Post #635
26/2 Gone with the wind.
Enthusiasm was gurgling down the plug hole. I'd driven to Mordialloc pier at stupid o'clock Saturday and sat in the car listening to the east southeaster (32-46 km/h) howling across Port Phillip Bay, imagining the hurt it would inflict. It didn't help that this ride would be solo; nowhere to hide, no banter, no social nutrition. I'd really wanted to take on a Mordialloc to Frankston and back (even prepared to tackle Oliver's Hill!) as something a bit different, but the prospect of going to war with the wind along the Nepean Highway with hardly a bike to be seen among Melbourne's traffic turned the idea a bit spooky. Beach Rd at least is synonymous for bikes. Negatives began to fester. For a brief moment I even considered just driving back home. (How soft!) Convincing yourself that there'll be satisfaction completing a windswept ride is almost mission impossible - yet you know the endorphins will flood you later! It's doing the hurt first that's the trouble. (Brussels sprouts before the black forest cake if you like) Crikey Foss, harden up would you!
There'd be a few PB's with 40's almost commonplace to Sandringham and up to Hampton, through "Go Go Juice", "Cerberus Lung Buster" and "Anna Meares Crush" among the 176 Strava segments that litter the course. A few bunches were now sighted southbound, the pained expressions on faces telling the tale of what the wind offered. (And I was trying to ignore the home-bound hurt!) There were twos and threes city-bound but not a bunch in sight, just a few soloists passed on the distance through Brighton while getting the head ready for the real work to come. Through St.Kilda and a blast along Beaconsfield Parade to Port Melbourne made the most of the prevailing wind but on the u-turn it became Brussels sprouts into it! Quite a few two wheeled addicts were now filling the streets so hopes were on finding a few to share the suffering southbound. Several too sluggish and some so swift, the search for someone suitable went on. A look behind found six on my wheel. One or two came forward for their punishment nearing Elwood, others content in the draft (aka wheel-suckers!)
Two others came by at Sandringham to make a cohesive five and worked the wind in two minute shifts to keep the pace better than ordinary. Young Mr MAAP was pulling long turns by Black Rock, to the degree that others just stayed in his wake (ain't youth a wonderful thing!), though I'd scored the wheel of Mr Erratic who couldn't drive 20 metres without a freewheel.....or hold a straight line! I became the shock absorber for those behind. With no plots to overthrow Mr MAAP's dominance, the last 5 k's was a free tow back to Mordialloc, but with wits sharpened to navigate a path around the sluggish south-bounders (so many doubled-up and even tripled in the left lane) Our Mr MAAP train driver was continuing beyond Mordy, so I served a thanks for the tow before peeling off for the restitution of coffee at Tour de Cafe. Post ride amusement was to eavesdrop on the other tables conversation ; heavy tech talk of power meters boosting pace and the aerodynamics of handlebars.....(seriously?) Give me the Couldabeens banter any day! (50 Strava trophies rewarded the earlier intestinal fortitude). Yes, I was happy to have suffered the hurt.
28/2 A family reunion.
Speed wasn't so snail-like headed to Sanctuary Drive and surprisingly, a southerly breeze was against me. (Weird. Where's this improvement come from? Someone slipping erythropoietin into my dinner? Whatever it is, I'll have a large serve thanks!) It was good to be back on home soil and back to the Couldabeens clan ; nothing wrong with the outside world, the variety, the sights and sounds and how others do it, it's just the comfort of being in a predictable peloton that's the pleasure. Bo, PistolPete, Greg, Lenny, Rocket, Kim, Kreeky, Tina, Bruce, Wozza, Kel, Emil and the 5ft Ninja set off south with you know who leading the lap's introduction. Rocket, Wozza, Greg and Bruce were quick to form an advance line, ten in the left line a little hesitant to give up their place in the slipstream while the southerly blew. Emil began to correct the imbalance.......and that got me guilty.
Time to harden up and join the advance old boy ; at worst I'd have the breeze at the port side by the time I got to the front. You can't forget the standards of speed when Rocket and Wozz pair-up at the front, though today there wasn't the battle to keep up. Emil and Greg drove out of the dip and for a hopeful (frankly fanciful) moment, thought they'd drive the distance to rooster corner (You're dreaming Foss!) Wake up! It was my turn to contribute at the quarter horse stud. Darkness hides the 2 km distance to Coach Rd so guesswork ruled my pace to begin. Emil had high 30's on the menu which wasn't so taxing but seeing a car's headlights on Coach Rd seemed a world away.
Could I reach the goal without turning to toast? (Just don't look at the Garmin numbers Foss, the reality will ruin you!) Something got me to rooster corner and Tina as co-pilot north showed me some sympathy with a slightly slower pace. Kel and Bo startled a black cat on the drive to Old Dookie Rd but it bolted to the table-drain to avoid a catastrophe. (sorry folks, couldn't resist a dad joke) There'd be a cruisy conclusion arriving at Central Ave at the back of the bunch, I had a stress-free sit in the draft to be towed into town.
2/3 Defying the damp.
I hadn't noticed the damp road till all kitted up and turning the headlight on at the end of the driveway. (No turning back now!) Denied a ride by rain yesterday, I was itching to get a few k's in anyway. Besides, the bike was overdue for a clean! A tropical 19 degrees and 100% humidity fogged the vision and made it a mental soup to pedal through, though the Garmin proved the pace was quite satisfactory. Half way to Sanctuary Drive the roads became dry. Lenny, PistolPete, Kim, Rocket, Bruce, Emil, Kel, Wozza, Boof, Bo, Jen and The Godfather braved the damp to make it to the midweek social, the tempo tolerable to Mitchell Rd but there was a breeze in the face to face eastbound. Lenny provided an early intermission with a puncture. The restart shuffled me to the back of the pack but there were no complaints ; I'd miss the work into the wind with several yet to do duty through Central Kialla and along River Rd.
Roads were damp again and the odd drop fell from the sky, hardly a soaking but bike and kit were looking rather second-hand. Rocket, Wozz, Bruce and Boof did the business to rooster corner where Tina finally joined, The Godfather and Bo taking on the task of tempo north. They had it set to sedate. Not the usual wheel to wheel warfare we often get, almost tame in tempo to the Broken bridges where Bo rolled across (cue The Godfather's grizzles on a short shift!) Kel moved forward to keep Bo honest. Kel and Jen paired crossing the highway, and they were a formidable force to follow to the bridge where I worked to pluck up the performance to match.
Jen added a couple of k's on the roll so had me speechless to Old Dookie Rd. I'd hoped Kim would calm the pace for my second part of the shift but that was dreaming. There was still work to do to School Rd where Emil took the reins. A restock of my oxygen was well overdue. An excuse for a brief shower (stopped a moment after it started) made a proper mess of the bike and put water where it wasn't welcomed, making sure bike cleaning was on the days agenda, but for now, a spin into town and coffee took priority.
3/3 Morning masochism.
PistolPete was on a mission. It wasn't enough to drive the 3 km to Mitchell Rd, or even another 2 km to Central Kialla. He'd kept the throttle open to tow us another 2 km to River Rd, nudging the 40's if you don't mind, but with his careful use of the accelerator out of the corners, so we all stood a chance of hanging on. The squirrels had taken a few steps up the performance ladder today to join the Sanctuary Thursday thrash 'cause Channel Rd had been given a coat of roadworks gravel. Pistol paced the path toward River Rd, Kreeky, Kel, Bo, Emil, me, the 5ft Ninja, The Godfather and Tina were line astern waiting for their moment of masochism at the front. Kreeky gifted us a little extra oxygen setting his speed to 37 to River Rd's bridge (I'm glad he stuck to a standard shift, I'll bet someone would be drawn to match (or better) Pistol's shift) Kel took us to Trevaskis Rd (a bit beyond the dip) where Bo got enthused to aim long at rooster corner. The body language gave the game away. Reckon he'd caught Pistol's distance disease. Emil was itching for an effort too ; he'd been given the reigns into Coach Rd and turned tempo to 40 northward. Understandable, there was a hint of help from a south southwest breeze (the bureau said it was calm). I could feel the legs toasting at second wheel as Emil's shift dragged on to Channel Rd, the only brief relief being a draft from a passing car to ease the hurt. I'd readied to use what little was left in the tank to put in something resembling a shift in Boundary Rd, but Emil wasn't letting go of the reigns, dialing up 42 on the speedo toward the Boundary bridge. Google translator couldn't define the dialect of The Godfather's grunt, but he advanced to deliver Emil the news of Tina's o.t.a. Many enjoyed the overload of oxygen back at mid 30's while Tina was towed back to the team. (Ten points for tenacity to Tina, demerit points to Emil!) Legs were hammered back to a hurry when Emil resumed his target at Old Dookie Rd though a hint of kindness was shown trimming 3 k's of the pace.
My turn came on the west way toward Central Ave, and the best I could deliver was 38 to School Rd, throwing an elbow to the Ninja before I blew a head gasket. It's been a while since doing the Indian filed thing and it's certainly no easier! The 5ft Ninja speared into the darkness till her watts wained, PistolPete back at the helm while The Godfather showed a little chivalry to Tina's torture. The call of "Car back" turned out to be the shop squad passing like we'd almost stopped. GiantAndy, Rocket, Boof, Wozza, Liam and TrackStan hurrying to the horizon then Trav, Bruce and ChrisA as rejects off the rear. They certainly put our average at average. PistolPete perked up the pace at Dobson's bridge (maybe to use the shop squad's slipstream?) but that slipped Tina off the back. I needed no encouragement to ease the speed and deliver a draft, the Ninja content to make it three with legs of licorice to labor less into town. Coffee would cure the cruelty.
4/3 Uniformity.
The pace was a bit painful southbound to Sanctuary. Emil's eagerness to blur the tarmac had legs and lungs doing hard labor on Archer Rd but I knew it was doing me good....even though the head hated it! This was perfect preparation for the pace of Friday's lap. Is it the end of a working week that builds the excitement? A mild 17 degrees minus wind was a bonus. Plenty had fronted the grid ; Trav, Kel, Wozza, The Godfather, Jen, Liam, Lenny, Emil, Boof, Kreeky, Bo, Bruce, Kim, Rocket, Tina, the 5ft Ninja and PistolPete assembling for the 5:40 flagfall, flying the team colours on kit day.
Wozza and Rocket had fronted first so led the charge to Mitchell Rd, not quite the sympathetic start that PistolPete provides but I guess it was sluggish by their standards! Those of a lesser class hung on in their wake, plucking up the courage to make some sort of contribution. I'd found myself on the 5ft Ninja's wheel (a pseudo slipstream) again as the order got sorted east toward Central Kialla while Bo tried to sort the wind direction before he faced the front. The bureau said east southeast but the evidence wasn't there. Several were savoring the kind climate, only too aware of winter's imminent arrival in 8 weeks. The joy of just 5 minutes readying to ride will soon be just a dream!
I'd changed from demotion to promotion in River Rd and onto Jen's wheel for the advance, the pack quite chatty back here though there'd be silence at the front. The Godfather had turned the tempo down by Coach Rd though Kim still did the sneaky shuffle to the left line, favoring a draft to a drive. Like Bo on Monday, Liam had denied the Di2 it's dose of volts so paid the price of being stuck on the little ring. Kel and Tina captained the crew over the highway but Tina shied from part two of the shift before Hosie Rd, so Jen was elected as co-pilot till Kel called it quits a bit beyond the bridge. My turn at the business end bound for Old Dookie Rd beside Jen had aroma of deja vu. Hadn't I had this same scenario two days ago? Doing the distance wasn't so bad this time ; maybe Jen had set a sympathetic speed for an old timer? (Is touching 40 sympathetic?) So I prepared for part two expecting the 5ft Ninja's bolt west. The shift started strong but I sensed the Ninja tank emptying fast a few hundred metres later, so played cautious to keep wheels level till she called quits near School Rd. (nothing worse than being half wheeled when you're on the rivet!) Emil was called across not long after and with PistolPete a co-pilot, pace was likely to percolate to Central Ave. Thankfully the speed transitioned slowly. 40's became the new standard (the bureau's prediction had arrived) to Dobson's estate and beyond, the single filed squirt to SPC at a similar velocity then carried on through the streets toward base camp. Such pace through town doesn't sit so well with me (I've a poor track record of becoming magnetized to motor cars!) but some comfort came with little traffic to compete with.
This week 242km YTD 2,534km
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