Team Defy Evolution

Sunday, The Race of Six Friends. The inaugural event, I have written enough of it here, but I have failed to introduce my team. Here, then, is the official list of Team Defy Evolution.

In alphabetical order:-
Jason Green - The Worm
Mike Troup - The Croc
Paul Pendrey
Stu Williams
Tristan Thomas - Up from Wellington and on loan from Wheelworks Racing

and me...

Enough said.

How will we go?

Coitus teneo.

Year almost zero

I can't write that I have any ominous or important news. No facts to share of great import. No trivia that has a become a burden. I could almost say that I have become a shell, echoing the movements in the air.

Sometimes this is useful, and can give rise to contemplation. Recently I have been given over to the conversion to cycling that has been a recent passion for many in the wider population. That regathering of speed that was last experienced as a teen on a ten-speed with platform pedals.

How great is the step now, to return to a bicycle, don lycra, master changing gears via brake levers, not simple levers with visual and tactile feedback, to place cleated shoes in clipless pedals, and, more importantly, get said cleated shoes out of clipless pedals when the nedd to stop forward motion arises.

They are fearful encounters, almost arcane, brutal and unforgiving in their hostility and mocking with the price of failure. Once mastered, they transform the riding experience to something on a higher level, but initially they are daunting, to say the least.

These things, I take for granted, I don't have to concentrate upon them, for them to happen, but for someone new to the sport, to master them quickly and adeptly, I do take my hat of to them. All these new converts, I was once one of them, and the reality is, that if I can master the skills to ride a bike, shift when required, to master clipless pedals, then anyone can. It is a wonderful thing.

Least I become too deep, let us veer off. Here, I have been blessed with an excellent choice, my birthday present, from a man who knows far too much of me.

Phreudian Theory

Oops Velonews, I'm not sure that this racing will ever garner mainstream news attention.

Comes with an asterick

Not long now, on Sunday in fact, I shall be reduced to a dribbling, salt encrusted, feeble elderly gent. Not a pretty picture at all is it? And while, to a degree, I am the author of my own misery, it will be the oxen in my team that will crack me.

Other than my impending doom, I have had much to enjoy. My health has returned, I am no longer a wraith (alright, a corpulent one at that), I have been out and ridden happily and hard, I still have no climbing legs to speak of, but I do have grunt on the flat. I enjoyed a spectacular day out on the water on Sunday, in the midst of a bird tornado, with dolphins as companions.

All fitting stuff to hold as I rattle and slobber my way around the course of misery that is the Race of Six Friends. For the inaugural event of it's kind in Auckland it's got off to a ripping start, with great interest, a field that is twice the size of what was originally considered, and a fair bit of banter and ribbing going on. I am now hopeful that expectations are met, and that round two can be staged.

It will be interesting to see what gear turns up, and is ridden, on the day. I imagine there will be everything from the blindly optimistic to the belt, braces and kitchen sink. There may even be doubled wrapped bars. I was tempted to haul out my Continental Competition Pro Tection 25mm Tubulars for the day, until I went to lift the wheelset and remembered that they may be tough and a gorgeous ride, but they weigh on the wrong side of hippodom to be much fun on a course that does have a few little bergs in it. One day they will get another outing in anger.

Let's start thinking Lord Tennyson, although we are 480 short of his number.

The beautiful and the damned

Sometimes even the best laid plans come unstuck. I am much excited about the flogging that I will endure at the end of the month in the Race of Six Friends. I have assembled a crack squad of obedient minions for my team, they are trusting with no knowledge of the course, and as all of them bar are Facebook abstainers they have seen nothing of the course clues and teasers that many other competitors have, and as a group we all are pretty compatible personality wise. Although I do expect some cuss words at the odd moment of the event.
For the race I have created a course that will challenge, excite and bewilder, I am hoping that at various moments I will be reviled and hated, and also share in some great war stories and laughter after.

So where are my plans coming unstuck? I have been laid low with a nasty affliction, it has kept me off my bike for a decent length of time, and I am slowly recovering. I will be well enough to ride the race, but I will be more of an anchor than usual. In saying that I do hope that I can contribute mentally in a positive manner to the team, and not provoke them too much when they start to turn on me.

All will be revealed on Sunday 31st, I can't wait.

Venus de feline

Some of you will already know of the Solo Race of Six Friends, organised by Auckland Central Cycling Club, being held on July 31 2011. This is the inaugural running of the event and has already attracted some stellar entries and excellent sponsors.

The event is a race over approximately 130 kilometres of mixed terrain and surfaces. It is an unmarshalled race, over a set course, contested by teams of six. To finish a team must have all six riders finish and the team's time is taken from their last rider home.

The course is top secret and has been set by yours truly, and while I do have some roads in my quiver of out of the way places that are best left for single man versus inner demon type rides, the roads in the race will still take riders to many unfamiliar places, will challenge many riders, may make a few people hate me for a little while, along with a few epiphanies of "I always wondered where that road went".

With the course being secret, and in keeping with the nature of the race, teams will only find out shortly before they start exactly where they are heading.

Teams will start at three minute intervals, and there is an arcane and carefully measured handicapping system at work, to ensure competitive racing. The course itself will prove a great leveler and should make for a few good war stories.

With a capped field size there is still room for a further four teams. If you are interested email me and I will email an entry to you, or visit Auckland Central Cycling and enter online.

Additionally there is a Facebook group for the event with some imagery of possible roads, bravado and nerves.

Ticks and tocks

This weather, this dreadful run of average weather is eating at me. Yes we had three glorious days of cloudless skies and little wind, but now we are back to greyness and damp.

Sunday's ride was an epic, a group of five of us rolled south, went through Tuakau, over Pukekawa, down to Mercer, across to Mangatawhiri and then back up through Happy Valley and Hunua to descend the gorge and roll home.

When we started I mocked the others for being over dressed, but I was the one who got it wrong. After three hours I was frigid and feeling like a shell of a man. The stop at Mercer enabled me to make use of a newspaper and stuff some down front chest and also a layer on the top of either thigh, under my shorts and leg warmers.

Unfortunately with my sweat dampening the newsprint, there has been a transference of ink to me. I now have "Auckland Art" in large font and mirror writing on my left thigh.

It was a great group, very compatible, and we rolled well. Apart from on the longer climbs, and there, I was the anchor, going backwards at a steady rate of knots. Some of that was the cold and some was just lack of hill miles. But overall it was a satisfying ride for us all.

The Croc was absent, he made a bike car interface on Saturday on Chapel Road. A woman pulled out in front of him, and he was left with no choice but to embrace her car side on. His injuries, luckily, have been relatively minor, six stitches to the chin and a crushed and split finger, but he now thinks he hit is melon a bit harder that he originally thought and has trouble remembering the event. He does assure me that the stitches will not mar his visage.

The driver, well little to say, initially stating that she had never done anything like that before (what a relief to be taken in that statement!), now has effectively shut The Croc out and won't provide details of car rego or insurance. Thankfully the police will resolve that I imagine. I could rant about this attitude of the drivers for a while, but that will just be preaching to the converted.

Speedy recovery Croc!