07.28.2008 | 2:08 pm
The Leadville 100 is just a couple weeks away, and I’ve got a problem: I don’t know what bike to ride, or how to set my bike up.
This is not the first time I’ve had this problem. I’ve puzzled over whether I ought to ride the full-suspension bike or the hardtail (not a choice this year, since I no longer own a full-suspension bike). I’ve pondered over whether to ride with a Camelbak, or go with bottles. I’ve agonized over the virtues of low rolling resistance versus good traction.
This year, though, is different.
This year, I’m not sure what to ride or how to set up my bike because my right shoulder is still separated, and still hurts like crazy. I can’t lift my arm above shoulder level, and only barely am able to stand and climb for any length of time (like, I can now climb standing for five minutes).
I’m going to explain the things I’m considering, and would appreciate your feedback.
Which Bike?
This is the biggest decision I have to make, and it’s a tough one. Here’s why I haven’t made up my mind yet.
- The WaltWorks: If I hadn’t crashed recently, I’d be riding my fully rigid steel 29″ singlespeed, for certain. Dug, Brad and I had this great plan for riding the entire race together, Brad slumming at Dug’s and my speed. But right now I’m not sure that by the time the race begins (August ninth), I’ll be able to do the race on that bike. Singlespeeding requires upper body strength — constant pulling up on the handlebars — that I just don’t have right now. Will I have that strength back by 8/9? I don’t know. I worry about risking it.
- The Superfly: If I ride a geared bike, I’ll be able to remain seated for more of the race. And this isn’t exactly a slouch of a geared bike. But if I ride this bike, it’ll be just one more year of me riding a geared hardtail, but slower (much, much slower) than usual. What’s the excitement in that? And I won’t match Dug and Brad as we ride along together, wearing our sombreros and merrily singing a tune at the back of the pack.
Setup
So, say I decide to go with the WaltWorks…which is what I really, in my heart-of-hearts, want to do. Should I put a suspension fork on it? It seems like that would help my shoulder, but my shoulder usually gets hurt not from the up-and-down of rolling over rocks, but from sudden, unanticipated lurches where I try to recapture my balance after losing traction. A suspension fork won’t help with that.
Or, suppose I go with the Superfly? Is it OK for me to put a basket on the front?
The Real Question
Really, what I’m trying to figure out is: What is the bike setup that will give me the best chance of finishing this race in spite of my total lack of training, and in spite of my messed up shoulder, while still giving me a good, believable excuse in the event that I wimp out and bail?
Comments (76)
07.25.2008 | 12:41 pm
I’m currently sitting in the waiting room (blogging via iPhone) at the local orthodontist as my boys both get braces.
Lucky them.
This seems as good a moment as any to ask for theories explaining a curious phenomenon I’ve observed.
And no, I don’t know the answer. I have a theory, but it’s just that — a theory.
So here’s the setup.
The road from the Tibble Fork turnoff to the mouth of American Fork Canyon is an ideal working downhill. With its moderate pitch and loose curves, you can really open up and pedal your heart out. It’s fast. It’s fun.
When I ride this section of the road on my geared road bike, I coast at the same speed as everyone else, more or less.
But when I ride my Lemond Fillmore single speed road bike, I coast much, much faster than the group. The Fillmore is an incredibly fast downhiller. Anyone who has ridden with me will agree.
The question I have is, “Why?”
The Fillmore is stock, apart from the bullhorn bars and TT brake levers I’ve fitted to the end of those bars.
So that’s my question. Why would this $700 bike be such a rocket on the descents?
I look forward to your theories. If you have questions or need additional information, ask in the comments and I’ll do my best to answer.
Comments (114)
07.24.2008 | 12:59 pm
Once in a while, you’ll have a day where things are so busy that you have no realistic expectation of getting in a ride. You’ve just got too much to do. Optional (i.e., "fun") stuff is going to have to wait for another day.
And then, almost by magic, a "ride window" appears. An appointment falls through. You finish the errands before you expected to. Your spouse takes pity on you. Whatever. The important thing is, you’ve got maybe 70 minutes. Not enough time for a long ride, but certainly enough time for a good ride.
That’s what happened to me last Tuesday.
I got home from work, assuming that my next task was to start dinner for the family, followed by cleaning up the house.
But dinner was made. The house was clean. Susan doesn’t let a little thing like a paralyzing tumor in her spinal cord slow her down.
So I had just enough time for a short ride before taking the family out to a play (we’re a very cultural-minded family).
The question was, what kind of ride would I want to do when I only had just over an hour?
The answer, for me, was obvious and easy: Climb one side of Suncrest, drop down the other side, and then turn around and come back. Two four-mile, 1500′ climbs.
Obvious?
I say the decision to do a climbing ride was obvious and easy, and I mean it. I just love climbing rides. So far, this week, my rides (all road — shoulder’s still no good) have been:
- Monday: Up AF Canyon to Alpine Loop Summit, down to Cascade Springs, and then back again: about 6500′ of climbing
- Tuesday: Up the South side of Suncrest, down the North side, and then back again: about 3000′ of climbing
- Wednesday: Repeat of Monday
- Thursday: Up AF Canyon to Alpine Loop Summit and back again: about 3500′ of climbing
Nobody’s forcing me to select these rides, and I’m not doing them because I’m training for a race. I like to climb.
But — and I get this question pretty often from friends and neighbors — why do I choose these routes, when I don’t have to?
That question isn’t as easy to answer.
Back to Tuesday
As I was climbing up the North side of Suncrest, I was pondering that question. "Why am I climbing? Why do I seek this out?"
See, climbing seems like a good idea except when you’re actually doing it. This is the grand paradox of climbing.
Then another rider turned onto the road, about 75 yards ahead of me. He looked strong. Good legs, nice bike. A worthy opponent.
"Hewwo Wabbit," I said, in my best Elmer Fudd voice. You know, because Elmer chases Bugs Bunny. And because he’s bald. And short.
Look, let’s just say I identify with Elmer Fudd and leave it at that, OK?
I stepped up my pace, the pain easier to endure now that I had a more exciting objective than merely to survive the climb.
I had prey.
The guy I was trying to catch saw me by the time I was 50 yards behind him, at which point he stood up and picked up his pace.
Ha. He had sacrificed any legitimate claim to not caring whether I caught him. He cared, all right.
In fact, he cared deeply.
Each time he looked back and saw I was closing the gap, he’d stand and put on a burst of speed. A foolish tactic. Bursts like that cost more than they’re worth. Ullrich-like, I remained seated, staying in second gear. Knowing that to him it would look like I’m going slow because my cadence is low.
Knowing that he wouldn’t get a look at my tell-tale quads until it was too late.
Hey, How’s It Going?
Eventually, inevitably, inexorably, I caught him. And by law, that meant we were required to exchange pleasantries.
I went first.
"Harsh climb, isn’t it?" The subtext, of course, being that while the climb was indeed harsh, I was faster than he was up it.
"Yeah," he replied. "And it’s just too hot to climb well." A lame excuse, because we were both cycling in the same climate.
"Have a good ride," I concluded, pulling in front of him. And then, ten seconds later, looking back to see if he had cracked.
He had.
My victory was complete.
My Answer
"This," I thought to myself. "This is why I climb." Because it’s the closest thing I’ve got to a superpower. And by "superpower," I don’t mean some lame freebie superpower like the kind you get because you were born near a red sun or bitten by a spider, for crying out loud — "acquired by lottery" superpowers suck.
No.
I mean the kind of superpower Batman has. And don’t believe for a second Batman doesn’t have superpowers. He has tons of superpowers. It’s just that he’s earned them all.
I climb because I can roll up beside someone on a bike, and unless climbing is also his superpower, I can surprise him.
Eventually, it all comes down to this: I climb because I can.
Comments (85)
07.23.2008 | 12:12 am
A Note from Fatty: Thanks go out to Adam, Dug, Jill, Jim, Kent, Brad, and Bob (and mgrinrr, who had the initiative, good sense, and moral courage to self-tag, thus innoculating against leprosy), each of which has been wise enough to avoid leprosy and get in on the ground floor of what I predict will be the most awesomely successful blog meme in the history of awesome blog memes. Surprisingly, both Dug and Jim made the distinction between giving up ice cream and giving up gelato. Coincidence, or separated at birth? You decide.
A Late-Breaking Note from Fatty: Bike Snob NYC has wisely elected to avoid leprosy. Read his response here.
There are certain memories that stick with you forever. One of mine is my shopping experience for my first serious mountain bike. I had no idea what I was looking for, but the manager of the bike shop — Scott Calhoun — was someone I knew, liked, and trusted.
“What bike should I get?” I asked.
“This one,” he said, indicating the Specialized Stumpjumper M2.
“Well, what bike do you ride?” I asked.
“This one,” he said, indicating the exact same bike.
That sold me.
Since then, I’ve moved from being the guy who needs to ask a trusted expert what bike to buy to being the guy (notice I didn’t say “trusted expert” when referring to myself) other people ask. I know most of the brands and models, and if I don’t know, I can quickly find out.
I’ve become so comfortable with bikes that I’ve forgotten exactly how strange and confusing shopping for a bike must be to someone looking to buy their first (or second, or whatever) serious bike.
For example, take a look at these two bikes:
You, of course, can probably tell that there are masive differences between these two bikes. The one on top is a singlespeed. The one on the bottom is carbon. The one on top is clearly a ride-around-town bike; the one on the bottom is for serious racing.
But try this experiment: show the above two images to someone who doesn’t know anything about bikes. They will probably note that both bikes are from Specialized. They may think the decals on the top bike look a little bit cooler and that the one on the top comes with pedals, while the one on the bottom does not.
They probably will not deduce that the bike on top has an MSRP of $690, while the one on the bottom has an MSRP of $8500.
OK, to be honest, I also am a little bit dumbfounded at the price on the S-Works Tarmac SL2. I mean, no matter how much awesomeness they add to the bike, it’s still just a Specialized. Isn’t owning a Tarmac SL2 is like having the most awesomely tricked out Toyota Corolla in the world?
OK, I’m drifting away from my point in a big way, here. I need to reel myself in.
Back to Novice Land
Today, I was reminded of how confusing it is to be a rank novice shopping for a new bike, because — once again — I am a rank novice, shopping for a different kind of ride.
I’m in the market for a scooter for Susan. No, not like this:
More like this:
You see, Susan hardly ever asks for anything. And she even more hardly ever asks for anything big. So when she, this morning, said she’d really like to have something that would let her ride around the neighborhood so she could walk the girls to school, or go with us to the park, or otherwise just get around without having to be pushed or driven, well, I was immediately all over it.
Until, of course, I got completely overwhelmed by the price range, feature variety, and incredibly variance in brands and models, even as I could not tell any difference at all between a $700 scooter and a $4000 one.
I mean, it’s worse than not knowing which scooter brands I should be looking at. I don’t even know what kind of questions I should be asking. I’m like the guy who comes into a bike shop, interested in buying a bike to get in shape, but to whom it’s never even occurred that there may be different kinds of bikes for trails and pavement, and that maybe I should know which I want to do.
Do I want three wheels, or four? I dunno.
How long should I expect the battery to last? Beats me.
Which brands are the most reliable? No idea.
What’s a reasonable top speed? Or should I even care?
Does it even matter whether there’s a light system and traffic signals? I don’t think Susan’s going to take this thing downtown (I’m pretending here that Alpine, UT has a downtown).
What I need is a trusted advisor — someone who can just tell me the right scooter to get, because they know all about this kind of thing.
Which is, frankly, why I’m writing this post. The nice thing about having a few thousand people check in on you you daily is that there’s a good chance someone out there is a mobility scooter expert. So, scooter expert person, supposing that price isn’t really an object, what scooter should I be getting for Susan? (Please feel free to email me and we can go into details.)
And to the rest of you: Thanks. When you bought jerseys or sent in donations, you made it so I can get Susan as nice of a scooter as I think she deserves, without worrying much about cost.
And besides, no matter how nice the scooter, it won’t cost a third as much as a Tarmac SL2.
Comments (55)
07.22.2008 | 8:37 am
Remember how, when you were a kid, from time to time a friend would send you a chain letter, telling you a story about someone who got this letter, forwarded it, and now has received untold riches? And then — by way of contrast — there was another guy who received this letter, didn’t forward it, and — the following day — got leprosy, a swollen goiter, and a severe case of halitosis?
Well, blogs have something like that, but instead of “chain letters,” they’re called “Tagging.” Generally, the chain letter tag directions instructs you to describe five random facts about you nobody else knows, and then to link to five other (usually topically similar) bloggers, who must do the same thing.
How unimaginative.
First of all, the assigned task — 5 random things about me — asks me to reveal too much all at once. If you want to know five random things about me, just read my blog for five days. Don’t go asking me to give up a week’s worth of material in one post.
Second of all, the assignment is just too darned lazy. It’s like the guy who started the chain just phoned it in. Instead of asking a bunch of pointed questions that would force people to think and respond imaginatively, he took a swig of whiskey, looked at his blank screen, and said, “Well, I need to post something today, but I have no idea what. Wait, I know. I’ll ask other people to write something instead! Now, what should the questions be? Hmmm, that’s a poser. I know! I’ll make them make up their own questions! I’m brilliant!”
And then he fell asleep, drooling into his keyboard, while the keys left a QWERTY impression in his corpulent, veined cheeks.
I may be ranting a bit here.
My point is, the questions could at least be topical — you know, since I blog about biking, the questions could be about bikes.
Third — and finally — the Tag meme should carry a promise of reward and corresponding threat of infamy, financial ruin, and probable dismemberment if you brake the chain.
Here. I’ll show you what I mean.
You’ve Been Tagged!
Congratulations! Your blogging friend at [YOUR BLOG URL HERE] has tagged you! You must now — within the next 24 hours — answer the below questions as a post in your blog, and then tag three other biking bloggers.
Please, even if you know what you were going to write about today or tomorrow, put those ideas aside. This is much more important. For example, Elden Nelson answered these questions and tagged , and he won a Bloggie, confirming that he is the most awesome sports-related blogger in the whole freaking world!
In contrast, Bob Bringhurst failed to answer these questions, after which he developed a serious case of ennui, and his hair grew out to become an unruly mess.
You don’t want this to happen to you, do you?
Fine, then. Answer these ten (fun, easy, and interesting) questions already.
If you could have any one — and only one — bike in the world, what would it be?
It would be my WaltWorks. I love the way that bike looks and rides, and I can’t imagine ever loving another bike more. Seriously, it’s my favorite bike ever. But that’s still a cheater answer, since my WaltWorks — currently set up as a fully rigid SS — can also be set up as a geared bike with a front suspension. And skinny tires combined with the big wheels could make it a serviceable (though not great) bike for getting around on the road.
Do you already have that coveted dream bike? If so, is it everything you hoped it would be? If not, are you working toward getting it? If you’re not working toward getting it, why not?
Yes, I do already have that dream bike, and it’s actually more than I hoped it would be. I’d like to point out, though, that one of the things I love about bikes is that even the most expensive, elegant, beautiful bike in the world still costs less than a Honda Civic. Bikes are one of the very few obsessions in the world where a normal — i.e., not fantastically rich — person can conceivably own the very best incarnation of his dream ride, without breaking the bank.
If you had to choose one — and only one — bike route to do every day for the rest of your life, what would it be, and why?
I would choose Tibble Fork, and I would do so without hesitation. It is really my very favorite ride in the world, and I think I could do it happily every day for the rest of my life. I explain why it’s my favorite ride here.
What kind of sick person would force another person to ride one and only one bike ride to to do for the rest of her / his life?
Yeah, totally. That’s evil on a movie villain scale.
Do you ride both road and mountain bikes? If both, which do you prefer and why? If only one or the other, why are you so narrowminded?
I ride both, because I am a well-balanced and intelligent person, who sees the good in most things. I prefer mountain bikes, though I have definitely hurt myself much more often riding MTB than road. I am suddenly concerned about what this says about me. Still, I like riding MTB better because it’s more fun for me. I am at a loss as to why this is true, but it is.
Have you ever ridden a recumbent? If so, why? If not, describe the circumstances under which you would ride a recumbent.
I have never ridden a recumbent. In order for me to acquiesce to riding a recumbent, I would have to be out of town, where nobody I know could possibly see me. Also, I would have to have a good reason, like somebody offering to let me ride their recumbent.
Have you ever raced a triathlon? If so, have you also ever tried strangling yourself with dental floss?
I have raced one triathlon. It was an Xterra event. The swim nearly killed me. I harbor a desire to go and do an IronMan some day, but I’d want to do it without training for it, just so I could casually mention, “Yeah, I pulled an Ironman off, once. It was no big deal. Kind of tedious.”
Suppose you were forced to either give up ice cream or bicycles for the rest of your life. Which would you give up, and why?
I would claim to give up ice cream, but would sneak it when nobody was around. Impossible to sneak bicycle riding. Too much physical evidence laying around.
What is a question you think this questionnaire should have asked, but has not? Also, answer it.
“How did you get to be so unbelievably handsome?” would be my question, to which my answer would be a modest, “Oh, go on. I’m nothing special.”
You’re riding your bike in the wilderness (if you’re a roadie, you’re on a road, but otherwise the surroundings are quite wilderness-like) and you see a bear. The bear sees you. What do you do?
I’m fairly confident I soil myself. Next, I offer the bear my bike, in exchange for which I get to keep my life. From what I understand, bears like bikes. At least, the one I saw at the circus seemed to.
Now, tag three biking bloggers. List them below.
I hereby tag the following bloggers, of which there are more than three, because I want to get this thing really rolling. And also, because I suspect that most of them won’t do it.
Oh, and if I didn’t tag you, but you wish I had, by all means please consider yourself tagged.
Or you’ll get leprosy.
Comments (49)
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