Snoozing in the slipstream

 Post #651

26/6  A prescription called pain.

Smarting from a snagged nerve in the lower back (yeah, it came back just reaching for the kit on the coat hangar!) didn't start Saturday well.  Calm conditions (and maybe a minute or two behind schedule) had Emil keen to spin swiftly to Sanctuary Drive, the smallest pot-hole or ridge in the tarmac shooting a sting up my spine......just to make sure I was awake?  Not the ideal beginning to a solid sixty k's ; a free mind would have legs follow, right?  (substitute Rule #5 Foss!)   Finding Wozza, Bruce, GiantAndy, Rocket, Boof, Greg, PistolPete, Bo and The Godfather at the grid got the negative neurons firing in the head.....this was a bunch heavily weighted with horsepower.  Tina and the 5ft Ninja were more like my division ; I guess we could all go o.t.a. together?  But hang on Foss, they'd braved turning up, why shouldn't I?    

High thirties just a k beyond the start didn't help hopes of surviving so some soul searching was underway just to 'sit on'.  (Rule #5 was on repeat)   Reaching the rear at River Rd's bridge, time had come to make the big decision to join the advance, the conscience arguing I'd be soft sitting on.  What could go wrong? (You're among friends Foss, just get over the fact that they're fast!)   Greg ahead and The Godfather behind wasn't a bad berth, hopefully their consideration wouldn't cost too much!   Rocket, Emil, GiantAndy, PistolPete and Boof had done their bit by rooster corner, Bruce and Bo taking on the northern leg of Coach Rd.  

Tempo had eased a fraction and the back wasn't stinging so much (if I stayed perfectly still on the saddle)      Bo rolled across at the Broken bridges, swiftly stirring a sledge from The Godfather, so I moved up to second wheel while Greg aimed at the Midland.  The bunch split at the highway for traffic so the slow roll with Greg, Bo and The Godfather till the remainder got aboard was a sweet start to my time at the front.  Inevitably, the need to resume pace came and Greg's patience was perfect, but Boundary's bridge had become my head's half way point.  Providing some sort of progress gives a sense of belonging to the bunch (albeit a bit below par) and ignoring the signs of stress the old engine was sending got me to Old Dookie Rd alongside The Godfather.   He and the Ninja provided the tow (and the recovery) toward the Toaster, Tina happily in charge of the caboose.  The aerodynamic advantage of being third then forth wheel helped as Pistol, Bruce, GiantAndy and Rocket gradually raised the velocity into the high thirties, a narrow gap in the horizon's clouds letting a fraction of light into a gloomy morning (better than the forecast fog the bureau had bet on)  

A handful of Cats journeyed east while our focus fixed west on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd, by now my back had limbered a little while legs and lungs lapped up being in the slipstream.  Speed had become my prescription for pain.   On that positive thought, I joined the advance again at Pine Lodge Creek though the Ninja had withdrawn from duty (expecting the energy needs nearer town?)  Pleased to be second wheel as we entered Ford Rd, the sit on Greg's wheel to Grahamvale prepared the head for the effort to come.  I'd at least get my turn done before that bolt to breakfast.  Part one to Verney and part two to the highway was 2500 metres of cruelty, though three k's worth of recovery on Wanganui might be enough to ready for the rush into town.  

That was wishful thinking ; I hadn't factored GiantAndy (nice guy in conversation at the cafe, just brutal on a bike) getting into the drivers seat as the lines split to circumnavigate Canterbury's roundabout.  Grateful that PistolPete stuck to the high thirties when the big guns bolted into the mid forties on the Boulevard, The Godfather, me and the Ninja tucked in for the tow, collecting Tina from her short-cut on Kittles for five to survive as division two.  The workload was shared for the three k's to the town hall, the faster faction visible 400 metres ahead.   Chocolate bars of days gone by, resting and maximum heart-rates and race tactics were sentences exported while breakfast and caffeine was imported.

27/6 Winter's warriors.

Even with all the insulating layers on, the atmosphere still bites at 1.6 degrees.  This last week of June was set to be a test, Monday reckoned to be the warmest!  (Suck it up boys and girls, today might be tropical compared to the days to come!) Carefully on the throttle to the Tarcoola rendevous softened the blow of the brisk start and Emil got this old engine warmed up en-route to the starting grid.  Lots of labor to get to Kialla Lakes Drive was soon explained by a softening rear tyre, so I urged Emil to take the news to Sanctuary Drive (and spare myself the tubeless lecture!).  Our usual commute 5 minutes ahead of schedule has it's benefits in times like these.  PistolPete arrived and offered himself as pit crew as I'd plucked a piece of glass from the Michelin.  

Once re-tubed, Pistol's quality service even included a tow to the start line, arriving bang on the stroke of 5:40.  The 5ft Ninja, Bo, Rocket, Emil, Greg, Bruce, Kel, Wozza and The Godfather joined in to the spin south while my lungs labored in the minus 1.5 at a faster pace.  You'd think things would get easier riding through the fifteenth winter in a row, but each seems colder than the last!  Speed seemed to have settled to something like social standards a few k's down the road which helped when I (stupidly) considered the dismal 70 psi pressure the CO2 gives, good thing that ten still had their shift to deliver so I'd have time to get over it.  (Maybe the canister gave 80 psi?)  

The two larrikins (Bo and The Godfather of course!) had paired at the front out of River Rd's dip but oddly were on good behavior (contrary to common practice) on their drive to the quarter horse stud.  A little overnight rain had provided puddles as chicanes which made a mockery of the weekend's effort to get the bike shining like a new pin (a folly at this time of year but it did look good stabled on Sunday!)  Kel and the Ninja piloted our path to rooster corner, Rocket and Wozz taking charge of the northern leg of Coach Rd. (and don't they make it look easy, chatting away at the pointy end providing the pace.  I'd have to work double time for half that distance)  Wozza was kind to suppress his yawns while I gave it full throttle bound for Old Dookie Rd, the same scenario as Saturday playing out when my head said half empty at the bridge (when it's only a third). 

 PistolPete partnered for part two and maybe that perception of poor psi played on the feeling of having a bone dry tank before reaching the fig farm?  Bruce and Pete took pity, supplying the slipstream to make up my shortfall.  The work west back to town was easier when the urge for oxygen overload calmed down, a free tow while others did their second shift seemed a bit selfish though.  The standards have slipped somewhat on the post SPC spin, the bunch a bit like Brown's cows among traffic and The Godfather's guesswork (and garble) at intersections are cause for consternation.  Just to satisfy my curiosity, tyre pressure was checked arriving home.....55 psi.  That explained a lot!  

28/6  Serve chilled.

Anything below 3 is cold.  The numbers become immaterial. So it paid not to look at the Bureau's data on Tuesday morning, sticking a nose out the front door confirmed the temperature would be a test.  All the winter layers went on, the neck warmer, the thermal beanie, the gloves that turn you ham-fisted.  How civilised it was to start a few minutes early and get the old engine gently climatised to the cold, rather than the icy shock of a rush to the rendevous. I should do this more often.  Kim and Emil braved -0.6 

(I didn't look at the gauge, the Bureau's numbers told me post-ride in the warmth of home) and Jen joined too en-route to Archer St's shops (and we'd done the easy bit, the 5ft Ninja had soldiered through 11 k's of chill from home!) 

It had been a few weeks since I squirreled so was looking forward to the Indian filed routine.  (Liam and Lili had fled the country on holiday and Tina was touring Queensland ; sensible folk seeking warmer weather)  So Emil, of course, led the charge into Channel Rd.  The wind chill factor in the mid thirties certainly got teeth clenched tight and with no protests from those behind, I set a similar speed when Emil had handed over the reigns at the truck route.  All went well reaching the school then the reality of getting to Orrvale Rd sank in (only myself to blame setting the bar a bit high)     Legs and lungs were having none of it a few hundred metres later so speed sank in the last 50 (I could use an excuse of exercising caution for the Orrvale Rd intersection I suppose)    This cold weather is a curse ; legs don't like labor and lungs don't like being filled with iced air)  The Ninja took on the shift to the Kinder, trimming a couple of k's off the prior pace (well that was a waste of watts on my turn!) so recovery at the rear was fast.   Jen had similar standards of speed to the cypress trees so it'd be wise to adopt the popular pace if I knew what was good for me.  

(Emil and I were outnumbered anyway!) Kim's shift to Beckham's bend confirmed the new speed and I had no objections, considering the conditions.  Emil chose to go further rather than faster so I had a keen eye on his elbow to the highway. It failed to flinch so I expected to face the frozen front at Old Dookie Rd, but nothing moved. His joints may have iced over or had rigor mortis set in?  Nope, a determined drive it was to New Dookie Rd.  Without any wind, I had no issues of which shift I'd be given, so the 2 k's to Lemnos-Cosgrove was fine, that half metre of descent beyond the rail line treated as a bonus.  It seemed to be a drag toward Lemnos even at the back when turns rolled shorter on the west way to town, whether it was exposure to the cold, the coarser tarmac or the 1 metre ascent to the bridge I couldn't tell ; you'd think the craving for hot coffee would pump up the pace though faster speeds need bigger breaths and lungs were in a vice-like grip already!  Emil had the front seat into Ford Rd and doubted I'd get another turn at the business end at Grahamvale, so readied for duty at Verney.   Of course my services weren't required for the south stretch to Balaclava (that shift has his name on it too!) so happily sat in the draft thinking of how good the Butter Factory would bless me with their brew.

 

29/6  Twice as hot as yesterday!

Motivation was on the wish list ; so many reasons not to ride had crept inside the cranium with yet another cold circuit to face on Wednesday, though come to think of it,  two degrees was twice as hot as yesterday!  It didn't help the head when a whole lot of labor delivered a lack-lustre velocity to Sanctuary Drive ; I knew it was social speed day but this was a struggle to serve up snail-like pace!  (Tyre pressures were right and brakes weren't binding, maybe it was a reconditioned engine I needed?)  Being quick to grid on PistolPete's wheel almost guaranteed me the last shift to serve, so I'd bought maximum harden-up time as Boof, Jen, The Godfather, Greg, Bo, Rocket, Bruce, Emil, Wozza and Kel got two lines organised.   It felt fast headed to Central Kialla but the speedo showed moderate 30's (I didn't need more negatives!)    

The Godfather's chatter was in overdrive and just for a change, a lot of it was almost understandable, (not that anyone pays much heed). I'd reached the rear half way along River Rd and followed Jen into the advance with PistolPete placed behind.  The darkness swamping Coach Rd was a bit more comfortable now that pot-holes have been patched, there's still that caution for kangaroos near the Broken though.

Kel and Jen had the job of heading us into Boundary Rd and they seemed to be in struggle street like me (it's so unlike them to drive a k and seek a slipstream)  Here's hoping a headwind wasn't to blame ; I was up next.  With Pistol as co-pilot at the bridge, improving prior performances to Old Dookie Rd was my driving force, and it helped that Pete kindly leveled his wheel with mine getting there (and he didn't fall asleep doing it!)   

Vision came back into focus while Emil and Pistol worked our way west on Old Dookie though work was still to be done to hold their high 30's pace (a new social standard?)   A lot more comfort came with a clear call at Central Ave from Rocket and Wozz, rather than you know who!   Second last wheel for the squirt to SPC meant plenty of draft for me and good guidance for the commute to coffee saw a respectable return to standards in the streets. 

30/6  A formula for four.

Squirrels attendance had fallen to four ; one unwell, some in warmer weather and another was absent with a leg injury, so there'd be a bigger workload for Wendy, Emil, the Ninja and I (maybe the absent ones could do double shifts on their return?)   I keep promising self a change of order in the procession, but inevitably second wheel becomes inked into my job description when Emil starts the circuit and others duck in behind me.  (No point messing with the routine when squirrels are scarce).    

Seemed like Tuesday all over again when Emil's first turn had 35's on the menu to the truck route and I had the Orrvale leg again, though this time time it wasn't a thrash to keep pace. ( 6 degrees was the difference, not minus 1!)  Wendy did the drive to the Kinder and despite a mountain bike malfunction (concussion) at the weekend, did well to deliver us to Central Ave. The 5ft one had the shift to the cypress trees and from there it was repeat as necessary.  No snoozing in the slipstream today, just a few k's and it was back to business again!   Emil finished off  Channel Rd and towed us to the highway so I got the Boundary Rd leg to Old Dookie for the forth time in seven days.  (practice makes perfect?)     It's a much different head-space to set the speed solo at the front rather than the pressure to perform alongside another, though making some sort of reasonable progress stuck in my sub-conscience (I'm not keen on the squeal of disc brakes behind!) 

So my spin north to Old Dookie didn't have the drama that some drives do, though the heart was in a hurry getting there, handing Wendy the reigns to take us to New Dookie Rd while I banked breaths at the back.  The Ninja gave Emil the Lemnos-Cosgrove leg when she'd finished the Boundary Rd bit, so all too soon I was back to second wheel again for Emil's exertion west to Lemnos.  Speed standards lifted - I hoped this wasn't going to be an epic Emil effort all the way to town, I was half cooked getting to the bridge.   Quite chuffed to see Emil's elbow encouraging me to the front at Ford Rd, what was left in my tank was spent to reach Grahamvale.  Wendy had the luck of the short shift to Verney so maybe felt compelled to do the south stretch to Balaclava, her slightest ease on speed a k later bringing Emil to the front for his signature finish.    

1/7  Half time, change sides. 

An extra half hours sleep, a slightly slower pace, some social up-dating and a chance to ride (briefly) in some sort of daylight was too good to pass up!  Changing teams might sound like treason but a brief swap of squads would be as good as a holiday.  Wouldabeens it was.  Finally reaching the half way point of the year was an achievement (where had the first half gone?) though the downhill part of winter was still a few weeks away.  So Friday's feels like 1.4 was no surprise.  A relaxed commute to Joe (not Tony's) with Wendy was a strange yet sublime start, their commute to the  Kialla Lakes grid needing a certain navigational prowess.  (When in Rome Foss.......)   Winter wears away enthusiasm in most bunches and the Wouldabeen's are no different, though finding Weapon at the start line and Crossy joining in near Channel Rd (delayed by a wardrobe malfunction) was better numbers than expected.   But five's barely a bunch, so Weapon led an Indian filed line into Channel Rd where the south southeast breeze became a bit more obvious (particularly when you're in the gutter searching for a slipstream)   Shift distance was similar to squirrels and being slightly shy of that pace, I set the Kinder as my target when given the reigns at the truck route.  

It was probably poor form to hand Wendy the head wind on Central Ave but she had the wattage to deal with it, Joe (not Tony) handy with the horsepower too to take us to Channel Rd's end.  I hear Crossy has found form and he proved it against the headwind on Coach Rd, doing his bit to River Rd then leaving Weapon the remainder to Mitchell Rd.  The bureau had reported wind from the south southeast but it felt more like a westerly when I got the introduction to Mitchell Rd.  And so the shifts were shared around in an effort to spread the workload, the strange sensation of a little daylight experienced closing in on suburbia.    Another turn on the front beckoned crossing Melbourne Rd, the rarely ridden Raftery (and the rough of Roubaix corner) triggering ancient memories of psyching up for the sprint.   But there'd be no sprint with this crew today, lower numbers meant higher workloads and coffee at Degani's would be the cure.  

This week 297km    YTD 6,650km

So, Bryan Taaffe finished his (unsupported) 15,000 km lap of Oz in 43 days, shattering the record (held by Peter Heal in 2010) by nearly 5 days!   That's 6 weeks worth of 348km per day to bring it into context!