LostGears - Bicycles and Other Freewheeling Ideas

Peacock Groove - Erik Noren: the most misunderstood bike builder in the whole fucking world

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 04:25:00 +0000

I first met Erik Noren at the 2007 North American Handmade Bicycle Show (NAHBS) in San Jose. The show floor was loaded with hundreds of booths, all adorned with the best that the world's greatest frame builders could muster. Most of the wares were fragile looking sparkly things that urged you not to touch them for fear that they'd break, or worse, get smudged.

Then there's Erik. His bikes were strewn about his booth haphazardly. Some crept out into the aisles, and these had a different story to urge you. The Peacock Groove bikes clearly said, "go ahead and touch me, but I may bite." The first bike I saw was his "Nuge." A big 'ol tip of a snakeskin cowboy hat to Ted Nugent. This beefy mountain bike was loaded with hefty racks, a camo paint scheme, and looked fully capable of going into the woods with Ted and hauling back big game.

I interviewed Erik for the Fixed Gear Gallery then, and you can hear those original audio tracks by clicking the link to the right in the sidebar for my Utterli account.

So now it's a couple years later, and I'm planning a trip to Minneapolis. I give Erik a shout and suggest that we meet. He's all for it. I've been wanting to see his new studio/workshop. I show up in Minneapolis with my Coppi S and S coupled bike, and ride on over to the Peacock Groove jungle on Saturday.

Erik meets me at the door of this very cool old factory, now a collection of artist/artisan spaces. I spend a few hours and get the whole tour. Midway through the day, two friends from Quality Bike Parts show up to get assistance on reaming threads and facing the BB and head shell of a couple brand new bikes.

Erik is a friggin' philosopher on just about any subject. He's neither shy, nor lacking the ability to reach for jaw-dropping metaphors. One such metaphor got him in trouble last year when he showed up to NAHBS with a new concept bike. This one was a tribute to Guns n Roses' album Appetite for Destruction. You Metal rockers out there might remember that there were two album covers that hit the market. The original, a cartoon depiction of a rape scene by master illustrator Robert Williams, was taken off the shelves after MTV threatened not to play the music video because of the cover's violent subject matter. It was replaced by a toned down version of the band's tattoo-esque logo. The original cover, however, is something of legend in metal circles.

Noren decided he wanted to use the original album cover as a statement about rape, (the artist's depiction also includes an avenging angel poised to bring his wrath upon the perpetrator.) According to the original artist, Williams, that was the intention. When the bike hit the show floor, it set off a firestorm of controversy at NAHBS. People demanded the bike be removed from the show. Erik, while outwardly defensive, was nonetheless perplexed and embarrassed by the incident. And it continued long after the show was over on bike forums around the Internet. The main dialogue was contained on the Serotta bikes web forum. You can dig it up there if you so wish. But that's not what this story is about.

Nevertheless, that story is enigmatic of Erik. He tends to fall into these type of situations. It happens because of his philosophy, which as much as I could tell, is all about not fitting in. Conformity in life, and in bike building, are things you should not expect of Erik.

What you should expect are new ideas, done in an assertive manner. Erik isn't much for constraints and falseness of circumstance. He's direct, some would say aggressive, when he says anything. It's just his way though.

Peacock Groove makes some stylish, badass, no excuses machines, that fit between your legs. Sure, Erik can come off as an opinionated jerk. But I challenge anyone with that opinion to shut their own traps and listen to him for a while. Moreover, look at what he does. He's a bike builder! Don't judge him on his ability to speak in public, or make politically correct decisions. Judge him for his bikes, how they look, how they ride, and how the make you smile and giggle out loud like a little kid again.

If you watch the video below, you'll see Erik in all his glory. We were joined that day by two of Erik's friends, Chris and Peter. He took this number as being a real audience and gave us a command performance. From dissertations on his being wronged at the 2008 NAHBS event for his Guns n Roses bike, to railing on Rush Limbaugh, comparing himself to Liberace, or preaching the Gospel of Patrick Swayze. It's all Erik. Take him as you will. Maybe wear your work gloves, so as not to scratch your supple hands when shaking his, or bring along that extra thick set of skins you've got in reserve. He'll surely wear through the first few layers in a matter of minutes. But, dear people, take him. He's one of the most unique and original people I've met in this ever more jaded world of bicycling.

Peacock Groove - Erik Noren, the world's most misunderstood bike builder from Bill Palladino on Vimeo.

Big thanks to Erik for his time.

Thanks also, to his friends Peter and Chris who stopped by with beer to feed the crazed journalist in their midst.

Babes in BikeLand III - Minneapolis

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 05:18:00 +0000

A Grown Man's Very Good Day!

So I’m in Minneapolis on business and decide to drop in on my friend Erik Noren of Peacock Groove Cycles. I figured I’d do an interview with him for the Fixed Gear Gallery website.

During the interview, (soon to come - see the bottom of this page for a sneak peek at this controversial frame-builder,) he mentions Babes in Bikeland III. This is a women’s only alley cat race around Minneapolis on Saturday evening. Did I say women only?! Who am I to turn down such an invitation.

Over 160 women lined up for the start of the race in between the old Pillsbury grain elevator and the old soap factory in the St. Anthony Falls section of north Minneapolis. What an incredible variety of bike enthusiasts! And truly, "enthusiasm" is the best word to describe what I saw. This is Carrie, last year's winner of the Babes in Bikeland II. She's standing with one of Erik's show bikes...this one a tribute to the Kill Bill movies.

Chelsea and Kayla were the race organizers, and did a great job. They even sold the beer cups at the after party.

Unlike most alley cats with men racing, it seemed that most of the 160+ women were sharing their ideas and plotting out their plans for the race together. Sometime in pairs, sometimes in groups of three or four. Here are a few shots of the gals planning their routes with the provided checkpoint maps.

I love this picture of one woman's route notes...on her arm.

And some helpful men standing around the start too!

Here's a short video of the start of the race.

The winner of the race, Jana, took about one hour and twenty minutes to complete the course and return with a correct manifest. She smoked all the others. She won a custom tig-welded frame from Erik Noren at Peacock Groove Cycles. (Thanks to I Bike Mpls for the image link.)

The after-party in the alley behind One On One Bike Shop was incredible. Hundreds of people celebrating, kegs of beer, silly bike antics, and Swag!

This was a great celebration of cycling in Minneapolis. Next fall, when you're starting to feel sorry for yourself because of dwindling beach hours and that sudden drop in temps....saddle up and show up for the Babes in BikeLand Alley Cat. Guaranteed a good time. Thanks gals!

And for those of you who don't know Erik Noren of Peacock Groove Cycles, here's a sneak peak at some raw footage from my interview with him. WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE AND PORTLAND BASHING!

Steelwool Bicycles "Tweed" Review

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 18:23:00 +0000

Steelwool Bicycles Tweed (Ottawa, Canada)

Expedition Touring Frame & Fork $680 Canadian ($625 USD)

Complete Bike as Reviewed Approx $1100 Canadian ($1009 USD)

Since the very first day last year when the Steelwool ad showed up on the FG website, I wanted to get my paws on one of their bikes. I liked the lugged steel, and simple paint scheme. But, alas, they had no American dealers as yet.

Fast forward a year or so, and I get the advance copy of Where Are You Go, a documentary about the Tour d’Afrique (the race/tour from Cairo to Capetown in Africa.)

We were planning to show it as the feature presentation at this year’s FGG Symposium Film Night. As it turns out Steelwool is one of the film’s sponsors and their bikes are featured in it. This gave me the idea to get one of the bikes to ride and showcase during the week of Fixed Gear Symposium events. Will, from Steelwool, was all about that idea.

The Steelwool website features three main production bikes; two street bikes, generally known as the Sweet City Limited, designed for the fixed gear crowd, (the 200 series limited, and the 300 series limited,) and the Tweed; the subject of this review. When Will asked which of their bikes I wanted, I told him it should be the Tweed, a tweaked out multi-purpose rig, and not either of their street offerings. Most of the bikes we review here are street-fare. I saw an opportunity to review something more flexible and substantial.

As delivered, the bike came ready to ride, minus a set of pedals. In fact, within ten minutes of slicing open the box, and stealing a set of used platforms off the shelf in Dennis’s store, I had pumped up the tires and was riding down the road. They sent the bike in its fixed gear configuration, loaded with Steelwool branded goodies. The review bike is an XL, according to their website, featuring a seat tube measuring 59 cm effective c-c, and a matching 59 cm, slightly sloping top tube.

As far as XL bikes go, this is a tad on the small side. This sloping top tube configuration gives the bike a tight feeling in the cockpit. On a standard frame, I need a 61 or 62cm seat tube to make it work. The Tweed’s slack geometry makes it easy to stretch it out to a comfortable size for me, and also makes it possible for a wider range of riders to hop on. And it’s a great feeling to be in the woods on road bike with a hefty standover clearance. I will say the XL is likely at its limit with a rider of about 6’2” in height.

The bike shines with old-school sheen. The muted green basecoat along with the contrasting brown patches on the down-tube and top-tube give it a vintage feeling. This is reinforced by the classic brazed lug construction. The frame is made of Tange Prestige double butted tubing and is no lightweight. The feeling, however, is one of a sturdy, stiff, bike that will go anywhere you point it, and carry any reasonable load. It also has the accoutrement to prove that out. The frame carries most every braze-on imaginable, from dual water bottle bosses and rack mounts, to an assortment of brake options rivaling the entirety of the mountain bike world: cantilever bosses, drilled fork and bridge for calipers, AND disc mounts. Our review bike features Tektro Oryx cantis, front and rear.

And it doesn’t stop there. One of the key defining features of the Tweed is its eccentric bottom bracket with two adjusting bolts on the top. (All Steelwool bikes have this feature rather than track forks.) There’s a seat tube mounted front derailleur hanger, seat-stay mounted cable runs, a rear derailleur hanger, tight vertical dropouts, and a set of triple cable-bosses on top of the top tube,(just in case you want to shoulder the bike on your next Cyclocross event, or hump it up three flights of stairs like me.) They’ve also included a few special taps for attaching fenders. Steelwool says they designed the bike to fit single-speed, derailleur, and internally geared systems.

The Tweed’s design is the equivalent of a Leatherman multi-tool. You carry it in your pocket because it serves the main purpose of being a knife, but should you need it to do something a bit unusual, you’ll probably find the right tool in there somewhere. This bike seems to epitomize as much a designer’s philosophy as it does a builder’s craft. Here’s a bike that can do it all, without stretching its original intent too far.

Let’s look at the pics:

The Bits:

As delivered, the Tweed was set up in an unusual configuration, and that was by our request. As a heavy expedition or Cyclocross rig, it’s probably not best-suited to the fixed gear world. But, since we were reviewing it for this site, asked them to do their best to comply. The Tweed came to us with a collection of Steelwool branded bits. The wheels look to be a generic aero wheel with a very nice smoky grey anodized, large flange, hub. The hoops themselves are heavy, but the hubs look gorgeous and got a lot of attention while I rode the bike during the symposium. The crankset (144 BCD) is another Taiwanese confection that wears Steelwool’s brand. Nothing special here, but it does the job. The drive train was set at 46x18, a decent gear for tugging all that weight around the streets and the woods.

The bars are a sweet set of “Raundoneur” curvies with a shallow drop. These are designed for the long-haul. They’re fitted with Tektro black levers and dressed up with brown faux leather tape. The stem is another generic thing with a Cane Creek headset. The seat is another generic add-on, but rather comfy, attached to a serviceable seat-post, neither of which will get you running out to buy them on eBay.

The Tweed is sporty. Everyone compliments its aesthetic appeal. It almost begs you to take it off the trail and test it out. Mr. Wizard, at the FGG, thought that would be a good idea, and without much fanfare, got on his new Ridley cyclocross bike and took me to tour the Traverse City Xcross course behind the state hospital. I immediately told him I’d have to go put a freewheel on the back, and he scoffed at that. “Let’s go….right now.” And off we went.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Mc79kBxqzw

While the gearing wasn’t perfect for the course, the bike easily handled the rolling hills and tight trails. I pounded hard on the pedals and the Tweed responded fluidly. I was surprised at how supple it was in the bottom bracket; not sloppy, just right. To look at that huge concentric BB, you’d think it would be quite stiff, but they’ve figured some magic out with the Tange tubing here. It was very comfortable on even the most dynamic areas of the course, but never seemed to lack power when I had to hammer on it.

During the Symposium, I rode the bike everywhere, putting well over 200 miles on it that week. Moreover, I was anything but gentle with it, (as witness the numerous clear-coat smudges I caused.) I rode hills in Leelanau County, the rollers on the Old Mission Peninsula, and even competed in the hill climb competition on the Tweed. Living its life as a fixed gear ride is likely not the best end for this frame. If it were mine, I’d toss on a good set of wheels with a single speed freewheel, or maybe spring for one of the new internally geared hubs.

Conclusions:

Buy the frame and fork and just try to beat them up. The bike is gorgeous, with classic lines, even with its sloping top tube. It has every brazed-on bit you could ever imagine using, and the eccentric bottom bracket will make for easy and fast chain tensioning. As ridden, it’s definitely not a bike I’d take out with the big road dogs here. They’d drop me in a minute. The bike’s weight is its main drawback. Most of that weight, however, comes from the solid frame designed to carry just about anything. Unfortunately, the parts that came with this build were simply distractions. I wouldn’t recommend them, excepting for the hubs and the bars. But I must add here, this was not Steelwool’s call. They would’ve preferred sending one of their lighter street-ready rigs.

The slack geometry on this bike makes it feel more like driving a big old sedan than the sports cars we’re used to reviewing here. But, as SNL’s Linda Richman would say…”It’s like butter!” It’s low center of gravity, combined with high bottom bracket, long wheelbase, and masculine tubing present a formidable counter assault to any obstacle in your way. Throw down the fact that it can handle innumerable configurations, take huge loads, and feels comfortable on long rides, makes this bike beg to have S&S couplers installed so you can take it anywhere you go at the drop of chain-ring bolt.

The Up Side:

Super tough lugged Tange Prestige Frame and Fork $680 Canadian
Incredibly versatile
Braze-on heaven
Aesthetically gorgeous with classic lines
Eccentric bottom bracket with top-mounted Allen set screws
Beefy, beefy, beefy
Smooth ride with great degree of adjustability
Fits up to 38mm tires with fenders
Disc brake mounts
Frame and fork good value for level of workmanship

And the Down Low:

Heavy
Eccentric Bottom Bracket scares some people
I’d like to see a higher end build available with better bits
Track nuts on front axle slightly larger than flange on dropouts.(When I first tightened the nuts down, they had the wheel shift a bit from its fully seated position in the dropouts.)
Pricey at first glance (Remember to convert currency from Canadian)
XL should be at least a centimeter longer on the top tube to accommodate taller riders.

The Short of It:

This bike may in fact be the only mathematical defense to the N+1 rule. It feels like I’m getting five bikes for the price of one with this Canadian beauty, ((N+1)-4) anyone? Buy the gorgeous frame and fork, leave the bits behind.

See the full video version of this review here:

Hyperlink References:

Steelwool Bicycles: www.steelwoolbicycles.ca

Tour d’Afrique Race/Tour: http://www.tourdafrique.com/epictours/tourdafrique

Where Are You Go – Movie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NpubbAzKSY

Lostgears’ Flickr Set: http://www.flickr.com/photos/billpalladino/sets/72157622245366722/

Tweed On The Trail Video File:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Mc79kBxqzw

Lostgears’ Video Review File:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iFEFmwIdmPA

Brick Heads Ride in Leelanau County

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 05:29:00 +0000

On Sunday I joined the Brick Heads crew for a great, long, ride into Leelanau County. We gather at Tim Brick's house on Lincoln Road. Tim is the owner of Brick Wheels and has hosted this ride for 20 years or more.

We never know who will show up. Today, we were celebrating Wally-Dawg's 56th birthday. It was a hot, muggy, day. And keeping the wheels rolling was all that kept us cooled off on this day.

It was a beautiful trip. Here's the Trimble GPS map of the journey.

This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip here instead.

And here's a little video I threw together.

2009 Fixed Gear Symposium

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 03:36:00 +0000

Here are some fixed gear symposium shots and videos from last week. Too much to consider and write about right now, but check back soon. Enjoy.

Our Friday Morning trip to the Old Mission Lighthouse with Big Matt, Ken and Sarah Heike, and Jimmy Raggett.

And here's the wrap-up from Friday evening's Aerospoke sponsored events.

Driving On the Wrong Side of the Road - Part Three

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Sat, 30 May 2009 17:43:00 +0000

I get up about 8:30 AM, shower, shave, and put on some comfortable shorts for the day’s events. Yant has promised that we’ll first make a pilgrimage to a couple of famous London bike shops. Finally, a traveling companion who knows how to make a boy happy!

We wander through various neighborhoods and then find a small coffee shop to tank up on Brick Lane. Again, no different than any small café’ in the states. Tiny joint, one staff person perpetually running behind, a dozen or so people scattered around the place with laptops, and a couple bikes just leaning against the wall inside. My kind of place.

It’s here I spot a truly unique London artifact. It’s a World War II era poster in deep red with block white letters that reads only, “Keep Calm and Carry On.” Each word is on a separate line, succinct and absolute. This is one of a series of similar posters displayed during the Nazi Blitz, designed to keep up the nation’s morale under dyer circumstances. I like it.

Our next stop is the home of Brick Lane Bikes. It’s just around the corner from the coffee shop. We arrive at 9:45, but it doesn’t open until 10:00. Already there are people lining up outside; some riding bikes, some carrying wheels to be fixed. All seem anxious to get inside.

When the doors open the rush of people disappears deep inside the building while I stop short just inside the door.

There, hanging in the window, is a beauriful Bob Jackson custom built track bike. It’s got those simple traditional English lines. Nothing fancy except for maybe the brazing work on the impeccable lugs. It looks flawless.

As I move my gaze away from this beaut, I realize that the room is filled with Bob Jackson frames. Most are branded as his, but many are branded as BLB or Brick Lane Bikes frames.

They apparently have a close relationship with this famous Leeds frame builder. The frames are not cheap, but considering the workmanship not out of reach either. All seem to fall in the 400 to 600 pound category. That’s about $700 to $1000 US. I see Bob Jackson frames everywhere in this city. They are somewhat ubiquitous while still maintaining an artful, hand-built, old-school image.

Brick Lane Bikes specializes in fixed gear parts, frames, and service. All throughout the store there are gems to uncover. The ceiling is loaded with vintage Italian racing bikes from the 70’s, and 80’s. Colnago, Piniarello, Benotto. They’ve got a huge selection for such a small shop, of Phil anodized hubs, Paul Components cranks, and others. Yant and I spend about a half hour before our eyes begin to glaze over and we look for an escape route.

Next stop we head towards the Tube station some 10 or so blocks away. En route we stumble onto another shop that looks like an upscale fixed gear haven, 14 Bike Co. Unfortunately they’re closed and we have to settle for snapshot or two through the glass windows.

The tube is quite a funny adventure for a 6’3” tall traveler. The sides of the train cars drop down quickly from the peak. I can only stand up straight directly in the middle of the car.

Leaning either way causes my head to rattle against the sloping ceiling.

After a short ride on the Tube, we get off at St.Paul’s Station and head upstairs.

Within a few moments, we’re circling the outside of the historic cathedral.

The architecture is awe inspiring and I take what seems like a thousand photos before we’ve gotten around to the formal entrance looking down towards fleet street.

From there we walk toward the Thames river and the Millenium Bridge, built in 2000 as a pedestrian connector from this side of the river, to the Tate Modern Museum on the other side.

The bridge is a spectacular span of stainless steel trusses and cables. Its design gives one the feeling of floating across the Thames on a silver ribbons and threads.

Yant and I take over an hour to peruse the Tate Modern. It’s built in an old power plant for London. And the space inside is gargantuan. It’s wider and at least five times taller than any aircraft hanger I’ve ever seen. And that’s just the atrium space.

From there we stroll for miles along the walkways adjacent to the Thames.

There are more people here than I’ve ever seen in such a place. Even the hustle of New York or Chicago cannot compare to London. The city spreads out for miles in every direction and the crowds of people are spread out around it. I feel like I’m in a constant river of life, moving from one venue to the next.

Along the way there are more museums, galleries, theaters, and shops. Where one of the bridges crosses, there’s a huge open air book market and sidewalk artists recreating masterpieces in chalk.

Just a few steps from this place there’s a covered section of promenade that set aside as a skate/bike park. It features all the ramps and rails you’d imagine, but also the place is covered head to toe with graffiti. The crazy patchwork of tags demarks the perimeter of the park, and there’s even two kids tagging the wall as I watch. And the most interesting thing is the crowds of onlookers standing two and three deep watching the kids play. It’s like entertainment for the masses.

We stroll on now past “The London Eye,” a massive 443 foot tall Ferris wheel. It’s now a landmark in London, built as part of the millennium celebrations in 2000. The wheel never stops moving. It moves slowly enough that people are able to walk on and off the cars without having to stop them.

From the Eye it’s only a short walk to the Westminster Bridge.

This, of course, leads to Parliament, the Abbey, and Big Ben. By the time we cross the bridge and pose for a few touristy photos, I’m tired and parched.

We head down some backstreets to get away from the hoards and look for a pub. I’m grateful again to have Yant along as my guide. The curling byways of old London can be confusing for first time visitors. A few blocks later we find a place called the Sanctuary Pub – Ales and Pies. (And we’re not talking cherry pies here… these are meat pies!)

We walk through the doors at a great moment. It’s the start of another football championship match. This one is the FA Cup Final between Chelsea and Everton. The pub is beginning to fill up with patrons, and there’s an interesting mix of wedding-goers, tourists, and locals standing around waiting for the game to start. All the best tables next to the tele have been reserved by groups. We stand at a small round and watch the first half before heading back out.

Yant takes me on the big tour.

We walk from Westminister thru St. James Park, Buckingham Palace,

Trafalagar Square and the National Gallery, Haymarket, Picadilly Circus, St. Martin in the Fields, Charing Cross Road,

then Leicester’s Square’s theatre district where there’s a quaint statue of Charlie Chaplin.

What a pleasure to finally put a face to all these very famous sites that have become part of my travel lexicon. We finally settle in for something to eat at an outdoor middle-eastern restaurant within ear-shot of the goings-on in the square.

After some nourishment we saddle up again and start the long walk back to The City district where my hotel is located.

Yant’s route takes us by another shop worth the pilgrimage, the Condor bike shop. Unfortunately, it’s getting late and they’ve closed for the day. But I take some pictures anyway.

A few blocks later we run into the poignant Ghost Bike scene. A white bike, festooned with flowers for a fallen rider, set in front of a stark blue storefront.

By the time we get to the Old Street tube station, we’re both fairly exhausted. It’s been a long day. I thank my host for his heroic hospitality, see him off at the station, and make my way back to the Hoxton Hotel for my last night in London. It was a great trip.

Driving on the Wrong Side of the Road - Part Two

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Fri, 29 May 2009 18:58:00 +0000

London Town Tourist
(Part One available on my business blog - http://www.lostcityserenade.blogspot.com )

Driving back to Heathrow from Derby is a three hour affair. Now that I’m comfortable with the left-hand shifting, looking out over my right shoulder for traffic, and diving in and out of the roundabouts at breakneck speed, it’s time for me to give up the car. I have an acquaintance in London. I know him only from our interactions in the online forum on a bicycling website that I write for occasionally. We’ve never met.

Yant sent me a few recommendations for lodging options in London for the two days and nights I’ll have to be tourist. First choice was a funky little place called the Hoxton Urban Lounge. Now that might sound like more a club than a hotel, but the name is quite apt. It sports itself as a trendy hotspot for a younger crowd in London. Located in the city centre neighborhood, The rates, as it turns out, are very reasonable for such a well situated and apportioned place. $89 pounds, (about $150 per night at current rates.)

I check in to the friendly place, which features one of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve had at ANY price, and shower up and change my clothes. The hotel is full of great attitude at every turn, witness "Boring Sign No. 5." Things like this were all over the place. Today is Friday and as such my official letter writing day wherever I am. I head down to the nice ground floor lounge to grab my first London pint, find a huge chair in the bustling room, and nestle in.

By the time I’ve written my first three letters, my Blackberry rings and it’s Yant at the other end saying he’s only minutes away. Tonight we’re intending to simply grab a drink and get to know each other. We head out the door and within two minutes we’re in the midst of at least five pubs that have all spilled out onto the streets with Friday afternoon clientele.

In this way it’s really no different than the states. There’s a mix of people, all colors and races, sexes and persuasions. Most wearing some sort of business attire, others just jeans and a soccer jersey. The insides of each pub are spacious despite the hour. Most people simply get their drinks and head directly out onto the narrow streets. It’s a gorgeous warm day in London.

Yant and I have a great chat while I drink a couple pints of Spitfire Ale to his Thomas... something or other ….. Then we get hit up by a beggar for some change. He asks, "some spare change for the Chicken Tikka?" We give him some pence. It was a great pitch!

I give Yant a present I’d dragged with me from my friend Dennis in Traverse City. Dennis stayed with Yant last year while here covering the World Track Championships in Manchester for the Fixed Gear Gallery. Yant and I finish our second pints and head off down the road to find another pub and maybe something to eat. He drags me through one backstreet after another with similar scenes of young people spilling out onto the streets with pints of beer in their hands. It looks not unlike Bourbon Street in New Orleans, except it’s simply much more civilized.

After wandering a bit we stumble into a place to eat solely because it’s got the smallest crowd in front of it. One look at the menu and we’re sold. Prices are reasonable and the food looks decent and unusual enough to be interesting. Once inside we realize we’ve managed to find something special.

The Hoxton Apprentice Restaurant, (no association with the hotel,) is a training facility for long-unemployed city dwellers. The restaurant puts them to work while teaching them a sought after trade in high-end culinary work. The food is excellent!

We finish up and stumble back towards the hotel, but not without first finding another pub or two to knock down a few more pints. It’s a real treat to have someone to show me around, and to tip a few with. I’m enjoying this trip. About midnight things begin to wind down in this neighborhood. Many of the pubs have specifically restricted licenses that mandate closing their sidewalk business at a given hour. Some have “ten o’clock licenses,” other elevent o’clock, and so on. We choose a place called the Foundry. It’s about as rough a pub as I’ve seen so far. In the US it might qualify as a biker bar. But all the people outside, (over a hundred,) are sitting on little three-legged stools which they’ve collected in gregarious amoebic clusters on the sidewalk at the confluence of four major streets.

Yant has suggested that we meet up again tomorrow early for a real tourist day in town. So we call it a night, but not brfore I grill him as to thr local late night traditions of pub enthusiasts. The power of colonial transference is readily apparent when he shoots back his answer. “Curries and kebabs man!” All of the U.K. has somehow taken on the fast-food likes of its once colonized distant continent.

I walk Yant to the Tube station, seeing him off, and stop by the Turkish Kebab shop for a little nightcap. It’s my first chance to do some people watching on my own where I can blend into the crowd a bit. In a tight space, no bigger than my condo’s bedroom back home, I squeeze in amongst ten or twelve others and get the attention of Amir behind the counter. I order a lamb pita with rice, and say yes to the question “salsa and salad?” The salad is lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumber all piled onto the already huge pita. The salsa is some extra potent Indian hot sauce with essences of gara masala and coriander. Amir takes the massive thing and skillfully rolls it all up together in several layers of foil and wax paper. The smell coming from the package is both shocking and delightful. I get the whole mess to go, and start my stroll back to the hotel to catch up on email, call Torie back in Montana on Skype, and get a few hours sleep before my host comes calling again. Tomorrow is a busy day.

Riding to Leland via Cedar and Schomberg Road

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 01:03:00 +0000

I was thinking of heading to Glen Arbor yesterday and I bailed. Ended up short, going to Cedar instead.

Fact is though I've been wanting to get that metric century under my belt early this season, so I climbed back on the Schwinn fixie and pushed off towards Leland...the long way.

Bicyclists in these parts all know Schomberg Road in Leelanau County. It's a notorious nine mile stretch of road heading north out of Cedar. Straight roads are funny things. They can wreak havoc on your good sense. This road seems unimposing...for the first mile or so.

Then it just keeps coming at you, hill after hill after hill. Granted, each uphill push comes with a nice downhill complement, but you know how it is with fixed gear bikes. You're working pretty hard going downhill as well as uphill.

The early spring scenery is spectacular today, and that makes it all more tolerable. At the crest of each hill the horizon seems to open up a little more, providing some hope that Leland will be just around the next corner.

Well, it's Easter Sunday and the whole town of Leland is shut down except for all the brunchers at the Bluebird Restaurant. Critical error on my part.... I didn't bring much food and had expected to reward myself with some kind of chow here. Oops. So I down my one apple, and a few power-cubes, chug some water and off I go.

Working my way towards Lake Leelanau Drive on M-22 the wind hits me hard in the face and I hunker down again. Finally turning southward things get comfortable and the scenery is glorious. The north end of Lake Leelanau is packed with ice, and the white surface is blinding as I look across.

By the time I cross County 204 in Lake Leelanau, I'm feeling the bonk. I know if I don't get some food I'll just drag myself home. But it IS Easter, and nothing seems open. I point the wheel south and keep rolling.

Then an Omen. Manna falling from heaven. Or more precisely, a sandwich from Joe, really. As I crest the hill at Donner Road, there in the center of the two lanes, lying between the two yellow lines is a ham and cheese sandwich. I'm not kidding. It's perfectly wrapped in plastic, and it's from NJ's Indian store in Lake Leelanau. On the wrapper, along with the "made-on" date, is written in big letters the name JOE, in thick magic marker. Poor Joe must have placed it on top of his car. While turning off 641 onto Donner Road it looks like it slid off, safely face-up in the middle of the road.

Now some of you would ask why I wouldn't just leave that sandwich sitting in the middle of the road? Well, I'm a do gooder, and that was too much litter in the middle of the road...and I was hungry! And, yes, I ate it. And it was good. Thanks Joe! I owe you one.

Here's the trip map:
This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip here instead.

Early Season Lighthouse Run

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 16:27:00 +0000

Dennis is heading to the Detroit velodrome tomorrow morning to practice again on the track. Too early for me, so I decide to go on a solo jaunt out to the lighthouse. Another first assault for the season.

As soon as I get a block from home the wind hits me in the face and it's cold! I decide to push on and deal with it. I heat up pretty fast and then hunker down into the wind that is coming straight out of the north.... exactly where I'm heading. It's a stand-up wind too. Gotta be 15 to 20 MPH. The wind roars through my helmet, a deafening companion. But heck, it's a gorgeous crystal blue northern Michigan day.

As East Shore Drive opens up, it reveals Lake Michigan at its bluest. Sapphire is a good reference here. The wind is whipping up the surf, and I think to myself I wouldn't want to be on a boat today. All this makes the ride tolerable, and more than that, enjoyable.

There's no sitting up, riding no-hands today though. I'm in full tuck as much as I can stand, and my legs are grinding forward. I'm making a conscious decision to slowly increase my gear inches on the fixie this season. Starting with my comfortable 42 x 15, I've now moved to 42 x 14. That's about 82 gear inches. I plan to jump up to a 52 x 17 within the next month.

As I crest Smokey Hollow hill for the first time this year, the view of Lake Michigan stretching out in the distance is as delightful as ever. It beckons us all for the season ahead. And the reward of climbing from the south is the 45 MPH decent in Old Mission. What a blast!

Here's a video of the ride:

Approaching the lighthouse, I see that the gate is locked tight and there's still a lot of snow in there. But tradition is hard to beat so I stop for a minute.

Just long enough to catch a chill facing unprotected now into the charging north wind.

I saddle back up and suddenly things are quiet with the wind to my back. That's a relief. I negotiate my way over to Seven Hills Road and once again I'm reminded of why we all love riding the peninsula. Cherry trees to my right, grape vines to my left, and the long stretch of road undulating towards the horizon. These are indeed seven hills, not bad, just enough to wake you up and provide a good early season test of the legs.

So that's it today. Here's the map.
This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href='http://www.trimbleoutdoors.com/ViewTrip.aspx?tripId=381316&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;utm_source=embedmap'&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;here&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; instead.

Ride to Sutton's Bay April 8th, 2009

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 20:41:00 +0000

Dennis and I picked up "gear-head" rider Brian Beauchamp and took a trip out towards Sutton's Bay today. We want to hit the TART trail and see if the snow has cleared. It doesn't take long for us to run into enough snow to challenge our skinny little tires, and then after Cherry Bend Road, enough to turn us back and hit the roads.

Here's a short synopsis video of the ride set to some Pink Floyd.

We all know Dennis is a strong rider, so I figured we'd be putting the hurt to our friend Brian. But Brian, riding his Cannondale geared bike, is also a strong rider and holds his own doing some damage to us on the hills... up and down.

We take Leelanau County Road 633 from where it tees with Cherry Bend, climbing the familiar and subtle hill that starts it off. Once on top, it's a fun set of rollers that help us make it through all the bare farmland, and cherry orchards. The fields are still covered with small blotches of snow. And every now and then, where the road narrows and the trees shade the tarmac, snow creeps out onto the roadway reaching out at our 700c tires.

On the way back we choose to head out towards Lee Point, a gorgeous little spit of land that helps make up the bay that settlers named after named Sutton. A quick climb up reveals upon looking back, a killer view of the bay and rest of Lake Michigan in the distance. Not to be missed if you ride out this way.

While leaving Lee Point Road and entering M-22, I accelerate and in the process lose Dennis off my shoulder. By the time I look back he's gone. I wait until Brian shows up and just assume Dennis is with him. Oops. We tinker around waiting but he doesn't show up. I get on the cell and leave him a message with our intended route and we plod up Shady Lane hill. (Dennis had been having some problems with his seat after spending some time on the Velodrome in Detroit last week.)

By this time it is about 8:00 PM and the Sun is setting on our right, just at this moment the field to our left opens up revealing the full moon rising. This is why we ride here. It's simply gorgeous any time of year.

As Brian and I make our way across 633 heading home I suggest that if Dennis is on M-22 he may in fact catch up to us. And as we jump off the TART Trail at M-72, there in the distance is a flicker of red. Yup, it's Dennis. He managed somehow to beat us home. Well, that's just Dennis. Probably pissed him off that I left him behind and that charged him up to crank up the RPMs. I've learned too well to never underestimate the cycling prowess of this man. He's a friggin' god.

So that's it. Watch the video. And get on your damn bike!

Here's the Trimble Allsport GPS trip map of the journey.

This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip here instead.

TART Trail Eastbound to Bates Road

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 02:32:00 +0000

Gloomy March Ride on the TART Trail:

Here's a route map from my GPS app on my Blackberry.

Here's a short synopsis video set to some music by the Greyboy Allstars.

Our friend Barton Kirk came to town today from Pittsburgh and emailed me looking for a bike to borrow and a ride to join. As you probably already know, he called the right guy. I'm itching to ride more now the Sun is setting so late. Bart's a young lad with some serious riding chops. (Note the Penn State jersey.)

Knowing Dennis and I would ride fixed, I took the DBR carbon road bike (with real gears!) off the wall and topped off the tires, and within an hour we were all heading out from Gary Howe’s place on Lincoln Avenue for a little leg-stretcher. Dennis (from Fixed Gear Gallery) surprised me with his brand new Nobilette track bike. He’d ordered it right off the floor at last month’s North American Handmade Bike Show in Indianapolis from Mark Nobilette himself.
Here's a video of Dennis describing the bike as he rides it.

As it turns out Mark and Dennis ride the same size frame and since building handmade frames on a speculative basis can get expensive, Mark tends to make his spec bikes in his size. Smart guy, and it sure makes Dennis a sitting duck every time he sets his eyes on one of Mark’s beauties. Dennis says Mark made him one of those Tony Soprano deals. You know; a deal he couldn't refuse. Anyway, the bike is a nice battleship gray with some UCI track championship badges on the down tube. Old School and simple. It’s fillet brazed to perfection with a hard-coat powder finish. The seat stays are enormously beefy and when I asked Dennis how it rode, he simply thrust his forearm up in the air in that manly way to suggest... "hard as a rock." Dennis dressed it up with a Campy crank, custom powder-coated black Velocity Fusion wheels on Phil hubs, a Cinelli Ti Stem, NO brakes, yadda – yadda – yadda. You know. It’s Dennis Bean – Larson’s personal pet. Jeesh!

The day was gloomy, cool, and very windy. We decided to beat the southerly wind by transversing it east/west. So, we took a leisurely route that followed the TART Trail to its extent eastward out of town. It’s just eleven miles out and another eleven back.

The TART Trail, for those uniformed is a great resource here in Traverse City. In total its thirty some miles of mostly paved and mostly protected multi-use, (non-vehicular,) trail. Stretching from Acme to the northeast, through Traverse City, and all the way to Sutton’s Bay to the northwest. If you ride a bike in this region, you spend a lot of time on this trail. The trail passes behind many commercial sections of the community and rests either next to existing railroad track or on top of removed tracks for most of its length. Views of Lake Michigan abound, as do miles of deep woods with the occasional wooden bridge crossing streams or swamps. In the summer the trail is singing with birds, bugs, and wildlife of all sorts. This ride did point out a couple of the very few problems with the TART Trail.

It’s the spring time and the trail had it’s accumulation of dirt and other detritus. That’s expected. It did focus our attention however on a some other dangerous features. The section of trail that pops out near east bay on Five Mile Road leaves the protection of the railroad right of way and borders the road with no other protection. Then in this same section the trail crosses the road at an odd angle in a fast section of Five Mile. Immediately following this, the trail takes an abrupt 90 degree turn to align riders perpendicular to the railroad crossing. It’s a bit dicey. One of the most unfortunate aspects of the TART Trail is that the railroad right of ways were not obtained for the whole distance. At Bunker Hill Road the trail enters this busy roadway and climbs up hill for distance. This is too bad. It’s the main determining factor for families turning back at this point.

(Barton demonstrates a perfect Xcross dismount for the impending lumber obstacle.)
For those who push on past this obstacle, there is more gorgeous Northern Michigan scenery to be had. A mile and a quarter later we turn on Lautner Road, go another 4/10ths of a mile and recapture the trail. This is a great part of the trail with a very long strait-away that begs the sprinter in you to jump off the seat. Another mile and 3/4 and the trail abruptly ends. Unfortunately the pavement ends awkwardly about 30 meters from M-72. It forces you to trudge through soft grass and sand. This technical issue also distracts you from the worst part of the ride. M-72 isn’t fun to drive your car on, and it’s incredibly intimidating to cross its 50 or so short feet on a bike, especially from the sand trap at the end of the trail. For those wanting to jump onto Bates Road and ride up through Antrim County, this is a challenging and hazardous intersection. There’s no marked crosswalk, no trail signs, and this is already a notorious section of road. So until this is somehow remedied, be careful if you venture this far on the TART.

Here's a video of the trio descending Bunker Hill Road with a still iced over East Bay in the background.

To make it clear, I’m a huge supporter of TART. I volunteer on many committees and for fundraisers. These comments are not meant to criticize TART. In fact it's meant to encourage and support their great works. I am all too familiar with the financial, and especially political, restrictions imposed on a group trying to make big changes like this.

Lastly, Dennis was sporting a very hip lightweight jacket hot off the presses at CHROME. They call it The Champ. The picture above shows Dennis demonstrating the cool reversible cuffs that change from discreet strips of fabric to super reflective night safety stripes in a jiff. The fabric is silky, but bombproof. I think it's made with some nifty pico-dynamic Kryptonite or some such nonsense. Check it out here.

Despite the trail issues, we had some fun and Dennis was along so Barton and I did a lot of listening. If you’ve ever ridden with the wizard, you know what I’m talking about. What else is there to say?

Take a peek at the map of the journey with the embedded Allsport GPS track at the bottom of the page. And if you're lusting over his new ride, you can check out the FGG store pages on Facebook, or Dennis's blog. Go to http://www.fixedgeargallery.com.

This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href='http://www.trimbleoutdoors.com/ViewTrip.aspx?tripId=369435&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;utm_source=embedmap'&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;here&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; instead.

Riding the Ice up Hylalite Canyon

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 01:27:00 +0000

Riding the Ice to Hyalite Canyon Reservoir:

March 1, 2009

A few months back Torie and I drove as far as we could up Hyalite Canyon, parked our car and hiked up to a beautiful set of waterfalls on the other side of the reservoir. On the way up I kept mental notes on the length and pitch of the road up trying to determine if it would be a good route for a fixed gear ride. I concluded that, yes indeed, it would be a blast to ride. I just hadn’t considered doing it in the winter. Then the time just seemed right. A storm finally came through few days ago and dropped some long awaited snow, and today the temperature dropped from the high forties into the low thirties. Perfect for a day trip on my fixed gear cross-bike with studded tires.

Hyalite Canyon Road is about eight miles south and a bit west of downtown Bozeman, Montana. The way there is fairly flat, with just a subtle constant uphill pressure on the pedals. The roads take you first through the edge-lands of Bozeman’s growing city, with condos and subdivisions speckling the first few miles. There’s hardly any traffic out here and the roads are in decent shape with substantial shoulders for most of the way. So the riding is pleasant.

Further outside the city limits the view turns decidedly Midwestern with irrigation equipment littering the fields out to the horizon, horses romping in the early spring Sun, and birds of prey resting their wings on any branch that might give them a clear view of a potential dinner. In my immediate view small ice-lined streams crisscross the roads every quarter mile or so with gentle swishing and gurgling noises announcing their presence.

When I finally turn onto Hyalite Canyon Road about 8 miles from town, the farms quickly fade away and are replaced by lodge-type buildings huddled around the banks of Hyalite Creek. I can’t see it yet, but I know it’s there from the subdued, if impressive, roar coming from somewhere behind the trees.

As I look straight ahead, my neck cranes to see the tops of mountain peaks in the distance. Smaller hilltops fill my near vision and offer their own wisps of intimidation. Somewhere back behind all this lays Big Sky, the resort village too costly for most friends here to ski. They seem to prefer Bridger Bowl. It’s the local favorite and only 15 miles from downtown. Another quarter mile down Hyalite Canyon Road and I find a sign disconcertingly hung directly over the permanent “Fire Danger” sign. It’s roughly conditioned 3’ x 6’ vinyl sheet that says plainly: “Studded Tires, Chains, Recommended," and then the bottom of the other sign still proclaims, "Today!”

I stop and take a photo with the sign in the background and my Schwalbe Marathon Winter studded bike tire in the foreground. I’m happy to comply with the recommendation.

Thus far the roads have been a mixture of wet asphalt littered with the occasional crusting of snow or ice. I grow to enjoy the constant “zzzzzzrrrrr” of the carbide studs singing on the blacktop. But I already feel the temperature dropping in the canyon, and the road responds with fewer and fewer glimpses of pavement. The next sign provides another warning of sorts, “No Passing – Next 9 Miles.”

Here I cross over a cattle-guard that stretches across the road. For the uninitiated it’s a horizontal row of steel beams buried in the ground with a void beneath. It’s designed to keep livestock from venturing beyond its gaping maw and the fence on either side. This is “Range Stock” land, where ranchers lease the rights from the federal government to let their cattle ruminate whatever might grow on this rocky soil.

Beyond the cattle guard the road narrows to one lane going up and another coming down, the shoulder disappears, and Hyalite Creek suddenly appears just beyond reach on my right side. Now the snow and ice create a few new sounds from the studded tires. The snow muffles them almost completely, but the ice has a completely different effect. This sound is more akin to dragging the back of a kitchen knife over a metal cheese grater. There’s more articulation in the rhythm. I think my friend Roscoe would be jumping off the bike to digitally sample these sounds for use in his recording studio. Their cadence and slowly changing dynamics help me pace the pedals as the road’s pitch quickly turns upward.

The road is now in the shadows of the ridge-line on either side. Here, it’s all ice. Sun soaked trees promise a warm greeting once I get to the top of the pass. I can see them occasionally as the road twists and turns, but that won’t be for another 45 minutes or so.

The cars passing give me wide berth, as they carefully make their own ways up the narrow pass. Some clearly have studded tires themselves, some do not. The latter will likely have a fun slalom of it on the way back down. Every once in a while a gaggle of young students passes by and screams encouragement out the windows. “Go dude! You’re doing great!” “Looking good man.” And even a refreshing, “There’ll be a warm PBR waiting for you at the top.” It’s nice to be in a community where riding a bike in a precarious place manages some level of respect.

The first few uphill miles go by easily. I learn to pick my line through the differing road crustings. Once I settle into one particular type or the other the ride is unremarkable. However, it’s the frequent transitions in and out of snow, ice, wet pavement, and loose icy gravel that are the challenge. Here’s where I can feel the studded tires make the difference. They bite into the ice giving a secure feeling. It’s worth mentioning what an extra level of confidence in such situations can do for your attitude. I also learn to use a tactic developed on icy city streets for staying upright. Rather than ever leaning the bike into turns or other direction shifts, I concentrate on shifting my weight while keeping the bike absolutely perpendicular to the road surface. This gives the best bite for the tires, allowing more of the studs to have constant contact with the road. It’s a very different, somewhat antithetical skill, and it works my abs and back much more than the traditional method of road riding.

About five miles up the pass the pitch increases again and I can feel my body settle into the work at hand. My thighs are burning and my arms and neck are tightening up. I’m just trying to turn over the pedals and stay upright at this point. Several times during this section I imagine the Hyalite Reservoir, (my goal,) is just around the next curve. As I get higher the Sun is visibly blanching the peaks of the range, and I fool myself into thinking I’m almost there.

Three miles later I’m laughing at myself as I slowly reel in the summit. It’s here somewhere dammit! Finally, the parking lot comes into view and the frozen reservoir beneath. It’s been an hour and thirty five minutes since saddling up. The area around the lake is teeming with activity. There are at least 50 people ice fishing, and hundreds just cavorting around the overlooks. Many of these people are simply having parties up here. Little gatherings perched on carved out sections of snow peering down on the lake.

I pass a busload of college kids who immediately recognize that I'm riding a fixed gear bike and they break out into hoots and hollers even offering to give me a ride back down the pass if I need it. One crew has beach chairs and they appear to be conducting a formal wine tasting…. fine glass goblets and all! For Bozemanites, it’s just another excuse to be outdoors on a gorgeous Sunny day in March.

A fisherman asks if I want him to take my picture, and I oblige. Then I chomp down a granola bar, and try to take swig of water. Unfortunately the temperature has dropped enough in the past hour that the bottle is frozen shut. It looks like an icy luminary, with a complete shell of the bottle visible inside. I rap the thing against my Trek’s frame and break it up. Keeping hydrated in the Montana mountains is no joke. I drink half the bottle and also realize my camera's iris is now frozen partially closed. I look at my watch and see it’s now ten before 5:00 P.M. “Gotta roll Bill!” I mumble to myself, and hop on the bike for the downhill run. In the fifteen short minutes since I hit the top, the Sun has gone down behind the mountains measurably. Everything but the very top of the west-facing peaks is in shadow. With the Sun goes any semblance of warmth and my hands immediately start to feel the sting.

I’m happily still very well connected to the road, even as I speed up in the straight sections of the pitch to 30 or 35 mph. I am catching up to some cars as they gingerly use their low gears to creep down the mountain. Now, more hoots and well-wishing from passersby, albeit mostly slurred at this point.

There are suddenly little ruts in the road, no more than an inch in height where the slush has frozen into razor sharp hills and valleys formed by passing car tires. These are extremely hazardous. I carefully settle both bike tires into the center of these being careful not to hit the edges. Sometimes no matter how hard I try my front tire falls into one, and I can feel the tension and stress careen up my arms. My body is at full alert trying to see, feel, and sense the slightest change in road conditions. About halfway down the mountain, as two cars pass – one from each direction - I try to move over as far to the right as I can and my front tire does a little Tango thing…. "step, side, slide, side, dip!" I over correct and in my struggle to regain control my left cleat pops off the pedal. This can't be good. A lot of the control that you get riding a fixed gear bike, (and I will say considerably more control than riding a freewheel,) comes from the contact with the pedals and, by nature, the rear wheel. But lose that contact, and things get dicey real fast. Purely by accident I manage to skid the rear wheel by locking up my right leg, while my left leg flails in the mid air, and wham I’m back in the middle of the road right behind the passing car. Whew!

But that proves to be the worst of it. I’m down the pass in less than a half hour, and home before six. What a great experience. I think the whole thing is a testament to studded tires. I paid a lot for the Schwalbe Marathons, about $70 each. This ride proved them worth every penny.

Don’t miss the mapping session recorded during the ride with my Blackberry Trimble/Allsport GPS software.

This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href='http://www.trimbleoutdoors.com/ViewTrip.aspx?tripId=353337&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;utm_source=embedmap'&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;here&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt; instead.

And the synopsis video I slammed together of the ride.

Trimble Outdoor's Allsport GPS for Blackberry

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 05:05:00 +0000

A few months back I downloaded a new app for my Blackberry. Called Allsport GPS, it's from Trimble Outdoor, the well-known GPS manufacturer.

I'd hoped to use it as a training monitor for road riding. In theory you would let it snyc with the satellites, then hit the "Start" button and ride. After you finish the ride, you hit "Stop," and it uploads your workout to a private website. The software promised to record an exact replica of the trip in map form compatible with Google maps and Goodle Earth. It would also record speed, distance, and altitude moment by moment for the ride. All for about $50 a year! With this I could forgo the expensive bike mounted computers and just keep my current Vetta. I always take my phone with me anyway, so it was a no brainer to at least try it out.

For the first few months I had difficulty getting it to sync tot he satellites. Trimble support was fast, but never got to the bottom of the problem. So I went frustrated last season. Then this January my Blackberry broke and I got a new one. Low and behold... the thing suddenly works.

I'll probably do a better review at some point, but wanted to report this right away. I rode 30 miles around Bozeman today and Allsport logged the entire journey perfectly. ... well almost. It clocked me doing 55 miles per hour at one point. I'm thinking that's not quite right.

Anyway, take a peek.

http://www.trimbleoutdoors.com/ViewTrip.aspx?tripId=349840

Road Ride in Bozeman February 2009

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 23:07:00 +0000

My friend John Friedrich took me on a great early spring road ride around the north end of Bozeman on Tuesday.
We pushed about 30 miles into the rolling foothills of the Bridger Mountains. The tour took us through rambling ranches and horse farms skirting the hills.

We each took our fixed gear bikes: John his Specialized Langster with a 42x16 set up, and me with my Fausto-Coppi set at 42x15. We had a ball on a beautiful spring day.

It started with a last minute message from John on my Blackberry and ended as any reasonable people would, on the bar top of a local watering hole.

In the middle, John schooled me on our first uphill challenge, then I finally caught up. In the process of tracking him down I screamed by a poor stunned dude on a geared thing. Vroom, vroom! Most of the ride was level, or gradually up/down. The scenery was spectacular.

See the Trimble Allsport GPS map of the ride here:
This site does not support embedded trip maps. View the trip here instead.

And be sure to catch the quick video of the ride at the bottom of the page.

Shipping The Coppi

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 04:04:00 +0000

I year or so ago I took my sweet all-steel Italian road racing machine and sent it off to Steve Bilenky at Bilenky Cycleworks in Pennsylvania. Steve and his crew installed S&S couplings and matched the original paint perfectly. The cutting and brazing burns the paint so they have to do a very difficult color-on-color match.

The bike came back from Bilenky in two boxes. One with the frame, the other with the new S&S designed plastic shipping box. Inside the box were a full set of custom sewn tube protectors. These are cordura nylon sleeves with Velcro closures that cover every exposed tube on the bike.

Also in the case were a set of four white pvc compression members. These are cut to exactly the interior dimension of the case height. You put them inside and they help provide support for compression impacts to the side of the case.

Lastly, and most importanly, there was a custom spanner wrench to tighten or loosen the S&S couplings. The couplings themselves are worth mentioning. They're aircraft grade stainless steel milled to exacting precision. Turning the couplings provides a satisfying confidence in their strength.

Anyway.... go to www.sandsmachine.com/ for more information. You'll also find a link there to Steve Bilenky's shop. He's the master at this. Many frame builders around the country send him their bikes to retro-fit couplings. He's that good! http://www.bilenky.com/Menu.html

Check out the six minute video of the whole process of taking down the bike and stuffing it all into the box.

Snow, Bikes, Snowshoes

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 03:20:00 +0000

Temps were right today, so I packed my snowshoes in my messenger bag and hopped on my bike. A half hour later I was across town at the old state hospital grounds in Traverse City. I shot some photos and video. Take a peek. There are two parts.

One for the ride, the other for the walk.

Point is, get out there. So what if its cold. Ride, baby, ride.

Steve Sando in Memorium

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 07:28:00 +0000

On Christmas Eve I got a call from my old friend Jay Holgate. I sensed right away something was wrong. Why else would he call at such a time? He told me that our great friend Steve Sando had passed away. Steve and I went to college together, roomed together, worked as broadcast journalists together, played music together, and loved each other as brothers. I will miss him so much.

http://memorialwebsites.legacy.com/stevesando/homepage.aspx

Winter Solstice Ride

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 02:05:00 +0000

A hearty dozen or so revelers met at Paula Anderson's house tonight, as is the tradition, for our annual Winter Solstice ride. (This year it was a day late, but who's counting?) Lots of fresh snow made the going a bit slidey, especially at the intersections, but everyone stayed vertical.

We moved at a slow pace around town, flashing our lights, singing carols and dinging our bike bells towards anyone who would listen.

It was cold, about 12 degrees F. We had one Bubba in a white pickup truck to the engine revving, spinning tires, testosterone pump, while we were heading west on Front Street. But otherwise not another glitch to the evening.

At the intersections the cross-plowed snow was piled up and chewed to the consistency of sand. A few people commented that it was like racing the Iceman when there's no snow, (or ice,) having to push through the dunes on the singletrack. Pretty much it means throttling up and pushing your butt back behind the seat so you can ride the front tire lightly.

Speaking of light, we were all lit up like the veritable Christmas tree. This makes for a jaunty, if not festive, appearance as we move as one crazily gesticulating group through the dark streets.

We rode a few miles, first through downtown, then through the central neighborhood, and finally back on a big loop to Paula's place for hot chocolate and Christmas cookies. Paula's gorgeous daughter Amanda was waiting there with hot chocolate steaming and cookies galore!

A nice tradition.

more pictures below....

The last three photos are from in front of my house in the Midtown Neighborhood. My bike is actually ON THE SIDEWALK. You can see the green street sign refecting on the left side. The snow movers piled the it up about 15 feet tall and right over the friggin' sidewalk.

The Drive-in ATM

noreply@blogger.com (LostGears) — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 07:13:00 +0000

So I'm out on the town tonight. Heading to the brewery where I'll eventually meet up with Admin and his entire family. Sorta makes me feel adopted. Lindsey and Andy are down from Marquette, a rare occurrence, so it's "git down to some good beers" time. This photo will surely get me dis-owned either way.

The Sweet custom beer mug is Carl's.

We're playing a die rolling game that Lindsey gave to Dennis for Xmas. It wasn't even a drinking game and we were getting pretty stupid.

On the way there I stop by the local ATM to get some cash. But I love this one. It's right downtown Traverse City at 5/3 (Fifth-Third) Bank. I hop up on the sidewalk, bump the front wheel against the left-hand door, grab the other door with my right hand and ride right in. Pull up to the machine, get my cash, and ride out the door on the other side. No need to ever get off the bike and beats the hell out of doing the same maneuver at the drive-through a block away in the cold temps and blowing wind off the bay. Simple pleasures ya'll. In this economy, we have to get them wherever we can.

It's a wobbly ride home, but I've got a smile on my face.

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