For the past two weeks Melbourne seems to have been stuck in some sort of meteorological wind tunnel. Day after day we have been assaulted with gale force winds, making cycling a pastime only for the seriously stupid or the incredibly brave.
I am pleased to say that the Warby Ghost Riders fall into the latter of the above categories and were keen to have a club ride along Beach Rd, even though the wind was strong enough to send the overhead seagulls backwards in their flights. By the planned starting time of 11.30 we had 7 riders ready for a start. Lex (Lothar) looked particular resplendent in a full kit of brand new club jersey as well as black Avanti arm and leg warmers. In fact this guy is looking so competitive he is starting to worry some of the other club members (eg Bob).
The only guy we were still waiting on was Peter, however a quick mobile call revealed that he was running 20 mins late but that he would "quickly catch up to us" on the ride. With that news the peloton immediately set off to Frankston. Aided by the force of the wind on our backs we quickly increased speed to 35 to 40 kph and sailed along Beach Rd. Bob occupied himself by studying the legs of the many other riders we saw on the road. "That guy's a rider", he would knowingly announce, or "That guy's a patsy - not worth chasing", he would scoff.
I had loaned Richard my older Cannondale road bike for the day and he seemed to be enjoying the freedom and speed of the skinny wheels as he raced along in the group. Although we had previously encouraged riders to maintain a tight group we were soon strung out over about 500 metres. The common excuse for bolting was "I just felt good and didn't realise the rest of you guys weren't right behind me" (otherwise known as "Duncan's excuse").
When we reached Carrum there was still no sign of Peter so we stopped by the side of the river to wait for a while. It was here that I discovered that the broken glass I had ridden over had given me a flat rear tyre. As we stopped to replace the tube we learnt that I wasn't the only one with a flat tyre.
Apparently, still some distance behind us, Peter had also picked up a flat tyre. He had also discovered that he had forgotten to bring a pump! In the ensuing confusion he managed to borrow a pump (good), but somehow managed to pinch and burst his only spare tube (not good). By the time he had stolen a couple of additional tubes from a passing female cyclist we were already nearing Frankston (also not good).
It was on this final stretch of road that disaster struck Little John - his expensive flashing rear tail-light became unhitched from his bike and bounced into the centre of Nepean Hwy. A couple of us stopped to retrieve it for him but it was smashed into molecules by a passing truck before we could affect a rescue. (Not good).
I could also mention the fight that we got into with a belligerent motorist but it would only serve to worry our readers - suffice only to say that weight of numbers can sometimes be a comforting thing in a confrontation.
At Frankston we stopped for lunch at the Subway shop and discussed plans for future training rides. Just as we were readying to leave for the return ride, Peter finally arrived (looking a little the worse for wear). We tried to encourage him by telling him that he wouldn't have time for lunch since we were ready to leave now. He wasn't pleased (good). We headed off, back into the 50 knot wind (not good).
The only effective way to ride into such a wind is to maintain close formation and take regular turns at the front. We managed to achieve this with some success, but it is still an area that needs more practise in future rides. Although the return ride was tough, I don't think it was as bad as we had been expecting. Does this mean that we are finally getting a little stronger ?
At 3.50 pm we were back at North Rd. Little John decided to finish his ride there while the remaining 7 riders continued on to Melbourne. As we rode towards the familiar skyline of Melbourne we could pretend in our minds that we had already completed the Round the Bay and were on the final stretch, waiting for the thunderous applause that would no doubt be waiting for us at the end. Needless to say, there was no applause but it was a relief to complete the final U-Turn and settle back down into the remaining 10 km of downwind riding.
Duncan celebrated by throwing away his sunglasses into the middle of a busy intersection (not smart), but I managed to bravely retrieve them before that were flattened by the rapidly approaching cars (very smart).
Back at the car park at 4.30 pm after 90 km on the road, Peter found that someone had left a message on his windscreen. It turned out that the phantom visitor had been the local parking inspector and the mystery message was a $100 fine for not parking correctly (NOT fair), and you can guess Peter's response - NOT HAPPY !
It had been another typical ride for the Ghost Riders. Now where can we go to next week?