Last RR of the year

Okey Smokin Dokey,

Thought it best to end the year in a manner to which I intend to commence the next; full of passion, hyperbole and underarm sniffing.

As the sun begins to set on 2012 and several Mayans wander aimlessly through the back streets of Lindfield ruminating on whether or not they just picked the wrong Frickin’ day, we look back on the final running of the Rhodes Roubaix – and what a cherry popping affair it was…..

Furtive glances and titters of delight greeted our Yuletide Throng atop KPR this morn; one could feel the atmosphere surging, pulsating – nay throbbing, as the appointed hour (well, half hour, actually) approached, for today was to be the day that Sam (Son of Jan) and Dainty Dora were to sacrifice their preciously preserved maidenheads for their inaugural Rhodes Roubaix.

The clock tick over to 6.30 and “Pop” went their combined punnet. A quick smoking ceremony followed by four Our Fathers and off we went.

RTG (RTC), Dopey, Chippo, Bullet (Le), Sam (Son of Jan), Graham, Dora, Dragon, Sri Lunchalot, Virgin (Extra – now that he is sporting a smart new Garmin 500) and Herbicide/Herbivore/Herbal Tea/Herbinator.

Today’s appoint circuit home would be via the Misty Moors of Meadowbank, the Badlands, Inner Westeros and complete sacred songline of the Backdoor – and so it was. Some points to note:

  • Chippo (Kunta Kinte) can confirm that holding an image of a stampeding Wildebeest in your minds eye does make you ride faster, a technique that he hopes to employ on his next ride with Leonardo da Finchi
  • Mr Kinte can also confirm, after his recent ride with LdF, that when one vomits into ones mouth, it tastes just like you’d imagine. Thanks to Kunta for those important insights, and for reminding we mere mortals of what can happen when we dare to play with the Gods
  • Herbicide/Herbivore/Herbal Tea/Herbinator brought to our attention that Mark Seymour (Hunter & Collectors) was playing at the Terrey Hills Tavern. He noted with interest that “How does it go that you can have heaps of hits and end up playing at a sh!thole like that?’ Best advised that Mr Seymour NOT be shown Wolfy Woodstock’s cinematic epic on the ER’s that us underscored with “Holy Grail” composed and performed by said aging rocker – a small matter of copyright infringement
  • No accidents or mechanicals to report; just two Cherry Poppettes (Sam – Son of Jan, and Dora) wondering what all the fuss is was about. First times can be like that……
  • Bullet (Le) reminisced on back catalogues, royalties and the nature of Has Been-ism, and gave thanks that his short but intense time in the rock industry left his sinuses largely intact……
  • In a nostalgic saunter down memory lane, and due to the fact that the Google Coffee Shop was shut, refreshment was sought from our previous haunt – XXll – AKA Cafe Bullet AKA Madame Lash’s. Sans the lick of the lash, we were greet with the squeeze of the eyes and the purse of the lips of Rent Boy Ricardo, the new maitre d’. “No, no, no! You canno’ put ze table togezzer zat way! We will get a farn!” “A farn?” “Yes – a beeg farn from ze carnsil!” “The carnsil…….oh the council. Righto lads. Indoors.” Little atmosphere, no other patrons, average coffee, no split bills, a waiter who can fit four “S’s” into the word “Banana” – Ricardo really turned it on for us.
  • Dragon proposed a minor deviation en route to The Backdoor, inviting us to ride up the steepest hill in Willoughby. Imagination ran riot as we considered the “Col de Pimple”, or the “Lanced Boil” but to our surprise and gratification, it presented something of a challenge. “Who’s idea was this!?!” chirped Ravi the Christ (Only for the holiday season), never one to shy away from a chance to get out of the saddle……Only 100 meters, but at 9% makes it a little pearler…….
  • A pleasant pace throughout dispatching RTG (RTC) at Gordon, Dragon keeping company to Gordon before turning left, when the call was to turn right; much enthusiasm for the NYE Fluffer – 80-90km round trip on Monday morning.
  • Of the 11 on the pedal, 5 were there for the ride with the boys as no work beckoned today for them. Says something, doesn’t it.

God’s speed, Gentlemen.

Bullet (Le)

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