Watt the FTP was that?!

That… was the hour of power.

It started innocently enough. A few blokes at the meeting point. Chris doing stretches and Marco casually flexing some fresh UKE merch (looking sharp, Marco 😉). Business as usual.

Except it absolutely wasn’t.

Blink, and we were straight into 40km/h. No warm-up. No easing in. Just immediate, unspoken violence. Thanks, Steve — the group has decided this was your doing. By minute five I’d already lost several litres of sweat and most of my dignity. I must apologies to anyone riding behind me - with the amount of sweat dripping off me, I genuinely hope you kept your mouth closed.

Apparently it was stunning weather with a gorgeous sunrise. So I’m told. I didn’t see it. Between the sweat in my eyes, the white spots dancing in my vision, and fading in and out of consciousness, I was mostly focused on survival and praying for a red light. Any red light.

Turns were strong. Proper strong. Everyone contributed… except Neil and Callan, who opted for the advanced recovery strategy of not turning up. Not sure about Callan, but Neil apparently had a “puncture”. Sure, Neil. I suspect the pressure of protecting the group from rival gangs after last week’s close call finally got to him.

Anyway — I digress.

Miraculously, the hour of power ended after about 45 minutes. Common sense prevailed and we gently rolled out with the WCG social group. First thing I noticed: while riding two-abreast, absolutely no one wanted to ride next to me. Possibly the smell. Possibly self-preservation. Possibly not wanting to be mentioned in this blog. Mick, meanwhile, has fully accepted that I’ll find a way to bring him up every single time. Good on you, Mick. Personal growth.

We had a few new riders today. Special mention to Kirra, who on her first ride calmly rolled through and took a turn on the front like it was no big deal. She’s from Toronto (pronounced Tronno, obviously) and immediately set a high bar for newcomers.

Steve then punctured close to the café, allowing us to establish a textbook Australian worksite: one foreman, one OH&S rep, and one poor bloke doing all the actual work. Efficient. The OH&S officer was slacking because I managed to blood both knees while enthusiastically demonstrating my new tyre levers. Yes. Both knees. Don’t ask.

Café chat was Garmin watches (I’m still not speaking to mine — still “unproductive”) and marathon running. I possess what’s best described as an office physique, so I contributed very little to that conversation and focused instead on coffee and recovery.

This week’s Best Dressed was a tight race. Strong field. Big vibes.

Runner-up goes to Marco and his fresh UKE kit — crisp, confident, and very much in the new-kit honeymoon phase. Respect.

But taking the biscuits today is Simon, who showed up in a fully coordinated masterpiece: matching yellow bibs, WCG jersey, and cycling cap to seal the deal. No weak links. No clashing tones. Absolute commitment.

Looking great, darl. Proper pro-peloton chic. 💛

This is why we do it. Same roads. Same crew. Always worth the early alarm ⏰.

And if you’re still buzzing from the ride, legs cooked, coffee in hand and stories getting better by the minute — don’t forget to kit up for the recovery phase. Our post-ride funny cycling t-shirts are designed for exactly this moment: zero watts, maximum laughs. Because the ride might be over, but the banter definitely isn’t 🚴☕️😄