The great Month of Madness has started. Christmas Day was a rolling saunter through Galston and back up Berowra with biscuits and such at Bar Stelvio. Boxing Day (which according to the Federal Government is known this year as Christmas Day Public Holiday, and the following day is known as Boxing Day Public Holiday) was a lot more livelier gallop through Maraylya. Then Boxing Day Public Holiday was supposed to be a recovery ride to PITS, but for three of us, it turned out to be a HEADWIND SMASHFEST. Then Wednesday, which was just a regular day, was the PITT TOWN PAIN TRAIN!
Christmas Day Eve of the Christmas Day Public Holiday
Nothing remarkable happened on this ride. I noted some mundane things, such as the higher than normal amount of traffic on the highway before 7am, for a Sunday. I took the first turn all the way to the top of the descent of Galston with Rolf. Jon Leighton is a horrible descender - sure as the sky is blue. I spun up the climb with some C and B bunch riders keeping me company with their heavy breathing and pained facial expressions.
Then, for some reason, two remarkable things happened. At the roll out I attacked everyone, getting a healthy gap of about 50 seconds by the roundabout. Upon rounding the round about, I rounded the gutter and rounded an obstacle at an undisclosed location to hide myself. I watched Huw scream past in desperate chase. Then the bunch. I rolled out and caught up to Smashshton and asked: "Do you think Huw will catch me?" To which we all chuckled, heartily.
Just before the descent into Berowra, Richard Measures punctured on his custom built, Campagnolo Delta brake equipped Eddy Merckx. After a close to three minute repair, we only made it to JDS's most loved Berrilee Berg when he punctured again. This repair was well over the three minute threshold, and upon resuming our ride, wondered if the rest of the bunch would actually still be waiting at the ferry. My pessimistic side said they'd say: Let's wait for them on the other side of the ferry. Let's just wait for them at the top of the climb. Let's just wait for them back at the cafe.
Sure enough when we exited warp speed at the ferry, there was no one in sight. Not even a car. The ferry crossed the river with just four cyclists on board. So efficient!
We climbed at a tempo because my pupils were a little dilated.
My cynical prediction was only half true, as the bunch was waiting at the top of Berowra. It's a risky move as a cyclist hanging out in Berowra. You can always tell when someone is from Berowra for four reasons:
1. They can pronounce Berowra with only one syllable.
2. They have an aggressive nature.
3. They hate cyclists.
4. Think that being Australian means hating people that are not Australian, but live in Australia.
What is Boganism?
Berowra is unfriendly territory for us, and we had better be prepared. I've gathered some supplies...
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| Please take one of each |
The bunch did well not to get attacked by the local Bogan Militia Force.
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| Berowraites |
Perhaps because it was Christmas Day Eve of the Christmas Day Public Holiday, they were all unwrapping VB slabs, louder V8 exhaust pipes and southern cross tattoo gift vouchers (half price if you've already got one!).
Boxing Day Eve of the Boxing Day Public Holiday
We rode to Maraylya because well, why not. Took the first turn all the way to the Galston descent. The climb was one of the slowest in my memory, I think it was like, 10-15km/hr. I was boxed in so I just stuck it out.
There was a pace explosion on Kenthurst Rd and as I was rolling to the front I was watching the rider in front of me for pacing when suddenly he leaned left and disappeared around a corner. Apparently the guy behind me was doing the same thing as he also went straight on. We put in a big effort to get back into the bunch and it took a while for me to recover.
Over the berg a few of us were off the front. Leighton still mystifies me. He never pulls a turn for the entire bunch, he just sits in. But when there is a climb or he *feels* like it, just attacks or puts in an effort. He made a move with Pete and I bridged on the steep part of the climb. As he gets left behind by Pete, he eases off and I pass him and make the catch.
A semi-break was formed. Meaning that the riders that powered over the berg first, and rolled at the top were 'off the front'. JDS and Leighton joined onto this group but didn't pull any turns.
Boxing Day Public Holiday
Today was a recovery ride. If you don't know what a recovery ride is please die in a house fire. The bunch was massive and there was a howling southerly blowing to boot. These two combined to make the back of the bunch super dangerous. As the bunch was so big, there are, and it's not anyone's fault, speed changes that force the guys at the back to be on the brakes every few seconds. And then out of the saddle to catch up as the front gets away from you. The wind was causing us to be on the brakes more frequently. It was a recipe for disaster!
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| Shit son |
The only solution is to ATTACK! Especially on a recovery ride. Especially.
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| They come at night. Mostly. |
Technically recovery rides are for recovery. But sometimes, it's just how things pan out. Like when you walk over to chat to a girl and she introduces you to her friend and it turns out he's gay and because you're friendly, she thinks you're gay too. So she leaves you alone with him and before you know it, he's making lots of phallic suggestions that you don't pick up on. Meanwhile she's telling everyone that the gay guy has finally met someone and they're all looking at you thinking, it's a shame he's gay. But the whole time you're like, where did that girl go? Finally at the end of the night the gay guy is trying to make out with you and it's a little creepy. It's a lot like that.
So a bunch of us made off at a fair clip, and when I say fair, I mean Liz was worried that she wouldn't be able to hold on and so I made our turn take longer than necessary, muhahaha!
When we got to PITS, three of us decided to head down to Brooklyn. Pretty normal behaviour really. It would turn out that we had no chance of ever catching the bunch and only made 4 minutes back from an 11 minute deficit. We did however pick up the C bunch near the top of Bobbo.
Did I mention that that tailwind turned into a headwind that was all up in our faces? It was.
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| Dammit wind! |
Day 4 - Wednesday
That wind was still hanging around. It was now an easterly though, which would push us along Annangrove road at warp speed.
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| What it looked like at the front of the bunch |
The bunch was split like an atom in Hiroshima circa 1945 when someone accidently hit the Nitro button on their bike. Then it was all hands on deck to get to the fast guys as a few of us were down the back chatting about what we like on sandwiches and which sauces go with which types of food.
After we had sauntered though Pitt Town discussion was focused on who sings: saturday night, do do doo do doo do do do. Turns out it's Cold Chisel.
I attacked the bunch and in particular Leighton. He did nothing, so much so that everyone behind him was free wheeling, then had to start breaking to avoid running up the back of him.
I was reeled in at the base of the berg before Halcrows, where two guys got away with a 20 second gap. It took two of us about half of Halcrows to pull it back as no one was willing to help. The last A bunch pretenders were shaken at the counter attack and the final eight rolled home without incident.
Then I ate a Gingerbread Man that was awesome. No need to mention the holes I added to it to make it, well, more life like.
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| Mine didn't have eyebrows |
I am thoroughly smashed right now. As I write this I am drifting off into a coma that I may not wake from. The only thing that will wake me up is the thought that tomorrow I have another opportunity to hurt people while riding my bike really fast.
Last Youtube clip I swear:
If you don't laugh you're better off just dying now
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