Eddie Dawkins describes his main discipline, the team sprint, as "fight or flight".
Unequivocal training calls are bellowed in crisp staccato. At one stage a dog-trialling whistle even sears the cloistered air to garner attention.
A strict training regime means discipline is key in this steep-banked parade ground. Emblazoned on the entry wall are Track Rules and a Code of Conduct, including instructions such as 'no spitting or blowing nose on track' and 'wipe your tyres BEFORE riding'.
Soon the motorbike - a Yamaha that looks like it came off the showroom floor - sets the pace. A learned chum suggests it's time to play "chase-the-postie". Off it zooms and the riders dutifully pursue as a piston-pumping carbon fibre train. Eventually riders call off the chase, peeling off up the banking.
This is the epicentre of Cycling New Zealand's track programme. A corps of tuned pedallers will venture from here to Rio next year, endeavouring to add to the country's six Olympic velodrome medals. New Zealand earned its first in 1992 - Gary Anderson's bronze in the individual pursuit.
At Athens in 2004 that was supplemented by Sarah Ulmer's world record gold, also in the now Games defunct IP. The remaining four medals have come at the last two Games as part of the legacy high performance director Mark Elliott is building.
Diligence, inspiration and a taxpayer investment of $17.4 million this Olympic cycle suggests more are on their way.
Cambridge as a township has fashioned itself as New Zealand's Olympic hub. Prospective Olympians rub shoulders in the streets, and on the velodrome periphery which doubles as an athlete service centre with cafe, gym, conference centre and bike shop.
Olympic rowing champion Rob Waddell, the campaign frontman for getting the velodrome to Cambridge, pops by regularly, Olympic triathlon champion Hamish Carter is lunching in the café and Ulmer emerges from a conference room surrounded by cameras. Whisper is she's filming something Rio related.
Ulmer's legend envelops this place as New Zealand's sole track gold medallist. Dawkins' respect is clear, saying simply "we want to join her". Her partner and former coach Brendon Cameron has been recruited as a coach in the women's programme to try to elicit a repeat of the X-factor.
Watching the athletes' body language reminds you this is a business. The environment consists more of intensity than bonhomie, which is to be expected with $17.4 million of government investment allocated to hunting rare elements on the Periodic Table.
"We reflect every day that taxpayer money holds us accountable to perform," Elliott says of a programme coveted internationally. "The key thing is we've got a lot of riders who want to be the best in the world. It's more about excitement than pressure."
Head track coach Dayle Cheatley refers to "friendly competitiveness".
Cycling New Zealand's got the resources, yet the overriding impression is they've never been hungrier rounding the bend into Olympic year.
The last word is perhaps best reserved for 19-year-old Regan Gough, one of the programme's latest recruits and a world champion after an emergency call-up to the team pursuit in Paris.
"I can actually see it [the velodrome] from my house. We're lucky to have that facility with the track, gym, physio and medical staff all close. It might have revolutionised sport in New Zealand. Hopefully we can help it pay dividends."
