Saturday, 27 June 2015


Hell Ride:
I don't know if it was the wind at our backs, the two espressos in my system, or that until a red light split the bunch I made a concious effort to avoid the wind, but the trip south felt pretty easy. The split, and subsequent red lights changed things from easy to "Holy crap who's pulling this bad boy at 56km/h?!", to which the answer was Tommy Nankervis.

Anyway, after a few words of "encouragement", and some monster turns, we caught half the lead bunch by Frankston, leaving a 6-8 boys dangling a few hundred metres up the road. I'm still not quite sure the precise emotion this elicited in me, but the result was motivation to make the catch, and a willingness to sacrifice anyone to achieve it.

First on the chopping bloke was Leigh Atkins, I let him set the pace up Olivers, knowing that if I went at the pace I wanted, I'd blow myself and everyone else apart. Over the false flat, I took up the pacemaking duties, pushing a steady 400W through the pedals. Leigh to his credit came through again soon after, then a few more from the bunch rolled up to contribute. I let a 5-6 guys past before pushing the 7th off the wheel. I don't think I even looked over at who it was, and I'm not sure if I flipped a few fingers off the bars in a half arsed thank you wave, I was doing calculations on turn lengths, distance to go, and the length of the slowly closing gap. I could see Andy Naylor on the front of the lead group and he looked tired, I saw Troy Clarke flick over the road to turn early, I figured we were half a sniff. By this point we were onto the final rise up to and past Canadian Bay road, a big guy from Trades Collective was on the front powering away with  me on his wheel, still doing maths. The time came and I went, catching and releasing shrapnel from the front bunch, I could smell their pain and it fuelled me, there were meters to go, we'd catch them at the intersection and roll them to the top, it was going to be glorious.... but a red light spoiled the party.

The way home was a good solid session into the head wind, 500-600W turns, and no shortage of lights to add a fartlek element to the mix.

I knew the final sprint was going to be a late one, so I eased up to around 15th wheel, and pushed onto Booney's wheel. The first kick went at the corner, doomed from the moment it started, but a great platform for those behind to go. They went, but it was still to early. Booney had read it like I had, he waited until that kick was just about to start fading then went up the right, I left a tiny gap then did the same to him, getting enough of a gap to sit up across the line and slap my leg a few times in celebration. The Hell Ride isn't a race, but it's fun to win it anyway.

Strava link.

D: 100.8km
A: 387m

PMPW: 84kg

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