Metamorphis

Junior, I owe you an apology.

Last night, on short notice, I went out for a ride with Junior into the Waitakeres. I was fearful, as I have been intermittent in my riding of the past month, had a cold of sorts post Christmas, did the usual seasonal ingestion of excess and then was out of two for a few days. Add in sore legs from a tramp that resembled a forced march with sensational views and damned fine company, and I was expecting a session of handlebar chewing. But it wasn't to be.

Instead, early in the ride, as part of my debrief to Junior on recent events, I felt a surge of anger, and that meant that I had legs, and then some. I know now, I was a regular pain in the posterior to ride with last night, and I am sorry.

Our route was a bit of a buffet of hills, not of my choice. For a change I was the follower, and did as I was told. Hillsborough Road, Godley Road, Konini Road, Carter Road, et al. The conditions were magnificent, and with the holiday still in swing, no traffic. I was still pummeled on the world champs sprint, but then somethings never change. Overall it was a great ride, and an excellent way to open the ledger for 2012.

My evil plotting brain is now fully engaged upon the task of plotting the race route for the next Race of Six Friends. I do have something quite fiendish in mind. Rest assured, I haven't found another Klondyke Road, but I do have some new tricks to make people question the sanity of the race organisation, and give them a sense of satisfaction when they finish the big day, March 4th 2012. Over the next few weeks, I shall be checking the route, and hopefully this current weather pattern continues, meaning all metal roads will be usable.

Paroxysm

Friday, a ride of redemption for me. Junior and I rolled around out south, taking in the delights of the countryside from Bombay, Tuakau, Kohanga, Onewhero, Wairamama, Pukekawa, Mercer, Mangatawhiri and Hunua. 

It was truly wonderful riding, good company, excellent spring weather and good legs all round. There were a couple of new roads thrown in, which proved to be delights, and a long stretch of us being men alone on the roads. Even the climb back from Wairamarama to Onewhero passed pleasantly and easily, the opposite of the wet day a fortnight prior in the Race of Six Friends, and also, even easier than the gorgeous day I rode it in course exploration for the race, but that day hit it with 110 kms in the legs. 

Here is proof of the beauty of the day, a smiling Junior, out towards Wairamarama.

There, and Snake Hill, provided some much needed redemption from my seeming never ending form slump. It was also a superb change not to be riding in precipitation for several hours, I feel I have had enough of character building weather. 

Lastly, here is proof that a taller chap can ride my spawn's BMX and remain unscathed. Tristan from Wheelworks, on the green item of terror, that bucked me off last year and broke my clavicle in two. As part of his recent parole north from the trenches of the Capital, he and my spawn took turns at riding the North Harbour race track. I wisely refrained.

Butterfly on a wheel

On Sunday I made people swear at me, and think unholy thoughts of me.
It was the second Race of Six Friends, and the evil triumvirate of my brain, spring weather and the local council came together to cause adventure, misery and satisfaction.
You can read of my course creation thoughts on the R6F blog, this post is more around my day out in the boonies with five other tolerant souls and a crack support person.

Tristan Thomas had flown up from Wellington to be team Ox and super tow for the day. The rest of the team was a mix of old and new, Mikeal had blagged a spot that was vacated by Paul Pendry, and Damien Kearney stepped into the unknown at the last minute as sub for Junior who was unavailable. Rounding the team out were The Worm and The Croc.

The weather looked okay on the radar, with a rain band that would go through, then happy times. That wasn't quite the story as we did get some decent precipitation for a while, then drizzle and rain in the later part. I had forgotten that up here in Auckland we tend to be a bit soft about the weather, and I did scoff when all the softies got excited about the big snowfall of 2011, but I realised that I have grown soft in reading Tristan's post of the weekend, where he described the weather as drizzle. It was a fitting description.

We started with Tristan and The Worm setting a fine pace and example on the flats towards Port Waikato, that Mikeal and I then failed to match. In Mikeal's defense he may have still be suffering from the pre-start nipple gripple I gave him. He did get his revenge later.

Things went in a peachy fashion for the flat, and the climb and descent of Klondyke Road, until The Worm suffered an explosive pinch flat, for the rest of us a small wait and watch, then off again, all was good, then suddenly "What the hell is this?" as the road that was fast and smooth two week prior was now a mudbath with loose metal either side of the ruts from bike tyres. Turns out that the local council had opted to grade and remetal the last couple of kilometres at the end of Klondyke Road. Cue many, many punctures. Tristan was afflicted by two in quick succession, and Mikeal exacted his revenge on me while Tristan effected his repair.

Mikeal's revenge consisted of a quick flick to the end of a delicate part of my person. The sound was meaty and the pain was quite sharp. Much amusement to the assorted crowd and the Jackass road show carried on.

The rest of the ride was a set of movements by various team members to come up along side Tristan for a bit of finding one's place in the scheme of things, while he rode tempo and strong.

When we hit the final flat section, Tristan told us all to hop on, and on the train we scrambled, or in my case dangled. The last little rise, loomed and turned me into a whimpering shell. Finish couldn't come fast enough.

Then the pleasure of dry clothes and shelter. Nothing like clambering out of wet gritty clothes, into dry clothes on a small country town's side street, it bought back a raft of deeply repressed memories.

As a team we did very well, and thanks to my team mates for putting up with me, thanks to Doris for being in the right place at the right time with all the good stuff. Well done team, we (or at least I) will be back for the next one.

Marlow wonders

Now civilised, refreshed, sleep enriched and enthusiastic I have been taking stock of Sunday's ride. I have endured my far share of mockery, even from the Highlands of Scotland, with regard to my wander up the steeper section of Kiwitahi Road.

The last time I placed a foot on the ground there was the very first time I rode the climb. It was last century, and with Warren King, I was on my steel Merckx, and he on his Bianchi. I had a 39 x 21 bottom gear, and the difference to Sunday was that climb was metal from the very bottom. It was the middle of summer, and a small brain implosion made us ride up there. I can claim that it was my foolish idea, but Warren did nothing to dissuade me from the concept.

We slogged our way up, what was a steep, corrugated and dusty climb, and just when I hit that final wall I stood, and all traction evaporated. Warren sailed on, he had a 23T, whereas I had ballast and a 21T. A brief moment and I was remounted and managed to complete the ride up the wall.

The memory of that deeply repressed moment came flooding back on Sunday, at least that first time there were no spectators to witness my humiliation, and no cameras to record it for posterity. Oh well.

Now, I am planning a fiendish course for V2, and hopefully this time, I can maintain my composure.

On the up, I turned legs over on the Iron Maiden last night, found not as bad as anticipated, that was a very pleasant surprise.

The child in me finds this video just dandy!

The Waewae Express

Sunday, The Race of Six Friends, and my dignity evaporated on the race route. A route which was of my own devising.

There are now many photos on the web documenting my humiliation, and a couple of my rather tart response to a photographer or two. So I won't dwell any more upon that, instead I should like to congratulate my team.

They, racing under the name Defy Evolution, and in Wheelworks colours, and against some fancied opposition, managed second fastest time on the day and nursed me around while I whimpered and saw stars. To add to the team's staunchness, Paul Pendrey, who had been sick all week preceding, turned in a gutsy effort and showed real metal, hanging on without complaint and suffering a four hour death ride.

So, a race report. We started well, and saw the four oxen of the team rolling steadily. Within the first forty kilometres we made good inroads on the rest of the field, and managed to survive the rough and tumble of Haruru Road that marked the demise of one of the truly strong teams. We did let Tristan Thomas off the leash several kilometres before the shop stop at Kaukapakapa to speed up the process when we had the enforced stop.

After that the four oxen continued rolling at the front, while Paul hung on, and I whimpered to the rear. A helping hand from Tristan Thomas, who endured me whimpering, ensured we stayed intact over the climbs. That was until the steep section of Kiwitahi Road, where I reckoned on walking being the better option for retaining any use of my legs for the run into the finish. Dignity was already gone, so what the hell.

After that, and in the last twenty five kilometres, there was some real digging into the bottom of the box by various team members, and we finished with a very creditable result.

From the smiles and war stories of all the teams that rolled in, it was obvious they enjoyed the race and the course, I am delighted in that. I loved the opportunity to share some roads that I really enjoy, and lay a challenge a large number of riders.
Already planning on version 2 is underway, and I have a course to rival the last one,
with different roads, challenges and terrain.

Thanks Jason, Mike, Paul, Stu and Tristan, I am in awe of you all and truly proud to say that I was part of Team Defy Evolution.

Now to go and find my missing legs.

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.

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.