In the absence of actual new gear to unwrap and install, looking at and dreaming about new gear is a passable time-waster. If you’ve been wasting as much time as me, you already know about the new Shimano Dura-Ace 9000 group that’s in the pipeline.

What will it be? Well, it’ll be 11-speed. It’ll be lighter. It’ll be shinier, probably. And it will include BATTLE INJECTION DOMINATION.

Yeah, you heard it right.

Check out this link from Bike Rumor. Due to some pretty awesome internet translating, the new Dura-Ace 9000 group is loaded with BATTLE INJECTION DOMINATION (yes, it must be capitalized. PRO is capitalized all the time, but that’s dumb. BATTLE INJECTION DOMINATION sounds awesome.).

We all know it will be a precise, perfectly-functioning (probably) product, but really I’m more concerned with what it looks like.

Take the crank, for example. It looks like Shimano is going with a four-armed spider (wait, is it still a spider if it only has four arms?), which is how its XTR mountain cranks work. And that’s fine, I guess — Shimano knows its stuff in regards to aluminum work.

But what’s the deal with the offset arms? Are they for battle? And the brakes? They seem lighter than the current (and past) Dura-Ace. I wonder what kind of domination will come from those? For me, the battle is myself against … well, everything. There’s very little domination going on there.

Despite my high hopes for BATTLE INJECTION DOMINATION, the headlining feature will probably be the 11-speed cassette. I guess that would fit the injection bit — fitting 11 cogs into a spot that formerly held 10.

—

If you’ve been hanging out here for the past couple of months, you probably saw the whole fatbike brouhaha. I still think fatbikes are like the wacky, look-at-how-unique-I-am step-cousin of the cycling world. Sure, they have uses — fine. I get that.

But this Craigslist ad pretty much wraps up everything in a nice, tidy bow. It’s almost as if the owner realized he was building a dumb bike halfway through the buying process. “On second thought … maybe I’ll just go halfway — just to see what it’s like.”

The title for this ad should be “Fear of Commitment.”

—

If you’re in the mood to dig into an aero argument, check out the latest tech piece from Caley Fretz at Velonews. I’m on board with wheels, but I still think aero frames are one of the biggest cash holes out there. The most un-aerodynamic piece of the bike/rider package is you. Get slippery and you’ll go faster.

Wait, that sounded bad.

Of course, had I been present for the MCipollini-Giambenini-Gauss team camp in Italy a few weeks ago, I probably would have fared better. Team sponsor Mario Cipollini was on hand to give the ladies of his namesake squad a bit of guidance as they enter the season. Yes, Mario Cipollini, known for the sterling example he set while in the peloton.

The takeaway from the obviously staged team camp included an “I’m here to support women’s cycling” bit (which is very, very good), as well as a fairly humorous photo shoot. The funny part isn’t that Cipollini was there, it’s that these photos in no way made it look like he just happened to drop by one day during training camp. There’s not a candid shot in the bunch.

Some highlights:

“Come, dine with us!”

“You should eat breakfast. You know, for energy.”

“I had nothing planned for this presentation.”

“Yes, that’s it. Open the hip flexors.”

“It’s perfectly normal to stretch in full kit on yoga mats in a grassy field before riding. I did it all the time.”

“Yes, perfect! This is exactly how your sprint train should look!”

“In my biometrics training, I learned that the optimal amount of knee flexion, in relation to … uh … you know what? Just keep pedaling.”

Again, Cipollini isn’t dumb, and I have no doubt he has knowledge to offer this or any other team. But the idea of good old Uncle Cipo stopping by and going rider by rider on stretching, indoor-training form and proper nutrition is kind of funny.

Random link time:

• What, exactly, was Thor Hushovd defying, anyway?
• The stem on this rider’s new BMC should say everything you need to know about how relaxed the geometry is.
• Have time for a photo gallery with about 7 gazillion shots? Check out this look at a carbon bike factory.

With a few exceptions, I don’t watch bike races online. Though we live in a time of unprecedented access to sporting events, sitting in front of my computer at 8 in the morning and not getting paid for it ranks low on my list of priorities. I’m the exception here at Velogear. Most everybody else is all over this stuff.

Don’t get me wrong — I love racing. And for the big races, I’ll watch. It’s no coincidence that the big races are also the ones that actually look good online. NBC Sports’ Tour de France coverage was worth every penny last year. And I’ve generally found that the Tour of Flanders and the Giro d’Italia look good, too.

Everything else? Grainy footage yanked from some Eurosport feed and passed through a Ukrainian television transmitter. Sound cuts out, picture cuts out and — sometimes — the feed just disappears.

Besides, I don’t have to actually watch the races to see what’s going on — I have Twitter. If you follow the right people, none of whom are Taylor Phinney, you can keep an eye on the race without having to babysit a shoddy feed.

Take Saturday’s Milan-San Remo, for example. At 290 kilometers, it’s the longest of the “monument” classics. It’s also known as the “sprinters’ classic,” since it’s not the hills themselves that are difficult, so much as their placement in the race.

Milan-San Remo’s other alternate name is “The Most Boring Race in the World — Even Worse Than Paris-Roubaix.” It’s mile after mile of nothing, for hours and hours. Then, with 25K left, something finally happens.

And that 25K might be great, but it doesn’t make up for the previous 265.

So no, I didn’t watch Milan-San Remo this year. I did notice a number of gleeful “Mark Cavendish is getting dropped” tweets. For a guy who won it in 2009 and has shown good form this year, he did not have a good day.

But what I don’t get is the Cavendish hate. Is it because he’s the undisputed sprint king of his generation? Is it because he talks a lot? Is it because he’s a sprinter?

To cycling fans, the exploits of the classics hardman — Fabian Cancellara, let’s say — are far more honorable than those of sprinters like Cavendish. I get that — dropping the bunch with 30K left builds far more drama than dropping them with 30 meters left.

But it’s not like Cavendish is popping off and coming in second or third. It’s not like he’s Tyler Farrar. No, Cavendish is winning. If you’re going to chirp, at least be a winner.

Is it his perception as a whiner? Please. Half of Team BMC has been portrayed as whiners, and they’re somehow being showered with love.

Thor Hushovd? Complained about his team pretty much all last year. George Hincapie? Remember his 2010 Tour de France hissyfit? Cadel Evans? Until recently, a nutter.

All of those guys have whined and gotten away with it. So why not the guy who wins more than all of them?

The buzz during ‘cross season was disc brakes. “My next ‘cross race bike must have disc brakes! I need disc brakes. Better stopping! Better modulation!” and so on. Nevermind the fact that tires play a bigger role in cornering and stopping than brakes. We must have disc brakes!

As an example, think of the last snowstorm you saw. The majority of the vehicles in the ditch were probably four-wheel-drive cars and trucks. I’m sure their brakes were awesome, but without traction, they had nothing.

Now that we’ve hit spring, the disc brake discussion has moved onto road bikes. And it’s the same thing all over again: “Must. Have. Disc. Brakes.” I’ve seen a number of people tweeting and ranting about the whole being not about more power, but more control — better modulation.

For those who have ridden one of the top three groups from either Shimano or SRAM in the last three years, I ask you this: at what point have you found your brakes to be lacking so much that you need to buy yourself a whole new bike to get the performance you’re looking for? Do any of these groups, when properly installed and tuned, lack control and modulation?

I’ve ridden everything from Dura-Ace brakes to Tiagra brakes to SRAM brakes of different stripes. I spent my first two seasons racing a bike that had non-branded Tektro brakes. Never did I say, “Man, if I had disc brakes, I’d be such a better racer.”

What did make a difference was getting the right wheel-and-tire setup. Better grip in the corners, more confidence and no hands on the brakes. And riding lots. Racing lots. Neither of those requires a new bike … unless you wad up your bike in the process.

Besides, disc brakes for road bikes, for all intents and purposes, really don’t even exist yet. Sure there a few companies out there with jerry-rigged setups, but in terms of production-ready, let’s get this disc-brake bike built-style kits, there are none. It’s not unlike the long-threatened Garmin Vector pedal-based powermeter. First announced in 2009, it still hasn’t hit the market. This, after Garmin purchased Metrigear, its developer, and threw the heft of a much larger company behind it.

The current ETA is this summer, though past ETAs have included March 2012, fall 2011 and “sometime soon.” I’ll believe it when I see it.

As for the disc brakes on road bikes, you’re welcome to jump on board as soon as they’re available. You will, of course, have to ride something that looks like this:

Woof.

I’ll go ahead and use my money for things that will actually make a difference on the bike, rather than things that add weight and require new equipment that 99 percent of the shops in the country won’t have in stock when you really, really need it.

How’s that for more control?

The story on VeloNews was an interview with George Hincapie, centering on BMC’s ambitions for Paris-Roubaix. The first sentence:

George Hincapie vows to help his new BMC teammate Thor Hushovd at Paris-Roubaix and seems to have thrown in the towel on his own dreams of winning the Hell of the North.

“Hincapie vows to help his new teammate … .” One would hope so, don’t you think? Isn’t that kind of the point of having teammates? For help? Besides, what else would Hincapie do?

He is 38, and with the exception of one year (2005, when he was second) wasn’t ever a threat to actually win Paris-Roubaix. While I can appreciate his pursuit of the race like a crazed sea captain seeking his white whale, it’s long past time for him to give up the dream. (Much like I’ve long since given up  hopes of following in my uncle’s steps and being the World UNO Champion. Damn Draw Fours.)

At the risk of enraging the George Hincapie fan club, which may or may not be similar to enraging the fatbike community, I have to ask this question: How, exactly, did Hincapie gain rock-star status, anyway? Because, other than Gent-Wevelgem, the Tour of Missouri, a couple of national championships against second-tier pros, what’s he won?

Seriously. Is it the eternal Paris-Roubaix struggle? Is he the lovable sidekick, playing the right-hand man to Lance Armstrong, then Mark Cavendish, and now Cadel Evans and Thor Hushovd? As a racer, he’s one notch ahead of Levi Leipheimer in the excitement category, which is setting the bar very low. And personality-wise, he doesn’t have a ton of charisma — he says the right things and smiles a lot.

There has to be more to it than that. If you have any theories, lay ‘em on me.

—

If you’ve been following the Le Tour de Langkawi — and I know you have — you’ve been wowed by Jose Serpa of the Androni Giocattoli Venezuela team. He not only climbs magnificently, he has easily the most well-maintained facial hair in the peloton.

Look at that guy! Curly, jet-black hair, sideburns that look painted on, a trim goatee. Well done, Mr. Serpa. He looks like Marco Pantoni, except with hair — lots of it. And hopefully without the cocaine problem. And the being dead problem.

—

New Shimano Dura-Ace is coming soon(ish). Team Sky’s Alex Dowsett had a prototype DA 9000 group on his bike last week in Belgium. For better or worse, it looks like if you’re a Dura-Ace rider, you’re going to 11 speeds at some point in the future. Because I wasn’t riding when the 9/10 switch happened (I was running lots then), I missed out on the retro-grouch rumbling.

This time, I fully look forward to participating, mostly because I don’t want to change my stuff. I’ll be the guy who tapes together his 10-speed groups until they disintegrate. Eventually, I know I’ll have to switch over. But I’m going to resist as long as possible.

For all items except the last one, I get it (even if disc brakes on ‘cross bikes are dumb for racing). Those make sense — I can see the reasoning behind their places in the conversation.

But fat bikes? Really?

Why anyone — one lone person in the world — would want to pilot one of those things is beyond me. But to have them be popular enough have multiple websites devoted to the cause and to require manufactures to offer multiple models means there must be something to the whole trend.

Because, come on — fat bikes can’t be a dumb as they look, can they?

First, consider the cost: around $2,000. The Surly Neck Romancer Pug will run you $1,850 — or about the same as a SRAM Rival-equipped ‘cross bike. But unlike that ‘cross bike, for which you can find replacement bits pretty much everywhere, your fat bike requires special TLC. And most shops don’t have that kind of stuff.

Also, fat bikes weigh a metric ton. I saw a guy struggling to get up the slightest of rises on my neighborhood trail after the last snow. It looked like a ton of fun. And it was … for me … as I passed him on my ‘cross bike.

Next, let’s compare the utility aspect of a fat bike to a cyclocross bike. The fat bike is a very good choice for riding in the snow, due to the extra-wide tires, which create a kind of snowshoe effect. So, hey — score one for the fat bike!

Unfortunately, they’re as bad as any other bike in deeper snow. And when the snow is wet? Forget it. It’s like trying to push a car. (Photo stolen from Bike Rumor.)

A cyclocross bike, on the other hand, can cut through that same snow and probably do it faster. And since it has a tire more like a blade than, say, an oar, it can cut through wet snow too. And when you’re done with that, it can handle pavement or gravel duty with equal aplomb.

Fat bike? Well, let’s talk abut that snow some more. Maybe in places farther north — say, anywhere north of Minneapolis — they’re a solid choice. But if there’s no snow, this is not the bike you’d choose to go for a ride.

On a fat bike, 10 mph feels like warp speed. On any other bike in your stable, you’re probably doing 10 mph with one foot clipped in.

If the cyclocross bike is the Swiss Army Knife of cycling — able to handle whatever is thrown its way — the fat bike has to be the tiny knife that goes with the butter tray. It’s good for one thing only. Even triathlon bikes are more useful than fat bikes, and that’s saying something. My TT bike has been hanging in the garage untouched since July — the last time there was a time trial anywhere near here.

But clear pavement is pretty much a year-round thing, making the TT bike considerably more useful. That still doesn’t mean you’d want to ride your TT bike everywhere, but at least you wouldn’t get passed by that shaky old lady on her beach cruiser.

Though bike rides of all kinds are pretty fun, I can only hope that the industry forgets about fat bikes as the weather warms. There’s already plenty of “dumb” in cycling — I’m looking at you, long-promised-and-yet-to-be-delivered Garmin power pedals — we needn’t make it worse.

It’s mid-February and the professional racing season is nearly upon us. I say nearly because, though there have been a handful of races already, nobody really cares about them. Flat race across a desert with nobody at the finish line except the officials? Hoooo, boy. Sign me up!

If nothing else, the early season races are good for seeing exactly what each team will be wearing for the upcoming campaign. As always, some are better than others. And, as always, some are so god-awful they look your local club team’s “Photoshop expert” got hold of them.

I’ll detail the top 5 and bottom 5. You can assume that the teams in the middle are so boring they deserve only a cursory mention.

Top 5

Ag2R La Mondiale — Hey, I’m as surprised as you. Yes, this is the team with the brown shorts. But it also has a great color scheme — brown, white and blue work very, very well together. And about the brown shorts: Is it any worse than red, really? Or blue with orange tiger stripes? Or pink? No, it’s not.

RadioShack Nissan Trek — Sure, it’s a mash-up of the good-looking Leopard Trek team and the only OK-looking Team RadioShack, but the results are pretty solid. It’s still a clean look, though I could have done without the RadioShack wordmark jammed into the red stripe. But hey, bonus points for a sweet bike.

Team Sky — Black and white and blue. You’re going to see a trend coming up, but these guys are the ones who started it. Over the past two-plus seasons, this has been the Team Sky look, and it hasn’t changed a bit. There’s a lot to be said for being consistent. Plus, the black and white of the scheme looks awesome with Mark Cavendish’s rainbow stripes and Bradley Wiggins’ British champion’s kit.

Liquigas-Cannondale — Score another one for consistency. Though it’s bright as all get out, it’s a classic pro cycling look. Somehow.

Rabobank — The only thing that changes in the Rabobank kit is the pattern of the orange, blue and white color swaths. That’s what you should expect from the Dutch. Loud — but consistently loud.

—

Bottom 5

Omega Pharma-Quick Step — Two teams are jammed together once again. Omega-Pharma and Quick Step celebrated their union by essentially recreating the Leopard Trek kit from last season. Score one for creativity!

Team Astana — Yep, still awful. Baby blue and yellow. Sure, why not?

Lampre ISD — Hot pink and blue. Can you tell they’re Italian?

Team Katusha — Sure, the Russians buck the blue trend with red, but that … that’s a lot of red. Wow.

Vacansoleil-DCM — Somehow, they made one of 2011′s ugliest kits worse. And to top it off, they get new Bianchi Oltre bikes. That’s not the bad part — the bad part is that they’re not even done up in team colors. Where everybody else has a total “look” going, these guys look like they stole bikes from Jan Ullrich’s one-and-done 2003 Bianchi team.

—

Everybody else

Garmin-Barracuda — Blue and white and black. Boring. Argyle hasn’t been cool since 2009, anyway.

BMC — Red is eye-catching. But when combined with dark red and black it’s less so.

Euskaltel Euskadi — Orange and black. Always with the orange and black. And those helmets are god-awful.

FDJ BigMat — White and blue, yes, but at least the red part of it means it’s French. And that’s something, I guess.

GreenEDGE — They played it safe, that’s for sure. See that splash image behind this link? It’s RadioShack Nissan Trek with green instead of blue.

Lotto Belisol — I’ve heard a lot of people complaining about this one. No, it’s not awesome. This model is probably the problem.

Movistar — If you swapped the bright green helmet for a navy or white one, I’d be on board. But this? No.

Saxo Bank — How do you feel about blue? And birds?

—

These guys are as good as it gets in the pro cycling world. They should be dressed accordingly. But, unfortunately, they’re not. That said, wearing what we wear, you have to expect to look a bit ridiculous anyway, don’t you?

Or, basically, how do you feel about doping/alleged doping/getting fat?

And, despite my best efforts to summon a not insignificant amount of rage, I cannot. I just don’t care.

That’s not a reflection of my love dimming for the sport, or of weariness upon hearing yet another doping story. And it has nothing to do with the personalities themselves. I’ve never been a Contador fan, really. Armstrong had retired (the first time) before I ever raced a bike. And Ullrich? Sure, he was cast as the enemy, but he very rarely stood in the spotlight in the Lance era. He was harmless.

I just don’t care about the fates of these three riders. Or about doping in general, really. Sure, it’s a problem in cycling — but only in pro cycling. Where I race, in the Cat. 3 amateur level, doping is a non-issue. For that matter, the rest of the trappings of pro cycling are a non-issue, too: money, sponsors (though we have a few small ones), contracts, to name a few.

It’s about riding a bike for fun and fitness. For the challenge of trying to make that bike go really fast, even if your body says no. When I ride out of my garage, the state of pro cycling is not on my mind.

To be bummed about doping because you’re a cycling fan is fine, but I think that just means you’re ascribing too much weight to what you’re watching: They’re people riding bikes. They’re pretty fast, but they’re just people riding bikes. It’s entertainment.

If you’re a football fan, think of it this way: do you watch it for the purity of the sport? No, you watch it to see two guys plow into each other. Consider the lack of uproar over doping positives. In 2006, Shawne Merriman of the San Diego Chargers served a four-game suspension for a steroids violation. He remained a fan favorite and finished third in the NFL defensive player of the year balloting.

Spectator sports are entertainment, nothing more. They’re nothing upon which to place your faith or base your identity. And they’re certainly nothing that should dim your enthusiasm for a sport in which you can actually participate.

When you think about it, that’s probably why so many people get so bummed about doping in cycling: they know how hard it is to go fast. And when somebody takes a shortcut, it’s an affront to those who have turned the cranks in anger without resorting to outside assistance.

But take a step back and think about it. It’s disappointing as a fan, but does it affect your next ride in any way? Does it mean you won’t be able to take advantage of the next unseasonably warm day?

No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. Pro cycling is the exception in the greater world of cycling. It’s fun to watch, yes — of course.

But cycling is much more fun from the saddle, when rolling down your driveway. Your love for the sport, passed on to others, is the future of cycling — not some skinny, doped-up skinny guy climbing the Galibier.

Random link time

• Cyclismas is my new favorite (fake) cycling news site. Tyler Farrar’s scathing post-sprint commentary cannot be missed.
• SRAM unveiled its new Red group last week. In person, it’s every bit as cool as you’d think. And for those complaining about no 11-speed or electronic options: Do you really think you need that stuff?
• Nick Legan’s columns are a must-read on VeloNews. The rest? Meh.
• You know how everybody’s all “Pinterest this” and “Pinterest that?” Behold, the coolest Pinterest site of them all: Ours.

And it did:

As it turned out, that was the last gasp of winter. We were outside with regularity within a week. This year, it’s been so dry I can count the number of days I’ve been forced inside because of bad weather: one. That doesn’t mean it hasn’t been cold; that it hasn’t been windy. But you can dress for those conditions. Add more layers and get to it.

Really, the biggest challenge has been riding to work with more regularity. It’s early and chilly, generally, and somehow there always seems to be a headwind on the way home. But I’ve been doing it. There have been some cold, cold mornings. And, actually, there have been some cold, cold evenings, too.

But despite that, I’ve fallen into a nice routine. And there are others along my route in a similar routine. Half of my ride in is on one of Omaha’s paved recreation trails. It follows a creek that runs through the city north to south. There’s no traffic to speak of and it’s fairly flat, making it a good place to walk, run, ride or be totally oblivious to your surroundings thanks to your iPod headphones.

Each morning, I say hello to the same people — at approximately the same time and place — on the trail. They’re into their routine, too. It’s a friendly greeting — a salutation to a fellow traveler — and it takes one second. I typically arrive at the office happy, relaxed and ready to tackle the day. (Or, depending on the strength of the coffee, ready to tackle my coworkers.)

With the recent heatwave, the trail system — in the afternoon, at least — has been a lot busier. More walkers, riders, runners, kids, dogs (and a cat, for some reason) and people totally oblivious to their surroundings thanks to their iPod headphones. On the way home last night, I saw a few dozen riders in total. I nodded and waved, much like I do in the morning.

And I was almost completely shut out. Not a not or a wave or a grunt or any form of acknowledgment from any of them. Nothing until I came upon a fellow racer, who said “hey!” before I could even get my hand off the bar to wave. The rest of them? Not even a twitch.

Even the people who were totally oblivious to their surroundings thanks to their iPod headphones were more responsive than that.

Cycling is at its best when it’s a communal undertaking. That’s why my morning greetings make me happy — especially on the coldest of days. That’s why most of my weekend riding has been with a group. It’s way more fun that way.

Keep that in mind next time you’re out there hammering away. It’s only bike riding. There’s no need to be so wrapped up in your own world that you can’t offer a wave or a nod. I’d take a grunt even. It’s supposed to be fun. And it’s OK to say hi.

Random link time:

• Had Alberto Contador been sanctioned immediately, as he should have been, his suspension would be three-quarters over by now. But no — it’s still dragging on. And at this point, I really don’t care anymore.
• The Capo Padrone thermal jacket got some love from Bike Radar recently. You can buy it here — and it’s on sale.
• The men’s world cyclocross championships was, in essence, a replay of the Belgian national championships. More impressive to me, however, was Marianne Vos’ ride in the women’s race. He’s easily the most dominant cyclist in the world right now. She can win anything, and watching her dismantle not only the course but her opponents, too, is a treat.

I’ve heard it upon arriving at work and upon leaving work. I’ve heard it at hardware stores, grocery stores and — inexplicably — a bike store. I’ve heard it in hot weather, cold weather, rainy weather and windy weather.

I’m not alone — you’ve heard it too, right? And I’m not crazy, either. I’m motivated or dedicated or maybe, juuuust maybe, kinda tough. But crazy? No, I’m not crazy. I just like to ride my bike.

The latest bit of crazy talk came on Saturday morning. Chill north winds ripped through the day before, turning my “I’m leaving the office early for a few extra miles” ride into an “I wish I’d driven to work today” ride. The wind chill upon my arrival: 8. As in 8 degrees Fahrenheit.

Things weren’t much better the next morning, and after my wife walked the dogs around midday, she declared to me (and to our kids), that if my friends and I still planned on riding, we were all completely nuts. Insane. Crazy.

Because I’m not decidedly crazy, and because I now took that as a challenge, I kitted up and rolled down the driveway. The conditions upon departure: 14 degrees, but with a wind-chill factor of 5. Why? I don’t know — why not?

Both my buddy and I had all morning to think about it, so we’d each dressed in our absolute warmest gear. It goes like this: Grab all of the very warm things from your closet and wear them all at once. Put charcoal warmers in your gloves and shoes and heavy lotion on the exposed skin on your face. And then you’re ready to go.

We aimed for the nearest gravel roads on our ‘cross bikes,  hoping to stay hidden from the still-fierce winds among the hills and small groves of trees. And with the exception of two or three miles, it really wasn’t bad.

That doesn’t mean we were warm, though. It just means we weren’t frozen. My fingertips and toes got pretty cold in the last 30 minutes, despite my preparations. I suppose that’s to be expected, isn’t it?

We finished with about an hour and 45 minutes on the clock. And on the way back to my house we took a quick turn though some of the neighborhood singletrack — yes, my neighborhood has singletrack — for kicks. Why? Why not?

One cup of coffee later, we were planning the next day’s adventure. Crazy? Nah. In love with the bike?

Definitely.