 3200 metre length to Old Dookie Rd. Four cars city bound made it peak hour toward town, the three bikes line astern eastbound stretching the lock-down laws a little. (Maybe their conscience will come back to bite them?) The clock was kind to allow a southern sojourn on Archer, the lights of Lenny and Bruce heading north as we lapped up the sun painting the morning sky. All too quickly the light show was over to turn the day a greyish blue for the ride along Raftery, Bo and Kel spinning south as we worked north. With the time now ticking toward work o'clock there was a direct path homeward, wrestling with the steering's strong drift left nearing the Butter Factory.
3/9 Legs liberated!
Double digit day had finally arrived! The last morning above nine degrees seems like eons ago so braving exposed legs in sixteen degrees was most liberating, but I lacked the intestinal fortitude to bare arms (finger-less gloves was the concession). A north northeaster blew me south on Packham St, surprisingly scoring a Strava PB. So who creates these strange segments ("Ghetto sprint" indeed!) and for what purpose ; just 700 metres long through residential streets full of intersections and flat as the proverbial s#&t carters hat! (some starved Strava segment hunter me thinks! With issues......) The further spin south had plenty of assistance from the wind ; ideal conditions to forge on to Melbourne if I let whims have their way (OMG! the last Fryers to Flinders was 10 years ago! Commonsense has prevailed since) Laps of the lakes was the lust for this Friday, if only to catch sight of a Couldabeens compatriot to wave to. Aren't we all missing the belonging of a bunch.....
BamBam had a Cheshire grin now that he'd been released from a fortnight's isolation, Wozza, PistolPete and Kreeky all spotted doing their lake laps, most heading the other way (of course!) The effort was easy on the south and western curves but a struggle to keep thirties on the screen for the other directions. (Still, if I'd have wanted it easy I would have softened and bought an e-bike wouldn't I?) The pain pushing into 32 km/h gusts was short-lived with the lap just five k's long, thoughts of a forth lap was planned till I remembered the eight k trek into the wind to get back home. The soft side of the skull said three laps was enough, the spin home having that distinct aroma of burning martyr to deal with!
This week 200 km YTD 9,048 km
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