A bright clear morning, and YHC was out and in amongst it .. straight into the Subi over to Gordon before anyone could snaffle my parking spot which is now around the corner from the launch. Chinz curtains ruffled as i set up the bike and gave the locals a glimpse of the second best way to start the day.

14C and dazzling sunshine make for a heady mix, and this was soon enhanced by the sight of 25 plus gathering on the OTP for a chatty roll into town. Let’s just say all the cracks had gathered for the fray, and no old regrets as it seems that wicked enthusiasm has triumphed. Our little band was only one of three, Flash was spotted, making his way towards a hobbits run, and of course the Fluffers were unleashed from Snives at 5:15..

The process of moving ERs along the OTP has now become almost as natural as breathing, there are pulses of riders, which form at about 50m intervals and then accumulate into a bunch at junctions and lights.. and from my vantage point today well to the front at the start of the ride and well to the rear at the end, I can attest to the general good behaviour and bon hommie all around.  There was a car that transgressed the rules of common sense by overtaking at the crest of Lindfield avenue, you get that, and cameras will make these fools think harder if they are indentified and evidence is available.. but that is encouraging a them against us ethos which is counter to the ER mentality of doing the right thing, and trying to get on with everyone. I confess to wearing a camera, because it generates a good metre and a half clearance along New Line road..where the locals have yet to be convinced Cyclists are allowed.

The shredder was effective this morning, and the Tindale regroup was an effective coagulant, thus proceeding through the Artarmon park was a longish single file affair with style and aplomb.. to be completed by an assault course of walkers up the scaramanga..again ER colours showing manners to all concerned.

The coffee sprint was launched as usual from the top of Crows Nest, needless to say Schleck was already well into his coffee before YHC arrived, the motor on my bike running on diesel with speed limiter ..in definite need of a tune up..

Shambles,  mayhem , and queues around the corner for coffee as the a multitude of lycra piled in, let’s hope they change into business wear before the Lunchie Yum Cha special this afternoon.

Return busses all ready and waiting for the off.. I will be on an early one.

Have a great day all

BT

( see I avoided all talk of the evil wheat )

Catholic mystic,  Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” If you ascribe to that tenet, then everything you do, say, or experience is an opportunity to reach out and grab hold of that grand idea. That’s why we, dream, that’s why we strive, and that’s why we “just do shit” (Source: DT).

So when I mistakenly showed up cc’d on an email entitled “Rapha Gentlemen’s Race,” I thought “just keep your head down Bullet, pay your dough, and by the time they wake up, it’ll be too late.” Perhaps I was being too hard on myself; I was, after all eminently qualified to live in the company of the Raphaelite:

• I could grow a foxy George Clooney
• I rode an Italian Steel mistress
• I could do sultry, yet mildly disdainful looks to camera
• I’d been on the tele, so knew my good side
• I was just as big a knob as any of them.

It was to be a spritely jaunt (location to TBA) filled with “’triffing, whizzing, and lashes of Ginger Beer – a real top notch gadabout”. I hadn’t been this excited since I saw Melinda Robson’s mum getting changed through a crack in the door (cue Simon and Garfunkel…”Here’s to you Mrs Rob(in)son…..”), but that’s another story for another time.

Back to the task at hand……the Rapha Gentlemen’s Race is an annual ride that is held at undisclosed locations – to keep it mysterious and dripping in cache, you are invited to “apply” to compete – to keep it mysterious and dripping in cache; teams being made up of 6 riders, with one team member having to be female – to keep it mysterious and dripping in cache. I promoted my credentials as the rider most suited to this role ie Bullet (La), but Magoo would have none of it – even though we agreed that her George Clooney could potentially outgrow mine. It turned out that Magoo, as CFO (Chief Fashion Officer), held disproportionate sway, so I was in!

The team presented: 

• Magoo – she of the sleek Merckx (think about it) and faultless fashion sense
• Fore – he of the firm buttock and desirable wheel (just ask Magoo)
• Schleck – he of the inspirational leadership, firm but fair, harsh with a hint of “hello sailor”; I’d tumble over a mound if he shouted “CHARGE!” I can tell you.
• Nicko – skinless, boneless, the poster boy of Heroin Chic and team Greyhound. “I see rabbits” was his menacing mantra.
• WBA – he of the subtle yet accurate perception – “Don’t be offended, Bullet…..but I’m glad you’re on this team…..that means I won’t be last.” He was right, damn him.
• And Bullet (Le) – urbane, calm under pressure, courageous under fire, the rock, the foundation stone.

This’ll be a cinch.

Only thing that I could see as possible obstacle, was the fact that I’d never ridden the distance – 143km and 2800mtrs climbing – a minor details, and that I didn’t actually own any Rapha clobber – a potential deal breaker. The CFO had clearly laid out her vision for the ride – “ER Dress Jersey, Rapha Knick and Natty Rapha Yellow socks.”

Riding in the company of “Rapha Gods/esses” I felt compelled to scale Olympus, liquidate whatever was left of my obliterated asset base, and head off to the House of “R”, 88 Bumcrack Road, Slurrey Hills, to right the obvious wrong. WBA had agreed to accompany me, so off we went.

The House of “R” is a wonderland of cycling chic and all round two-wheeled yumminess. Such a feast of cool stuff had my head spinning, not sure where to start, or where it might end? Enter, Clara, Rapha siren resplendent in on-brand attire and suitably exotic accent. She spoke with silken tone and her words clearly conveyed a subtle yet compelling subtext:

Clara (to Bullet): “Can I help you?”

Translation: “You are a beautiful man, you’d look good in anything and even better in nothing.”

Bullet: “Classic knicks and natty socks, thanks.”

Clara: “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’d be a large.”

Translation: “There is a heat burning in me, a fire that only you can quench”

Bullet: “I’ll take them.”

Clara: “Anything else?”

Translation: “If you take the gilet, myself and 2 of my girlfriends friends will make mad, passionate love to you.”

Bullet: “……….mummy”

Clara: “That’ll be $280, thanks”

Translation: “That’ll be $280, thanks”

Bullet (to WBA): “I think we had a connection”

WBA: “Yeah, to your wallet.”

Thanks to WBA, after a quick complimentary coffee from the proprietor, I escaped Clara seductive clutches with my self-respect and bank balance largely intact. We were attired, caffeinated, tapering and were going to look fabulous. All systems go.

Now go and get yourself a cup of tea before you read the next bit.

Saturday morning broke, as did my wind – a mild nervous disorder, I’m told it has something to do with Gluten…..BT?  Collected by WBA with Schleck riding shotgun and Magoo on board, we peeled northward to the departure point that had been distributed via secret communiqué a couple of days prior. It was to be a Galston kick off, circuit out to Wiseman’s Ferry with a sidetrack thrown in, finishing with a Galston return – 146kms with 2800mtrs of climbing (according to the map – here’s the link http://ridewithgps.com/routes/3635812 ).

A cheeky little spin by anyone’s measure.

The carpark at Montview Oval was awash of whiskers, pastels and Zipps. Notable was the vomit tones of the Attacquer team – I think they were called  “The Porcelain Bus Drivers” or maybe it was just what they were wearing. Needless to say there was plenty of the Branded Merch adorning the morning as rider after rider pursed their lips, scanned the general vicinity, and disapproved.  The George Clooney had been superseded by the Ned Kelly, so I found myself wildly underdressed – but it was too late now.

The might ER’s were prepped and ready, a ripple of excitement laced with a dash of trepidation (I hope Bullet doesn’t blow up in the first 20) and sprinkled on our muesli – the perfect start to what we hoped would be an epic day. The weather was cool and overcast, the rain had held off, and it all felt very Fitzroy.

Nicko muttered “I love seeing people with Zipps suffering,” so I knew it was going to be quite a ride.

Quick caffeine hit, trot to the toot to manage the trots, and then we huddled up for the ride briefing. A skinny coot – Mr Pink Tee Fancy Pants – waived a trendy looking clipboard and told us that “everything’s cool. Keep an eye out for the pink (go figure) arrows on the road. Take it easy and let’s have fun,” and began flagging teams at 1 minute intervals.

“Rattling Dags……..go!”

“Sagging Coin Sacks……go!”

“Prostate-a-gogo……….begin!”

“Whiskers for Jesus…….go!”

“Easy Riders……..hey, you guys look great……and man, love that bike……steel is real, baby……go!”

Heady with the delirium of having achieved Fitzroy cred (tick that one off the bucket list), we dived into Galston with the past life screams of “Tora, tora, tora” ringing in our ears. It was a snappy descent made all the more exhilarating by the coolness of the morning air, and having gone from dead stop to breakneck in no time flat…..then we got to the bottom.

To be continued…

Well another perfect day for a ride into the office, YHC was up in time to see the sun poke above the horizon and  pedalled into a deliciously 14C clear morning sans Bdoubles on the New Line road.. you have to be out before 6 for that privilege. OTPe combatants mostly MIA just the usual suspects lined up at the loftus kick off.. DtB and a slightly jaded correspondent. No records in mind, PBs and cups all having exactly zero influence today, it was all about enjoyment ( ok no cranking up to the threshold of pain or exerting to the point of hypoxia.. I know some in ER would regard this as the opposite.. no enjoyment without cranking to near death )

Beecroft threw up a couple of choice reds, and a glimpse of the Dulwich Hill mob.. but nice little cruise into the ridiculously designed M2 alternative route. DtB was in form and pushed the pace to arrive at Vimera about 5 minutes early, in time to see Dobbo thrashing over the hill attempting KOM while Lobbster was on the Omnibus.. once en route of course no more silly explosions of power and enthusiasm ( until we reached Scaramanga, and the “safety group” of the ER OTP.. about 5 minutes ahead of their normal time.) OTPe therefore was pedalled with grace and aplomb, in a well aspirated pace sufficient for chit chat..jollity and slow enough for YHC to keep up. Then that all changed .. as mentioned the greyhounds of ER baying for their early coffee seats at B&T sparks flying off their rear derailleurs .. the sight was too much for Dobbo .. he tried to hang back but half way up Scaramanga the temptation overcame him and heezgorn off like a botfly was on his tail.

The OTPe crew proceeded in stately manner along the freeway heading ER greyhounds off at the pass.. acquired Blue Stratos along the way ( I think he caught on as we climbed the Naremburn bridge ).. and managed to arrive at Milsons Point just ahead on the roundabout which can only be described as  perfectly timed.  Not that there is any competiveness or racing on the commute.. official reports will say no accidents, incident, or illegal activity..

SHB was glorious, sometimes you have to wonder why anyone would cross it at a sprint..

Arrivals at B&T sufficiently spread out to ensure no queue beyond about 3 deep and various ER menageries settled in for a well earned and much appreciated coffee.. Bullet was an early departure, along with Phantom heading up to Surrey Hills and that shop..I am sure there will be tears at bedtime when the credit card bill arrives..

Anyhow, Sydney is going to turn on a warm and mostly dry return, make the most of it as apparently we are headed into a heatwave followed by another cool change with rain and storm for the weekend..

Cheers BT

It started as a drip, a trickle and eventually become a flood.

4.55 I woke just in time to shoosh my 5am alarm so as not to disturb Lady Dora.

A bite of toast, a cup of team, ablutions, into the E&T and out the door to pedal the crisp, chill dark of pre-dawn Willoughby.

Shotgun quickly located at corner of Penshurst & Victoria. Soon joined by our favourite Freudian, Horatio, for the steady pedal northwards, following the legendary Way of the Dragon.

The Blessed Virgin caught us up and then Daffodil sprouted on the horizon. Thus we were five and soon bound for LCNP, with fingers freezing, keeping a keen and misty eye out for Hobbits.

On cue one appeared, Dopey (by name only) – blasting out of Browns waterhole like a halfling possessed. Only to be followed by another, Stealth.

Foolishly we passed them, swimming against the tide we headed north, down into the hole and then up for a perfectly timed rendezvous with the northern horde who charged towards and then past us. We turned and chased, mad for the hunt – in and out of Browns once more.

Cresting the hill on the other side found Shotgun unloading both barrels into the gutter. Good one son. Better out than in. Fair play for smashing the SS through Browns two times with gusto.

And then we were many, streaming through the back streets. Finchy, Chippo, Bam, B1 & Norman showing how it’s done MTB style. VD leading then peeling off to follow the Parra Path. Admin on the drops and menacing the Kona.

Rhodes – a sneaky slash, Concord – local constabulary out in force with all pursuit vehicles in attendance – not ready to mess with these easy riders, Five Dock, Canada Bay, Rozelle, then Anzac to arrive in a full torrent and wash up on the shore of the Google Cafe.

47kms on the clock and grin on the dial.

Good job team – a cracking ride and a great way to start the weekend.

Great morning for it, conditions..perfect..temps and pressures all in the green, maggies checked and all nesting, power to weight ratio could be a little better but we’ll live with it..ignition and transfer to Gordon in plenty of time to view a few erstwhile ERs pedalling towards start lines of much harder rides than the Mallow OTP that YHC was about to enjoy.

A chilly blast was a bit of a wake up call in the car park..9C on the clock, but with the clear blue sky and large sun, YHC chose to tough it out, and not don the rapha..( nice to know the option is there though ) . It was an eclectic bunch this morning, the weight and might of the financial markets in the form of TFS discussing the next big ferrous challenge with DT..and YHC heard that Saint Nav has found a polly pedal around Canberra for the weekend..250kms, 4000 plus climbing in a lumpy little course through the back country only a mountain goat would enjoy..”we’ll see what sort of shape I’m in for the 3 peaks “ he said..hmm is all I could respond.

Into the misnamed hills of death, and on to the OTP, 20 plus riders in fine form and style, playing nicely with the traffic and bantering on, Friday..beautiful one week, perfect the next.

No accidents, incidents, GOTFR tokens, nothing.. just the second best way to start the day. Of note was a garbage truck blocking the Tindale climb out..interesting to see a rag tag bag of misfits having to form an orderly queue to line astern formation while actually having to pedal up that hill.  The SUP through to Naremburn was filled with grockles ( East Anglian slang word for tourists ) which is also providing opportunities to test the ER resolve to abide in peace. Nice to see though, that  orderly conduct and consideration has become the norm, even a highlight.

Rolling through North Sydney..hmm another opportunity for practicing peace and calm in the face of multiple motorised challenges..but arriving over the bridge and in one piece..priceless… job done.

GG tonight, all the usual suspects will be lined up.. you know who you are..

Have a great day all

BT