After last week's pain train thundered down the tracks, the WBL had to do something truely heavyweight to maintain its pre-season structure of weekly exacerbation. With T.O.M's coalescing influence, roughly 20 soldiers of the saddle gathered in the parking lot of Enfield's neighborhood truck stop to pound the pavement of East Hants.
The pack rolled out onto Old Ham Rd. at eleven-0-clock razor-sharp, and cruised at a social pace for the first ten minutes. Both legs and larnyx were warmed up, especially in the case of the author as he strove to recite the best
mash up ever. Unfortunately The Grallerz were late making the bacon or something this morning (even later than myself) and just missed the start.
Rolling down the Guysborough Rd. toward Middle Musquodoboit, the WBL took full advantage of the tail wind provided by Lord Shiva, and began to hammer with reckless abandon. A few succumbed to the mid-morning high cadence Italian tune-up, but we began the day solidly on the right foot with an average speed above 40 by M. Musq; a full clip in the mac.
Looping back toward Chaswood on the 224, the group came face to face with a cheek-billowing headwind. Screams of desperation were heard from the back of the bunch, as echelons were attempted (in futility), and immesurable gaps opened. Robertson fell victim to the unfeeling elastic of a peloton in anguish, and was followed later by a Quadz-in-difficulty. Quadz was heard to remark after the ride that he was holding true to his prescribed heart-rate ceiling of 150, in the interest of maintaining muscle mass. He'll still be our short-range strategic podium bomber come Riverport, aint you worry. We met up with the Grallerz later on this stretch, but were well into cut-throat mode; like a frog jumping into boiling water, it's just not going to happen instantly. You've gotta ease into that shit.
Now wittled down, the pack followed the 224 right onto a newly paved Gay's River Rd. This was the highlight of the ride for many. Reunited with Khrisna's blockrockin' tailwind, and Vishnu's aight sunshine, we eased back on the thrusters and took in the glory of the country. We rolled into Shubenacadie with an average of 36, and stormed the Golden Star, ravaging flat coke throughout the parking lot. Localz glared incredulously.
Once Marty had sucked in some top fuel, he gleefully readied himself for the late arrival of a forlorn Quadz. Much head-scratching ensued, until the perfect condolence was positioned at the ready on the tip of Marty's tongue. Quadz rolled up, undid his helmet strap, and was met with the full force of Martian sympathy: "How those bitch-legs doin'?"
I'm sorry Quadz, but that's rated "F" for "really fuckin' funny". We all know you'll sweep his ass clean off the road in the first field sprint.
At this point Feen and the Grallerz decided to roll the #2 back to the Big Stop, while the hardcores pressed onward toward Cheese Factory Corner. Impressively, no zealot suffered any wheel damage on the Gaza Strip of a highway from Shubenacadie to the 14. Most of the ride was spent in a state of controlled burn, a smooth but smouldering paceline cutting into the wind. However, the rollers just before Cheese Factory had begun to take their toll on group dynamics, and reckless hammering had begun to happily go down. I was suffering especially hard, and could hear GOT dropping mad gears while ferociously coming up the side. This felt like the momment of dispatch for my fat ass but then, as if I willed it into existance, GOT flatted. We calmed down, downed some coke and powerbars and talked shit about JB and TOM's bitter rivalry while GOT dealt with his mechanical from god. I fell off the back a bit on the final wall, but got back on working with a BP duder. Post-Cheesefactory, we kept it on cruise and rolled back to the cars with a final average of 34. Quadz (calused cerebrum and all) natually toughed it out like Jon MacLean and followed our route solo, all the while reliving Martin's chastising. (Seriously Martin, it's Tec under the pillow from now on, ok?)
At the end of the day, I'd say the TT-JB score is currently even. D-Mac and GOT get WBL scene points for riding out from the D this morning, but Marty takes Heavyweighter Of The Day for his grandslam of harshest trash talk AND riding there and back from Cole Harbour, a 200k total. Points also to Fresh Ben, who's riding with new-found speed and finesse this season, and also to Kris Barr, who rocked the whole thing on his cross bike, complete with CROSS TIRES. Damn.
Will Quadz avenge his bruised ego? (Will Marty live to see 25?) Will JB and TT go head-to-head in a sign sprint death match? We'll see what next week brings.
-Chops out.
