Triathletes, one third cylcists . . .

Triathletes may be one third cyclists but they are two thirds machine. In Melbourne, anyone who rides a time trial bike, or a bike with aero bars along beach road is more then likely a triathlete. The majority of these riders are the gear freaks that you can leave for dead in the smallest of inclines, or by drafting behind other riders. They are not renowned for tactics, just good bikes and a constant pace. Every so often one comes along with a constant pace that is more akin to a motor bike or a steam train.

I had just 2 such occasions in the last few days. On Saturday I needed to get back to Port Melbourne from Black rock to get the car in a hurry. I was alone and time was of the essence. There was also a strong head wind. I started off and looked out for any riders or groups to give me some respite in their slip stream. Up ahead was a lonely rider on huddled over his tri bars. He was all in kit. Matching arm warmers, top, knick's, booties, all in black on a black carbon time trial bike. I was closing in on him rather quickly so I decided that I will just power past him and get on with finding someone my own speed.

I came in along side him moving a couple kilometers faster them him. As I rode on, I saw that I was not passing him. I pushed harder on the pedals, still no go. I got out of the saddle and tried to accelerate but still he hung on alongside of me like a dark shadow. By now I was outside my comfort zone so I dropped my speed. I let him take the lead and snuck in behind him. A short recovery for me and again I noticed his speed a bit slow for my rush, so I went out along side of him. Again he clung to me as a shadow and I could not get my wheel past his. As before I hit my limit and swung in behind him.

Now I started to think, what is the game? is he having me on? why doesn't he just put the gas on and leave me for dead? I looked at his relaxed body just turning the pedals, not an ounce of weight out of place. I could almost smell the EPO oozing out of his pores, actually it was probably some strong soap smell. I was happy to sit in his slip stream but his pace always dropped a bit when I was behind him. I got my breath back and saw a nice straight stretch of road on a slight downhill. This will be my next attack, I dropped back a bit, already in the right gear not to give it away with a messy gear change. I went out and started to sprint. The surprise and acceleration I put in ripped me free of the shadow effect I was getting previously. I now moved across in front of him and I had a gap. I quickly looked back and the gap was still there. His posture was unchanged, he was still on the aero bars just ticking his legs over. I put my head down and kept working. I was starting to tire, I hope I have enough of a break. I look to my side and there he is, next to me smiling with a thumbs up. I sit up and slide in behind him again.

Now I knew this was a game. Enjoyable in a way because I can attack all I want and then still get in behind him for some respite from the wind. I know the road pretty well having ridden it twice weekly for the last year. I started to plan where my next attacks were going to be, and spots for recovery. The next uphill, again I wound up my speed and rode past my nemesis. I rode as hard as I could and was happy to feel completely spent at the top of the hill for I knew I would have my trustworthy companion there to sit in behind for another recovery. 3 more attacks before I could do no more but yell out a "thanks for the draft" as I peeled off for my car.

Today was North road ride, the ride that I have failed to finish for the last 3 rides straight. I was the only one from our group to turn up to the start and the 3 degree centigrade temperatures seemed to keep the pack small at around 35 riders. I was determined not to get dropped but again I was finding it hard to keep up with the group from the beginning. In the first 10 minutes a set of lights split the bunch and I was now in the chasing group of around 15. And chasing we wanted to do as soon as this long red light turns to green. The main group was almost out of sight down Nepean highway by the time we got moving. Our pace was good but not fast enough to catch the main group. I sat in the slip stream not wanting to waste any energy. We caught some more badly timed lights and the lead group was all but out of site.

After Warrigal road a bloke with a backpack and time trial bars took the lead. We all kept our pace line behind him and were impressed with the speed. No one even thought of helping the bloke out. We took the turn around for the home run and still the bloke with the time trial bars was out in front. Around Mentone pub I took a stint out the front but only lasted 30 seconds before others took the lead. Again within a minute it was the same bloke on the time trial bars, a small backpack and pushing a large steady gear that took the front. By this time the rest of us gave up and just tried to hold on. We started to catch riders that had presumably dropped off the front pack and most of them could not jump onto our group. With ten minutes to go we started to loose riders who could just not hold onto the pace of our triathlete out the front. Five minutes from the end I think we got a glimmer of the flashing lights from the front group. I sat up and could not hold it any longer. My fourth north road ride in a row that I got dropped.