Post #691
25/3 Struggles and separations.
I should see a psychiatrist about these southerlies, they're doing my head in! Yet again, wind fair in the face to Sanctuary Drive did little to help motivation so hopes hung on a good turn up at the grid for a steady spin.....you know, a solid but sensible speed, a chat here and there, a turn or two at the front to make you feel like you contribute something to the team then a cruise to coffee with breakfast to top things off. Yeah, as if! The only starters were Bo, the 5ft Ninja, Lance, Tina, PistolPete, Weapon and The Godfather at 6am, and here's me second wheel to PistolPete when single file is called (harden up for an early effort Foss!)
Pistol, diplomatic as always, took the tempo up gradually to the truck route, the real pace to Mitchell Rd a wake-up call to legs and lungs of the work ahead. 36's was my limit with that southerly at the side to Central Kialla, how Pete performs 38's into a headwind I'd love to know (I think it's called horsepower Foss!) Handing Tina a tailwind turn earned me bonus points, the path to River Rd my recovery at the rear. Despite the crystal-clear indication of our right turn, a car behind ignored the double white lines at River Rd's bend and overtook us anyway (yet another of those graduates from the University of F You? Oh yeah, that's right ; we don't pay rego so road rules are exempt?) Nerves had settled when up to speed in River Rd but Bo had decided that 40's was the new normal beyond the bridge, stringing the seven behind in suffering silence with Lance doing the hard labour at second wheel (his new Scott Addict might have helped the hurry)
Lance, Weapon and the 5ft one restored a little calm for the last half of River Rd, The Godfather timing his turn to a tee for a tailwind in Coach Rd (but he didn't do a bolt like Bo). The red led at Channel Rd was Julz, waiting to get aboard for her fix. The steady build of speed over the highway was PistolPete's trademark start to a shift, getting 38's and 9's on the speedo not so stressful with his gentle introduction. (That kept Julz aboard too). It does the ego good to manage this sort of speed......till the shop squad blurred by on their lightning lap! Greg disembarked that train to join our somewhat slower one, Pistol maintaining pace to Old Dookie Rd. Another side wind was mine to battle to the Toaster, so keeping 35's on the American side of the tarmac was figured to get me to Pine Lodge North Rd intact (and help some get a breath or two back) Steering a straight line was the struggle. I'd given Tina a tailwind turn again, though as I joined the back for respite the headcount was wrong.
Pistol, Greg, Julz and The Godfather were awol so I delivered the news to the front for an ease off the gas. With all back aboard at the main channel, the Ninja went easy with the effort to get us to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd but Bo worked the way west with lots of watts, too many for Julz to hang on. The suggested speed of 33's only lasted till Pine Lodge Creek where Bo just couldn't help his hurry again (team playing isn't part of his skill set). PistolPete at second wheel stuck to the suggestion and let Bo go off in his own little world. This revised pace worked well till Boundary Rd when The Godfather gave the go ahead (Greg was staying with Julz, the rest urged to drive ahead)
Pete again mastered the throttle to gradually reel Bo back near Ford Rd, Lance attempting to relieve Pistol of the lead just couldn't muster the muscle to get by. A peek back found Tina and the Ninja had joined Greg and Julz. The moment I considered taking a turn at the front, The Godfather took over. Pistol took the reigns for Wanganui Rd, Lance now second wheel, so with some sort of slipstream being third in line, I could draw a breath or two. Lance got the lead for Rudd Rd but the head wind had him shorten the shift shy of the Golf Drive roundabout. The subtle rise of Cemetery hill hurt, but it was the treat of the downhill to Canterbury that kept me going. Weapon questioned if I'd thrown an elbow entering the Boulevard but I held up my end of the hurry to Jordan Place, guessing I had just enough left to hang on to the rush out of Tarcoola's roundabout. The rush wasn't so rapid after all, so I survived the last k to the town hall. Safety hazards and Scott's with Scopes soaked up the sentences over breakfast with the shop squad. Thank heavens I had a tailwind home!
27/3 An escargot on elevation.
A 32-11 cassette is compulsory for a week in the Alpine Shire; hills in all directions make goat gearing essential for this lad of little watts. The nearest climb to Bright happened to be the smallest, so was the kindest introduction, Tawonga Gap (457 metres) at 6.1% one side and 6.8% the other would still be a big dive into the deep end for a flat-lander like me. The 5:50am start had some logic to it; I couldn't see the elevation ahead (what I couldn't see wouldn't hurt me, right?) but legs certainly felt it! It's wasn't far east of Germantown when the 39/32 combination came into play to keep me from coming to a halt (don't you hate it going for a lower gear to keep momentum and there's none left!), trouble was that I'd set a speed instead of a heart-rate and that had me right on the red-line too soon. Signs on the C536 warn of ice, kangaroos and even deer, but I soon had that growling bear as company with the old engine on the limit. Spirits sink quickly at a snail like speed so self-worth was almost as low as the wheels' rotation, to the point of thinking a u-turn home might be a better decision. Kookaburra's cackling at first light didn't help, nor did seeing the tree tops at the peak a long way ahead. Stubbornness finally got me to the top, so using a brief 'look at my bike leaning against stuff' moment as a reward (and gaining a much wanted breath), I headed straight down the Mt Beauty side before that soft option of the short way back to Bright bit me. 7 k's downhill at speed cooled the overheated engine and set the head in a better space for the return.
Lefts and rights and hairpins in the 40's was fun but reaching the Keiwa Valley Highway at Tawonga, I u-turned without hestitation, before the reality of going uphill again sunk in. Straight back to the 39 / 32 combo, the gospel was to keep the h.r. below 160, preventing another cooked moment (or worse; the walk of shame when the legs, heart, lungs or head refuse to continue). It's hard watching wheels barely turning, almost counting stones in the tarmac at times, but engine management was vital to this side of the climb at 6.8%. The few steep hairpins had the heart near the red-line but a snail-like exit from the corner for a minute soon settled it. Ticking off the landmarks on the way up gave some sense of progress though I probably needed a diary instead of a watch! Sight of the lookout was a relief. Most of the mornings' work so far was all for the downhill home; two hours of toil for 25 minutes of joy seems such a waste. (And people wonder why I hate hills!) The descent was delightful, apart from a few blisters of tarmac inconveniently right on the exit line of tight turns, 40's now the standard at least put positives in the skull. Back to Germantown and a few spits of rain started to fall from the heavens, a surefire way to score a few PB's back to Bright.
30/3 Buffalo soldier.
With a head in holiday mode, a forecast of six degrees and mountain in all directions, a team of horses was hitched up to haul me out of bed. A bunch might have brought a bit of motivation; the prospect of listening to myself for a couple of hours, not so exciting! That regret of not riding was the reason that threw the blanket off at 5:15, the fact that rain had finally released it's stranglehold on the week said "Seize the day!"
A foggy few kilometres to Porpunkah and a few flat ones to the base was enough to loosen the rust of a few days off, another dark start helping to hide Mt. Buffalo's 1723 metre tall lump of granite looming above. A few little rises and falls got gear-shifting into order, the sight of the ticket-box signaling hurt was about to happen. I tried the 52/32 for as long as legs would let me but eventually, arriving at the waterfall, the little ring saved me from stalling. Like Monday's mount of Tawonga, keeping a lid on the heart rate would be the only way I'd reach the top. 160 became my red-line. Legs and lungs wanted faster so barely breaking 13 km/h became frustrating, quite literally my heart wasn't in it! (nor were the lungs really) 20 kilometres isnt far but at snail's pace there's a lot that goes through the skull (I'll spare you the dramatic details), each curve or hairpin is hoped to be the last, but of course it isn't, so strategy shifted to to each one being one less to tackle. I lost count quickly. Recent thunderstorms donated a few rocks and broken branches at the roadside, becoming mental markers for the downhill later. Much later! Other than a deer and a couple of 'roos coming to peek at this old snail soldiering on, the serenity before sun-up was deafening!
Holidays took hold on Friday, even took a vacation from the bike; it's back to the bunch and the flatlands tomorrow, back into the deep end again! (Two days in the hills equaled six weeks worth of my usual elevation!)
This week 187km
YTD 3,707km
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