The test of testicular tenacity.

Post #653

12/7  An elephant stamp for Emil.

Hot and cold flushes, the nasty rash, fractious behavior and that random tremor all vanished on Tuesday morning.  Finally back on the bike after three days off and "normal" started to return (if you call charging into the dark and cold of stupid o'clock when you could be toasty warm in bed "normal"!0   A steady spin with a few squirrels would be a gentle re-introduction to the two wheeled habit and the southern spin to the shop start line was no drama at all  (a breeze at the backside was giving me the black forest gateau before the Brussels sprouts though!)     Only Emil, Wendy and the 5ft Ninja had fronted, the moment's wait for another was courteous but ridiculously optimistic (high time all these absentees returned I reckon!)    Un-elected but unopposed, captain Emil took to Channel Rd like Rocket takes to a brewery and I wasn't going to snooker others into second wheel, so took up my expected role as No.2 while Emil turned up the tempo.  

Mid thirties wasn't too taxing, though with just four on duty there'd be several shifts to serve. That usual 1200 metres to Orrvale Rd opened my account and handing over to Wendy when I'd reached there, the world was surprisingly still in focus.  (Maybe three days off had done me some good?)   The Ninja did the leg to the cypress trees and the shifts started again but that got me thinking Emil would drive to the end of Channel Rd or maybe to the highway, so I'd get the elbow for the Midland to Old Dookie shift yet again!  (thinking too much again Foss......)   The swing north onto Coach Rd got eyes focused on Emil's elbow, expecting anything, but it seemed I'd be spared the repetition of the turn that haunts me when he  forged on to the Boundary bridge and beyond.   

Mid thirties was still the standard despite the breeze at the brow but Emil's younger and a bit lower to the tarmac......well, that's my take on his tempo.  Still no sign at Old Dookie, I'd braced for the handover at New Dookie Rd but Emil earned an elephant stamp for effort dragging us to Lemnos-Cosgrove instead.  And that set the bar high for me to do something decent too (though not quite the epic proportions of  his 9k drive at the front)   3300 metres to Lemnos North Rd might be ranked as reasonable.  That north northeast breeze wasn't too bad so I got to the target without the audio of an amplified asthmatic. Wendy however seemed to be working overtime on the first leg of Ford (shouldn't play on other folks struggles, though it does lift your own hopes a little)   The Ninja did the Grahamvale to Verney leg and started the southbound stuff to Balaclava, but that stretch of tarmac has Emil's name engraved on it so he towed us to the finish line.  

13/7  A strange serenity.

Despite the Antarctic west southwester on Wednesday (feels like minus 1) a few had fronted (Kreeky, Lance, Wozza, Boof, Wendy, Kel, Bruce, PistolPete. Greg, Bo, the 5ft Ninja, Emil and Rocket) for a mid-week social spin - if those standards still apply! (Wendy was banking on it!) PistolPete stuck to his habit of a smooth and steady start to proceedings to the truck route and built the tempo from there (not that anyone behind should complain being towed while he faced the icy wind to take us to Mitchell Rd.)  

Lance had braved a chilly comeback from seven weeks worth of West Australian warmth and Kreeky was on a search for fitness following an industrial strength cold.  Central Kialla's chill wasn't making it easy on either of them.  Wozza's vigorous waving wasn't a greeting but an attempt to get circulation to the fingers as the bunch settled into something sort of social eastbound along River Rd.  Placement in the pack seemed perfect to score me a prevailing wind when I got to the business end 'cause shifts were shortening as lungs tried to cope with processing the icy atmosphere.  Kel and the 5ft Ninja led the last k to rooster corner (still crows in the cold), the turn north into Coach Rd revising the Ninja's commitment to part two. 

Wendy was called across within a few hundred metres and I'd prepared for the long shift to the bridges but watts were on her want list too, so preparations were used to pair with Wozz to the highway instead.  Calls were clear and concise today, and the usual white noise was missing.....a strange serenity in the squad for a change.   I wondered why?  Something was missing.....

Rocket and Wozz applied their spice to the social speed north to Old Dookie Rd and you can't blame them really (Formula One's idle at 5,000 rpm don't they?)   At least it continued the peace and quiet (ignoring the huffs and puffs).  The reality of a head wind home pegged the pace a little and turns at the pointy end became less heroic but I hadn't a worry in the world having done my one and only shift and being towed back to town.  The few breaths banked in the slipstream were quickly spent on the squirt to SPC anyway. 

14/7  Thursday's thuffering. 

Squirrels seem to be on a sinking ship!  With only three at the shop, the switch to the Sanctuary squad was the sensible alternative, though it took the head into a difference space - substantially more speed than the squirrels was now on the 'to do' list.   The fight into a southwester to the start line would mean mostly prevailing winds for the circuit though.  PistolPete, Wozza, Boof and Rocket were a.w.o.l. so I was quick to attach to Emil's wheel when he berthed as No 1 on the grid at 5:39.   

Greg, the 5ft Ninja, Grumpy, Bo, Bruce, Kel, Kreeky and The Godfather lined up for duty but the format stayed Indian file when Emil pulled the chocks away at 5:40.   Shift that head-space to hurry Foss, you're up next! (nothing like a change of routine to test you eh?)   I suppose the southwester for the path east would be some sort of help.  Given the lead role when Emil turned us into Mitchell Rd, I'd almost stunned self to be sticking to 37's (I hadn't planned that sort of hurry) though the slightest of downhills (a descent of half a metre in a hundred) would be the reason.  A kilometre in, the check on pace was probably a bad idea ; speed was still ok but the mistaken glance at the heart rate spelled impending implosion.  And the target was still 900 metres beyond (hopes turned to hopeless)   Maintaining some sort of team tempo stoked up the stubbornness to make it to Euroa Rd. 

 I'd silenced the sounds of a growling bear when many delivered kudos as I rolled rearward for recovery, sucking in bucket loads of feels like minus 1 chilled air wasn't the comfort I was looking for but the kind words helped the head while it dealt with the hurt.   The 5ft Ninja led a slightly slower speed to River Rd so that fast tracked recuperation.  Grumpy was made captain for the first k's of River Rd, Bruce taking over at the bridge but my concern was what The Godfather had in store at the dip after his five days absence.  Nothing nasty as it happened, the usual three k effort to rooster corner with a little of the variable velocity he's famous for.  Bo had the southwester in his favor to head us north into Coach Rd but shortened his shift at the bridge.  Kreeky wasn't running so well on the cold air intake so gave Kel the captaincy at Channel Rd. (of course she delivered a decent drive to Boundary Rd's bridge.  More hurt was on my agenda as Greg turned up the torment to touch 40 toward Old Dookie Rd but the worry was being second wheel to Emil as he faced the wind toward town.  I'd almost expected his elbow at School Rd, given the watts needed to hold high 30's but he continued to Central Ave.  I'd almost taken the drivers seat across the intersection but Emil continued holding the reigns, so Dobson's was now my "grin and bear it" point.    Oh no it wasn't!   Emil's effort continued to the truck route ; trouble was I was cooked just getting there! So when I'd finally faced the front for the swift bit to SPC, it became spectacularly sluggish.  Running on empty I think you call it. 

15/7  Winters' worst?

This was the seventeenth day of three degrees or below; my line in the sand that defines cold from cool.  Trouble is that historically, we get at least thirty per year so there's even more to endure!  Greg's right, we need a few concrete trucks worth of h.t.f.u. delivered!   Particularly today, minus two at 5am was a real test of testicular tenacity!   It did help to find others braving the conditions (if only to substantiate one's own stupidity!) so hats off to Wozza, Greg, Emil, the 5ft Ninja, Bruce, Kel, Boof, PistolPete, The Godfather, Bo and BamBam (yep, it wasn't a hologram, he was really there and didn't he choose the day for a comeback!) turning up to minimize my madness a bit.   

Kel was the class act to follow as the dozen got sorted southbound with PistolPete and Emil tough enough to face the chill factor first.  It was certainly cold enough in the ranks of the not-so-tough behind!  Temperature kept The Godfather somewhat silent.  Fog became the factor reaching River Rd, Bruce calling a brief halt (to the chorus of a dozen damp discs howling their protests of pausing ; almost in harmony) to pocket fogged specs in the interest of knowing where the road was.  The big test was tolerating the chill on the resumption of business  (Plenty of cadence and adrenaline made a marginal difference)    

Behind Greg as he and The Godfather did their duty to rooster corner wasn't too taxing, there was a discount applied to standard speed so lungs didn't ice over, though facing the front in Coach Rd found the chill factor two fold as I fought to keep a credible speed alongside Greg.  The Garmin had inexplicably turned itself off but it probably helped that there wasn't the numbers of a sluggish speed and a high heart rate to hassle the head.  The Broken bridges was well beyond my half way point when I'd rolled across, so how kind was Kel offering to loan a draft at Channel Rd and put me out of my misery!  Lungs hurt a lot filling with frozen stuff to the highway.  By Boundary Rd I could speak a few words but Wozz was stumped for an answer to my question of why we were doing this (he was probably grateful there were others along to blame.  How silly you'd be doing this solo!!!)  

BamBam and the Ninja had chosen to stay in the 0.0003 degree warmer seats of the caboose as Boof then Emil did the towing duties toward town, picking up pace beyond the truck route while I burned the last dregs of energy to stay in touch (in an effort to be recognized as a part of the bunch).  Not only did the Butter Factory coffee taste even better, it partially thawed the fingers!

This week  184km         YTD   7,142km   

    

A sight for sore legs.

 Post #652

2/7  Paying penance with pace.

GiantAndy joining the commute to Sanctuary spurred some extra speed ; can't have that big engine stalling in the low 30's !  That extra effort was eating into my reserves by Kialla Lakes so I was grateful a kangaroo bounded erratically along Waranga Drive to put some caution in the pace.  A small grid at Sanctaury Drive (Emil, Wozza, PistolPete, Bo, The Godfather, Greg, GiantAndy and Rocket) was boosted by Nev, Weapon and Crossy joining in, so odds of surviving the circuit improved a bit.  There's safety in numbers.   Hopes heightened a little more when three red leds appeared at Archer Rd's end, TatMat, DeterminedDan and TatPaul had made the trek from Tat to swell the numbers further.  

Nerves had calmed a tad with a few more of my league, the fresh spin to Central Kialla settling into a sort of social groove bound for River Rd.  A solitary light approaching from the truck route seemed a bit shy of getting aboard as we steered east but Nev and Crossy on the front were already cruising to let the Johnny-come-lately catch.  Superman was dragged up to the back of the bunch , the momentum returning at River Rd's bridge.   It doesn't really matter what wheel you're on in this crew  'cause none are in the habit of tearing your legs off, it's just that some make more comfortable co-pilots than others!  

TatMat's compliant (and has sympathy for seniors!), any reservations about joining the advance vanishing with Greg as partner for part two.  The chill of minus one kept cadence keen in Coach Rd, getting those Garmin numbers up in preparation for the work to face when out of the draft.  Weapon's term at the front in Boundary Rd was brief so TatMat rolled across at the bridge, leaving the door open for my drive north (that stretch to Old Dookie Rd again ; five times in eight days!)    TatMat and I might have been a k off the pace but we'd both planned to get the 2 k's done without cardiac arrest (this was TatMat's first real road bike ride in three months apparently, yet no signs off stress ; I must get the recipe!)     

Greg's happy to give a pensioners discount and kindly rolled across at Old Dookie's bridge when I couldn't ignore the complaints from heart and lungs any longer.  (isn't it funny that in that first few moments of a draft there's already calculations underway of when the next turn is due!)    Superman wasn't saying much in second wheel of the advance so when he paired with Bo across New Dookie, a short shift wasn't surprising.  Rocket and Wozz lifting the tempo a touch toward Lemnos-Cosgrove was the Kryptonite though, Superman slipping swiftly to the rear.  Strangely, The Godfather took up residence at the rear too.  I'd perfectly timed my shift to the advance line at Pine Lodge Creek, into the shelter from the slight south southwester that was slowly wearing away the watts.  (I was greedy, lots were needed for the highly likely second shift, calculated to be near the real work to face into town)  DeterminedDan showed his grit alongside GiantAndy on Ford Rd while I gritted teeth readying for the turn beyond Verney Rd (just my luck part two would be into Wanganui Rd)   

DeterminedDan's bidon going overboard became my saving grace, the slow on the short shift to the highway got some reserve oxygen aboard.  The bunch splitting for traffic into Wanganui was a bonus too, though serious wattage was brewing behind while the speed was turned up nearing the transfer station.  Greg and I were doing great at 36's till GiantAndy activated the afterburners at DECA with Wozz, Rocket, Emil, Nev and Bo co-conspirators in his slipstream.  Two orderly rows quickly scrambled to single file in a desperate search for a draft.  Mid 40's to Mt. Wanganui had emptied my tank and the effort needed to climb the 2% for 100 metres opened gaps in the rank and file.  Several at risk of going o.t.a. (including me) found a lifeline in PistolPete holding high 30's in Rudd Rd, so six (The Godfather, Crossy, TatMat, Weapon and DeterminedDan) were saved from the shame of being demoted to o.t.a.      Turns at the rushin' front were swapped about in an effort to keep the division one's in sight, the red traffic light at the town hall a sight for sore legs.  Government bureaucracy, the want for workers and the o.c.d. of rounding up a Strava distance carried the conversation over breakfast. 

4/7  The frozen few.

The search for more starters coming along Sanctuary Drive was in vain ; just seven occupied Monday's starting grid to commence the weeks ritual.  Clever thinking by PistolPete led an Indian filed attack on Archer Rd, there'd be some taxing turns if two rows had taken it on.  Pete had no problem driving into the 15-17 km/h headwind to Mitchell Rd, certainly a heart-starter for me (and that's the trouble of taking a slumber Sunday - it stings Monday!) Bruce plied our path to Central Kialla and Emil showed remarkable restraint (with the wind up the Khyber) in keeping high thirties capped to River Rd.  But that's easy for Emil, so he added the two k's to the bridge as an extension.  The Ninja survived at second wheel to deliver the goods to the dip.  

Wind direction is not The Godfather's forte particularly when he's in the drivers seat, Bo beckoning him to River Rd's centre so a decent draft was possible, but I was suffering second wheel syndrome with his variable velocity all the way to rooster corner.  Luck gave me a tail wind on Coach Rd where my turn came due and just as well 'cause the tank felt dry at the start.  Doing your fair share became the driving force to reach the Broken bridges despite an engine that wouldn't perform at the prior pace, kudos received from the crew as I gave Kel the reigns eased some of the disappointment. Keeping connected as caboose was taxing as Kel shot north but I knew heart failure had been avoided when Boundary Rd came back into focus.  Lungs lapped up the oxygen while Bo did his specialty of a tail-wind turn.  With PistolPete, Bruce and Emil lined up to serve their second shift I could (tentatively) sigh a breath to be towed back to town.   Strangely, the Butter Factory was in darkness, so Stellar's substituted the post-ride elixir. 

5/7 Five, fortuitously. 

Finding that second wind took a while, not until the smooth stretch of tarmac beyond Boundary Rd's bridge did the stars align to get on top of the 53/15, hold the heart rate below the bursting point and let the lungs settle into a rhythm instead of a gasp.  A waft of wind from the south helped.  Yep, I just can't escape doing duty on that Midland to Old Dookie leg!   Wendy had bolstered the Squirrel count to five and Emil had handed me the reigns crossing the highway, so the shift I can't seem avoid went well when all the positives dropped into place.  

I'd taken the cue from prior turns that 33's were kosher so that 3200 metre turn that's got my name on it wasn't such a big ask (three k's faster and it turns to hell!)    The challenge was enduring the temperature drop in some sections of road where the channels chill.  Wendy got a bonus draft from a passing truck en-route to New Dookie and Kim made haste anyway to Lemnos-Cosgrove.  Non-plussed with the wind at the port side, the 5ft Ninja put in a big effort to tow us to Lemnos.  Expecting another of Emil's epic efforts as we closed in on suburbia, the surprise came at Grahamvale Rd when his elbow promoted me to the front.  That short shift to Verney begged an extra effort, so I stayed on for the southern stretch to Balaclava Rd but by Pine Rd Emil's urge to lead the little train into town was too much to resist!

6/7  Eleven brass monkeys.

'Cause others would be! Well, that was my answer to "What the hell are you doing in feels like minus five Foss?!"  This was the polar opposite of mad dogs and Englishmen.....literally!  (I guess it confirmed the addiction)   Deliberately starting three minutes early eased the shock a little; a slow build up to speed accustomed the lungs to the refrigerated intake while the body temperature dropped to compensate.  The southbound commute on Archer Rd was punishing ; not that pace was the issue (barely breaking low thirties as usual), just that lungs refused to fill with the chill.  Or maybe the head was saying that?  Boof, Wozza, Emil, Greg, Rocket, Bo, The Godfather, Kel, Bruce and PistolPete showed their compulsion for cold assembling for the mid-week masochism too, no doubt there's some satisfaction in enduring what others won't.   

Maybe it was the cold that confined PistolPete to the mid thirties down to Mitchell Rd?  (I certainly appreciated his restraint)  A higher demand for watts still plagued me through Central Kialla but joined the advance line anyway.    It wasn't any warmer out of town.  The Godfather and Bo behaved on River Rd so when Kel fronted near the quarter horse stud, I'd be up next.  I figured it'd be even fresher at the front!  (Far f%#&'n fresher Foss!) Barely a minute passed and lungs were at bursting point though good old stubbornness got me to rooster corner, the turn north a bit squirmy out of the apex.  A slow puncture was all I needed with Boof now alongside!  (There'd be a bucket load of resentment bringing the bunch to a halt in this temperature, so press on and cross fingers, hoping it was imagination)  

The labor just to get me to One Tree Dam had me well into the red zone, the sensation of deflation playing on pace?  Boof saved me from detonation by delivering a draft while he paired with Emil (and set a swifter speed) to the highway.  Recovery would have to wait!  And I was still waiting when Rocket and Wozz led two lines west on Old Dookie Rd, that marshmallow feeling back again.  Still stuck well into zone four at Central Ave, there was little joy left,  it wouldn't take much just to drop off the back if it weren't for the thought of a hot coffee waiting just a few k's ahead.  The Godfather hurried up the hurt to SPC but cornering was now ranked a high-risk occupation with the quick commute to the Butter Factory.  (Do not foresake me oh mushy Michelin, I shall tend to thee in the cafe's light!)  The rim was just kissing the tarmac on small irregularities crossing High Street, so the cruise for half a k at least got me under more comfortable conditions for repairs.  Frozen fingers could at least be thawed on a mug of coffee immediately after. 

7/7  Cold comfort. 

The forecast 4 degree start sounded too good to be true.     And it was!  Thursday's reality was zero, the  east northeaster bringing the "feels like" down to minus 3.5.  (Optimism can be a dangerous thing eh?)  Pulling the pin would be letting the team down, so all those layers went on in the hope of avoiding feeling like an ice block (as if!) and rolled quietly to the rendevous.  If it weren't for dedicated squirrels, I doubt I'd have made it out of bed.  Fortunately, Kim and Emil had toughened to the temperature (or lack of it) and toured to Tarcoola and the Ninja arrived at the Archer St shop, so we could blame one another for making us face the freeze.  I was slow to form on the grid (a brief diversion aside to tend to nasal floodgates almost at overflow) and that got me out of the usual formation ; third wheel today when Emil set wheels in motion into Channel Rd.  I'd miss that second shift to Orrvale Rd like I'd miss a tax audit!   (the change would be as good as a holiday)  

For a moment I was guessing the drive to the ChaCha would be on my menu, but Emil did the extension thing to Orrvale Rd so Kim got the Kinder shift.  (No bother, I'd be happy with anything different)  So I had Central Ave to the cypress trees for a change of scenery and with 33's and 34's the vox populi, an extension to the S bend would be a decent donation.  (that decision went into the regret file as that chilled east northeaster froze the lungs).  Breathing got better in the draft of four while the Ninja did her drive to Channel Rd's end and up to the highway.  Hey, at last I'd miss that Midland to Old Dookie shift that had haunted me for a week!   Emil set his sights north with Kim in his slipstream and his target wasn't Old but New Dookie Rd.  So Kim did the labor to Lemnos-Cosgrove where I got the west way toward town, and blessed with the breeze at the backside made it an easy aim to Lemnos.  Driving was done and dusted for the day 'cause the Ninja did the Ford Rd work to Grahamvale and of course Emil would take us into town.  (I reckon I should steal that third place on the grid next time!) 

8/7  Every circus has one! 

There was relief reaching Friday ; back into the 6 days a week ritual and the old engine was feeling the wear and tear of that 300 km a week habit.  The coldest week of the year (so far) didn't help either.  Turning up a few extra watts to catch Boof, Wozza and Rocket at the Archer St lights had the benefit of getting a tow to the starting grid, an icy westerly certainly worth hiding from.  The tough had fronted Sanctuary Drive (PistolPete, Emil, Greg, Bruce, the 5ft Ninja, Kreeky, Kel, The Godfather and Bo) for another frozen lap (feels like minus .1)   Just back from two weeks holiday, Kreeky was understandably last in line when Pistol set the squad south and when I plucked up the courage to join the advance line in Mitchell, I got a good position (Bruce ahead and Kreeky behind) to hopefully get a turn done before the head wind in Old Dookie Rd.     

High 30's was understandable along River Rd, the wattage of Emil and Greg at the front combined with a tail wind (15-24 km/h) behind was to blame, but a large broken branch across the tarmac at the quarter horse stud wasn't seen in the dark till we were almost on it. That scattered the squad, but all remained upright.  A moment's cruise let nerves settle a little, though Kreeky took the chance to shift places and shy from duty at the business end.   Speed was restored and alongside Greg for the last k of River Rd should have been an advantage with the wind behind, but I was at full gas to reach rooster corner, a little comfort coming when Bruce called "your speed" when he drew alongside for part two in Coach Rd.  

Cooked reaching One Tree Dam, I called Bruce across for the draft, though The Godfather wanted to play the clown driving three lengths ahead.  How lucky was I that Bruce held the prior pace.  Bo wasn't playing The Godfather's game either, choosing to let him perform in his own circus several lengths ahead, so I had some chance of getting a breath or two back while Bruce and Bo set sensible on the speedo.  Still attempting to bait Bo in Boundary Rd, The Godfather continued his high jinks......but nobody was interested.  Kel, Wozza, Rocket, Boof and PistolPete faced the hurt of Old Dookie Rd, even Bo bailed out of taking a turn, though I did join the advance line again when the Ninja and Kreeky called me across (on the stupid presumption I wouldn't get duty at the front again).  But another turn looked definite sitting third wheel as we'd reached Central Ave, grateful that PistolPete let me into the left line to spare the suffering. What watts were left were on hold for the squirt to SPC, though the headwind had taken the edge off the tempo, leaving something in the tank for those surges of speed needed to stay in touch through the lefts and rights of the streets to the Butter Factory.  For the first time in ages I looked forward to a weekend off.

This week 307km     YTD  6,958km                   

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!