amplewritings

Clutter Buster: USB wall outlet

2015-03-26T22:33:00.005-07:00

Here's an easy DIY step we took recently to eliminate a little clutter.

Every night, we charge at least two devices with micro-USB cables, sometimes more. That used to involve fishing a couple charging cords and adaptors out of the drawer, untangling them, plugging in at the wall, and plugging in at the device end, followed by unplugging at each end and returning cords and adaptors to the drawer the next morning.

This Leviton USB power receptacle that we bought on Amazon lets us keep the two standard 110V outlets available while also providing two USB outlets, eliminating the need for separate USB adaptors. Installation is easy, can be done with one screwdriver, and only involves moving three wires from the old receptacle to the new one (unless you are replacing a GFCI receptacle upstream of other receptacles, in which case you'll need wire nuts, wire strippers and a couple new Romex leads). Make sure power is off to the outlet. If you don't know what you're doing, get more info or help until you do. There are many videos on the subject on YouTube.

We added a matching Leviton snap-on faceplate for the new outlet. The new receptacle is a standard size and fits inside the old wall plate, but the new one better matches the receptacle's color and texture.

Keeping retractable micro-USB cables like these plugged into the USB ports means we only have to plug and unplug at the device-side, which saves time and keeps the countertop, outlet and drawer tidy and cord-free during the day. Extend the cord at night and plug in the phone, unplug and retract the cord in the morning -- no more plugging/unplugging from the wall or fishing for and untangling adaptors/cords.

Not life-changing stuff, but on the road to becoming clutter-free, sometimes we take small steps, sometimes we take big steps. Incremental gains in convenience and decluttering add up to be meaningful when you experience them every single day!

Drawing Board Harmonograph Project

2014-05-22T21:47:00.001-07:00

Our kids participate in the Willow Glen Young Makers group, and we decided to do a family project for the San Mateo Maker Faire. The Exploratorium in San Francisco has a drawing board exhibit that my wife and kids like a lot -- we have several drawings from it hanging on the walls at home. We thought we'd make a smaller, "home" version.

This is probably the most use our ladder has seen in ten years. It's extended to about eight feet, with the ropes hanging from about six feet. The platform is 24"x24". Most of the other materials were also things we had around the house already. Parts we bought new were eyebolts, a large magnet, U-clamps, and a square dowel.

Click here for a few more photos and explanation of the parts and process.

Here's a video of the final product in action:

Minimalist Running Sandals Comparison Review

2013-11-09T22:30:00.001-08:00

Luna Sandals Venado (with MGT footbed)

(A recovering weight weenie cyclist has the urge to weigh everything. The Luna Sandals Venado is very light, at 198 grams for the pair.)

Pros:

Nice materials and finished appearance, with familiar, Teva-ish nylon webbing straps and buckles. Received the most compliments with these.
Very lightweight.
Stock sizes are nice and wide in the toes. No need to go custom for me, though that option is available if you need it.

Cons:

Heel strap wouldn't stay on. This seems to be a common issue. Luna recently introduced the "Tech Strap," an additional strap meant to keep the heel strap in place. The Tech Strap only comes with their thicker-soled Oso model for now. I don't know whether or when you'll be able to buy it separately, but I didn't want to have to deal with an additional strap and returned the sandals. Luna's customer service was fantastic.
7mm Vibram sole feels rather thick and stiff. (I was surprised at how light these actually were, only because they were so much stiffer than the Xero Shoes 4mm that I thought for sure they must be heavier.) If your goal is not to be slowed down by rough ground, then I guess you'll appreciate the protection offered by the stiffer sole. However, if you're looking for a lot of ground feel and flexibility, then you may be disappointed.
Kind of on the pricey side, at $65 for the MGT footbed and $80 for Pittards leather. Add $15 for custom.

Xero Shoes 4mm Connect with FeelTrue sole

The weight weenie winner by 4 grams: Xero Connect 4mm, at 194g.

Pros:

Very lightweight.
Very thin and flexible rubber sole. Thick enough to blunt the edges of gravel and sharp rocks, but thin and flexy enough for your feet to feel those things and conform to them. If you're looking for maximum minimalism, this is your sandal.
Sole shape is customized to your foot (either DIY, or you can send in a tracing of your foot). Great if you typically have a hard time finding shoes that are wide enough for your toes.
Very affordable, at $24.95 for adult-sized DIY kits (children's sizes are $19.99), and $39.99 for custom.

Cons:

Extremely minimal appearance. Might garner more raised eyebrows in certain venues compared to the other sandals described here. You're most likely to hear the phrase, "nice Jesus shoes," while wearing these.
Stock laces are nice and soft, but are a little stretchy and fray easily from incidental contact with the ground (which doesn't help the appearance issue). After a toe knot wore out, I replaced the laces with stiffer paracord, which holds its shape a bit and doesn't stretch, but is not nearly as soft.

Original laces on the bottom, new laces on the top. On balance, I prefer the stiffer paracord.

Xero Shoes Sensori Venture

Jesus didn't rock silicone and reflective piping.

Pros:

More finished appearance, lower "Jesus shoe" factor.
The rubbery toestrap holder inserts flat against the bottom of the sole (like a standard flip-flop) and takes less getting used to than traditional cord between the toes with a knot under the sole.
Ready-to-wear design, so you can get a pair on your feet faster than going the DIY or custom route.
Reasonably priced at $39.99.

Cons:

Surprisingly heavy.

The Sensori Venture's extra sole thickness and additional strapping really pile on the grams: 329g, compared to its much svelter cousin at 194g.

Thicker sole also means less ground feel. The "5.5mm" sole (perhaps 0.5mm treads cut into a 6mm blank, which would make the 4mm soles actually 3.5mm with 0.5mm tread) still feels more flexible than the Luna's Vibram, but seems like overkill compared to the 4mm Connect sole.
Slightly tapered sole shape may not match feet with wider toes. I was surprised that a shape with the widest point closer to the toes like that on the Lunas wasn't chosen for this model, especially since going custom is not an option. My pinky toes extended past the edge of the Sensori Venture soles. Because of this and the heavier weight, I ended up returning these too. Xero Shoes also exhibited fine customer service.

My Favorite
The pros and cons above are from an extreme "less is more" perspective. If, like mine, your objective is to get as close to barefoot as possible while still wearing something on your feet, then the clear winner is the Xero Shoes 4mm version. If you're looking to race Leadville in sandals, then I have zero advice to offer, though I suspect you'll want to choose differently.

DIY Zero Drop Sorel Snow Boots

2013-10-27T12:17:00.001-07:00

Well, the boots themselves aren't DIY. Hardly, in fact -- the boots in question are Sorel's classic Caribou model, "often imitated but never equaled." Not only do they keep you warm and dry in the snow, but also they feature a roomy forefoot that won't pinch your toes. They do have an elevated heel, however.

I hadn't worn shoes with lifted heels at all for a few months, until two weekends ago on a family corn-picking expedition. (No, that's not a regular thing for us, even if I am from the Midwest.) Traipsing through dried cornstalks in sandals seemed like a bad idea, so I dusted off some old hiking boots (an older version of these Hi-Tecs). I was surprised at how unnatural the lifted heel of the boots felt all day, after only a few months away from elevated heels. The feeling was not pleasant, and the heel elevation serves no function for me. Unfortunately, the contoured EVA midsole/sole design doesn't appear to offer an easy zero drop hack.

There are more and more zero drop shoe and boot offerings coming on the market now, so I'm optimistic I'll have something suitable for our next corn-picking trip, probably in 2015. (We picked what felt like a two-year supply of corn this time.)

Winter is only a couple months away, however. A zero drop version of my Sorels would be nice to have for trips to the snow, but there isn't anything like that in the catalog. The current version has around a 10mm drop -- no stiletto, but still enough to be felt. And, I already have a pair of otherwise perfectly fine Caribous in the garage; it would be a shame not to put them to use. Luckily, the sole design of these boots lends itself to a fairly easy modification to zero drop.

If you look above, the total height of the front of the sole with lugs is about the height of the heel without lugs. You've guessed the solution: cut the lugs off the heel. The rubber is tough, but the job is doable with a medium amount of elbow grease or less, depending on the tools at your disposal. I wrapped the boot in a rag and put it in a vise, then used tin snips to cut off the small round lugs, and a hacksaw to cut off the thick part at the back of the heel (that part was the toughest).

I wasn't able to cut the lugs perfectly flush with the base of the heel, so I cut as close as I could and finished the job with a power grinder. Power tools are nice, but melting the rubber becomes a problem with prolonged contact.

The finished product is above. The boots feel much better! The heel currently is lugless, but since the remaining rubber is the same thickness as the front sole/lug stack, material can be cut away from the heel with a Dremel to recreate a similar lug pattern if it proves necessary for traction. (I'm not sure how necessary heel lugs will be, though. It's possible that with a more barefoot-style walking gait enabled by the zero drop sole, the heel won't touch down as hard or as far in front of the rest of the body as with the original sole. Rolling down gently from heel to the full sole gets the full sole down sooner for traction and should reduce the sharp landing impact when the heel is the only part on the ground and most likely to slip forward. I'll give it a try in the snow this winter before breaking out the Dremel.)

Huaraches: Barefoot Running Training Aid

2013-10-12T21:24:00.001-07:00

As I've written before, running barefoot by itself is no guarantee of learning good barefoot technique, but it gives you the best odds. Even the thinnest soles on your feet mask valuable sensory feedback about your footfalls and stride that you get from skin directly on the ground. But even when barefoot, it is absolutely possible (and likely, in my case) to land too far forward despite touching down with what feels like a nice forefoot landing under the hips.

If you listen carefully, though, you can hear where your feet are landing relative to your hips, even when barefoot. The more in front, the louder the sound. "Loud" is relative, of course. In bare soles, it's the difference between slightly audible and essentially silent. It's not always easy to tell the difference, especially if you haven't had many glimmers of "essentially silent" for comparison. This is where huaraches can serve as a helpful training aid.

The same slightly forward barefoot landing that makes a small "pit-pat-pit-pat" sound becomes an impossible-to-miss SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP when performed in huaraches.* It may feel like you're already touching down as far back under your hips as possible, but that auditory evidence proves otherwise.

*There may be some huarache versions or tying methods that don't provide this kind of feedback -- I've only tried a couple. I predict any version with a thin sole and non-elastic, not-super-tight laces will provide the same result, but YMMV.

If you bend your knees a little more and don't bring your legs forward so much after each landing, the SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP becomes a "slap slap slap slap." Maybe no longer loud enough to be heard a block away, but still plenty loud. Keep going lower, however, by letting the knees and ankles flex deeply with the heels still touching down with each landing (NOT by bending at the waist; the upper body should stay tall), and the noise gradually lessens to a "pif pif pif pif." At this point, if you're moving with any decent speed, you are probably feeling more elastic recoil in your stride than ever and touching down with what feels like zero impact.

Apply that same stride while barefoot, and you'll be running softly enough to sneak up on dogs and their walkers.** I still plan to do as much of my running in bare feet as I can. The feedback it provides is incomparable, and also it's just plain fun. But for the times I do run in shoes (because of the cold, or distance, or whatever), huaraches will provide a nice reality check on my form.

**It's safer and more pleasant for everyone if you announce yourself, though. Clear your throat, or call out "on your left," etc. Enjoy your silent running responsibly!

Before You Start Running Barefoot, Read This Book

2013-09-16T23:01:00.003-07:00

Barefoot Running Step by Step, by Barefoot Ken Bob Saxton and Roy M. Wallack.

Barefoot Ken Bob's eccentric appearance and name gave me some pause, but I finally got around to reading his book a few weeks ago. During the brief time I was barefoot running before reading the book, I made every single beginner mistake that he describes how to avoid. Oops. Still, better late than never. I learned three good tips that I hadn't (and haven't) read anywhere else, which I'll describe at the end of this post.

Back to the book: Ken Bob has thoughtfully observed and refined his own barefoot running technique over decades, much like scientist-laboratory-subject all rolled into one. He presents his extensive learnings in simple, easy to understand terms, with many helpful mental images.

He also presents plenty of corny humor, and there are more action shots of paunchy middle-aged guys than I needed to see to believe that anybody can learn barefoot running. Even so, it's a quick and pleasant read. In addition to the "how," the book explains the "why" for running barefoot. Of course, if you have any interest in reading the book to begin with, you probably were at least somewhat familiar with the why already. Finally, the book includes anecdotes of both high-level and regular-shmoe runners who have benefited from racing or training barefoot, or both.

My top three unique Ken Bob tips:

1. Start on a Rough Surface. Ken Bob recommends sharp gravel if you can find it. I make do with rough pavement near my house. This will force you to start slowly, as your feet won't handle more than a few steps in the beginning. Starting slowly, in turn, will give your feet and ankles time to strengthen and your soles time to thicken. (Too much running, too soon, on smooth pavement, was one of my beginner mistakes, which led to the usual aches and pains. I've since started over on rough pavement, with more walking than running.) Somewhat counter-intuitively, the feedback from the rough surface will also help you learn to relax, which in turn helps you carry out tip #2.

2. More Knee-Bend! "Bend your knees" is a common tip, but nobody runs with straight knees, so it's easy to think, "Duh, I already bend my knees." Chances are, you don't -- not enough, anyway. Ken Bob effectively conveys how much more your knees should bend compared to when running with shoes. He provides several drills to get the feeling of this greater degree of knee bend, which will likely feel completely foreign if you've only been running in shoes in the past, but which is a critical ingredient for smoothing out the ride.

3. Lift Toes Up. A subtle lifting of the toes both before landing and during "liftoff" reduces undue friction on your feet that would otherwise result from what Ken Bob coins the "suction cup" effect at landing and from excessive toe-off action at liftoff. At liftoff, the heel still leaves the ground first, but you want to strive for the feeling of lifting your toes off, even if your liftoff probably won't appear to be any different. It creates a subtle change, but without it, I'm certain I would have blisters on several toes.

Running Update, August 2013

2013-08-19T21:28:00.000-07:00

I've been working on my running for about two months now. It's very slow going, both in terms of average pace and longest distance, for a couple reasons.

For one thing, I recently decided to learn barefoot-style running by actually running barefoot. Considering that I've spent more time in the past month outdoors in bare feet than I have in the preceding forty-plus years combined, it's going to take some time for my feet to get into barefoot running condition; not just the sole, but muscles, tendons and ligaments too.

By the way, my original intention was to do all my running in thin-soled, zero-drop shoes, like the New Balance Minimus Trail Zero, while wearing thin cycling socks. Growing up, we always wore shoes outside, but never inside, the house. Going barefoot didn't fit into that paradigm. If you wanted to stroll around outside without shoes, what would you do when it was time to go back inside -- take off your dirty feet and leave them by the door?

But after just a couple weeks of running in the Zeros, my feet got wider, and the shoes became too tight to run with socks. The Zeros are intended for sockless running, so I gave it a try one day on a short errand (possibly the first errand I've literally run). I haven't worn shoes without socks since high school, and the seams of the uppers started to chafe the thin skin on the top of my feet.

I was very close to home and decided to jog barefoot the rest of the way, and that's when I had my revelation. I was shocked at how different my form was. There really is a world of difference in feedback that you get when barefoot compared to wearing minimal shoes. Of course, it's still possible to run with bad form in bare feet, but the feedback from your soles directly against the ground gives you better odds of learning good form.

The other reason I'm off to a slow start is that I'm giving long slow distance training a try, meaning I'm doing all my running at a low heart rate in the hopes of increasing my aerobic endurance. My goal is to run 12-14 miles to work (depending on route) and not be wiped out and useless for the rest of the day, so I want to be able to do that run at an easy, all-day heart rate. I can't do the "long" part of long slow distance yet because my feet and ankles tire out, but I can at least stick to a 145bpm ceiling on my heart rate, which for now means averaging between 9 and 10 minute miles -- very far from my 8 minute target.

Though I haven't seen progress on increasing my aerobic pace, I'm starting to see progress on another. For me, true feel for a new activity, the ability to do it well versus just describe how to do it well, has always come later than the academic or theoretical understanding of technique. E.g. the golf swing, bump skiing, throwing a roundhouse kick, cornering a motorcycle, etc. I've read a ton of stuff on barefoot style running by now and can discuss impact peaks, foot strikes, stride rates, posture, etc., but yesterday, I noticed the first glimmer of feel for it as well.

The progress is slow, but I'll take it.

Born to Run? I plan to find out.

2013-06-30T20:11:00.003-07:00

I read "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall a few months ago. I highly recommend it. The author is an excellent storyteller and offers up many things in a relatively short read: fascinating characters, suspenseful racing action, human evolutionary theory, cultural anthropology, an example of large companies continuing to market products despite knowing they injure customers, an introduction to sustainable running technique, and a compelling argument that lifelong running is a natural part of being a healthy and happy human being.

What has me interested in giving running a try now, in my forties, is that last item. For the past three years, I've been aware of the "natural" or "minimal" running trend, having read about Chi Running, POSE, etc., and being increasingly subjected to the sight of people running (or worse, not running) in Vibram's 5-finger gorilla slippers and the like. While the idea that running can be done without injury is nice for a person who runs, that possibility by itself doesn't make me want to start running. The book's description of running as a potential lifelong source of joy, however, definitely resonates. One of the things I love most about cycling is the experience of moving through the outdoors under my own power. If it's possible natural/minimal running can offer a version of that without the kind of joint damage I thought was unavoidable, then I'm all for giving it a try, advanced years notwithstanding.

But I do know that, for any chance of success, this will have to be a long experiment. Even with no-impact cycling, I've noticed I need more recovery time than I did just a couple years ago. For me, proceeding slowly might be the toughest part of learning to run fast. On the bright side, patience comes more easily with age.

Saddles: ISM Adamo Time Trial versus ISM Adamo Road

2013-06-23T21:37:00.001-07:00

I bought a first-gen Adamo Road several years ago, when I first started roadbiking and was still on the hunt for the "perfect" saddle. It was okay for shorter rides, but I couldn't handle it for more than a couple hours. I did my first century on it and discovered why the phrase "ass hatchet" was coined.

I've seen a handful of other ISM saddles on roadie duty since, but the triathlon and TT crowd seems like a better market fit. Despite that, ISM didn't introduce their TT-specific version until 2011.

Generally speaking, amateur TT events are under an hour, and for that amount of time, riders can tolerate a more extreme aero position than what they might endure for, say, the bike leg of an Ironman. So, one would expect the Time Trial model to sport differences that work better than the rest of the ISM lineup for rider positions with a relatively high degree of forward pelvis rotation. ISM has 14 models in its lineup as of today.

I believe the Road/Racing was the first of them all, and it's interesting to see the subtle evolution from the Road to the Time Trial. I've used both saddles on my TT bike, which I ride in an aggressive aero position since I have more flexibility than wattage. In the interest of saving thousands of words, here are several side-by-side pictures:

Each of the "fork prongs" is narrower on the Time Trial.

The prongs on the Time Trial also have vertical edges, compared to the angled versions on the Road. The narrower and smoother prongs on the Time Trial interfere less with the inner thighs throughout the pedal stroke.

The Time Trial's prongs also slope downwards near the tip of the nose(s), which makes riding with your pelvis rotated forward and resting on the front half of the saddle more comfortable. Perhaps it's due to the difference in shape, or maybe there is less or different padding on the Time Trial, but the Road feels overpadded there. The Time Trial's firmer feel works well for aggressive positions: when you're rotated forward and sitting on the front half of the saddle, your junk can kind of hang off the front of the Time Trial, suspended with very little pressure. When riding in the same position on the Road, the padding seems to be displaced to all sides by the weight of your pelvic bones, so the padding ends up creating pressure on nearby soft tissues.

So, the verdict on the Time Trial is that it lives up to its name. Rather than just being different for the sake of an additional SKU, the differences from the Road are well tailored for the type of aggressive aero position likely to be found in dedicated TT applications.

(By the way, for my roadbikes, I've been happiest on unpadded Selle SMP saddles, so for my TT bike, I thought I'd try SMP's TT-specific model, the "Chrono." The Chrono did not work for me on the TT bike at all. It was awful in fact, far worse than the ISM Road. I think the ISM style of snub-nose, split saddle is best once you're in even a moderately forward aero position.)

(Finally, this last observation has nothing to do with anything, but the laundry on the sofa in the background of the last picture kind of mimics the colors and arrangement of the two saddles on the coffee table. Aesthetics, always aesthetics.)

Review: American Classic Road Tubeless Wheelset

2013-06-22T23:39:00.002-07:00

Short Version:

Moderate price and very light weight equals low everyday durability. There's no exciting new math at work here; it's still, "cheap, light, and strong: choose two."

Long Version:

I picked up a pair of American Classic Road Tubeless wheels last September. Low weight generally comes at the expense of durability, but I thought I'd see how these fared as everyday, all-weather wheels. Could I enjoy tubular-like weight with everyday clincher convenience?

Nine months later, the experiment has largely ended. Even if the rear rim hadn't cracked two weeks ago (on the DS of an NDS spoke), both front and rear rim wear indicators (located right above the valve stem) have nearly vanished from the braking surfaces -- not something you want on your mind when braking hard on a long and fast descent.

The wheels were nice while they lasted. You really would only buy these hoops for the weight, and they were certainly light. The front rim with factory-installed tape was 556g, while the rear came in at 702g, for a total of 1258g. That's not as light as AC's advertised 1219g (that might be the weight without rimtape), or as light as last year's Stan's Alpha 340 Pro wheels with the old crack-prone rims and similar AC hubs, but much lighter than the current Alpha 340 Pro set, which has a stronger/heavier rim design along with new Stan's branded hubs for an advertised weight of 1330g. 1258g is in tubular territory, albeit somewhat taller and more aero tubular territory rather than low-profile tubular territory. Still, it's impressive for an all aluminum, tubeless-ready clincher.

The included AC quick releases were nothing to write home about at 99g.

AC also includes a pair of valve stems, and unlike the QRs, these are very light: 7g for the pair, compared to 9g for a single Stan's 44mm valve. (The Stan's wheels also don't come with valves, so it's nice to have them shipped with the ACs.) The AC valves look snazzy in anodized red (which worked well with my bike's colors; YMMV) and come with a nice plastic washer, flat on one side to go under the lockring and concave on the other side to mate perfectly with the curved top of the rim.

The AC valve stems use a thin donut-shaped rubber washer to seat the base of the stem against the inside of the rim. This contributes to their light weight, no doubt, but it also means they may not seal well if you ever have to retape the rim and reinstall the stem. I had to do just that and discovered there wasn't enough elasticity left in the donut to conform to the new junction after being compressed in its previous position for so long. The conical rubber washer like the kind Stan's uses is much better, and I ended up transplanting an old Stan's stem from a different wheel to the retaped AC rim.

The AC rims are 22mm wide, even wider than the Alpha 340 at 20mm. The current conventional wisdom is that wider rims contribute to a softer ride and better cornering: softer ride because the tire has greater volume, and better cornering because the rim doesn't move laterally as much over the tire when leaned over in a turn. Seems plausible, though I can't feel a difference between the AmClassics at 22mm and the NoTubes at 20mm. Both are wider than a traditional clincher rim, and both give the tire a noticeably different cross-section near the rim edge compared to traditional clincher rims, with less of a lightbulb shape because of the greater distance between beads.

The black/silver/white color scheme isn't bad and worked on my bike. I also like the contrast provided by the white hubs, but it looks like the colors have changed to a black/silver logo scheme for 2013.

The hub internals have held up decently. The rear bearings seem okay, and I had no problems with the quiet freehub. The steel spline reinforcement on the hub shell is another nice design touch and helps reduce, though not completely eliminate, gouging from the cassette. That in turn makes subsequent cassette removal and installation easier. The front hub is developing a little bit of play, so those bearings would warrant replacing if there were more life left in the rim.

The Achilles heel for road tubeless on light, low spoke-count wheels is spoke tension. I've only used Hutchinson Fusion 3 tubeless tires, so I don't know if the beads on other tubeless tires are any less tight, but as soon as you mount a tire, the spoke tension drops dramatically. Every wheel loses some spoke tension with a tire mounted, but the loss on road tubeless is much greater than traditional clinchers, allowing the spokes to work themselves even looser unless you go at them right away with the spoke wrench. This was the case for my Stan's wheels, for the eBay 88mm carbon clinchers I converted to tubeless, and for these ACs as well. The ACs are specifically intended for tubeless, but that made no difference. It was a challenge to tighten the spokes enough so that they didn't work themselves loose again every month or so, too. Low spoke-counts require higher spoke tension, but thin-walled, superlight rims are more likely to fail under that higher spoke tension.

(Spoke tension isn't just a problem with boxed road tubeless wheelsets, as I confirmed when my LBS built me a wheel with a new Alpha 340 rim. I brought the shop a Fusion 3 along with my new rim and hub and asked them to tape the rim, mount the tire and re-tension the spokes as necessary, explaining my concerns about road tubeless and spoke tension. After the build, they didn't have the right rimtape in stock, so I brought home a properly tensioned but unshod wheel. After I taped the rim and mounted the tire, the spoke tension plummeted, with a couple spokes working themselves nearly slack after one short ride -- no better than my factory-boxed wheels.)

I had hoped the ACs would provide tubular-like weight with the everyday practicality of tubeless clinchers, but a wheelset that wears out after 9 months is not everyday practical for me. I used the wheels on my commute and on longer weekend rides throughout our mildly rainy winter, which no doubt accelerated wear of the brake tracks, but to have the tracks be toast after only 9 months is still disappointing. To be fair, AC doesn't market these as bombproof training wheels. How would they fare as special "race day" wheels? The ACs are very light for clinchers, but not as light as similarly low-profile tubulars. If you're going to have a super light wheelset for hill climbs or hilly races, then you might as well go with a tubular and drop another 100-200g. Road tubeless does offer flat protection, but you could use sealant in your tubulars and get some of that same flat protection while still coming out much lighter. So, if you're after a "special occasion" wheel that offers tubular-ish light weight without the tubular glue experience, then the AC rims are a good option. That's not what I need, though, so my next wheels will be heavier and hopefully much longer lasting.

Garmin Edge 500 Wrist Strap

2013-04-28T22:58:00.001-07:00

I'm a terrible runner, but once in a while I forget and go out for a run. Afterwards, I wonder if I was really as slow as I felt and wish I'd brought my Edge 500 along for GPS and HR info. I've seen somebody jogging with a 500 attached to their wrist, so I went online to look for an Edge 500 wrist mount.

Garmin makes one for its Forerunner, but it comes in a pack with other mounting stuff I don't want, and it looks like a 1980's 3-function Casio black plastic watch with the watch swapped for a Garmin Forerunner mount, which may or may not be compatible with the Edge mount. Anyway, I wanted a nylon webbing strap with velcro to get a better fit than I could with holes on a traditional watch strap.

REI had a few velcro wrist straps to choose from. The nicest and widest was a neoprene-ish one that was unfortunately too long for my wrist and too short for my upper arm. I went with this one instead:

It says "long" but was the only size on the rack. Luckily, it fit.

All but one of the straps I saw have a separate, thinner top strap to which you attach a watch body using spring pins. To attach the Edge quarter-turn mount, choose one of the smaller o-rings that's close in size to the mount.

You won't need the rubber pad from the bottom of the mount. The hard plastic will sit on top of the bottom strap, not directly on your wrist.

Slide the o-ring in between the top strap and bottom strap:

Hook the o-ring over the two prongs on each side of the mount:

And you end up with this:

It looks a bit silly, especially on a smaller wrist, so you have to not care about that. I don't, and even if I did, I don't run often enough to justify a dedicated device, so this works for me.

I tried it out today. It was 85 degrees and I was sweating accordingly. The weight of the Edge tended to torque the strap downwards with my arm swing. I found I wasn't looking at the readout much anyway, so eventually I turned the strap so that the Edge was on the bottom of my wrist where it had been trying to go on its own. It didn't budge after that. I might even try turning the mount 90 degrees so that the Edge is more in line with the forearm down there. Or, I could just wear it as pictured; either way, I like it more than having the Edge bouncing around in a pocket.

Quick Fix: SRAM Red DoubleTap Sticky Shifter

2013-03-23T11:16:00.001-07:00

SRAM DoubleTap shifters are essentially maintenance free. I have the first generation Red and Force versions, and there aren't even any maintenance instructions in the factory technical manual.

Recently, however, the effort required to click down a cog on the rear has been increasing, and today it took so much pressure to release the pawl that I ended up pushing the lever in too far, moving up a cog instead of just dropping down one.

As I mentioned above, there aren't any maintenance instructions in the factory instruction manual, and a cursory internet search didn't turn up anything helpful either. What I ended up doing actually worked, so I thought I'd post it.

First, I checked the cable housing and cable guide under the bottom bracket for any obvious source of binding. I didn't think that was the problem because the shifter didn't require unusual effort to reel cable in and move up cogs, nor did the cable seem slow in releasing when dropping down cogs. It's an easy thing to inspect, though, and in this case to rule out.

So, I pulled the rubber hood off to see what could be seen. The ratchet and pawls, upper and lower, are visible through a cutout on the inside of the shifter body.

The pawl at the bottom gets moved out first when you push on the shift lever -- it's the first click you hear when shifting. The top pawl then engages to stop the ratchet from spinning clockwise and releasing cable. If you release the shift lever at this point, then the top pawl will retract, and the ratchet will turn clockwise one notch until the bottom pawl engages again, releasing enough cable to drop one cog. If you continue pushing the lever inward instead of releasing it right away, then the top pawl pushes the ratchet counterclockwise, which reels in one, two or three notches' worth of shifter cable, depending on how far in you push the shift lever.

My ratchet and pawls had become somewhat grimy. I neglected to take a "before" photo, unfortunately. The photo above is after I gently swabbed the pawls and each notch of the ratchet with a bunch of dry Q-tips. I had to push the shift lever in to expose the bottom half of the bottom pawl so that I could swab that part.

This cured the sticky shifting problem, to my pleasant surprise. I don't know if the problem was due to friction from gritty stuff that had accumulated in the old grease, or due to a lack of grease on the actual surfaces where the parts came in contact. Maybe both. The swabbing both removed grit and distributed whatever clean lube was left. I didn't swab hard enough to completely degrease the surfaces of the parts (I don't think), but just to make sure the contact zones weren't completely dry, I moistened a Q-tip with ProGold ProLink chain lube and lightly dabbed the pawls and ratchet. The ProLink stuff doesn't seem to get gunky, unlike marine grease or Boeshield T-9, which were the other two lubricants I have in the garage. Maybe there's a secret SRAM manual somewhere that recommends a particular lubricant for these shifter internals, but since I'm not privy to such thing, I went with least gunky.

Here's a stunningly high-quality video (many seconds are actually in focus!) of some slow downshifts and upshifts to show the two pawls in action. It's impressive mechanical engineering. You can see signs of wear on the contact surfaces, but for something with so many small moving parts, it's performed consistently well over thousands of miles with zero maintenance until now. (The weird purplish chevron-shaped thing is the edge of my Blackburn Flea blinky, which I affixed with blue painter's tape to the shifter body to light the scene for my camera phone. I spared no production expense shooting this fine footage, it's true.)

2012 Levi's GranFondo

2012-10-03T21:47:00.002-07:00

This year's GranFondo experience started much like last year's. I carpooled with a couple friends on Friday afternoon, went straight to registration where we met up with more riding buddies, then on to another fine dinner at La Texanita, and finally to the motel. No fleas this year, happily. I was in bed by 9:30pm and easily fell asleep.

The morning of the ride was quite cold, about 50 degrees. We lined up a little later and consequently further back than last year. The staging area filled quickly. Here's the view in front:

And to the back:

Even with windbreaker and armwarmers on, I was shivering while waiting for the ride to start. Of course, I only needed them for the staging area and the first 10 miles of the ride, so they spent most of the ride in my pockets.

There were plenty of pros and B-list celebrities announced, but I only saw one all day. After the start, my fellow carpoolers started working their way toward the very front of the pack. I was able to follow for a while, until a left turn followed by a rise in the road where riders bunched up. I was not sufficiently aggressive in moving up through the throng to stay with my companions, and we ended up in separate groups. I'm told I missed out on motorpacing behind Tom Danielson and a motorcycle.

Eventually the riders in my vicinity, including the Queen of Pain, organized into a good paceline, and we went pretty hard until the Cazadero rest stop around mile 30. (As an aside, I saw on Strava that Her Royal Painfulness ultimately finished 24 minutes faster than me, stopping for only 4 minutes and cranking out higher average power at a leisurely HR. The pros really are a different species.) As we neared the rest stop, I was on the right edge of the lane, and a few riders near me started turning right to enter the rest stop. I was sort of funneled into the rest stop with them and had to say goodbye to the paceline. On the bright side, my bladder had been feeling full for a while, so I heeded the call of nature and quickly got back on the course.

The next group to come along was much slower. I stayed at the front for a bit and tried to bring up the pace of the group, but they weren't interested and just let me roll off the front, perhaps saving their energy for the climb ahead. After the road turned up, I got a sense of my fitness, or lack thereof, comparing with dismay the difference between objective watts/HR and my subjective rate of perceived effort.

It was sunny and much hotter on the Ridge than last year. I reached the King Ridge rest stop just as my buddies were leaving it, so I kept rolling and rode with them until the Ritchey Ranch stop 15 miles later, where I stopped for lunch while they continued on.

After lunch, there was a lot of descending, including the nice drop down to the coast, where the weather was cool and overcast. I joined a fast paceline that skipped the Schoolhouse Beach stop and went straight to the Coleman climb. My friends had stopped at Schoolhouse Beach to shmooze with Levi and soon caught up to me on Coleman, and I increased my pace to stay with them up the climb.

That proved painful. Though my bike was lighter this year, my corpus was also fatter, and I hadn't been putting in the same kind of miles as last year. Those last two points might be related. Anyway, most of my climbing times were slower this year. But, I managed to hang on for Coleman, and we finished the ride together. I shaved a few minutes off my moving time somehow, and total ride time was 20 minutes shorter than last year, which is a big improvement. No pain, no gain, I suppose.

Back at the Findley Center, we sat on the sofa under the Camelbak tent, eating, drinking and bs'ing for a long time before heading to the car and the drive home. Traffic was much smoother, and though you can't tell from this poor photograph, we were treated to picturesque scenes of fog rolling off the hills near the Golden Gate.

Important tip for next time: bring cash in the jersey pockets for extra food and the table massages!

Nutrition notes:
I nearly always put plain water in my bottles now to avoid gas problems from maltodextrin drinks. Learning my lesson from last year, I also made sure to eat sooner during the ride: a pack of ShotBloks and a CLIF bar before lunch, and another pack of Shotbloks after. For lunch, I had a turkey avocado sandwich (minus the bread) and a delicious Coke. No stomach problems, and no bonking.

Equipment notes:
This was my first long ride on American Classic Road Tubeless wheels. I would add a bit more air pressure next time, but other than that, the ride was good: cushy on the bumpy stuff and stable in the corners.

As I noted in my review of the Planet X brakes here, very hard braking wasn't the smoothest, particularly on the really steep descent after the King Ridge rest stop. Otherwise, most braking was fine.

The most dramatic difference from last year was my bike fit. Last year, I rode with this reach and drop, which I had settled on when I was doing a lot of criteriums:

When I bought the BMC last fall, I painstakingly replicated the same amount of reach and drop from the slammed Cannondale. After riding Climb to Kaiser this summer, I felt inordinately sore in the back, neck and hands. About a month ago, it finally dawned on me that I was neither racing crits nor riding enough to stay conditioned for that aesthetically-sound-yet-physically-taxing bike fit. I began playing around with spacers and stems and settled on this:

That's 30mm of spacers, and a 6-degree stem flipped up. It's somewhat, uh, what's that word... oh yeah, "hideous." But, it's much, much more comfortable. (I even double wrapped the bars for extra cushy goodness.) It may sting my eyes to view from off the bike, but I'm not subjected to that profile when I'm actually riding. I am very aware of reduced pain in my back, neck and hands, however. In particular, long descents deep into 100+ mile rides are more fun since I can stay tucked in the drops without my back screaming at me the whole time. I still have the Cannondale if I ever feel the urge to do another crit (unlikely), but for the long events I'm more apt to do these days, well, form follows function.

Review: Planet X Ultra Light CNC Brakes

2012-09-13T22:38:00.001-07:00

I've been wishing for lighter brakes, in black instead of silver, for not too much money, so I picked up a pair of these when they went on clearance. (Other colors are also available.) The brakes are single pivot, with a variable leverage cam pull design, similar to SRAM's 2013 Red brakes. I worried that the single pivot design might make setup difficult, but it wasn't an issue because the design also incorporates a centering adjustment screw (more on that later). Appearance-wise, the finish quality looks good, and I appreciate the absence of logos.

On my scale, the brakes with pads and hardware weigh ~105g each. The 2011 Red calipers they replace weigh ~135g each, for a total weight savings of ~60g.

The Planet X brakes came with an extra cable pincher (3 total; only 2 pictured), a pair of ridged washers that were thinner and slightly smaller diameter than the ridged washers already on the mounting bolts (not sure what these extras were for), an extra mounting nut (I'm guessing to allow for different sized forks), a Torx wrench for the mounting nuts, a tiny wrench for the cable pincher, and three small hex wrenches of various sizes. Strangely, none of the hex wrenches fit the little centering screws on the left caliper arms.

Some installation tips:

The included Torx wrench wouldn't fit under the rear brake bridge of my frame. Other frames with a seatstay/seat-tube junction close to the rear wheel will have the same issue. I used an adjustable wrench and a Torx bit instead, pictured below.

Unlike the old Red brakes, the cable housing stop on the caliper is too small in diameter to accommodate a regular ferrule on the end of the housing, so either feed the end directly into the housing stop without a ferrule, or use a step-down ferrule like the Jagwire POPs I saved from a couple years ago. (I wondered back then what the heck the stepdown ferrules were for.)

The black cable pincher is also part of the quick release mechanism and needs enough cable slack to slide out from under the hook at the end of the red cam arm. When deciding where on the cable to tighten the pincher, screw in the cable adjuster all the way, squeeze the calipers against the rim with one hand, and with the other hand pull the cable taut and use a Sharpie to mark where the pincher needs to be on the cable so that it can just clear the end of the red cam arm. After installation, you will likely have to back out the cable adjuster to bring the pads close enough for braking and screw it back down whenever you need to remove a wheel.
Use an adjustable wrench or pliers to keep the cable pincher from turning as you tighten the allen bolt down on the brake cable. Put tape on the jaws if you're afraid of marring the finish on the pincher. The included miniature wrench is too small and will slip off the flats when you apply any serious torque to the allen screw. I installed the pincher with the allen head facing down for a cleaner look. The brakes don't care which way it faces.
The centering screw on the left caliper arm works by moving the spring closer to the rim, which results in pushing the left pad further away from the rim. (Below is a side view of the centering screw, viewed from the back of the brake.) In theory, it would make sense to tighten the screw to the center of its range before mounting the brakes since you don't know whether your pads will need adjusting to the right or left, but both my front and rear brakes needed the left pad moved out, so starting with the centering screw all the way out was fine for me. YMMV.

This tip is not specific to these brakes, but if you plan on switching wheels often, make sure the pad height and caliper width work for the different wheels. My NoTubes Alpha 340 brake tracks are slightly lower and their rims wider than on my Ksyriums, so I set up the brakes with the NoTubes rims to ensure enough slack for the quick release to work and to make sure the brake pads don't hang off the rim and touch the tire. If your wheels are different enough, readjusting the pad height may be unavoidable when you switch rims, but if they're close like mine, paying attention could save you a round of pad holder adjustments.

Riding Impressions:

I don't have many miles on these yet, so I will update this post when I do. The Planet X brake on the front feels a little less powerful for the same amount of lever pull than the old front Red brake so far, but I installed new cables with the new brakes, so the different feel may be a new cable needing to finish its new cable stretch. The rear brakes feel the same; the Planet X can brake to lock-up with the same amount of lever travel and effort as the Red. The brakes do have different pads, but I'm not motivated enough to swap in the Reds' Swiss-stops for a better apples-to-apples comparison right now. If the braking on the front doesn't improve, I'll swap out the blue no-name pads on the Planet X with the Swiss-stops and see what happens.

9/29/2012 UPDATE: The front brake continues to feel slightly less powerful, but more important for some may be the difference in modulation compared to the old Red brake. Under harder braking, the Planet X is harder to modulate smoothly. More lever force can increase braking force somewhat unevenly rather than linearly. Now, this could be due to the blue pads, which seem kind of soft. Or, perhaps I have not yet ridden enough to finish breaking in the new brake cable. The difference might also be attributable to the new wheels I'm using. I certainly won't claim this has been any sort of controlled experiment. But, the key point is that the difference doesn't rise to the level of a safety hazard, or even a reason to try a different brake. I put the front brake to the test on some very steep and tight descents today and wouldn't hesitate to do so again, since braking power and modulation were both sufficient. The Red just felt a little more refined and solid at the extreme. Maybe I'll get motivated enough to swap the pads and see what happens, since that's rather simple.

2012 Climb to Kaiser

2012-07-04T00:16:00.001-07:00

I signed up for Climb to Kaiser, my first, a few days before the ride. I had an itch to try a new event, the deadline hadn't passed yet, and my friends Dave and Peter kindly offered me cot space in their hotel room, so it was easy to pull the trigger. The ride is billed as 155 miles and 13,500 feet of climbing, but everybody's Garmin seems to show over 14,000 feet. Regardless, I discovered that this ride is much tougher than the numbers alone might suggest!

I hadn't done many long rides recently, but it was too late to do anything about that. Ride preparation consisted of putting a new chain on the bike and installing my 11-28 frankencassette (which adds a 16-tooth cog in place of the 13). I left for Clovis after dinner on Friday and arrived at the hotel just in time to assemble my cot, talk bikes with Dave and Peter for a few minutes and go to sleep. It surprised me that the temp was still in the 90's at 9:30pm...

We woke up at 4am and got ready. A CLIF bar in the car on the drive to the start served as breakfast. There was no line for check-in, so I picked up my packet, pinned on my number, and headed to the bathroom with plenty of time before the start. However, the line for the bathroom was long and slow. By the time I got on the bike, it was minutes before the start, and I was so far in back that I could barely make out the front.

Somewhere up there was a motorcycle escort to lead us out of town. We started rolling at 5:30am, and I began working my way forward looking for Dave and Peter, who I guessed were near the front. The ride was supposed to have about 300 riders, and it seemed like every one of them was in front of me! The motorcycle escort must have been hauling ass, because the pack quickly fractured into many smaller groups separated by ever-expanding gaps. I quickly worked up a sweat leapfrogging from group to group, but still the front was nowhere in sight. A crash happened not too far in front of me, but I made my way past it safely.

Finally, I saw Dave in his Lemonhead kit. I said hello, and he told me he was going to pace himself in this group and that Peter was in another group somewhere up ahead. I moved up a few more groups and finally caught up to Peter in what looked like the front group. We cruised along at a high pace for many miles, and I was able to recover in the draft even when averaging around 25mph. If you care about your elapsed time on course, then you do not want to miss this mass start!

Eventually the road turned up, but soon after the climbing started, I had to take the first of many pee breaks. I was only an hour into the ride, but I ended up having to stop about once every hour to take a leak, which really killed my average speed.

I didn't know the details of the individual climbs, and I don't really recall them now. I only knew from looking at somebody's Strava ride profile that most of the climbing would be over by mile 86. Not knowing the length of each climb makes it hard to pace yourself for a strong finish, but I figured I just needed to make it to mile 86, and then I could limp home if necessary. That was comforting, since I knew I was falling behind on my calorie intake. There wasn't a lot of packable food at the rest stops, but the volunteers were super friendly and happily held bikes and filled bottles for you.

I couldn't even use my roadside pee stops to take pictures. It turns out scenic spots are often poor places for urinating discreetly. Unfortunate, because there are two scenic reservoirs on the way up, Shaver Lake and Huntington Lake. I tried to take some photos while riding, but between the camera lag on my crappy phone and the not-infrequent car traffic, results were not impressive. These were taken with the camera aimed behind me.

Too much tilt here:

Overcorrection:

Finally, close to level, but the moment has passed. Lovely parking lot, no?

I did come to a full stop to take one picture, of the reservoir wall. That immense, obviously man-made wall is kind of jarring in an otherwise very rustic setting, like a set piece for a camping episode of the Truman Show.

The wall from the other side.

We were pretty high in the mountains by now, and with increased altitude came diminished power output. On the steep part of the long Big Creek climb, my 34-28 low gear didn't feel low enough, and my energy level slowly withered under the hot sun. The temperature was a few degrees cooler than usual, but it still felt too hot to be doing this! My bike also started making a mystery creaking sound with every turn of the crank, which only added to the mental torture.

At the lunch stop, I drank a Mountain Dew and ate the innards of a turkey sandwich and two bags of Doritos. I knew I should take in more calories, but I didn't have the appetite. One of the rest stop workers gave me a pack of lemon SportBeans from her secret stash. I saved those for later, and they were delicious! The lunch stop was next to the lake, tempting me to ride past that kayak straight into the water.

On to Kaiser Pass. The last few miles of the climb to the ride's max elevation point featured painfully steep grades, narrow gravel-dusted pavement, a surprising amount of car traffic, and not nearly enough shade from the burning sun. I couldn't help but curse out loud as I mashed my way up that nasty road. My heartrate rose while my wattage remained resolutely low. In the last 500 meters of the climb, I got dropped by a self-proclaimed 205lb crit racer. Just perfect. But, the sound of cowbells hinted at the finish, and finally I was there.

It was a big relief to be at mile 86. I still wasn't hungry, but I forced myself to down more soda and chips, along with one of the JackLinks beef sticks I'd brought in my pockets. As I sipped Mountain Dew, I took stock of my condition. Every touch point with the bike was now officially in agony: feet, palms, and sitbones most of all. This was unexpected, since I did a 146-mile ride a while ago with the identical bike setup without this kind of discomfort. I guess having so much climbing front-loaded into the first 86 miles made a huge difference. My bike seemed to be fatiguing too: that mystery clicking noise was getting worse and worse, but I couldn't divine its origin.

Time to head back down the way we came. After the narrow, gravelly, bumpy section, the descent was smooth and fast. I cruised at 40+ for as long as my back and neck could hold a tuck. A car actually pulled over on a straightaway to let me pass. Smooth sailing, until -- what's this? More climbing? @#$&*!!! I entered survival mode at this point, seemingly unable to climb faster than crawling pace.

Finally, rest stop #8. One of the workers offered a massage. I considered taking the time for a massage versus getting the ride over sooner rather than later, and decided on getting this over with sooner rather than later. The workers were congratulating the riders here, so there must not be much climbing after this. Indeed, lots of descending was in store. But, of course there were still small rollers to scale now and then. The sight of each one was incredibly disheartening. I paired up with another rider on the descent, so I could sit up on the hoods in his draft and give my back and neck some rest. The pavement was smooth and the corners gentle. You could easily hold ludicrous speed here, but my back and neck were just too sore to tuck. Instead, I did my best imitation of a box truck for many miles of downhill.

My companion and I hooked up with a third rider, who pulled strongly as the road started to flatten. I was happy to sit on for a while. Later, a big group joined us, and eventually we started an awkward rotation. My sitbones felt chafed raw by now, and all I could think of was finishing the ride and getting the heck off the bike. I tried to bring the speed up during my turns at the front, but the pace overall was pretty uneven. Still, it was better to cover that last stretch in a group than solo, which is how I rode it at the end of the Bass Lake double last fall. I wasn't the only one feeling exhausted. Our group started to splinter as we got within 10 miles of town.

Finally, we returned to civilization. I got confused about which school to go to and peeled off from the remnants of our group too early, which prolonged my agony on the bike an extra five minutes. After consulting Google Maps on my phone, I found the finish, checked in, and took a long cold shower, thankful for the towel that Dave was kind enough to loan me the night before. A cold shower wouldn't have been my first choice, but if there were temperature controls, I couldn't find them, and I think the cold treatment helped keep my muscles from getting as sore as they might have otherwise.

Since I didn't know where Dave and Peter were, and I was too tired to go anywhere, I decided to forgo the wonderful ribs at QN4U and just eat the post-ride meal at the school and see if Dave or Peter showed up. After about an hour though, I figured I'd better start the drive home before all that Mountain Dew wore off.

In the end, I was on the course for just under 11 hours total time, an hour of which was spent at rest stops or peeing on the side of the road. The fastest riders finished in a little over 8.25 hours total time, which is quite impressive. This wasn't the longest ride I've done, but it just might be the most painful! I'm glad to have done it, but I'm not sure I'd want to do it again. I thought I might ride more slowly and enjoy the scenery, but my sitbones were screaming at me to get off the bike asap. Better training would probably help, but it's hard to imagine enjoying this ride when the weather is even hotter like it usually is.

Equipment notes: Even the 34-28 didn't feel low enough for the steepest parts, so I'm thankful I took the time to swap out the 11-26 cassette. My very light NoTubes wheels are still out of commission, so I rode on heavier Ksyrium ES wheels, also with tubeless tires. They were fine, but lighter would be better with all that climbing. I think the mystery creak is coming from my pedals, but I'm not sure. Several times during the ride, I thought it would be nice to have a helmet cam to take video and photos hands-free without losing any time.

Nutrition notes: I brought one pack of ShotBloks, two CLIF bars, and three beef sticks. I couldn't eat the second CLIF bar and wished I'd brought more ShotBloks instead. I tried SportBeans for the first time, and I liked them a lot. For hydration, I started out with two bottles of plain water, but I knew I was getting behind on calories, so I started adding a little Gatorade to one bottle. The diluted mix seemed to be okay for my stomach, so I might try that earlier on the next long ride I do. One pee stop per hour is excessive, so I can probably drink less without worrying about dehydration. For solid food, I stuck to corn chips, melon, soda and an occasional Fig Newton at the rest stops, which sounds like a terrible combination, but my stomach didn't seem to mind.

Brakes: Ten Cent Failure

2011-10-23T20:45:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen the innards of a brake cable before, you may find these photos interesting. The cable housing has to act like a rigid tube, against which the brake lever braces itself to pull the cable and tighten the brake calipers down at the other end of the cable. If the cable housing compresses, then pulling the brake lever will just shorten the cable housing instead of moving the end of the cable toward the lever and pulling the calipers together.

Obviously, the cable housing can't be completely rigid, or it wouldn't be able to bend around the handlebars and frame. To provide that flexibility while still resisting compression in the lengthwise direction, the housing is made up of wires running parallel to the brake cable. Those are the little wires you see sticking out the end of the housing in the photos, around the comparatively larger (and shinier) brake cable itself.

This is a bit of an oversimplification, but essentially those wires are then encased inside a steel spiral; picture a steel version of a handset cord on an old telephone, if you're old enough to remember those phones. All of that is then covered with the outside plastic layer. The metal spiral layer prevents the lengthwise wires inside from bursting outwards anywhere along the length of the housing. To keep the ends of the wires from poking out the cut ends of the housing, the housing ends are covered with metal endcaps that have a hole only big enough to allow the brake cable itself to pass through it. Now you have a flexible housing that cannot be compressed lengthwise. (Like I mentioned, this is the basic concept; in reality, cables have other layers to reduce friction and increase compression resistance, and there are other cable systems like Nokons that do away with the wires completely, stringing together rigid beads around the cable instead to provide an incompressible housing.)

There is a lot of pressure applied to the cable housing, and the ends of that wire bundle push against the end cap pretty hard. In this case, hard enough to wear away the metal and widen the hole over time so that it was big enough not only for the brake cable to pass through, but also for the housing wires to start poking through. Luckily, I had a couple spare end caps, so I just pulled the cable out, snipped off the ends of the cable housing, and put new end caps on.

When enough of those wires poke through, you no longer have compression resistance, which means you no longer have braking power. Luckily this was the rear brake, and it doesn't take much lever force to reach max braking force anyway, since most weight is forward when braking. (This is why I didn't bother replacing the entire housing. The wires that hadn't poked through the end of the housing still provide enough compression resistance for max rear braking.) But, after this discovery, you can be certain I inspected the front brake to make sure the end cap was good. You don't want brake failure up front, especially the kind that can be avoided by replacing a ten cent part!

2011 Bass Lake Powerhouse Double Century

2011-10-09T20:01:00.001-07:00

Number Three
My third and final double for the year. Possibly forever. Mild weather was in the forecast again -- three for three! I'd get to complete a California Triple Crown without any rain. I don't mind climbing in the rain, but descending in the rain quickly makes me hypothermic.

This was my first visit to the Fresno area. The start/finish is in Clovis, slightly northeast of Fresno. The motel was flea-free and quite pleasant. Most importantly, it was down the street from the best barbecue place I've ever visited. Since I had a long ride the next day, I only ordered a half-rack of ribs. Fall-off-the-bone, melt-in-your-mouth delicious!

The place is called QN4U. I think I know what the name means:
"[BB]Q'ing For You." Why does it look like a license plate, though? Well, name aside, it means I have a reason to visit Clovis again, as far away as it is. They do have this serious-looking mobile bbq station, so maybe I'll see them catering an event closer than Clovis.

Cold Morning
This ride has a timed start, at 5:15am. Which I nearly missed because I was taking a leak. I caught the tail-end of the group of 30 or so rolling out in the chilly darkness. I didn't know the route, and there were quite a few turns in the first part of the ride, so I was counting on the folks in front to lead the way.

Two younger guys were doing most of the pulling. Nobody else seemed keen on being up there very long, so I started to trade pulls with them to keep the pace high, asking them to call out turns for me when I was on the front. The sky gradually lightened, revealing a somewhat ghostly layer of fog near the ground. My knees felt tight and stiff from the cold. I made a note to buy some knee warmers in the near future. Perhaps due to the chilly temperatures, it wasn't long before I had to pee. We were still many miles from the first rest stop, of course.

Approaching the first rest stop, around mile 35, the three of us were still in front. I started to slow down, but I saw that the other two were going to skip the stop and keep riding. I considered going with them for a split second since we were moving at such a good pace, but I knew I couldn't hold it for another 35-plus miles and turned in to heed the call of nature. Foiled by my bladder.

Bonus Miles
I rode by myself for a while, then briefly traded pulls with a Fresno local who knew the route pretty well. We weren't going any faster than I would have on my own, but at least I could save some energy. The sky was light now, but it was still chilly, and I soon had to pee again. My companion went on ahead while I stopped to take another leak at the side of the road. After that, I motored down the farm roads alone, looking for spraypainted arrows on the road to indicate the next turn.

After traveling down one road for quite some time without seeing anybody else, I stopped at an intersection to check the route sheet. Where the heck was I? The GPS on my phone was malfunctioning, telling me I was in a metropolitan area instead of in the boonies. I spent several minutes trying to locate myself by scrolling around on my phone's map to no avail, then got on the bike and backtracked until I saw the turn I had missed.

My odometer showed I'd gone an extra 6 miles. At 20mph, that's 3 miles per minute, so an extra 18 minutes, plus the 5 or so minutes I'd spent fiddling with my phone. 23 minutes behind now, in addition to the time I spent at the first rest stop and my roadside pee stop. It all added up to an eternity. There was no way I could catch those two fast guys now -- damn bladder!

Photo Opportunities

I figured my chances of a 12 hour day were completely shot, so I took the time to snap some photos of the many canals in the area, which were quite striking in the early morning light.

As I discovered, this route is anchored by water features. The eponymous Bass Lake, which I'd never heard of, is up north in Sierra National Forest.

Water flowing down from those hills powers at least one hydroelectric power station along the route, on the eponymous Powerhouse Road.

I didn't see any dramatic dams or waterfalls, which is what I usually associate with hydroelectric power. The area was actually quite peaceful.

Powerhouse
I took the picture above while moving slowly, but I still got that weird slanting artifact that seems to plague motion shots on phone cameras. The powerhouse marks the end of a sub-4-mile descent (the length of which I noted for the return trip) and the start of a long-ass climb into the mountains. Eventually the route reaches Bass Lake, circling it counterclockwise before returning to the same road for the trip back south.

Bass Lake
This is a crappy picture of Bass Lake, taken while bouncing along the crappily paved Road 222 circling the lake. There's a more developed stretch of the shore with docks and lodges and such further down, but also more potholes on the road, so I didn't risk taking better photos later.

Seems like a nice place to visit, though I was happy to leave on this day and start my way back down to Clovis. I knew I had that 4-mile climb after the powerhouse, but that was the longest uphill stretch remaining by far. I did the rest of the ride alone, keeping a steady pace that would get me back before dark. At the finish, I was a little under 12 hours of riding time and a little over 13 hours total time.

Aches and Pains
My left knee has been a bit sore since I did Knoxville with the 11-23t cassette. I injured my medial collateral ligament (MCL tear) a few years ago, and that ride seems to have aggravated it. Luckily I had my 11-28t cassette this day, and I spent a lot of time spinning in the 25 and 28 cogs on the climbs to take it easy on my knee. Both kneecaps also became very sore in the second half of the ride, like I was using too much quads and not enough glutes. This was a little puzzling since my bike fit is unchanged from Devil Mountain and Knoxville, and I don't recall kneecap soreness on either of those rides.

Compounding the knee problems were my screaming sitbones, which didn't like it when I tried to spin an easier gear. I guess I need longer rides during the week to maintain saddle-readiness. I'd only ridden to work twice in the week before Bass Lake, and I was ready to be off the saddle on Saturday after only a few hours. Of course, I still had 8+ hours left to go at that point.

I think all this just means I'm ready for some solid recovery time. I'm looking forward to easy spins to and from work while the knees heal.

Equipment Notes
Most cyclists abhor rattles and squeaks. During a 13-hour ride, they're torture. I noticed a new rattle, which I eventually traced to the seat tube water bottle cage. My System Six has a carbon down tube and aluminum seat tube. (It's a 2007 frame with a lot of miles on it.) Perhaps the aluminum section vibrates more, because the riveted water bottle cage fittings had become loose there, while the down tube fittings were fine. Luckily it was an easy fix. Just not an easy on-the-road fix, so I had to endure the cage rattling for most of the 206 miles.

The Bass Lake route is kind of interesting in how bunched together the climbing and descending are. The first 70 miles are quite flat. While I was glad to have the 25 and 28 cogs on the climbs, I sorely missed having the 16 cog in the long flat sections. If I do this ride again, I might make a Frankencassette with the 28-25-22 cluster for the climbs and the 16 cog for the flats, at the expense of the 11 cog in the downhills. (SRAM actually makes a 12-28 cassette, though they use a 28-24-21 cluster instead of a 28-25-22 for some reason.)

One strange problem which I also experienced on Knoxville: when dropping from the 50 chainring to the 34, the master link got stuck on a tooth of the larger ring and kept the chain from moving completely to the smaller ring. I thought it was a freak occurrence at Knoxville, but it happened again on Bass Lake. At Knoxville, I had to dismount and pull the stuck link off by hand. This time, I was able to push the stuck link off with my toe after several tries while circling slowly at the base of a steep climb. Both times, I was completely alone. If this ever happens in a pack riding situation, I'm hosed: bye-bye, pack!

The final quirk of the day: my heartrate strap wouldn't transmit until 3.5 hours into the ride. I thought the battery was dead, but hours later the Garmin picked up a signal, which continued for the rest of the ride. It's probably time to change the battery.

Nutrition Notes
I went with plain water in the bottles again and tried to eat more Shotbloks during the ride. The sweetness got to be nauseating eventually. At the rest stops, I settled on a routine of soda and potato chips. I had some mild gas in the middle of the day, which abated after I eased up on the Shotbloks. On the bike, I also had Welch's fruit snacks, which have a nice tartness to them compared to the Shotbloks, and most of a box of raisins.

For lunch, I had two Mountain Dews, potato chips and a cold cut sandwich (minus the bread). I've already mentioned that I had to take far too many pee breaks in the first half of the day. The second half was better. I was ready to wolf down a bunch of the meat skewers that were at the last rest stop, but I got there too early: they hadn't been grilled yet!

There were a couple pasta-with-meat dishes at the finish, but I wasn't hungry for pasta. I ate what I could stomach at the finish and bought two gas station hot dogs on the drive home. Pretty gross, but also pretty close to what I was actually craving, which was fried breakfast sausage patties. I try to listen to my stomach, and my stomach was calling loudly for salt, fat and protein. When I got home, I found three pieces of leftover bacon in the fridge that really hit the spot. I'm still a little shocked by how much junkfood I eat and drink on these rides. Chugging two Mountain Dews back to back on any other occasion would probably give me a heart attack. But on a 7,000+ calorie ride, they hardly make a dent.

Quick Repair: Rattling Water Bottle Fittings

2011-10-09T19:36:00.000-07:00

I noticed over the weekend that one of my water bottle cages was rattling. I thought I just needed to tighten the bolts holding the cage to the frame, but it turned out that the fittings themselves were loose in the frame.

These things are basically riveted in the frame, so I didn't know whether or how easily they could be tightened. But after I did a quick search on Google, I discovered that the fix is quite simple. Park Tools has a great how-to; all you need is a front hub and skewer, and you have a makeshift water bottle fitting tightener. If only all rattles were this easy to banish!

2011 Levi's King Ridge Gran Fondo

2011-10-02T10:09:00.000-07:00

What's a Gran Fondo?
One HUGE ride. Think Death Ride has a lot of riders at 3,000? That pales in comparison to the 7,500 of this year's Levi's Gran Fondo. Levi Leipheimer lives in Santa Rosa (at least sometimes) and started his charity ride in 2009, importing the gran fondo format from Italy to his backyard. Here's a write-up on Italian gran fondos I found online. As I discovered when I pinned a timing chip number plate to my bike, Levi's ride is a timed event, even though it's not actually a race. With thousands of riders staging for a mass start, it could be 30 minutes or more before the back of the pack crosses the starting line, so the ride features fancy chip timing. The sheer size of the ride was a little off-putting when I considered registering, but I signed up with my buddies Mark and Rick, who are skilled veterans at this sort of ride.

Friday Night
The three of us carpooled up in the afternoon. We picked up our numbers and swag bags at the Finley Center, then went looking for dinner. I noticed in the car that my swag t-shirt had a bunch of missing stitches, but I was too hungry to go exchange it. After a couple false starts, we ended up at a place called La Texanita. It looked like quite the dive, but it was delicious! Scott and Peter joined us there, and we had a fun dinner with plenty of bs'ing. Guy Fieri approves.

After dinner, we picked up some bananas and Muscle Milk for next morning's breakfast at the mercado across the parking lot, then checked into our fine accomodations at Motel 6.

I'm not a pet owner, and I've been lucky to have never encountered fleas for the first 39 years of my life. Of course, the first time had to be a doozy. As I sat in bed pinning my number on my jersey, I felt an itch on my leg. I saw a little black bug that surprised me by jumping away quickly when I tried to squash it. I managed to catch it and look at it under the lamp. Kind of triangular shaped, wingless, and hard to crush. "That must have been a flea -- hmm, kind of nasty! But wait, my leg is still itching..." There's no such thing as just one flea. The room turned out to be infested, and they were treating my legs like matching all-you-can-eat buffet lines. With some difficulty, I got a different room, without fleas. I managed to get some sleep despite a bad case of the heebie-jeebies.

Saturday Morning
I'm getting used to waking up way too early. We loaded the car and rolled out, arriving early enough to park on a nearby side street. It was chilly, but I decided to go with just arm warmers. We rode to the start and staged right behind the VIP section an hour before the start.

This was the longest I've ever staged for an event. I passed the time by watching the VIP section fill up with fence jumpers.

As crowded as it had become in front of us, it was nothing compared to the throng behind.

Finally, we rolled out at 8:05.

Aggro Charity Riders - Whuh?
I haven't done any racing this season, and the pack riding in the first flat section was quite a shock to the system. Mark and Rick looked comfortable surfing near the front, and I wanted to keep them in sight, which meant not simply drifting backward through all that humanity. I actually saw some jaw-dropping, crazy elbowing for position going on, in a charity ride -- really, guys?

Finally the climbing started, and the pack lined out and separated into real climbers and everybody else. I'm one of the latter, and I didn't expect I'd ever be happy to see the start of a climb. But with that crazy mass start behind us, this was starting to be a fun ride. In between the climbs, the pace was quick, and I found myself in a group of 20 or so.

Cold, and Colder
Most of the people in our group didn't stop until mile 41. I finally got to take a leak. It was overcast and chilly, so I headed out before Mark and Rick in an attempt to get warm, taking it easy on the steep and wet descent. Outside of one of the tighter corners, I saw an ambulance and a rider getting some road rash bandaged up. Then the road went up again, and I enjoyed the opportunity to climb slowly and warm up. Mark and Rick caught up to me on the climb, and we continued on together.

I thought that rest stop was cold, but the lunch stop near mile 55 was worse. Cold, windy and wet. My arm warmers weren't nearly enough to keep me from shivering. Some of us stood inside the food tent, hiding from the wind and eating lunch. Levi came by to say hi to the volunteers. He was all the way down the line by the time I got my phone out to snap this shot with my frosty fingers.

Even in the tent, it was uncomfortably cold, so we soon got on the bikes to start the descent to the coast. That was really bone-chilling. I got the sense that the descent would be really fun and fast in better weather, but it was a relief to reach the end of it today and drop down into warmer weather by the coast. There were a lot of cars on Highway 1, and we made our way down Highway 1 at kind of a leisurely pace.

Coleman Valley Climb
There's a rest stop near the end of the stretch on Hwy 1, and we stopped for a quick nature break. It turned out to be great timing, as Levi was nearby.

We headed out before Levi to start the steep climb up Coleman. We stopped near the bottom to fiddle with Rick's rear derailleur, and he ended up moving the chain by hand to the largest cog for a steady grind up.
As we neared the end of the steep section, Levi's motorcade started going by, so we knew he was getting close, and not long after the steepest stuff was over, Levi and his fellow pro and teammate Jason McCartney passed us. Rick and I latched onto their wheels. They were taking it easy and chatting with each other, while Rick and I were grimly holding on. Levi and JMac had encouraging words for every rider they passed, which was cool. There was a photographer on a moto in front of us shooting Levi and JMac most of this time, so Rick and I may end up in some of the official event photos. At the next rest stop, the pros rolled in, and Rick and I rode on.

Last 20 Miles
I was pretty tired by now! There were some rollers and short climbs, and then a long flat section. Rick went to the front and started pulling like an express train with something like 30 riders behind us. He actually rode everybody off his wheel a couple times. The second time, we stopped at a light, and the group latched on again, but it wouldn't have made a difference if we'd made the light and lost the train: nobody else would take a pull! So, it was just the two of us trading pulls and towing the rest to the finish. Right before the finish, a couple riders started to go off the front, until Rick remarked that neither of them had pulled for the last 15 miles. I think that shamed them into easing up and crossing the line with the rest of our group. I'd forgotten all about the event timing, but I guess those guys hadn't -- too funny!

Finish Area
This was a very nice festival atmosphere. There was bike valet parking, lots of beer, plenty of food vendors, and more.

I opted for maximum protein and fat.

There were also showers available somewhere, but we hadn't planned ahead and didn't take advantage of that. Something to note for next year, though. We met Mark at the car, got on the road and had a quick meal at In-N-Out. I was completely exhausted, but happy to have done the ride!

Equipment Notes
I used the NoTubes wheels again, with lower pressure this time. The descents were slick, so I took the corners too slowly to get any sort of feel for how they corner, but the ride was very cushy on the flats all day long. There were cattleguards in a couple low speed sections, and I felt like I was riding a beach cruiser over them.

I was almost too lazy to put the 11-28t cassette on, but I swapped it for the 11-23 late Thursday night. I'm very thankful I did, too. There were some long steep stretches where it was nice to spend time in the 34/28 combination. Though the route has only 7,000 feet of climbing, much of that climbing is back-to-back and steep, and the pace on this ride is pretty high.

I replaced a bent derailleur hanger earlier in the week and had perfect shifting all day long. Being on a quiet, well-tuned bike really contributes to the pleasure of a ride!

Nutrition Notes
Since there was no microwave at Motel 6,000 Fleas, I didn't have my usual oatmeal, raisins and milk for breakfast. Instead, I ate two bananas and drank most of a Muscle Milk. That stuff is pretty gross, but it didn't cause me any stomach problems.

On the bike, I went with plain water in the bottles again and didn't have any gas problems. I brought two Shotblok packs, but that wasn't enough. I should have eaten both of them by the first rest stop, but I only had one, which put me behind on calories early in the ride.

For lunch, I had a roast beef sandwich (minus the bread), potato chips and a can of Coke. After that, I just ate a mini Clif bar and my remaining Shotbloks, but that definitely wasn't enough calories for the day. I felt really hungry by the last part of the ride, especially when trading pulls with Rick.

I'm going to pack more Shotbloks and try to average closer to 200 calories per hour for the next long ride. I'll stick to plain water and see if I can get 200 calories per hour from solid foods.

I had to pee pretty badly a couple times during the ride, but I was able to hold it for many miles until the next group rest stop. Three pee breaks total for the day -- not terrible over a 6-hour stretch, but it seems a little high. Maybe the cold weather contributed. (I know: what a weird thing to count!)

2011 Knoxville Fall Classic Double Century

2011-09-25T19:16:00.000-07:00

Jumping into the Deep End
I haven't been doing any serious riding since pulling something in my hip in late July. I have been bike commuting, but that's less than an hour each way, so I wasn't sure if making the jump from that to 12+ hours on the bike was a good idea. But, I am still hoping to complete the Triple Crown this year, and I'm running out of nearby double centuries. And, the Knoxville Double has only 12,000 feet of climbing, compared to 20,000 for the Devil Mountain Double I did back in April. Finally, it would be another chance to work on my long ride nutrition approach on a supported ride, so I registered at the last minute and was happy to get my confirmation email.

The Ride Plan
My pacing plan was to stick to what I used to think of as my "all day" pace, ~200 watts and 150bpm, for as long as possible. That's pretty much what I did for DMD, and I expected Knoxville to be a couple hours shorter. For nutrition, the experiment would be plain water in my bottles instead of HEED or the like, to see if maltodextrin was the cause of the terrible gas that plagued me on DMD and Death Ride. For pocket food, I packed lightly: some Shotbloks, one Clif bar, and the last of my SlimJims. (I like the SlimJim's combination of salt, even more salt, fat and protein, but I discovered they contain trans fat, so I won't be buying any more.) Quackcyclists are the folks behind both DMD and Knoxville, so I knew the rest stops would have a good mix of food. I only made it halfway through the Clif bar, though I finished everything else.

A Balmy Morning
Friday night, I ate around 6pm and went to bed at 8pm, so I felt pretty good when I got up at 3:45 Saturday morning. I had my usual bowl of oatmeal, my regular morning routine stayed regular, and I was comfortably on the bike just after 5am. The morning was surprisingly warm, and I was happy I could leave the windbreaker and legwarmers in the car instead of wearing them for an hour and lugging them in my pockets the rest of the day.

Unlike DMD, Knoxville is not timed. Instead of a mass start, you roll out whenever you like. Death Ride isn't timed either, but with thousands of riders, that ride is essentially a morning-long mass start. In contrast, Knoxville only has a couple hundred riders, so there isn't a long river of headlights and flashing blinkies moving down the road together before dawn. Instead, riders leave intermittently, in most cases alone or with one or two companions. I was glad I'd brought the Niterider light instead of using the much smaller and lighter Flea, which I had considered doing under the assumption I'd be in a brightly lit paceline for the pre-dawn part of the ride.

The First Century
Shortly after I rolled out, another rider passed me. I sped up to match his pace, staying a couple bike lengths behind but close enough to benefit a little from his lighting. At the next turn, he drew up alongside and introduced himself, and we ended up riding together for the next 90 miles. John was a great riding companion, and strong -- he's done the Furnace Creek 508 solo race, twice. We rode side by side chatting much of the time, even after the sun rose, pacelining occasionally on some flatter and straighter parts. As the sky grew lighter, we were treated to picturesque views of rolling vineyards in Napa Valley. According to my now-visible Garmin display, my pace was higher than I'd planned, but I didn't mind. I was feeling good and happy to be riding somewhere other than to the office. Approaching the first rest stop, we saw several hot air balloons in the early morning sky above the vineyards.

Sometime after that stop, we picked up a third rider, and then a fourth, and we stayed together most of the time until near the water stop at mile 94. Once there, I filled up my bottles with ice water and set them down to grab a can of Coke. After chugging the Coke, John and I rolled out together. A few minutes later, I reached down to take a swig from my water bottle and felt... nothing. $%!#!!! I'd left my bottles on the table at the rest stop. Telling John to go ahead, I turned to retrieve my bottles and ended up riding by myself for the next 90 miles.

Lunch Stop
By the lunch stop at mile 109, my lower back was screaming, and it was a relief to get off the bike and stand up straight. I saw my friend and former teammate Bill leaving just as I arrived. He said I might see him up the road again later because he was taking it easy. I knew that was true, or I wouldn't even have seen him at lunch. Bill won the Triple Crown Stage Race a couple years ago; if he wants to hammer a double century, there aren't many people who can keep him company. John was at the lunch stop too, but he decided to head out soon after I arrived for fear that his legs would cramp up if he stayed still for too long.

After lunch, I took the time to visit the restroom. I'd started experiencing a little bit of gas at 10am. The problem was that the gas felt like it might be rooming with some solids, too. Alas, I lost no weight in the stall, only time.

I was about to leave the lunch stop when a passing volunteer encouraged me to get a 30-second massage before leaving. I got off the bike and got on Kathryn's massage table. I told her my lower back was killing me, and she went to work.
Magic fingers. My greatest accomplishment that day was getting off that table, because I could have stayed there for hours. Instead, summoning some deep reserve of willpower I didn't know existed, I peeled myself from the table five minutes later to embark on the second half of the ride. I brought her flyer home so I could take this crappy picture and give her a small plug.

The Second Century
It was downright hot, and not only did my lower back start screaming again, but soon it was joined by a chorus of sore sitbones, neck, hands and feet. I didn't have my 28t low gear, and there was a lot of slow mashing uphill under the blazing sun. I had to paperboy it on some of the steeper sections when my legs needed to take a break before the grade did. The longer climbs weren't as bad as the rollers, though. It seemed like there were rollers all day long. Every time I saw the road go up, my spirits sank. The wind also picked up, sometimes a welcome tailwind, but often a demoralizing headwind or crosswind. My lower back was in agony, and at times the pain was so intense that I had to stop pedaling and stretch my back as much as I could without actually getting off the bike, even at the cost of losing most of my forward momentum if it was in the middle of a climb or into a headwind. The perceived effort required to stay at my "all day" heartrate was too high, and I spent much of the time at 140bpm instead of 150bpm. The lower heartrate yielded lower power numbers, of course, but I felt like I would be burying myself to hold 150bpm. It occurred to me often during this stretch that I was not having fun.

A Little Help From my Friends
Not far from the last rest stop at mile 189, there was a nice gradual downhill with smooth pavement and a tailwind. I was motoring now, energized by the cooler temperature, the higher speed and the sense of turning the odometer rapidly. I came upon Bill leading a couple of his friends, and he latched on behind me. I pulled a while longer and swapped places with Bill, who continued the brisk pacesetting. As we got closer to the rest stop, I asked Bill if he planned to stop and was happy to hear that he did, and when we arrived, I was surprised and happy to see my buddy John from the morning. It was great to have fast company for the final stretch home.

The last 13 miles were downhill on average, but that was the average. There were still little rises every so often, and I cursed every one of them aloud. There was also a crosswind or headwind for much of it, and I was thankful to trade pulls with my companions. Finally, I saw I-80 up ahead and knew we were back at the start/finish. I don't remember the last time I've been so relieved to see a freeway. Nearly 13.5 hours and a giant figure-eight later, I was back where I'd started. The published distance is 202.4, but I ended up with a few more on the Garmin, probably due to the forgotten water bottle incident and a missed turn before the lunch stop. The Garmin also recorded over 13,000 feet of climbing for the day. Regardless of the final stats, however, this was undeniably a hard, hard ride. On a 200-mile day, the concept of "only 12,000 feet of climbing" is a lot like "only three kicks to the groin."

Here we are at the finish.

Equipment Notes
I think I bent my derailleur hanger slightly last Monday when my rear derailleur fell apart. I didn't notice anything amiss on the commute Thursday after installing a new derailleur, but I didn't pedal hard that day, either. I'm guessing that the first out-of-the-saddle climb Saturday morning bent the weakened hanger even more, and I had lousy shifting and incessant drivetrain noise the rest of the day. That really sucked.

On the brighter side, this was my first long ride on the Alpha 340 Pro wheelset I bought off eBay a few weeks ago, on which I'm running tubeless Fusion 3's with sealant. The lower tire pressures do seem to take a little of the edge off the bumps, but it wasn't as dramatic a difference as I'd hoped. Conti GP4000s with tubes at 85/95psi (on my floorpump's gauge) are a much plusher ride, and they rail the corners, too. I'll try dropping the pressure some more in the NoTubes wheels. They seem to corner well enough, though I did take it easy since I was unfamiliar with both the route and the wheels. I'm looking forward to trying them on more familiar descents to see how they compare to my old wheel/tire combination.

Instead of the 11-28t cassette, I left on the "daily driver" 11-23. That's what I'd used on Sequoia Century, which had a similar amount of climbing, and it turned out to be okay for Knoxville too, though it did mean some stretches of very low cadence mashing during the hottest part of the day.

Nutrition Notes
Last but not least, from a nutrition perspective, the ride was pretty good. Drinking only plain water in my bottles, I avoided most of the gas I experienced with HEED in the bottles on my previous rides. I probably got a little behind on my calories during the early part of the day, but later I found a rhythm of drinking a soda and eating some snack at each rest stop, and then forcing myself to eat something else on the bike an hour after leaving a rest stop.

Sodas are 150-160 calories each, and the snack probably brought the total to 200-250 calories for the stop, which meant I should have been eating another 150-200 calories on the bike in between the stops. I probably fell short of that because I had little appetite on the bike and couldn't eat more than a couple Shotbloks or a packet of Welch's Fruit Chews.

One problem with the rest stop soda strategy is that it requires staying at the stop long enough to finish a soda. I don't have a good place to put a soda can on the bike and probably would spill most of it trying to drink while riding anyway. So, those extra soda-drinking minutes will really add up over an entire day. My next experiment might be to try a smaller amount of HEED in the bottles to see if I can get ~50 calories per hour from drinking on the bike. We'll see if I was taking in more HEED than I could absorb in the past, or whether I simply can't handle any amount of maltodextrin.

Offsetting the time increase from soda minutes was a decrease in time spent peeing. I only had to go three times during the entire day, and I was able to wait for a rest stop each time. One possible explanation is the plain water versus HEED. Another is the warmer temperature at the start, which could lead to more sweat loss. Anyway, it was nice not having to stop every single hour to take a leak.

I also tried Endurolyte tablets for the first time, one at each of the first three rest stops. I had some cramping I hadn't experienced before as we approached the first rest stop, so I thought I'd give them a try since the rest stop didn't have any salt shakers. (Salted watermelon slices are great!) The cramping didn't return, but who knows if the tablets made the difference. I figured one tablet every couple hours would be cheap insurance against further cramping, and they didn't seem to have any ill effects.

Strange rear derailleur failure

2011-09-19T20:06:00.000-07:00

I was riding home this evening when the rear derailleur cage simply fell off during a shift from the 19 cog to the 17.

Luckily I was on flat ground, going straight and not pedaling hard. I was able to stop the bike before the cage swung into the spokes. The derailleur survived a season of crash-filled Cat 4 crits a few summers ago but hasn't suffered any impacts since, so the failure doesn't seem due to acute trauma. Rather, that little flange at the top of the axle looks like it just gave out.

Whenever I hear about a rear derailleur failure, it's either from a problem with a bent or broken hanger or from a misadjusted lower limit screw that lets the cage get too close to the spokes (which isn't really a derailleur failure at all). My case seems to be the result of normal wear and tear. I don't know how long this stuff is supposed to last, but I've probably put over 25,000 miles on the derailleur in the past 3.5 years, so I feel like I can't be too upset. And, it happened a mile and a half into my commute rather than halfway through a double century -- no small favor. But, it does make me worry whether the shifters are going to fail anytime soon, since those are as old as the derailleur.

2010 Jamis Xenith T2 Build, part 6 - more on brakes.

2011-09-16T18:52:00.000-07:00

Before cutting the brake and shifter cables to their final length, I rode past the driveway repeatedly and had my kids take pictures. Of course, they spent most of that time goofing around and taking pictures of each other's butts, so by the time the memory card was full, I had exactly three useful pictures to check my position in the aerobars. Good enough.

Setting up the rear brake cable is a little tricky, like nearly everything else about the brakes, so I didn't connect the rear brake until after I had checked my fit. The total length of cable housing is very important: too much housing at the caliper end will result in the metal cable noodle sticking out to the side and interfering with the left crank arm's rotation. And, you have to decide at the same time on the length of housing you want exposed both at the handlebars and down by the bottom bracket, since it's one continuous piece of housing running from brake lever through the entire length of the internal frame routing all the way to the caliper noodle. After cutting the housing to the correct length, you'll still need to use a ziptie at the bottom bracket to keep the noodle out of the way. This is where that half-in, half-out ferrule from the rear brake cable housing actually comes in handy, as it provides a solid attachment point for the ziptie. (You can see a strip of black tape I put on the BB shell, just in case the barrel adjuster on the noodle rubs against the frame.)

With the housing set up, it's time for the actual cable. Any excess cable will run into the crank, so you can't simply leave a couple inches of extra cable running past the pinch bolt like you typically would. Instead, I held the cable next to the caliper arms and eyeballed the length of cable needed to just reach the end of the pinch bolt while I squeezed the calipers together with one hand. (A third-hand tool would make this job easier.) After cutting the cable at that spot, I fed it through the calipers and and tightened the pinch bolt, again while holding the calipers closed with my hand, so that the end of the cable stops flush at the edge of the pinch bolt. Be sure to put the barrel adjuster in the middle of its range first, so you can fine tune the distance from the brake shoes to the rim after you've tightened the pinch bolt. The pinch bolt, at the bottom of the photo below, also acts as an end cap this way, with no exposed cable end that can fray.

The front brake is positioned such that you can leave excess cable sticking past the pinch bolt if you want, but that would not be aero. I attached the cable to the front brake so I could use it while riding up and down the street to check my fit, but I just snipped it quickly near the pinch bolt and crimped a cable end on it. I'd planned to trim it flush after I cut the housing to the desired length. But, the housing turned out to be fine the way it was. There's not enough extra cable that I feel compelled to get rid of it immediately, so I'll get around to trimming it flush with the pinch bolt on some future rainy weekend.

I bought a used, like-new Selle SMP Chrono. My road bike saddle of choice is the SMP Composit, so I was hopeful the Chrono would work as well for me on the TT bike. Alas, no. So, I put my old ISM Adamo Road saddle on for now. That works fairly well, but I think less padding might be better. ISM now has a version of the Adamo called the Time Trial that supposedly has less padding and is designed for more forward pelvic rotation, so I'll probably pick up one of those to try. (In the meantime, if you're in the market for an SMP Chrono, let me know!)

Here's a mount for the Garmin I made from PVC pipe and zipties. Not the prettiest, but it does the job.

I decided to wrap the bars. When I used these aerobars on my road bike, I felt very comfortable without any tape, but I think that's because my weight wasn't as low and forward as it is on the TT bike. At any rate, I feel more secure with the extra grip of the wrap. I've seen some bars set up with simple strips of black griptape similar to the stuff on skateboards, but since I already had regular bartape, I went with that first. Stretched tightly, one spool was enough to cover all four tips. My hands seem to tend towards twisting inward and sliding forward when on the aerobars, so I wrapped them starting from the shifters and going around in the inward direction. For the base bar, I also started the wrap at the levers, but wrapped outwards instead. Time will tell, but on my one ride so far, this configuration seemed fine.

I'd like to get some aero wheels eventually, but besides that, this project is done!

2010 Jamis Xenith T2 Build, part 5 - more drop, derailleurs, and splurge #2

2011-09-05T13:01:00.001-07:00

I don't know why I bothered leaving so much steerer tube when I had the fork cut. Maybe for easier resale someday? Unless one simply can't abide the appearance and weight, an adjustable stem can provide a wide range of stack height, or lack thereof. That's the route I ended up taking, so now I have a ridiculous-looking 20mm periscope of spacers atop an adjustable stem with >45 degrees of drop.

I put wheels on the bike as soon as the crank was on just to get a feel for the bar and saddle position. Surprisingly, the -10 degree 3T Forgie stem put me in a similar position as my road bike with clip-on bars and TT seatpost, which would make the Xenith an awful lot of work for no improvement in position. The -17 ARX Pro stem helped a little, but still wasn't very low. Time for more shopping. I saw a nice 3T ARXA stem on craigslist, but the 100mm length seemed too short. I ended up buying a used Dimension 130mm adjustable for $20 shipped. Again, I'm not concerned about weight on this bike, but the Dimension is a real porker: 239 grams, compared to 145 for the 3T 120mm ARX Pro. The Dimension seems stiff enough for TT bike use and doesn't creak, so all that weight appears to have been put to good use.

I decided to go with Sram Rival for the derailleurs -- new in front and slightly used in back. They're dirt cheap online -- even cheaper than the newest entry level Apex parts. Installation was a straightforward one-bolt affair for each. The front is a braze-on, and it bolted up parallel with the crank right out of the box, which is one nice plus compared to a clamp-on. One installation tip: install the front a smidge higher than where you actually want it. Once I installed and tightened the cable, the cage was slightly closer to the chainring than I wanted, so I had to undo the cable and move the cage up a little.

In contrast to the Rival derailleurs, I splurged a bit on the shifters. I saw a pair of new Sram R2C take-offs at a good Buy-It-Now price on eBay, so I pulled the trigger. Installation and adjustment were quite easy. To my surprise, these use external cable routing. I don't care, but I just assumed for some reason these were internally routed. (Maybe all TT shifters are routed this way -- I don't know my TT parts very well yet.) The external routing actually makes for easier installation and doesn't affect aerodynamics even if left untaped, since the short run of cable housing is covered by your hands when you're in the aerobars anyway.

The only hitch in cabling these up was due to the frame, not the shifters. The cable stop at the bottom bracket area for the rear cable was riveted at an angle that didn't match the trajectory of the cable coming out of the frame. With a ferrule installed, the cable end just didn't want to go into the stop. I tried grabbing the ferrule with pliers and angling it into the stop, but that just resulted in a scratched up ferrule. Finally, I pried open the sides of the cable stop enough to allow the cable end to slide halfway in and left it at that. Luckily the front shifter cable seated into its stop with no problems.

With the bars at a comfortable height, and the derailleurs installed, I had to decide how to set up the cables. If anything, the low height of the bars made the brake cables easier to set up. The shifter cables, however, were a different story. With the aerobars so low, it would almost be cleaner to have the cables enter the downtube instead of the toptube. Since that wasn't an option, I had to decide whether to run the cables out of the factory exit holes on the bottom side of the aerobars in front of the base bar, or have them exit straight out the back of the aerobars through holes I drilled in the plastic end plugs. I briefly toyed with the idea of cutting off the excess aerobar length behind the base bar clamps to give the cables a more gentle arc to the toptube. But that just seemed like too much work, so I ended up going with short and tight arcs out the back of the aerobars to minimize the amount of housing in the wind. We'll see if this impacts shifting after the cables have fully stretched and seated.

2010 Jamis Xenith T2 Build, part 4 - Quarq Cinqo S975 Crank

2011-09-05T12:32:00.000-07:00

I went low budget for a lot of parts, but one place where I splurged was on the crank. I'd been thinking of picking up a cheap 53/39 crank, but one day I came across a used Quarq BB30 with 54/42 TT rings on eBay. It was more than I was comfortable paying, but the idea of getting a Cinqo only grew from there. Then I found a used Quarq BB30 S975 53/39 out of state at a great price, but the seller didn't want to bother with shipping. Luckily, my friend in the same city did me the favor of picking up the crank and shipping it, so the otherwise humble TT build gets a relatively blingy centerpiece.

I'm not concerned with weight on this bike, but the Sram S975 crank is kind of a porker. With the Cinqo, spacers and washers, and Sram Red chainrings, the total weight was 803 grams. Another surprising thing about the crank was that the spindle was very long, requiring a weird spacer on the NDS that doesn't appear in Sram's installation guide. Maybe this is unique to the Quarq version of the Sram crank. In contrast, I know the Hollowgram version of the Cinqo uses one of two regular length Hollowgram spindles, depending on your frame.

The seller even included Quarq magnets and epoxy. The snaprings for inside the shell arrived a few days earlier, and I already had a couple spare BB30 bearings, so it was installation time. Here's a photo of the magnet epoxied to the BB shell. The logo is a nice touch, even though it'll be hidden by the installed crank.

A strange thing happened with one of the bearings. Though it felt nice and smooth before installation, it spun somewhat crunchily after I pressed it in. After I took it out, it spun smoothly again. The pressure from being inside the BB shell was apparently enough to misalign something. I pushed in a different bearing, and happily that one spun smoothly both in and out of the shell.

I programmed my Garmin with the ANT+ code inside the Quarq's battery case and spun the cranks. Nothing. Hmm. I removed the crank and adjusted the magnet. Still nothing. The crank was only a few months old, according to the seller. But, I checked the battery with a voltmeter just to be sure. The voltage reading was so low I thought my voltmeter might be broken. I ordered some CR2450 batteries from Amazon. When they arrived, I checked their voltage and saw that my voltmeter was indeed working properly, and then I put the new battery in the Quarq and was happy to see the Garmin detect it immediately. Another internet bargain hunting success story!

2010 Jamis Xenith T2 Build, part 3 - bars and more cable stuff

2011-08-25T14:26:00.000-07:00

I already had a pair of T2+ aerobars that I wanted to make use of, so I ordered a new T2 base bar. Not because it matched, but because it was on sale. In fact, the logo color scheme seems to have changed since I bought the aerobars, so they actually don't match well at all. Brake levers are Sram carbon take-offs from eBay. I also bought a Jagwire Racer cable kit, which I supplemented with an extra 4ft of housing from the LBS.

The T2 base bar has a couple sets of holes for internal routing: an entry hole along the bullhorn for brake levers with external cabling (which I won't use and will probably tape over), and an exit hole near the bend. The easiest way I could think of to install the brake cables was to:

1. seat the cable in the lever, leaving the lever off the bar;

2. insert the other end of the cable through the front of the bar, using a small allen wrench and a flashlight to fish the end out of the exit hole;

3. pull the rest of the cable through the hole and attach the lever;

4. slide the housing onto the cable and feed it back up through the exit hole all the way until you feel the housing stop against the lever inside the bar.

The aerobars also have multiple holes for shifter cable entry and exit. Rather than use the exit holes, which are under the bar in front of the base bar and require either a big loop of housing or a smaller loop with more bends to reach the entry hole in the top tube behind the stem, I think I'll just drill holes in the bar-end plugs and run the shifter cables straight out the back of the aerobars. Looks like it'll be cleaner this way, based on this mockup. (I've yet to find shifters at the time of the photo. More on the over-under aerobar setup below.)

For stems, I have a 110mm (I think) -10, a 120mm -17, and a 100mm -5. I put the 110 -10 on for starters, but with the saddle set up at the right height, I'm guessing I'll need more drop. The T2+ aerobars sit on top of the base bar, and the armrests in turn sit above the aerobars. If I didn't already have the T2+, I'd look for a pair of Profile Design ZBS aerobars, which protrude from the front of the clamp at the same height as the base bar instead of attaching above the base bar, creating less stack.

As an experiment, I tried flipping the aerobar clamp upside down and running the aerobar under the base bar. I saw a photo of a similar setup on the interwebs somewhere, though that guy had taller risers for the armrests. The riser that came with my T2+ is only about 10mm, not quite tall enough to clear the top of the base bar comfortably. With the armrest pad attached, it might possibly work.

I think the bigger issue is that the bullhorns would then be too high, putting you into a lot of wind every time you have to come out of the aerobars. So, although it provides a lot more drop, I probably won't run the bars this way. I'll find an adjustable stem if I end up needing more than -17 degrees, but I won't be able to try out the fit until I do a lot more building.