A hard feeling to fathom.

 Post #720

21/10 The Boom! brethren.

It's a rare thing to ride solo to Sanctuary (the regulars were on a Buffalo adventure) and rare to have a northeaster helping me there.  Despite the tailwind, 30's seemed to be the legs limits, or was that a mental handbrake to preserve something for the pace to come?  Numbers were thin at the grid (Rocket, Wozza, GiantAndy, Julz, Bo, The Godfather, Bruce and the 5ft Ninja), the formation swiftly turning single file when Rocket chose the captains role as six bells struck.  Of course there'd be a thrash to Mitchell Rd with that wind inflating abilities, I just hoped tempo might settle into something more sustainable when the wind was against us.  That thrash had become addictive though; Wozza working his watts to Kialla Central and Bruce infected too, keeping up the hurt to River Rd.  The usually late Nev arrived via the truck route.  A little respite came when the Ninja took the reigns toward the bridge, the distance shared with Julz till Greg took the drivers' seat. 

There wasn't the work against the wind I'd expected from a northeaster, in fact it felt more northwest as I prepared to face the front from Greg's slipstream (Fingers crossed it might make this old engine drive a decent turn!).   With an elbow shown out of the dip, time for torture was due; the aim at the quarter horse fence seemingly reachable if the heart rate didn't Hiroshima on me!  The drive certainly cleared the cobwebs off the 14 sprocket.  With just enough in the tank to catch the tail, I handed the lead to Bo, and that ease off the throttle was heaven, but there'd be hurt to follow trying to catch the draft at the back.  Survival felt possible for a second till Bo amplified the anguish, adding 4 k's to the speed.  Gasps were hard to silence till rooster corner (thank heaven for Greg's draft!)

GiantAndy's abilities at the front would test us to the highway, the (now) west northwester making a draft difficult toward the Broken.  Several 'roos head popped up from the fields' crops to show wandering wildlife is still on our watch list.  Shoulders sank and a gap opened ahead of Julz at the bridges, a sign of an o.t.a. to come (Andy's watts had worn her down even at 7th wheel). While all others fought to stay in touch, I couldn't see Julz go o.t.a. alone (and didn't this old engine want a holiday from the hammering anyway!) 34's felt like Christmas watching the 8 hurry to the horizon.  Settling into a sustainable rhythm, a turn or two was swapped aimed at the fig farm, the holes in the tarmac we'd avoided for weeks now miraculously patched.  Bursting a boiler from his turn with those in a hurry, The Godfather joined us at Old Dookie Rd, a welcomed helping hand for our brethren of Boom! (and the west northwester to face on Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd). 

A lot more effort comes in company; probably the want to do your fair share (and maybe make an impression?) but it's the draft after doing the drive that's the compensation.  I'd guessed The Godfather was done at Lemnos-Cosgrove's bridge and took aim at reaching Ford, that wind not as hard as I'd imagined when into a rhythm (but I still craved that draft afterward!)    And so the turns swapped back to town, Julz working the length of Wanganui to earn respect (and her breakfast) where The Godfather took us to Tarcoola. I got to finish the last 2 k's of the 48.  The whim of the wind, dogs looking like their owners and pub crawls on pushbikes occupied the chat over French toast.  

24/10 There was gold in them thar hills!

How indulgent to sleep-in till 5:15! (I reckon I could treat myself while on holiday). A few days in the goldfield area offered different routes to ride though the elevation might test me (anything greater than the home soils' 6 metres of gain would test me!)  I'd planned a 45k tour from Clunes (central Victoria) but I hadn't planned the north wind blowing at 33-50 km/h.  An uphill start didn't make it easy either but it was part of a plan for a tailwind home.  17 k's north to Talbot banked on the rest of the lap being a bit easier (it's hard to ride with fingers crossed isn't it), thankfully the few ironbarks at the edges of the C287 gave some shelter.  The usual expectation of 30+ on the speedo was thrown out the window; this would be a slow slog. 

Doubts on directions loom large on unchartered ground, though there's few alternatives in this neck of the woods.  Majorca Rd was easily found; I just hoped it was made of the sealed stuff.  A few k's east, but being blown about by side winds, I found the metropolis of Red Lion; not so much a town but more like a bend in the road with four houses two k's apart. Choosing the Red Lion - Mt.Cameron Rd found it turned to gravel 200 metres up the hill (I haven't won the lottery yet to fund a suitable gravel bike for that dirty habit) but the Talbot-Mt.Cameron Rd was of suitable sealed specs, though it was certainly rough and thin through the Eglinton State Forrest. 

Plenty of 'roos came to watch a silly old bloke ride it. Mt.Cameron is more like a mole-hill than a mountain but this lad of little watts needed the 38 ring to climb it.  Finding the Clunes Rd eased the effort a lot; at last something like a tailwind helped low 30's return to the speedo.  Barely 2 metres wide, it weaved between Merin Merin and Middle swamps then took a sharp drop down to cross the Creswick Creek.  The trouble with the downhill is the uphill to follow, getting the little ring in use again to find the intersection to Glengower Rd a k later.  With just 3 k's to Clunes, a proper tailwind blessed the distance back.  

25/10 Uphill........in all directions!

A cold Wednesday was forecast but I didn't dare look at the temperature for fear of cancelling the alarm and sleeping-in instead.  The regret of not riding would ruin me.  All the winter layers went on and the bike was pointed at Tourello, regrettably uphill, and more regrettably, into an icy west southwester.   (Why should it be easy?) The Balarrat Road barely ranked 3% but wind made it feel double that, and with my love of inclines, it hurt!   The brief downhill to cross the Glendaurel Creek bridge raised the pace to a dizzying 30 km/h, the reality of snail's pace striking hard for the uphill after. (This would occupy a long discussion with my therapist later!)   The k's to Ascot were equally excruciating, amplifying the performance anxiety.  Just as well I was solo; I'd be solo and o.t.a. from a bunch in these conditions!  16k's of torment got me to the appropriately named Blowhard where a turn southwest had hopes of an easier way to keep wheels rotating but an incline toward Sulky (so named so I could sulk a bit more?) kept the speed sluggish.  The last k to reach the Midland Hwy offered a slight hint of speed and silenced the defeatist in the skull. 

A northwest path to Creswick had a bone chilling westerly to deal with and more of that 3% incline to grizzle about (only masochist would plot this path!) but the 3% descent into Creswick was some consolation.  The big effort was riding past le Peche Gourmand in Creswick's centre, a boulangerie patisserie open for business at 7 and serving a decent dose of caffeine to compliment the cuisine!  The town's exit had another ascent with a (now) west northwester hindering any hurry, though a couple of k's later at Glendonald the tarmac finally pointed a degree downhill to get proper pace on the agenda.  Just like hometown roads, it's pot-hole season here, if only to keep wits sharp and eyes wide open if you want to keep the trusty wheels round and your riding style upright.  Clunes was a satisfying sight to round off 50k, finishing with a strange satisfaction of seeing feels like minus one on the Bureau's data.  A weird reward for riding really (but I returned to the patisserie later by car for the real reward!) 

27/10  Who talked me into doing that?

Hearing the wind howling at stupid o'clock, motivation had dived under the doona. The forecasters had told lies last night; southerlies at 12 km/h was first class Porkies!  The south southeaster at 26-43 km/h was as welcome as root canal work without anesthetic and the gauge offered feels like minus 0.1 to compliment it! There might have been a morsel of incentive if there were a bunch to join (a bit of company to share the load may have been bait) but suffering solo was my only choice.  (I'd softened yesterday choosing a sleep-in, so guilt was getting to me).   

Best get the worst done first Foss; so a headwind to start and (hopefully) a tailwind home was mapped.  I'd made it a martyrs course to aim at Creswick 17 k's south, not only almost straight into the wind but dealing with an ascent too!  It's humbling to turn yourself inside-out driving the 53/25 and struggle to record 23 km/h on the speedo, and certainly something to swear at when the tarmac points uphill. Searching for the little chainring on a 3% gradient hurts the head as much as it hurts legs!  A short dip downhill at Glendonnell had 32 briefly on the Garmin, the wind trying to blow me back up again.   The temptation to u-turn was strong though each k south offered a longer tailwind home.  Creswick looked like Christmas appearing after 40 minutes of murder, so how ironic it was to find the cemetery at the turn into Broomfield Rd. 

Headed northeast was heaven, the sensation of being blown uphill a hard feeling to fathom....but it didn't last long.  A turn this way and that to Allendale and a sharp rise thrown in was the reality check but beyond, the sensation to Smeaton was swift.  Sun on the back bound for Clunes made feels like 1 almost bearable and although the wind was blowing at the left side flank, progress was far better than before.  Traffic was scarce and the serenity sweet, though I did miss the babble of the bunch and The Godfather's entertainment (though don't tell him that!)  Clunes back in view ended the effort but caffeine to conclude would have to be instant back at base camp; cafe's don't open till 10 in these tourist towns!   

This week 203km

YTD 10,904km    

        

The overwhelming obsession

 Post #719

17/10 Who invited Winter back?

Contrary to the defeatist's grizzles in my skull, legs didn't fall off when I got back aboard the habit after three days off, but I reckon there'd be rust stains on the leg warmers at the end of the lap!  (How quickly we soften when the ride routine is interrupted).   Squirrel Tuesday offered a gentle baptism back to the bike, Emil, Kim, Wendy, the Jenerator, Tina and Julz lining up for duty in an almost winter-like feels like 2.  The same faces and the same course might seem a bit mundane, but it's a ride easily remembered. Besides, a decent dose of familiarity is a good thing when you're covering 10+ metres a second just a few centimeters apart. 

My focus of Emil's LaPierre (not looking so brand new now) lasted to  Doyles Rd where eyes shifted to Orrvale Rd, just a dot in the distance (but merely 1300 metres away).  There wasn't much evidence of the Bureau's news of a south southwester but sitting in the road's centre would keep the tail-enders out of the gutter anyway.  Preserving the prior pace, Wendy seemed to cruise to the Kinder while Kim had the watts to tackle Central Ave's headwind and deliver us to the cypress trees.  Avoiding the branches blown to the tarmac by last nights gusts, Tina took over for the spin to the S bend, the Jenerator on duty to drive to Coach Rd.  Maybe an excess of enthusiasm caused Julz to hurry to the highway, the rearmost getting tails up and heads down to keep the line as one. 

I drew the long straw of a shift with the south southwester's help when Emil elbowed me to the captain's seat at Old Dookie Rd, Wendy in luck too, to get us to Lemnos-Cosgrove, but Tina, the Jenerator and Julz got the short straw of the side wind west.  The real struggle into the southerly to Balaclava Rd was Emil's when Julz had enough of the lead at Verney Rd, lucky me tucked into the slipstream at second wheel (though Emil could have sat up a bit to make it better!) Those traffic lights at Balaclava Rd were against us again with the usual shade of red. 

18/10 A hurry homeward.

It was most unlike Emil to sit out a lap in the caboose (shaking off the viral remnants apparently) so Rocket took up the partnership with PistolPete as 5:40 struck at Sanctuary Drive.  Kreeky, Wozza, Tina, The Godfather, Boof, Kel, Troy, Grumpy and Bruce formed two rows behind, me slipstreamed safely in Pistol's draft as last to do duty somewhere on the circuit. (It didn't really matter where; I'd avoided the south southwester that had no effect on Rocket or Pete's pace to Mitchell Rd).  A passing truck's draft got a few excited to turn up the wick aimed at Central Kialla but a 'roo at the roadside turned it down again.  Turning up the tempo again put warmth in the semitendinosus, the slow for the 90 degree left into Euroa Rd and speed up again, imitating interval training. 

Grumpy grumped about the cold (feels like 3.6) but I reckon wearing leg warmers might have helped (Kel just as hard-core with knees exposed).  Background noise was supplied by The Godfather (as always) following a blissful weeks' reprieve.  A shift to the advance line at River Rd's bridge felt that slight southerly at the right flank though hardly worth a worry; it looked like I'd get the time at the business end on Boundary with the breeze a bonus behind.  Wozz and Kel guided the bunch to the Broken bridges, Tina digging deep to reach the highway with Wozz.  I should have called a halt for the approaching car at the highway but didn't want to wear the bunch in my back on a sudden stop; a "Look left" was enough to roll through with Pistol and Tina and use the slow roll to gain a breath till the bunch rejoined. 

I wanted to get to Old Dookie Rd on my pairing with Pistol, but watts were wanting at the fig farm, a slipstream my savior for the last half k.  Rocket and Pistol showed all what horsepower can do to Central Ave while I explored the limits the legs would labor. Troy squeezed the throttle slowly toward Dobson's bridge where 44's became the standard of suffering for many, the rather brutal benchmark opening gaps in the pack when oxygen became the overwhelming obsession.  Making up a two metre defecit became a big battle beyond the truck route as my engine miss-fired under the load, Wozza to the rescue plugging the hole I'd left so I could slipstream with the squad to SPC.

19/10 Six squirrels and a unicorn (& class coffee to conclude)

A bearable 7 degrees with a breeze at the back on Channel Rd felt a bit too good to be true; for once the climate was on the squirrels side!  Molly's still missing and LiamM hs definitely ditched the bike for bed instead, but Wendy, Emil, Tina, the Jenerator, Julz and Greg fronted up at the shop to make the most of proper Spring conditions. The routine was clockwork though the order had differed a bit; Emil setting the spin to the truck route with me playing second fiddle (as always) to Orrvale Rd.  Third shift was captained by the Jenerator while Wendy did duty to the cypress trees.  34's and 5's seemed to be the new threshold of therapy, a far cry from the 30's not so long ago. (maybe we're on the improve or was that subtle west northwester moving us up a rung?)   

Greg got down to business to tow us to the S bend but worked a bit of overtime to drag us to Coach Rd instead (perhaps favoring Julz to get the short shift to the highway?)   Braving bare legs, Tina finally fronted in Boundary Rd though the breeze was shifting course to suggest the roads' centre would suit all.  Emil had the reigns a bit beyond the bridge and kept his shift short, electing me to put in an effort from Old Dookie Rd. Not much effort was needed though when two passing trucks provided the draft to New Dookie Rd. That breeze had swung to something like east northeast but who would believe getting a tailwind out of town then a tailwind back home?  Unheard of!  With that assistance on Lemnos-Cosgrove, Wendy set sights at the bridge while Greg restrained the urge to drive long and finished at Lemnos North Rd. 

Unicorns are said to have enhanced stamina and Julz lived up to that legend with a 3k effort to Grahamvale Rd.  Like most Tuesday's and Thursday's, Emil inherited (though he sometimes steals) the 2400 metre length of Verney to Balaclava Rd, signs of progress today on the north quarter development where some of the witches hats and fencing have been cleared from the bike lane (though there's still enough gravel on the tarmac to cover a long driveway).    Greg got the itch to sprint in the last 400 metres  but naturally, Balaclava's lights went red in retaliation.  A suggestion of Stellar's came from behind and who was I to argue (go with the flow Bro!), the taste buds treated to classy caffeine for a change at the conclusion (but that was a bitter taste for The Godfather at the Butter Factory apparently.  He must crave our company?) 

20/10 Welcome weather!    

 Braving bare legs wasn't so ominous when the Bureau blessed us with 9 degrees and the slightest of south easters that didn't do a lot of damage getting to Sanctuary Drive.  Spring had finally put some spring into my step!  A uniformed mob had massed at the roundabout (Troy, Wozza, Kreeky, Grumpy, Rocket, Tina, Boof, Bruce, the 5ft Ninja, Emil, Greg, Kel, The Godfather, Julz, BamBam and Bo) for PistolPete to lead and, if it weren't for the photo to prove it, Bo partnered him south!  Believe it or not!   Kel's wheel was welcomed for my place in the peloton; a better option than the Ninja's half draft that I usually score.  Opening speed was most manageable (Bo not so boisterous to begin) but Emil fixed that problem with a spicier speed toward Central Kialla. 

The "hitting your thumb with a hammer" philosophy was proved right by the time we turned east into River Rd (keep hitting it and it eventually goes numb!), I'd climatized to the hurt and a draft of 16 ahead most likely helped with the hurry.   There's criticism if you're cemented in the caboose, or even withdraw from the advance line before fronting, so I subscribed to Tina's theory that the mob would just have to tolerate our tempo when we reached the business end, however slow and short it might be!

We passed the Swiss cheese that masquerades as tarmac just beyond the quarter horse fence, the reliable rooster crowing on our turn north into Coach Rd.   The 90 seconds worth of earlier light lit the way north, the caution for 'roos still on the agenda spying several in the fields to the west (was Lili's and Tina's spill really 20 weeks ago?  How time flies when bones need to mend!)   With 5 still to serve before my duty was due, I wondered if I'd actually get to the front before the lap ended.  '51 and the Cats crossed our path in Boundary Rd, The Godfather's hollers of "Wowee" receiving a raucous response. (they don't seem to have any on-board entertainment?)  With wind of little restraint, pace was perky to Old Dookie Rd. 

"Have a look!" (coming from The Godfather) spelled caution at Central Ave, and not wishing to cause calamity with a sudden stop, I rolled through with Tina and Greg when the split second decision came.  The slow roll for others to catch gave a chance for a breath or two and gave opportunity for Tina to sneak into The Godfather's draft. So duty did come true at Dobson's bridge alongside The Godfather (testing his chains' strength surviving on the 10 tooth sprocket of course).  The truck route is only 1300 metres ahead though it seems light years away, and just for a change, the old engine coped fairly well to match The Godfather's 37's to get there.  The tank was dry reaching it but!  

A moment's pause for traffic loaded just enough oxygen to stay with Bo's blast to SPC. 

This week 192km

YTD 10,699km   

Too close to kaboom?

 Post #718

7/10 Rising rivers and rearward retirements.

Thinking only the fast would front had my head hunting for an escape route.  The Jenerator and Tina hadn't appeared and a stiff southerly switched on the stress of being blown out the back of Saturday's lap.  And Archer St in flood at the Broken caused a 3 k diversion via Melbourne Rd to put a late arrival on the worry list too.  Among the crowd of Emil, Wozza, Grumpy, Rocket, Greg, PistolPete, Bo, Troy, Jack, Boof, The Godfather, Bruce and GiantAndy, the saving grace was finding Lance and Julz among the grid; more like my speed.  (If the big boys bolted, I reckon I'd have company o.t.a!)  The peloton's pendulum had swung to powerful (when I'd hoped for pedestrian) though history tells me none had died trying to keep up, or been left to lap alone. (it's fairly clear I have a concrete deficient diet!) 

PistolPete called for cautious k's to commence (spying 'roos near Mitchell Rd on his way in), more to my liking than the sting of speed at the start (old engines shouldn't be thrashed when cold).  Feels like 1.3 didn't help.  (So seeing it's more like Winter than Spring, do I get my money back?)  Bo and GiantAndy had written 40's on the menu through Central Kialla but caution at River Rd's dip (water encroaching at the edges) delivered a little reprieve.  Sitting in Greg's slipstream minimized drag.  Temperature nipped at the ear lobes and toes but cadence was keen to warm most other parts as pace percolated at 38's on Coach Rd with plenty of light at 6:20 to see the Broken lapping at the bridges (memories of November '22). 

 Lance scheduled an interval (just as I neared duty at the fig farm) to wrestle with a deflating Schwalbe, so I got an opportunity to stocktake on oxygen during the repairs.  The restart rearranged the order of course, me now on Boof's wheel headed to the Toaster at a speed not suited to sentences (time for that talking stuff later old boy!)   My turn to do or die (hopefully the former) came at the church alongside Boof when Greg called it quits; there's just 1500 metres to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd but I'd be charcoal getting there at this pace, so I called "well cooked" at the railway line for Emil to pair for part two. 

Sun-up arrived right on cue at the turn west to put some warmth on our backs (from 149,517 million km away) for the drive home, the southerly (11-19 km/h) at our left side no hassle to the horsepower now on the front.  Recovery seemed a little faster knowing I'd done my one and probably only (short) contribution; fingers crossed the 15 others would tow me home!  At just 16 years, Jack (son of Goose) shows great potential pairing with the likes of GiantAndy and Troy and keeping 40's as the fashion to Lemnos.  Sustained high heart rates were eroding energy levels by Grahamvale Rd, though I was keen to curb my recent habit of escaping via Verney for a soft finish.  It was Wanganui Rd or die today! 

On the anchors and rearmost with Emil and Julz at those metal plates at Verney's roundabout was poor positioning when the front bolted toward Numurkah Rd, the thrash at 43's to catch the tail had toasted Julz in the process. Back on the gas again into Wanganui Rd and the rubber band broke (not an isolated incident when pace had pickled The Godfather and Lance at Mt.Wanganui), so Emil and I impersonated gentlemen to chaperone Julz back to breakfast via the Boulevard.  Still working through Eighty8's menu, exacting electronics, follow-up physio and the Miriam Rodriguez revenge (go on, Google it!) kept jaws busy too. 

9/10 Boys being boys.

Using almost full throttle to get to the start line did little for the confidence of completing a lap - maybe I need cognitive behavior therapy for these southerlies?  It was a bonus to find plenty of worthy drafts in the bunch at Sanctuary Drive (Kreeky, Kel, The Godfather, Rocket, Bruce, Tina, Bo, Emil and PistolPete), though being on the Ninja's wheel felt like being short changed as Pistol and Emil set the squad south.  There was the usual flurry of feet and silence (bar one) as the pack were introduced to speed quicker than the commute; whether the standards lifted turning away from the headwind was down to Emil and Rocket's enthusiasm toward Central Kialla. 

As it happened, it wasn't supersonic. Maybe Monday's 'meh' mood made it manageable?  The breeze at the backside got Bruce stoked with speed to River Rd though engines had warmed up and tanks weren't yet empty 7 k's into the lap. Eyes searched the tarmac for new (or enlarged) pot-holes in the half light along River Rd as conversations on the weekend's weather, Barnsey strangling a cat and fund-raising walks kicked off among those not at the rushin' front  (though those with the horsepower have no trouble dishing up the dialog at the business end!)     The rooster crowed late for the turn into Coach Rd (drowned out by bunch babble?), Tina and The Godfather heading our way to the bridges. 

The Broken had dropped substantially since Saturday.  Tina called half time so I honored Rule #86 to level with her (particularly when watts weaken for part two) till the call of "cooked" came.  (easy on the throttle rolling across too, unless you like busting bunches).  The Ninja had other ideas to hurry to the highway (clearly recovered from that virus now).  Pistol and Rocket went easy on the accelerator in Boundary Rd, towing all to Old Dookie Rd and steering clear of the ever expanding craters. It was game-on as Bruce and Emil partnered at Central Ave, 43's even silencing The Godfather to the truck route, so 38's to SPC felt more like a holiday than the usual hurt. Nice to be still counted as part of the pack to Lockwood Rd and spin the streets to the conclusion at the cafe.

10/10 Dynamics disheveled.

Consistency and a slightly slower speed is the signature of the squirrel's spin (usually) so a small struggle against a south southwester to the start was the only hassle in the head for Tuesday.  Emil, Wendy, Tina and the Jenerator gathered at Archer St's shop awaiting Greg and Julz arrival as last moment entry Crossy arrived.  Eight line astern would make a longer train than usual so there'd be longer breaks between bouts at the front. 

Emil took till Kensington's roundabout to get 36's on speedos as Greg and Julz joined the line, that trace of a south southwester helping me to almost a hurry between Doyles and Orrvale Rd. (call me tumbleweed if you like) Shifts were standard to the Kinder (Tina) and the cypress trees (Wendy) but the Jenerator was in for a long drive to Channel Rd's end.  Crossy's launch north at Coach Rd lengthened the line to the highway, holes still being closed to Pogue Rd.  Greg was handed the captain's role a bit beyond the bridge and kept the speed stable, but had a lust for the lead to New Dookie Rd.   2 k's to Lemnos-Cosgrove was Julz' job.  Presuming Emil was in for a long drive west brought me undone at the channel when an elbow elected me to the front, so the 1800 metres to Lemnos North Rd got my task done earlier than expected to enjoy a long tow home. 

Ford's first 3 k's was divided between Tina and Wendy for the Jenerator's job to drag us to Verney.  The slow to negotiate those metal plates at the roundabout (and decipher the direction of a car that didn't option indicators) split the line in two, Crossy's craving for speed keeping the gap wide open till Balaclava's red light re-united us again, the team's usual harmony in hiatus today.

11/10 Don't you just love the serenity!

10 k's to the starting grid wasn't an issue when there wasn't wind to wear me down, though no good comes from only riding on calm days does it? A few were missing on Wednesday's roll call but a rare appearance of Kim and Wendy got the grid into double figures.   Bruce, Troy, Tina, Greg, Boof, Julz and Grumpy lined up behind PistolPete and Emil when they steered us south , the serenity almost deafening without you-know-who delivering diatribe from the DeRosa.   Real Spring weather doesn't arrive till mid-morning so we soldier on through feels like 3 knowing it won't be long till we're complaining about the heat. 

Grumpy was lacking lumens so stayed 'sitting on' with Kim (with a want for watts) as a mostly agreeable tempo was supplied by Boof and Bruce on the course to River Rd.  Social speed would have the balance of power beyond the dip with Julz, Wendy and Tina lining up for duty.  The search for pot-holes near the quarter horse fence was a little easier with line-marking supplied by a stand-in road ranger (in the official one's absence.  A gravel bike has f#@&ed his focus on a real ride)   Matching wheels with Tina to rooster corner earned me some brownie points but a holler of "Easy!" when I paired with Pistol in Coach Rd said I hadn't considered the caboose in the use of throttle.  Brownie points deducted. 

Patches of fog seemed odd for October (not so helpful in searching for wandering wildlife) though a clear view beyond the bridges erased the worry.  Emil and Pistol turned up the tempo screw slowly to Old Dookie Rd and what was now an easterly breeze primed more pace under Boof, Troy and Bruce's command west.  What's usually a slog to SPC was a little more relaxed (not quite 40), the line not so stretched arriving at the lights.

13/10 The wins (and woes) of a westerly.

Unlucky for some, Friday the 13th was a win with a westerly to inflate egos for the way east on River Rd ; what I'd give to tap along at 38's with the h.r. in zone 3!  Needless to say, reality would deal a cruel blow for the return to town, though my plans were to be back in the slipstream before then.  Cloud cover darkened Sanctuary Drive's views but lots of lumens from BamBam, Rocket, Julz, Boof, Tina, Bo, Emil, Greg, Bruce, Kel, the 5ft Ninja and Kreeky lit up PistolPete and Troy's drive south.  Legs were doing hard labor to Mitchell Rd, disappointingly the Garmin was barely registering 36's. 

Effort eased and pace picked up headed to Central Kialla under Troy and Emil's guidance.  Peace reigned again in The Godfather's absence (Grumpy was missing too, come to think of it) and all that stress about labour earlier had evaporated by River Rd (thanks to that wind up the wastegate and the draft from the horsepower ahead)  while BamBam and Bruce guided us around the enlarging craters.  We've had a holiday from the "Full Block" hollers this week, Kel calling half time at the bridges after a solid turn with Boof from rooster corner.  Tina played her co-pilot to the highway. Cats numbered 5, a far cry from the 20+ of years ago. 

My (one and only) donation came in Boundary Rd, careful to comply with Tina's tempo and preserving some pace for the Ninja's certain fervor for part two. Requested to roll at the bridge, I tried to hold a wheel back from the 5ft one as a hint, but hurry was her want.  That eagerness evaporated nearing the fig farm though, so I was demoted to second wheel to get half a draft.  Pistol was asked to roll a few hundred metres later so a real draft finally came,  The (now) west northwester had little hope against Troy and Pistol's pace toward Central Ave, Bo and Rocket lining up behind for their demonstration of driving to come. 

Julz had probably advanced a little too close the front (and too close to kaboom) arriving at the truck route, determination drying up as Rocket lit the afterburners toward SPC.  The ever watchful PistolPete and I did the nice guy thing to donate the draft back to the Butter Factory. Teams that start together, finish together don't they?

This week 264km

YTD 10,507                 

Where do I buy a bucketful?

 Post #717

30/9 An amicable separation.

Spring had sprung the inevitable competitive itch.  The shop squad had reformed, mustering their muscles for a Saturday thrash yet a few of them were found among the faithful at Sanctuary's grid. (A factional insurrection brewing?) The blend of have's and have not's (horsepower that is) got rolling at six, the have's at the front and the have not's behind, with a fairly spirited speed under Pistol and Wozza's watch to Mitchell Rd.  Division two's had fronted in River Rd at a less perspiring pace, so it was no surprise when Pistol, Nev, Rocket, Wozz and Boof bid their adieu's and bolted toward the horizon.  The pressure on pace was off for Greg, the Jenerator, BamBam, Tina, Julz and I to slip into something more comfortable (this separation was a bonus for both bunches). 

Seems snakes are on the comeback with a few flat ones (the best type) decorating the tarmac and it's breeding season for pot-holes, seemingly multiplying by the week .  Us sedate six had settled into sustainable 34's on Coach Rd as the faster faction stretched ahead to the horizon. The prospect of the pursuing shop squad sunk in, and that developed an itch for Greg to jump aboard, but in Boundary Rd Jack, Trav, KnightMichael and Liam cruised in behind to join us (seems GiantAndy had punctured earlier, taking the sting out of their speed).  By Pine Lodge church they'd been promoted to the front and with the west northwester doing an about-face, a vague sort of east southeaster would boost the pace for the 13 k's homeward.  37's seemed agreeable (or was that silence just suffering?) 

Thoughts are often thrashed out on Ford Rd's first leg ; what watts are wanted for Wanganui Rd, where to be placed in the pack (to play a part in pace or hide from the hurt) or even just judge what's left in the tank.  Today the sum total of a big week (too much riding, not enough rest?) had added up to side with Tina and Julz on their choice of escape via Verney.  

Content consuming coffee at the cafe, Back in Nan and Pop's day and the Day of the Dead kept conversations cruising.   

2/10 Back in the black.

Monday's come standard with lethargy (even when you don't have to go to work!) and this one had cold and darkness thrown in (curse that feels like 2.2 and daylight savings; I was almost enjoying Spring till it went o.t.a!)  Just engaged, Emil and Kim had handed in their Queensland holiday (to enjoy the winter-like weather back home?) to join with Tina and Wendy and tour south where Troy, Rocket, Wozza, Bruce, The Godfather, Bo, PistolPete, Kreeky, Kel, the 5ft Ninja and Greg had gathered at the grid.  Emil and Wozz captained a considerate start but it soon felt cruel beyond the truck route; though the speedo only showed 36's (It' Monday Foss; any speed stings after foolishly taking a day off!)   

There was little to complain about really; as last in line for duty I had nearly half an hour to harden up before facing the front.  Today's Cheshire cat was Bruce aboard a new BMC (though Kim's new ring grin probably outranked it) and despite the inevitable minor adjustments needed, the only pain he felt was in the wallet.   Troy felt the smoothness of a new chain, cassette and chainring (horsepower probably hammered the last ones) but all I needed was a new engine.  38's to River Rd was ruining me (to the point of considering sitting on).  Just as well Wendy, Tina, Kim and the Ninja had joined the advance to get me thinking why shouldn't I? 

Darkness beyond the headlight's beam had some nerves on edge about wildlife, even a humble rabbit suddenly seen running at the roadside posed the threat of a major horizontal malfunction, disaster for a sizeable bunch. Long drives gave way for shorter (and sometimes slower) shifts as the slower ranks reached the business end, The Godfather gracious with his speed alongside Tina but keen on the throttle as Kel became the co-pilot.  The Ninja braved a brief appearance at the front in Old Dookie Rd but called Kim across soon after for me to pair the pace. Part one was over before School Rd.  I'd tried to reach Central Ave with Emil alongside but blamed Monday for feeling cooked before the rumble strips. (I gotta break that habit of flogging a dead horse!)  Wozza and Emil's hurry to the truck route hurt, so the bottom of the tank was searched for something to get to SPC (the fast were gifted a green light, and that made more work to bridge an opening gap)

5/10 Wonderful one way, work the other. 

Rain put a halt to the habit on Tuesday and Wednesday so several had cravings for k's, regardless of Thursday's weather.  A 30k westerly and feels like 1.8 couldn't deter Wendy, Kim, Emil and Tina from swinging a leg over a saddle, their eagerness to front-up getting Greg guilty for suggesting he may pull the pin. A new pair of 25mm tyres put comfort into my wheels turning at 5:05, the roadholding remarkable when changing from (new old stock) 23's.  (Wondered why they were cheap!)   Channel Rd would be bliss with all that wind (20-30 km/h) up the personal exhaust pipe, but I tried to ignore what lay ahead for the way back home.  (It'd hurt). 

Greg's heads-up on a few branches blown onto the tarmac helped steer a safe passage for the 8k's east to Coach Rd, all six sharing in the ego-inflating sensation of 35 k's per hour without a lot of labor to sustain it.  Of course that sensation doesn't come for free; there'd be a price to pay on Lemnos-Cosgrove and Ford.  Boundary Rd wasn't much fun as the westerly wrestled with the wheels attempt to stay straight, Emil kind enough to shorten his shift so most played a part in getting to Lemnos-Cosgrove Rd.  The short straw was drawn by Tina to face the headwind first, but she'd had a big serve of determination for breakfast to drive to the bridge. Greg's two metres of elevation helped tow us to Lemnos. 

Sitting second wheel, I sensed a certain sit in Emil's perch aboard the La Pierre on Ford Rd;  a stubborn stature that said I'm in for the long haul.  His speed standards weren't stinging but hanging on for 4 k's to Verney Rd gave me a big dose of second wheel syndrome.  I was honored given that most venerable Verney to Balaclava leg though.  Feeling a little southerly in the westerly suggested I should set a speed to keep the crew together (not that I had the horsepower to drop any off the back) so naturally Emil and Greg got itchy with 300 metres to go.   Tina, Wendy, Kim and I weren't about to chase but we paid the red light price as the sprinters got green.  

6/10 Friday's foray.

The battle to get out of bed was equaled by the battle against the southwester just to get to the grid (credit to Emil providing tow truck duties half way to Sanctuary's start line)  Now to survive a lap!   The fellowship of Friday's kit day helped the hardening up process - the real task was to hang on while PistolPete and Troy set Rocket, Bruce, Tina, Boof, Wozza, Kel, Emil, Bo, Kreeky and Greg southbound.  So, how do they drive at 37's into a 17 km/h headwind? (and where do I buy a bucketful?)   A start at the back of the pack might have been a tactical masterstroke, all being well I'd get a turn with a favorable wind though The Godfather's late arrival meant I'd drawn his wheel in the advance.

Bo planned his turn to a tee, that tailwind spurring him into the 40's to River Rd, a speed not so kosher with some (though I reckon I'd find a few friends with my version of velocity later).   Lance arrived in River Rd from a shortcut via the truck route, Greg matching Boof's drive beyond the quarter horse fence so he'd earned a short part two to rooster corner. My turn did have a favorable wind with The Godfather in Coach Rd though he was keen to stay a wheel ahead. I wasn't falling for that trick of keeping level (that only eggs him on!) so holding a wheel back got me to the bridges without bursting a boiler.  It's another 2 k's to the highway and I could sense "Full Block" being hollered by The Godfather as Emil drew alongside, but pushing my own limits was the incentive to stay in the front seat (I'd probably regret it reaching Boundary Rd)

"Shoot for the moon" they say. "Even if you miss, you land among the stars" they say.......Yeah, I was seeing stars crossing the Midland as Emil and Kel took over for the drive into Boundary.  (The kudos was nice.  A fresh set of lungs would be nicer!)  Kreeky and Lance's idea of pace won my vote in Old Dookie Rd (the world had come back into focus by then) though the division one's would most likely cause some stress aimed at the truck route.  Troy tested my struggle to hang onto the tail toward SPC, the rubber band breaking at Wheeler St and hopes broke too when that new traffic light turned red for my arrival.

This week 210km

YTD 10,241km