My Ode To Friday

Oh Friday you sultry wench, loitering in the shadows at the end of the week, offering little yet giving away so much, revealing a cleavagey Saturday and Sunday so close yet so far.
And what better way to not give her the satisfaction of your lusty desire than to don the man-lycra over shaven, oiled legs and go for an early Friday morning spin with your hommies. By hommies I refer to His Royal Hoyness, Marco Shauntani, Slim Shady and the ‘nator that is the Rylanator whose silence on this fair morn spoke volumes of the previous nights partying that only a 20 something yr old can partake in during the week.


His Royal Hoyness…….The Man…………………The Monsters…………….The Embrocation.

Slim Shady & Marco Shauntani.
A Friday morning ride is a time to shed the fatigue of kilometres done, spin the legs, take in the scenery and mentally prepare yourself for the important decision of what pastry you will have with your coffee post ride.
The ride takes place through the “magic hour” when the light is that warm, yellowy colour that has a reminiscent feel to it but in Perth also hints at the stinking hot summer to come and as I clopped out the door I couldn’t help but think what a perfect morning to it was to take a couple of snaps.
The first 30 odd minutes is a solo affair, as I wound my way around the river to meet the boys.


Are you a Pelican or a Pelican’t?

After meeting said hommies at the toilets of dubious nature near the Narrows the group ride begins. Fortunately travelling away from the city at this hour means you avoid the commuter world champs that takes place every morning and instead you can concentrate on the meet and greets and begin to formulate the insults and jibes that will form the backbone of a ride with friends.

A quick stop at the Raffles for a drink stop and pick up young Rylanator and we were off once again.


 

And this Friday really did put on a good one, flirting with us all day.
While tapping back around the river, through Applecross, Ardross and Bicton and looking at the beautiful gardens and homes I paused to consider I really should have paid more attention at school.
After the summiting the Muur of Freo and crossing over to Port Beach we all started looking back for the truck that may give us the fabled slip stream that, if played right, can take you all the way to Eric St. It has to be just right, not too fast to spit you out, but not too slow as to be tedious, and right on cue, as if this Friday couldn’t be any more perfect, it came.
And we were on it! 30, 40, 45, 50, 55, in the dog, spinning like crazy, you’d be grimacing if you weren’t smiling so much!  One by one we all popped out the back we were left feeling the exhilaration of a pubescent teenage who just found his Dad’s Playboy stash and continued to make our way unassisted towards Swannie and the cycle path.

With the onset of sanctioned bicycle path, cruise control is activated and the time is noted. Coffee or 10 mins late for work? mmmm. Do we have time? Always when it comes to a cuppa joe.
So as the ride draws to a close, and another week winds down I can’t help but feel a little blessed at being in Perth at this time of year with compañeros such as these.
Have a good weekend all and ride safe.

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