Cycle Upper Left

Readying Eddy for "The Classics"

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 21:44:00 +0000

Tuesday, January 29th 2013 -- It was 58 degrees today, as I swung a leg over my ‘winter project.’ This quest began with an email from my high school bud, furniture maker, and Eddy Merckx bicycle devotee, Dan DeKoven. Long since trashed, I recall Dan’s email went something like this:

“Fausto, check out this Eddy Merckx Team SC bike. It won Paris Roubaix, and I like the paint job. The Lotto Domo and 7 Eleven paint schemes are kind of loud and cheesy in my opinion.”

The frame and fork Dan found on ebay was painted gloss black with white MERCKX lettering. Dan’s email hooked me, so I did a bit of checking on this bicycle.

The Team SC may have been the last racing design that the ‘Great One’ had a hand in before selling his bicycle company. Indeed, as Dan said, it won Paris Roubaix not just once but in three successive years!

In 2001, Dutchman Servais Knaven, Belgian Johan Musseuw, and Latvian Roman Vainsteins swept the podium frying the competition for Domo-Farm Frites.

In ‘02’ Museeuw piloted his ‘Frites’ Team SC to victory in Roubaix’s hallowed velodrome.

Then in ’03,’ another Belgian, Peter Van Petegem doubled at the Tour of Flanders and then Paris Roubaix.

Other victories include Richard Virenque’s scorcher at the ‘01’ Paris-Tours race and his 2002 assault and battery of the ‘heads of state’ up Mont Ventoux in a most memorable stage at the Tour de France.

Yes, this bicycle had provenance all right, and more than one blogger has sung its praises. Besides L’Eroica, this would be a celebration of my 65^th. Thus began the readying of Eddy for the ‘Classics.’

My second nudge from Dan was to purchase an official Eddy Merckx seat post (or ‘seatpin’ as he called it). Dan’s bike mechanic, Joe Hughes, found one.

Then, we began searching for wheels and components.

“Fausto, I don’t know about Sram (Apex), but I’d recommend Campy for this bike. You can rebuild the shifters.” Not intending to thrash and mash gears, Campagnolo and Eddy Merckx go a long way back and seemed a good choice. Campy’s 11-speed stuff is very pricy, and I’d be locked into their chains and cassette, so I managed to find New Old Stock (NOS) Chorus 10-speed shift levers and a rear derailleur plus a lovely Record front derailleur from an internet outfit in Springfield, Illinois.

Peter Naiman collects bicycles and is a fellow participant in the Classic Rendezvous lightweight steel bicycle inter-network. Peter recommended a pair of Planet X Ultra Light CNC brake calipers. They are very light indeed and easy to install. The toe-in was extremely easy.

Ron Mattson had a beautiful set of DT Swiss wheels at his Freeport Bicycle Company. Ron gave me a sweet winter year-end price on the wheels and a pair of durable Schwalbe Durano 25C tires. I also asked Ron if he might provide Sram’s super light XG 1090 10-speed cassette and an Italian threaded bottom bracket.

To pay for the cassette, I traded off purchasing Campagnolo's Chorus compact crankset for a FSA’s SLK model saving roughly 100 bucks and 100 grams.

Last Wednesday with much needed assistance from Bill Leibman, Eddy came together at the Freeport Bicycle Company. Ron arrived at 5 PM just in time to help me tighten a loose headset that can plague owners of Team SCs if not properly sorted out.

Technical details aside, I was now anxious to discover how this most lauded Merckx performs. Until today, the weather had been plenty cold and gritty, and Eddy was content to stay on the trainer. We had a two-hour window between the rain and so pushed off at 11 AM.

How do you turn a huge grin into words? This bike fits like soft kid gloves and moves like a silky black panther. On the pedals, the bike begs to be ridden aggressively. Relax, and the DT Swiss rear end emits a faint clicking unlike the annoying sound from my Madone’s Bontrager Race X Lite hub.

On the first climb, I shifted into the large cog and heard chain ticking. While tinkering with the downtube barrel adjuster, I realized I wasn’t in the lowest front derailleur position. Campy has five settings that allow you to trim the front as you shift up and down the gears.

Campagnolo’s shifters differ from Shimano’s two levers and Sram’s DoubleTap. It took time to get used to the Chorus Ergopower’s thumb lever, but I like the feel of the hoods and the Deda handlebars, which are especially comfortable when you drop into the lower bars.

Another very close high school buddy, Gil Gulbrandson, purchased a Sella Anatomica for his Waterford, and I discovered that the surface leather of this saddle is made in Elkhorn, Wisconsin.

It looks like a svelte racy Brooks with a large center slot. Check out their Butt Cam: http://www.selleanatomica.com/design/

Nuff said about that and my Sella Anatomica's white leather. With the bike on the trainer, I had some comfort concerns, but outside, I found this saddle extremely agreeable and supportive.

My first two hours outdoors were the beginning of what promises to be a long and enjoyable relationship with this historic racing bike. The Team SC is so steady and noticeably unaffected by crosswinds, which were strong today.

As I rode back along West Stephenson I flatted in front of Park Hills Golf Club. The rain held off long enough for me to change the tube. What better opportunity to get acquainted.

Bella Vacanza - Notes from L'Eroica

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Sat, 27 Oct 2012 14:15:00 +0000

On our way to Italy, we stopped at the lovely town of Marlenheim in the Alsace region of France. Bistro food reputedly was born in Alsace, and we were not disappointed. Flowers hanging from timber framed houses and buildings abound, and the beautiful Vosges mountains are the backdrop for tidy vineyards and enchanting villages of this region. This is heavenly country for leisurely cycling, and I hope we may return one day.

Then we spent two days in picturesque Bellagio, which sits splendidly on a peninsula surrounded by Lake Como and the mountains. Our quiet hotel was an old villa tucked away in the peaceful Pescallo section of town separated from the touristy bustle by at least 500 cobble stone stairs. Our balcony commanded a magnificent view of the lake and boats with mountains rising sharply into the sky.

On our first morning, I peddled up the 6-mile stretch of the fabled Giro di Lombardia pro cycling race. My destination was the shrine and museum of Madonna del Ghisallo dedicated to Italian cyclists. In the afternoon, Linda treated us to a ride in a handsome wooden inboard around Lake Como. Our Skipper, Luca, enchanted his passengers with lakeside stories and sparkling prosecco. The Lake Como area is spectacular cycling for stronger riders who enjoy climbing hills, and the road surface, unlike what were to experience in Tuscany, was smooth tarmac.

And what can we say of Tuscany? Like Bellagio, the afternoon sunlight dazzles, and the food and wine are incomparable. But the real enchantment are the people. We stayed at a B&B near the little village of Vagliagli roughly 8 km from L'Eroica's home base of Gaiole in Chianti. From the deck of their lovely swimming pool, we could see a stretch of the L'Eroica's 'strade bianche' (white roads).

Our B&B hosts embraced us as family. The first evening, we were invited to join our fellow guests from Norway for a barbecue as only Tuscans can do it. We opened with Francesca's crostini. She and her mom, Sara, had grilled eggplant and peppers for the occasion. Papa Carlo piled on the BBQ'd pork and sausages. Then came his enormous Val di Chiana T-bone steaks! Did I forget the Chianti Classico from the vineyard next door and the superb bottle of Brunello di Montalcino Carlo brought out? Then, Carlo poured out vin santo dessert wine and then his own special grappa? Mama mia! Linda and I packed ourselves upstairs leaving the Norwegians to party till God knows when?

L'Eroica opens with a two-day festa of vintage bici (bikes), bici parts, wool & bici leather apparel, and local foods and vini. It was remarkable to see so many younger riders and their families appreciate old bikes and the history of cycling.

At last, at '0 dark 30' on Sunday, the heroics commenced. On my drive over to Giaole, I passed a rider on his bike in the middle of nowhere. He had a L'Eroica number on his back so I stopped. Here was Greg, a carpenter from Seattle, on his way to the start in Gaiole, and he was riding there FROM SIENA! Greg gratefully accepted a lift, and I had a riding buddy for the 'O dark' start.

The first 'ristoro' (rest stop) at Radi was a mad house. I'd lost Greg in the shuffle and so continued on. The white roads were mined with chunks of smooth slate pavers and moguls of white gravel that rattled my teeth. I prayed my dear ole Trek 760 might hang together? I passed a few riders who flatted and wondered.

We rode in a crowd for the first 60 kilometers. L'Eroica enrolled close to 4,000 riders, and I was surprised to see so many out for an early start on the 135 and 205 kilometer routes. Riders bunched up on the 'strade bianche,' and we jostled for a good line with grip that wouldn't bounce us into others, or suck our front wheel into the ditch, or worse. It was an entirely new experience for me to be riding in crowds on roads like these. But everyone kept their cool and looked out for one another.

After 60 ‘Klicks,’ the 205 and 135 kilometer routes split, and suddenly I found myself riding alone. Was I off the course? Not yet, as I was soon joined by other 205ers on the way up the hill to the 'mecca' of Tuscan viniculture - Montalcino. This is a 15 by 15 section of strada bianca... 15 kilometers and gravel grades upwards of 15%.

I linked up with a landscape architect from Zurich. Alexander smiled at everything and was a delight to ride with. We grinned our way up the big 'strada bianca' climb to Montalcino, the highest point on the 205 km route. I was gassed but hopeful as we rolled through town over the top.

We flew off Montalcino on a wide smooth 'strada asfaltata' recovering our strength as we carved through turn after glorious turn. The 760 was lovin it. Alas, we entered another section of 'strada bianca,' but I was back to feeling chipper, and celebrated with a shot glass of Montalcino rosso at the Pieve a Salti 'ristoro.' Praise Madonna; Only 100 ‘Klicks’ to go.

We rejoined the 135 riders in the medieval walled town of Buonconvento and slugged our way north over steep stabbing hills to Asciano and Pianella. Riders were now off their bikes, and I fought for a good line with grip to get around them. "Scusa. Permesso piacere?" Then, "Merde!" My front wheel dug in, and now I was off the bike and forced to walk up. This was not a disgrace however, because L'Eroica is essentially a giant cyclocross course on skinny tires?

On the descents, the minefields of slate and moguls pummeled me about the neck, shoulders and arms. I squeezed the brake levers for dear life. As Italian hill walkers scorched the descents, I called out, "Scusa. Mi dispiace," taking care to stay out of their way and still avoid the minefields, moguls, and tire sucking bianca gravel. At long last, we arrived at the Pianella junction and gratefully followed the setting sun and permanent L'Eroica signs up towards Vagliagli.

This was a long steady climb that flattens out as it passes close by our B&B. Praise Madonna; it wasn't nearly as steep, but we were now joined by cars filled with Italians following their riders or out wine tasting on a fine Sunday afternoon. The road suddenly became an 'AUTOSTRADA bianca,' as flying dust stung in my eyes and threatened asphyxiation. I prayed yet again to the Blessed Virgin for Route 102 -- a 'strada asfaltata' leading into Vagliagli.

Linda and I had 7:30 dinner reservations at the sensational 'Taverna' in Vagliagli where we'd been on Friday evening. It was evident we wouldn't make that, so I stopped to tell them, but they were closed. I rolled over to the pizza parlor where we had had an apertivo on Friday evening to inquire if they might call the 'Taverna' to let them know we'd be an hour late.

"Certo. Non e un problema." The ladies at the pizza parlor and wine bar were so sweet and asked how far I was riding. I told them, "due cento cinque kilometri." Suddenly, everyone in the place saluted me with "Bravo!" and Bravissimo!" My chest puffed up, and I blew them kisses and pointed my dusty but trusty 760 down the hill towards Radda in Chianti.

This was a very long and steep strada bianca descent with several tight turns. But my Vagliagli fan club had cheered me on, and it was getting too dark now to worry about minefields and moguls. We were on the home stretch, so I eased off the brakes and let my ole Trek roll. Only two more big climbs remained, and they were on ‘strade asfaltate.' I visualized an attaccare, come ‘Spartacus’ Cancellara, on the last climb up to Vertine.

But during the assent to Radda, I realized there would be no attacking today. Legs were spent and my damned headlight flickered feebly at the dark. Throughout the day, I'd been encouraging my trusty 760 that if it could make it, so might I. We turned off at the top of the final climb and headed over to the sweet little village of Vertine on the last stretch of strade bianche. Young Italian kamikazes flew by with no lights. I wasn’t the only one juiced up for the finish.

We hung a hard left before entering Vertine and were finally on the home stretch of ‘asfaltata’ twisting and shouting our way down the darkened hill to 'Arrivo' in Gaiole. "All hail the conquering heros!" Three young Italian guys hugged each other at the finish. Their families cried 'Bravos.' A couple lads my age in historic costume exchanged dopo L'Eroica notes. I mounted the ramp, hoisted my magnificent 760 in victory for the photographer and walked down to collect my reward-- a hardbound book of fictional fantasy in Italian, a panforte, and a bottle of chianti classico.

But oh no! I'd forgotten where we had parked the car and spent another half hour walking and shivering my dusty bicycle and reward bag around Gaiole looking for it. Thanks once again to our Blessed Madonna and the remote key entry button for helping me find our Renault Megane.

I coaxed through the Tuscan countryside and arrived back at the B&B at 9 pm to hugs from Linda and our hosts Francesa, Mama Sara, and Papa Carlo. After a quick shower, Linda and I headed to 'Taverna' for a later-than-planned victory supper. That evening, as we sipped a delicious dark Nobile di Montepulciano Dei and savored the veal in chianti sauce. Glasses were hoisted with other L'Eroica 'heros' and we capped the evening with an angelic chocolate pear torte.

We'll have no vin santo or grappa tonight, however, but pinch me! Was this the test ride for heaven?

Wine and Mud – But Beware of the Pines and the Posts

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 20:53:00 +0000

I installed new Schwalbe Marathon tires on my Las Cruces cyclecross bike yesterday along with shifter and brake cables. For a shake down, I rode over to Trailside in Lake Carroll to pick up December's vino del mese – a bottle of 09 Pine & Post Merlot from Washington State. I arrived round 3:15PM, stuffed the bottle of vino in my backpack and headed out hoping to get home before dark.

On my way back, I decided to detour around the west and north side of the lake and hopped on Lake Carroll’s trail hoping to link up with Koch Road. Ron Mattson at Freeport Bicycle Company told me that Koch Road runs into the north end of Lake Carroll and links up with the trail. Before leaving home, I checked Google Earth and could just about make out that intersection.

Now, I’m on that trail, and the next thing I know, I'm riding down a super steep hill into the deep woods on a muddy rut with rocks as big as your fist. At the bottom was a creek, so I dismounted and hauled the bike over cyclocross style mud and all. I jumped back on and continued up the trail on the other side.

“Wait a minute,” said I to myself! “Was that farmer's lane I saw down there by the creek Koch Road?” Back down the hill I go through more mud, and up the lane. Now I'm pedaling through more ruts of soft greasy grass up a long hill for about a half mile.

At the top, I could see a house and prayed for a road. Praise the Lord! Koch Road! Needless to say I arrived home at 5PM with a big satisfied smile on my face. Wine & Mud are a great mix. Mountain bikes have their place too I’m sure, but not in my playbook.

Chilled Wine & Knotted Quads

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 14:48:00 +0000

As days shorten and cold winds blow, I return to gravel roads confiding in the image of a tough-guy.

This afternoon, the mission took us to Trailside General Store south of Lake Carroll to apprehend November’s featured special. Famous Fossil’s fruity ‘Traminette’ wine begs chilling, and an obliging wind blew like hell out of the southwest. On the outbound, we ducked alongside tree lines and traversed hillsides – anything to dodge la brezza tesa.

We beat our way west along Hershey and Loran Roads then came about on Carter and Zier Roads to Trailside. West of Route 73, Hershey Road rolls smoothly into forested hills. Then, it goes gravel and descends gently into the Val de Loran.

The low sun burned my retinas. With one hand on the bars, I used the other as a visor and squinted around my puffy glove at the surrounding views from this beautiful road. In a flash, I thought, "should we abandon the vino and cruise back home on this glorious afternoon?" But, a thirsty tough-guy shouted “press on!”

At the bottom, I turned left on Loran Road and looked up from the handlebars to a huge heat-seeking buck in hot pursuit of amour. Then a second doe flanked me, shot across my path and soared over the fence on the hill above. Freeze-frame!

I was now in earnest of expiring daylight. It was 4:00 P.M when we arrived at Trailside. I stuffed the ‘Traminette’ in my backpack and ran for home with the wind in my sails. Time trialing on a cyclocross bicycle is rare, but darkness was fast upon us.

Rather than duck back on gravel along Loran Road, I stayed on Bolton for speed’s sake praying that a sleep-deprived grain-truck driver wouldn’t collect me on his bumper. The notion of wine and broken glass exploding over cold chrome nearly conquered the knots in my quads.

At last, we arrived at the top of the hill near Chateau Chang. Greatly relieved, I looked over my left shoulder above the speckled ember tree line to the close of a magnificent sunset. An intense ribbon, orange as my Las Cruces bike and Patagonia shell, glowed against the deep clear azure heaven above.

Here was an opportunity to celebrate the sublime -- pain, fear, and nature’s blessings. Regrettably, I had the wine but not a glass and a corkscrew.

Early Monday Morning

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 20:09:00 +0000

Riding at 8:30 AM on Monday in early November is early for me (period). But Jilly used here charms to draw me out into the cool morning and the prospect of more gravel roads.

We’ve had very windy days of late, but today was still and crisp. I gently pressed the big BMX pedals on my Trek 760 happy I had gone back for my down gloves.

We met along Becker School Road and headed west along Loran to Maple Grove Road. We turned and rolled south to Butts Road and followed that west across Route 73 to Lott Road. Then, we were north on Lott to Walgren and east through Pearl City following Block Road back to Maple Grove, Loran, and Becker School Roads.

This morning, the gravel roads were kind to our skinny tires. The harvest field equipment and grain trucks have flattened them down. Now, let’s hope the township road commissioners leave them as is until spring.

Halloween into November

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Sun, 06 Nov 2011 18:32:00 +0000

It’s Halloween, and I look up from my ride at burnt umber hills tufted in deep flat red—the only remaining leaves hanging on oak skeletons. For the first time in a year, the cold is biting my toes. Grey skies filter precious sunlight and long shadows. Winter is barely more than a month away, and I’m thinking of what was accomplished around our family during this cycling season.

The season began with our two grandsons, Luca and Massi (short for Massimo) learning to ride on two wheels. Massi was first—the personification of fearlessness. A week later, Luca ditched his training wheels. Our older grandson is more cautious but still fiercely competitive.

In mid-June, I picked up a vintage Trek 760 in Denver. “Back in the day,” the only feel was steel, and all were made in Waterloo, Wisconsin USofA. Joe Dadez and I overhauled it at the bike shop, and I’ve been riding it joyfully since.

In late-June, we held our Tour for Cancer and netted over $2 Grand. Abbracci to our riders from Freeport’s ChainLinkCyclists; our GOATS neighbors to the west; and the super folks with Robbie Ventura’s Vision Quest organization who again drove all the way out from Chicago to ride with us and support our Cancer Center.

November 1, 2011 – Indian Summer is back for a day. We’re in the 60s and our sunlight has returned. I soak up the vitamin D dazzled to see yesterday’s drab oak leaves sparkle like rubies.

Summer flooding in Pleasant Valley obliged us to be dazzled by gravel along new roads between Route 78 and Massbach Ridge. Yesterday, Bill Leibman joined me in another ride of discovery. We rolled north off Elizabeth Road on Route 78 and flew with the wind down the hill. At the bottom, we turned left on Old Galena Trail and continued north eight miles on this beautiful scenic road.

Neither Bill nor I had been on Old Galena Road. Thanks to the flood that closed the Plum River bridge at Bethel Road and Hwy 78, we now have a new loop in our repertoire. So far so good for November 2011.

Gravel Dazzle

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 15:16:00 +0000

Often we ride by roads and wonder where they go. A map is just a direction and a tease of what might be. The question won’t be answered until we turn off our familiar roads and explore for ourselves. In the Upper Left Hand Corner, gravel roads are plentiful, and something besides skinny tires may be helpful—especially as we tilt upwards.

I had been making a list of these roads in my head during the past couple years. Jilly Whiting introduced me to many above and around the hamlet of Loran. Last Saturday, we joined forces with Andreas Ruppert from Galena’s GOATS Cycling Club and covered 32 miles over everything from deep muddy ruts to Fiat gulping chuckholes on Hairpin Road.

This Saturday, I planned to park at Massbach Ridge Winery and ride west and north. Alas, I arrived there without my cycling sandals. VivoBarefoot shoes do not work well on Speedplay Frogs, so we aborted that plan and returned to Freeport for correct footwear.

Thereafter, nearly an hour and forty minutes behind schedule, I devised an alternate route from Loran that could take me over uncharted roads in the hills west of Pleasant Valley. From there, we’d continue west over to Hanover then return through Massbach and Pleasant Valley to Loran.

Once again, the Salsa Las Cruces cyclo-cross bike clad with Schwalbe Marathon tires seemed the only logical tool for this excursion into the unknown.

Today was sunny in the low 60s. I forgot about the delayed start and looked forward to riding into the light and shadows of late afternoon. Here is my recap of roads not yet travelled:

HEADING WEST OUT OF PLEASANT VALLEY: We turned west off Hwy 78 on Goodmiller and then left on Beck Road. The we quit the valley up a very sharp but PAVED hill, turned left at Good Hope Road and rode southwest across the high farm fields to Elizabeth Road. Along the way, I slowed to assist a young couple lost and looking for Massbach Ridge Winery.

HEER TO CURTISS TO GAMBLE HILL: We first did this leg in mid-winter over snow covered frost bitten gravel where we met a hunkered down peacock on the roof of a barn. Today, we encountered two lost souls on skinny tires at the bottom of Curtiss Hill steep and piled up with loose gravel. These pleasant lads were riding overland from Hanover to Savanna and thought the paved portion of Gamble Hill Road might offer a good short cut.

This is certainly a very scenic option. It passes by mysterious Lake Fitzgerald serenely tucked away in a valley. Although, skinny road tires are ‘pas utile’ here. I imagine they were obliged to walk the bikes up to the top of Curtiss Hill.

RETURNING FROM HANOVER: Steele Road lies just outside town as you begin a big 13% climb up Hanover Road to Rocky Water’s Vineyard. We rode north following the Apple River until Steele turned away east across the valley. Soon, we were sitting back in the saddle grinding our way up to Pleasant Hill Road. From there, we rolled leisurely on beautiful Reusch Road capped by a paved climb up to Derinda.

LIEBERT – LOVE IT OR LIEB IT: This road is paved as we descended eastbound to the creek at the valley floor. From there we jogged right and left on rude gravel willing our way up and up and up again to Massbach Road. If you have climbed up to Massbach on Skene or Bethel Roads, you can only imagine what it is like to do this on fidgety limestone.

BACK TO PLEASANT VALLEY ON THOREN, GOOD HOPE, GOODMILLER & KNAPP: The shadows were beginning to lengthen as I turned east off Massbach on Thoren Road. Thoren falls leisurely until we met a steep tight slippery hairpin left turn. We then continued north and immediately east on Thoren up the hill to the intersection with Good Hope Road. Here, we turned right on Good Hope then left on Goodmiller. Good deal!

We followed Goodmiller easterly straight into a left turn on Knapp Road. The afternoon sun shimmered across Pleasant Valley. Released from gravel’s grip, I dropped precipitously down to Route 78 on real tarmac. Here was the grand finale to our expedition this Saturday!

RETURN TO LORAN OVER HAIR’PIT’ ROAD: We followed Willow Road back to Loran via Hairpin, Goldmine, and South Loran Roads. Along HairPIT someone had scrolled the name and phone number of a guy named John. No doubt, John is the township road guy. I wonder if John is a collector of auto and bike parts which he nips off with his cavernous chuckholes.

Cycling in the Wind and the Chill

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 18:59:00 +0000

While many cyclists are shutting down their season or are waiting inside for the next swell of Indian Summer, a few of us are still out there braving the chilly wind.

What’s our secret?

First, we crave fresh air and abhor cycling to nowhere indoors. Then, we dress for comfort.

Cheating the wind and keeping warm and dry are our mantra. Layering and wool are our pals, and marino wool is preferred for its softness. Wool wicks moisture, so we wear that marino close to the skin. A company called Craft also makes great underlayments-- like a high neck pullover with a wind breaking front panel.

Then we pull our long sleeve jersey over the top. As the thermometer dips, we wear a vest over our long sleeve jersey. The vest breaks the wind around the chest and lets the sweat out the back and underarms.

Keeping our head warm keeps the rest of us warm. When it dips into the 50s, we don a soft wool cap beneath our helmet. In the 40s and below, we pull on a helmet cover to keep the wind out.

The howling wind can cause tinnitus and temporary insanity or worse. We prefer ‘Ear Bags’ to earplugs. The Bags keep ears warm and attenuate the rush that drives us nuts and prevents us from hearing vehicles approaching from behind.

Wool socks keep our toes comfy into the 50s. Below that, we pull on booties to cheat the wind. In winter, we buy toe warmers for a buck a pair from Farm & Fleet or Menards and stick em on our wool socks beneath our tootsies.

A light cycling glove works great down into the mid 40s. Below that, we pull on lightweight wind proof mittens over our gloves. We don't care to be texting while cycling in winter. We really don’t want to be texting while cycling period.

If we’ve forgotten anything, drop us a line. Just remember: Fresh air’s the thing, and indoor cycling is boring.

Finally, if we must hang up the bike, because we simply cannot cope with the wind and the chill, we don’t hang it in our unheated garage. We hang it in the warm dry basement. Otherwise, we’ll be visiting the bike shop next spring to replace a rusty chain and/or other moving parts.

Oro Strade Bianche

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 13:46:00 +0000

We are in the midst of a wonderful Indian Summer. It is early October. L’Eroica riders are pedaling their vintage bikes over hallowed roads in Tuscany, and it is time to refine our handling skills on familiar and unfamiliar gravel roads around the Upper Left Hand Corner.

In the past we’ve written about the Glories of Gravel in Jo Daviess County, but this week, we stick closer to home. We discover that gravel roads take on the personality of their caretakers—the township road commissioners who maintain them.

These surfaces can very greatly given the material used and the attention given. A finer grade of top limestone can pack in nicely and be very tame indeed. We even rode our old ‘83’ Trek 760 East on Lamb Road to Farwell Bridge Road. We returned to Freeport on Maize Road and had an easy time of it with 700 x 23 Vittoria Rubino Pro tires. The Rubino Pros look more like a 25 diameter tire. They are very quiet, grip well, and are extremely tough—a good road tire on well maintained oro strade bianche.

We had an entirely different experience along Block, Silberman, Raders and Heitter Roads. The size of the gravel material is simply too large and has not compacted even months after the top surface was laid down in the Spring. These roads were barely passible on my cyclo cross bike and would have been a chore even on a my Trek 7000 mountain bike.

The township commissioner responsible for those roads is either unfamiliar with how to prepare and maintain a gravel road surface or just plain stubborn and sadistic—maybe both.

Nevertheless, we continue to ride our oro strade bianche (golden white roads), because they are sparsely travelled and scenic. Also, we can capture a bit of the heroic of L’Eroica right here in the Upper Left Hand Corner of Illinois.

Circle the Vineyards 2011

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Thu, 29 Sep 2011 14:50:00 +0000

I pulled into Galena’s Recreation Park half expecting to ride solo in this year’s “Circle the Vineyards”. The weather was hardly promising, but the 100 kilometer tour of wineries around Galena, Illinois would commence as scheduled.

This year, we invited riders of vintage steel bicycles to replicate the epic L’Eroica tour in Tuscany. We even made up a trophy—a steel lug welded to a spoke stuck in a walnut base. My 30-year-old Trek would be the only steel bike on this year’s “Circle”, so the trophy presentation will wait for another autumn.

Happily, as the 10 AM departure time drew near, Andrew and Bill arrived with their carbon fiber Treks, and after a quick photo shoot, we were away through town en route to our first winery twenty miles to the south.

To get there, we evaded the traffic along Blackjack for roads less travelled through Irish and Batey Hollows. These are hallowed roads in pastoral valleys where wild turkeys trot around the cattle.

We were obliged to tackle a very sharp 18% ascent on Irish Hollow. Without proper gearing we would have been off the bikes quicker than you can say Sram. If you plan to ride out here in this drift less corner of Illinois, remember to bring a small chain ring and a big rear gear.

Our reward at the top of the climb was a grand ridge-top roll along Rocky Hill Road. Our pace was civil, and we were treated to splendid Mississippi overlooks evoking Albert Bierstadt and Thomas Moran.

After a 14% grade above bucolic Hanover, we arrived at Rocky Waters Winery. Of our three wineries, this is surely the most picturesque. From the tasting room, you can look through a spreading oak across the Mississippi Valley to a wildlife refuge on the Iowa side.

In 1997, the Spahn Family planted vines in the cow pasture and began growing grapes. After four or five years, they were selling their produce to wineries like Galena Cellars and Wollersheim. Their winery opened a year before we rode our first “Circle”, which was three years ago.

Bill bought me a glass of their semi-dry Lakeside White and himself a slightly sweeter Log Cabin White. Andrew held back for Massbach Ridge but helped himself to a handful of Mrs. Sipps spiced almonds.

Rocky Waters reminds me of Elk Cove Winery in Oregon with its old oak tree and big view. This winery certainly inspired our “Circle” ride.

Our next leg to Massbach Ridge is eleven miles. We detoured north off Hanover Road on Pleasant Hill and took Reusch Road over to Derinda. L’Eroica covets their famed white limestone gravel roads (strade bianche) in Tuscany. Lovers of old bicycles come from around the globe to join Italians in their celebration of these historic roads and heroic racing in days past.

Reusch Road begins with a stretch of gold limestone road (oro strada). After a mile, it turns to chip-seal and rolls through a high meadow before descending into a capacious valley, which cradles a pleasing farm owned by the Sullivan family.

We arrived at Massbach Ridge Winery to find their grape stomping party in progress. Andrew was ready to treat Bill and me to a taste. Megan Block was delighted to take his nine bucks and pour us each a glass of vino bianco. Massbach Ridge’s crisp semi-dry Seyval really takes the edge off a dusty bike ride.

While we sipped, a friendly visitor from Ohio took our picture. She and her husband were part of a vintage Triumph sports car rally. The warm hospitality of this winery makes it a great destination. This is certainly a reflection of its owner, Peggy Harmston.

Alas, we passed on the grape stomp but grabbed a bunch each of concord and marechal foch. It was time to fill water bottles and push on to Galena Cellars twenty four miles to the north.

Our third leg of the “Circle” took us through Woodbine into the Apple River valley to a short section on oro strada on Grebner Road. From there, we ascended Hoffman Road to Elizabeth Scales Mound Road and were joined by lovers of chrome, leather and V-Twin power.

This country is made for weekenders on Harleys. Their “Circle” is much larger than ours, but double digit climbs and oro strade are off their map and happily so.

After a couple miles, we turned left and screamed down Rawlins Road, through Guilford back up Ford Road. After yet another 12% ascent, we crossed busy Stagecoach Trail and shot down the hill to Galena Cellars. There we saw enough parked cars to fill the lot at the Brookfield Zoo.

With a twinge of agoraphobia and a taste for that other beverage, I beckoned the lads ahead to the General Store at Council Hill Station. At long last, we could sit down, stretch out and trade viniculture for hops in a bottle.

By unanimous vote, we are renaming our event “Circle the Vineyards, & Have a Beer!” Council Hill Station is indeed a comfortable hang out. You are instantly treated like a regular once you discover the reach-in beer cooler. Then you can kick back and be entertained by local musicians, including the owner, Jamie, who used to run a tavern up in New Diggings.

Be warned of passing freight trains though. We were told Council Hill Station sits alongside the longest continuous railroad grade in the US, and trains may need to be divided to get up it. So where's the respect for pedal pushing drift less hill climbers? I can tell you this; we certainly did not fancy climbing back up to Stagecoach and prayed we wouldn’t have to shift our bicycles between moving freight cars.

Thankfully, the ethanol tankers passed by in short order, and we were up the hill on our final leg of the “Circle”. After a dip through the Galena River valley, the grand finale of our "Circle" is a long blessed descent on North Council Hills Road.

This year, we were a tiny band of brothers. But the weather and train parted before us, and we made new acquaintances with vintage sports cars, purple feet, and a harmonica.

FYI you cycling statisticians: my Garmin showed: 67 ¼ miles; averaging 13 MPH; and 5,300 feet of climbing.

DeLauney Delight

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 14:14:00 +0000

I have no idea if Boris Delaunay’s triangulation theory has anything to do with the ride characteristics of a bicycle frame. Perhaps you “math wizards” would care to comment?

I had not heard of DeLauney until consuming a few beers on a roof top bar in Ann Arbor in the company of a gentleman who was math gifted, an Olympic class fencer, and a brilliant conversationalist. He was working to apply Boris’s work to the stress analysis of a computer generated solid model. Well, enough of that.

I have been preparing for our “Circle the Vineyards” tour around the wineries in Galena and Jo Daviess County. The inspiration for this event is the enchanting and rigorous bicycle tour through the Italian Tuscan countryside. It is called L’Eroica (heroic), and it rolls over pristine white gravel roads or Strade Bianche.

L’Eroica obliges its participants to ride only steel bicycles made in 1987 or earlier. Shifters must be on the down tube, and clip-less pedals are not permitted. The heroics are in the hearts of gracious folks who get their vintage bikes up and down the hills wearing woolen cycling outfits of days gone by. L’Eroica celebrates that old roads and old bicycles should never die but be always there for us to enjoy.

And so, on this spectacular afternoon, of 15 settembre, I set forth from Stockton to shake-down of my old 1981 Trek 412 for our “Circle” tour.

We were bound through Elizabeth via old friends like Brown, Pleasant Hill, Reusch, and Skene Roads.

In preparation, we modified the 412’s gearing for the serious undulations. The original Silstar crank set with its 42 tooth small chain ring was relegated to the parts bin. On went Sugino’s compact crank with only 36 teeth. Our expectation was that six fewer teeth would significantly reduce the grinding of our own dentures and knocking of knees in the hills.

Our first test was up the hill to Massbach Ridge. To my great astonishment, the 412 jumped to the climb like a Labrador pup to a lake. Pedals turned freely considering that we also retained the services of the 412’s original six-speed freewheel and its 30 tooth sprocket.

The next phase of the shake-down was to test the sturdiness of the 412s frame. This commenced, as we plummeted off Massbach Ridge on Bethel Road. Again, my admiration for this old Trek swelled as sure as you can cry “Ishiwata 022!”

Up Bethel we went to Brown Road and up again to stunning ridge top views before dropping into Woodbine. From there we contended with a very rough and torn Woodbine Road on our decent into the Apple River valley. Again, the 412 proved steady and safe as houses-- its old Dia-Compe brakes keeping things in control.
As we rolled along Apple River Road, the harvest was in progress, although one wonders what yields will come of it. Another serious flood this summer slimed the cornstalks and spewed gravel across the road surface. Nevertheless, the 412 pedaled along comfortably up to Elizabeth.

We entered town by the old fort, crossed Route 20 and continued out the west end on Pleasant Hill. Turning south, we tucked into some really bold rollers before hitting the hell of the Hill. Nevertheless, my old Trek steel bike continued its climbing magic.

Last year, I installed a longer Nitto stem and their sensational Noodle Bars. The stem is formidable and the bars are so ergonomic— a positive addition to the 412’s solid feel.

Speaking of ergonomics, the Brooks saddle Bill Leibman sold me off his Waterford touring bike was blessedly comfortable. The way we test a saddle is to ride it on hard roads for more than 40 miles. Admittedly, fit, level, and bike frame make a difference, but they are constants in this inconstant design of fabrications per il fanny.

Once on top of Pleasant Hell, we took the first left on an unmarked gravel road heading east. The road forks in about a quarter mile, and we stayed to the right on Reusch Road. When the gravel turned to chipped seal, I stopped to have a snack in the sun. The air was warm and hushed disturbed only by my chewing the granola bar. I crunched quickly and was again at peace on a beautiful road.

Reusch Road descends through the forest into a lovely bucolic valley. I rounded the corner passed the Sullivans’ farm-- the 412’s mischief factor greatly enhanced by Nitto’s bar and stem and the big flat RMX pedals. I simply stood my weight on the outside pedal, pressed down with the inside hand, and around she went tight as a trout on the line.

At the next corner, I could hear barking and see tails wagging, but they were well back off the road as I spun past up the long hill. The climb continued in earnest up Derinda Road. At the crest, I turned back east on Skene Road for another rush through the woods.

I thought of my friendly Butterflies (Jilly & Colleen) and our near miss of a deer when we last flew down this hill. Skene Road runs through yet another scenic valley and climbs steadily back up to Massbach Ridge for the run into Stockton. There are days when you don’t want it to end.

On Saturday, we’ll do a full dress rehearsal of “Circle the Vineyards.”

The Country Seat

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 21:46:00 +0000

I'm feeling more at home on my dear old 83 Trek 760, thanks to a great new country seat.

Long have I lusted after a Stella San Marco Regal saddle. Typically Italian, it incorporates those classic buttons of a Brooks without looking clunky and overweight. Regrettably, the $100 price wedged itself between my fanny and the Regal.

Ahh, but then I ran into Nick Ginster at the Heartland Velo Show last Saturday. Nick owns a company called Fyxation, and he designs and markets cool products for the BMX and Freestyle dudes. To my great delight, Nick also has a saddle which looks surprisingly like the Stella Regal.

Nick's classic button saddle may not be quite as graceful looking as the real Regal, and it doesn't come with titanium rails. And the likes of Greg LeMond, Tom Boonen, and Stijn Devolder haven't ridden the Fyxation Classic Button.

But Nick's saddle was mine for a special Velo Show price. The classic button is a dead ringer for the real Regal. It is also clad in real leather. And most importantly, I have discovered that it is very very kind to me bum.

ABBANDONATO Schwinn Tiger.

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 23:30:00 +0000

SCOPERTO (Discovered) in the front yard of Lance & Judy Barney.

DORMIRE (Sleeping) as a yard ornament near the Barney’s garage for two years.

RINNOVATO (Renovated) To new luster as a bespoke towne n beach cruiser.

We pulled the Tiger from the hostas and tore into it with WD-40 and my Milwaukee reciprocating saw. The stem was rusted through the head tube, so we sawed it off. The rest eventually came loose thanks to WD and a hammer.

We scoured the frame and then reprimed and finished from a can of Rustoleum's Hammered Metallic Verde Green paint. Other than the frame, nearly everything on this bike was beyond saving. Truth be told, I did have the crank arm, cloverleaf chainring and seat post clamp rechromed, but we'll save those for another project.

We painted over the white background on the head badge with metallic copper to give it that "beach" accent.

In all, about 300 bucks worth of new crank, chainring, bottom bracket, chain, wheels with Shimano built-in three-speed and coaster brake, tires n tubes, chrome fork, stem, handlebars with ergogrips, and a smart looking tan Bontrager saddle. Whew! Restoring an old bike isn't cheap. But we now have a one-of-a-kind beach cruiser to auction off for our community college's foundation.

Ooo, forgot the sweet flat peddles. Whether you ride in town or on the boardwalk, this Tiger will turn heads-- especially with your white standard poodle trotting alongside.

Alas, please take a step back as you admire the paint job.

Our thanks to Joe Dadez, at Freeport Bicycle Company for his collaboration in this renovation.

Also to Checkered Flag Auto Body and Troy Pukoj for a professional clear coat finish on the bicycle frame.

Day at the Bike Shop Sorting the 760

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 21:44:00 +0000

On Friday morning after a thirteen hour drive from Evergreen, Colorado back to Freeport, Dave stopped at Freeport Bicycle Company to have Joe Dadez look over the vintage Trek 760 roadie he purchased from Bob Barones in Denver. This was a Fathers’ Day Purchase to last a lifetime, or at least through L’Eroica in 2012.

Before leaving Evergreen, Dave sought the good counsel of his boyhood pal and steel bike fan, Dan DeKoven. He also had time to look over some Campy jewelry in Dan’s parts bin, meet Dan’s two grown sons for the first time, visit with his lovely wife, Margaret, and enjoy a superb supper, good vino, and a soft bed afterwards. Oh, did we mention riding Dan's 94 Eddy Merckx up High Road to a stunning view of Mount Evans?

Dave and Dan concluded that the original racing blue paint was in pretty good shape. So eventually, Dave will remove the old decrepit decals and replace them with new.

So what did Joe and Dave accomplish at the bike shop?

Joe used his handy tool to straighten the bent rear derailleur hanger, and then he straightened the derailleur pulley wheel cage to keep it out of the spokes. Joe trashed the worn 7-speed freewheel and installed a 14-28 tooth 6-speed Shimano made in China along with a new drive chain to the proper length. Dan suggested Dave's old knees would favor having the 28 teeth on the hills.

Joe changed both brake cables and housings, and Dave cleaned up the brakes and pads.

Together, they cleaned and greased the Stronglight headset, and Joe tightened it for a smooth action.

Dave trued the front wheel and Joe the rear. Joe’s was truer. Then, Dave cleaned the wheels, rotated the tires and added new tubes. This lightened the bike considerably, as Former-Owner-Bob had injected green slime into the old tubes to avoid punctures and delays to his daily commutes.

Dave cleaned and greased the Cinelli stem repositioned their Giro d'Italia handlebar and the non-standard but very comfy Tektro brake levers. Now we have a sweet flat feel over the bar and hoods. We also like the look of how the drops parallel the down tube. Finally, Joe finished it all with beautiful silver wrap.

Dave cleaned and greased the LaPrade seat tube and replaced the non-standard ugly ( & too small) saddle with an Italian made-in-suede Turbo, which looks appropriate on this bike.

Now the 760 is solid and slick shifting, and what a sensational ride. At last, we have a superb Trek steel bike Made in Waterloo and another satisfying “Joe n Dave” collaboration. And thanks to Dan & Margaret for a lovely afternoon and evening in Evergreen, CO.

https://picasaweb.google.com/106097685508719356454/Trek760?authkey=Gv1sRgCKGCwrPPscqlnQE

The Krape Park Bridge Lives!

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 19:12:00 +0000

We’d like to thank all those who helped keep the Krape Park Bridge open for foot and bike traffic. It is such a handy way to get into our lovely park from the neighborhoods on this side of Yellow Creek.

During the terrible flood last year, we walked over to gasp at the high water at least six feet above the bridge deck. We were even more anxious to see a large tree wedged against the west steel span. When it survived that assault, we knew we had one tough bridge.

The Krape Park Bridge is a classic “Pony Truss” design and is registered on the Bridgehunter.com website.

We have cycled over the Apple River on a longer three-span “pony truss” bridge on Georgetown Road just north and west of Elizabeth. That bridge was erected in 1890, and was eligible for the National Register of Historic Places. Sadly, the great 2010 flood took that bridge out.

These old structures are fast disappearing from our landscape. Many have been replaced by newer decking or have succumbed to ravages of age, flooding and neglect. We’re so pleased that the City and the Park District have chosen to try to preserve our sweet old bridge as a charming entry point to Freeport's most beautiful park.

Raleigh Cool Single Speed

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Sat, 14 May 2011 19:27:00 +0000

The Raleigh Record conversion to a single speed is done.

Three years ago I was in Freeport Bicycle Company talking to the manager, Joe Dadez, about a single-speed conversion project and asked Joe if he had anything interesting he wished gone from the basement. Up came a vintage mid 70s Record.

The Record was Raleigh’s entry-level road bike, so there was little need to preserve the entire package. Also, the frame had serious road rash, because this Record had been across the USofA three times.

Moreover, the lemon yellow and black paint scheme did not suit my English bike. It simply had to be British Racing Green.

So we repainted it BRG with a stealth charcoal metallic accent on the head and seat tubes and the fork blades. I had to use a pin to dab the red and black paint into the head badge. This was a shaky business, and the damned green paint proved prone to chipping.

So the steel frame and fork is all that remains. The rest were either: (A) purchased Additions or (B) from Bin parts on hand. I’ll hit only the highlights.

I love the Sram brake levers (A). They feel great beneath my hands just like the Force shift levers on my Madone.

The Biopace 42 tooth chainring (B) was inspired by Sheldon Brown. Sheldon was an exemplary authority on the bicycle, and he was perfectly correct. Biopace is how to drive a single-speed bike. For more on this, check out Sheldon’s Bioplace page at http://sheldonbrown.com/biopace.html

From my first-foot experience, peddling from a standing position on flat peddles is so much easier with Biopace. Your feet don’t pop off the peddles at the top of each stroke.

Now what you can't see in the photos is the magnificent Phil Woods bottom bracket (A) that compliments the Biopace to give the drivetrain its silky smoothness.

Other main components are Nitto handle bars (B) and stem (A) and the Tektro brakes (A). The Mavic MA 40 wheels were purchased used from Joe along with the Shimano 600 headset gimmie which is tight as new. It was remarkable the 600 headset threaded onto the Record's fork tube.

In all, this was an excellent collaboration with Joe who has helped me on a couple other conversions. Thanks, Joe.

Eureka L'Eroica

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Tue, 15 Mar 2011 02:16:00 +0000

When I shared a Vimeo video of L’Eroica with a good friend, he suggested I might rather ride a three-stage tour in Wisconsin if I wished to rip my legs off.

With all due respect to our more competitive riders, here is my answer:

Those who ride in L'Eroica must ride steel bikes built before 1984 with down tube shifters and no clip-less peddles. 11-speed electronic transmissions on carbon fibre bikes need not apply.

Those who ride L'Eroica sport kits like Fausto Coppi and Gino Bartali. Wool, not spandex, is de rigueur. Even modern helmets—though extremely important for safety—appear out of place.

L'Eroica's routes are over white gravel roads -- strade bianche. The Triple Crown no doubt is all tarmac.

L'Eroica is one stage only -- but one may choose grand 200K route to fill the day.

L'Eroica is a "happening." Triple Crown is a race.

L'Eroica is in Tuscany. Parma ham n cheese come from over the Apennines maybe 50 miles away, and the chianti is picked, pressed, aged, and bottled locally. Need we say more.

Ci vediamo a Gaiole in Ottobre 2012.

Lusting for the Feel of Steel and Other Substances

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Thu, 03 Feb 2011 02:21:00 +0000

I am continually enchanted by my Obsidian Blue Madone 6.5. Technology moves beneath me in a sensuous telepathic groove every time I throw a leg over and with every stroke of the peddle.

But, alas, when I swing, straddle and roll upon my sweet ole revamped Trek 412, or the rescued Giapponese Sanwa that strayed into my life, I’m all smiles.

Thanks to Bill Leibman (who also owns a Madone 6.5), these simple diversions on old steel bikes have become—well—how can one convey the appeal of what today are turned out only as works of art?

The answer came when Bill pushed me on to Robert Penn’s "It’s All About the Bike" where he chronicles his pursuit of happiness on the ultimate road bicycle.

And so, as we approach 65 aboard our glorious Trek carbon fiberology, we find ourselves still yearning. Perhaps, if you play piano, it is like striding Gershwin over the ivories of a Bosendorfer grand yet unable to quench a thirst for the Steinway just beyond your hands.

We ushered in 2011 with former teammate and dearest high school friend Gil (too close to Norwegian) Gulbrandson and his gracious wife Debbie (Don’t you dare refer to Indiana University as U of I, or I’ll kick you till you’re dead.).

As the New Year approached, Gil introduced me to his Victrola, along with a memorable collection of big band music, and his Waterford bicycle.

Hold it!

Did I say WATERFORD as in custom bicycle built in what was formerly Schwinn’s Paragon custom bicycle facility in Waterford, Wisconsin?

Gil’s Waterford is a light and lithe late 1990’s set-up, which our dearest high school buddy, Dan Dekoven discovered for him on “ebag” (sic.) for less than the cost of a entry level Trek street bike.

Dan creates lovely fine furniture and passionately restores old steel bicycles in Evergreen, Colorado. As I lifted Gil’s Waterford off the floor, I became instantly connected, and immediately emailed Dan and to ask why he hadn’t thought of me.

Little was I prepared for what transpired after that:

January 2nd, 2011

Dan: “I just acquired a 1994 Eddy Merckx Century frame on ebag (sic.). Paint is rough but frame is straight and rust free. Not too shabby for $280. Hope to get it built up by spring as I have most of the components left over from previous bikes. "Hello, my name is Dan and I'm a bikeaholic..."

Dave: "My God. Why am I missing these opportunities?

Perhaps I’ve been slow at the trigger, lacking in Ebay Savvy, and, yes, because I spent nearly $5 Gs on my 6.5 Madone not 1.5 years ago. Now I suffer through Bob Penn’s book and have for some time been transfixed by the work of an extraordinarily gifted artisan named Dave Wages of Ellis Cycles.

Now back to Dan and his 94 Merckx."

Dan: “I have a mixture of new and used Campy components for the Merckx - Chorus brakes, shifters and headset; Nitto stem, bars and seatpin; Veloce compact crank; new Athena11 speed derailleurs that my friend the bike mechanic said will work with 10 speed; and my Campy Proton wheelset. This is my 4th Merckx and I've regretted selling the other three - especially the MX Leader, which was #98 of the last 100 produced, so will probably hold on to this one. They hold a certain mystique for me... This one is definitely used, so has character.”

Dave: "Has Dan gone off the deep end? No, he is just really detailed passionate about bikes. In fact, when we rode the Santa Fe Century together last May, Dan was straddling his Waterford that he found on “ebag" (sic.) The color scheme is a bit unctuous, but, beneath the paint, it is a lovely bike nevertheless.

We continued our dialog after my dumbfounded concern about the headset on my own restoration of a Raleigh Record—something we’ll chat about later."

January 25th, 2011, expounds January 2nd’s conversation.

Dan: (Dave’s translation of Dan’s tech lingo) “I have the gruppo together. It's a mixture of various Campy components: Record (not Raleigh but Campy as in Campagnolo) headset, Centaur BB, Veloce compact crank, Chorus 10 speed shifters, Veloce 13/29 cassette and chain, Chorus brakes (Centaur, Veloce, and Chorus are all Campagnolo creations.), Nitto (Non e italiano ma Giapponese) seatpin, bars and stem, and new Athena (Campy also) 11 speed front and rear der. (derailleurs) that my bike guy says will work fine with 10 speed. Some new and some used off ebay or parts I had lying around. Bike mechanic just prepped the frame and I treated it with Framesaver before. I'll get it from him on Thurs. and sand out the rust spots before touching it up with Testor's (the company which makes paints we used to use on our model airplanes as kids). We'll probably put it together pretty soon before he gets busy.

By the way, another great resource that my riding buddy Greg turned me on to a couple years ago is www.probikekit.com. They're Brits (funny fellows with funny accents who are wild about anything remotely mechanical) and have the best prices (probably only in Pounds Sterling) I've found with free shipping all the way from England. The only hang up is that they ship via the Brit equivalent of Parcel Post combined with all the new tighter shipping regs. (homeland security provisions) due to package bombs (Brits take very seriously those who skulk in from the colonies not intending to play fairly by the rules of cricket.) - so it generally takes about a month to receive your order.”

Dave: "Gracious sakes alive. I cannot wait to try this Merckx out. Danny, I’m breaking off early from Linda’s family reunion in New Mexico and coming up to ride this re-creation.

Now, we move deep to absolute bottom of bicycle riding psychology. I temper my translations of Dan’s male anatomy jargon trusting that cycling adults will get the point."

Dan: “I see that you got a used Brooks for your vintage Trek. (This was a gift purchase from Bill Leibman who found the lovely leather too soft.) I'm a Brooks convert - currently have four of them. My only complaint was that, unlike modern saddles, there’s no accommodation for your balls on most models.”

Dave: “Wait, Dan. Are there accommodations for one’s balls on any saddle—Brooks or otherwise?”

Dan: “Actually that's not my only complaint - they take forever to break in. The B17 Imperial addresses this with a gonad cutout. I traced it and applied it to my other B17's and my Brooks Professional. I found that it definitely helps me. I'd be glad to send you a pattern and directions if you encounter a case of numbnuts (I don’t ride my 412 all that much and definitely don’t ride it more than 20 miles.). I also gave the Brooks Pro the Sheldon Brown treatment. Do you know about him? He just died, but was perhaps one of the most knowledgeable bike people around. He suggests soaking Brooks saddles in neat’s-foot oil (Mon dieu! I mistakenly thought it was motor oil). My bike guy and many other experts say this is not advisable (Admittedly, since Brooks provides their saddle softening lubrication) , but I like the results.

This is the kind of bicycle minutiae that the dudes at classicrendezvous will go about forever. I'm hooked. It's a nice diversion from the harsh reality of trying to survive as an artisan (Dan’s furniture is on a level with Dave Wage’s bicycles. These are two great artists and craftsmen.). At some point I hope to free myself from this attachment to the material - but not yet...

Don't get me started. Have they hung Lance Armstrong yet?”

Dave: So there you have it. We shall forever love and miss Sheldon and love to hate Lance. The allure of steel is and will be with cycling lovers until the Apennines come tumbling down.

Hard Lessons

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 17:50:00 +0000

Last week, we received word that Richard Nicodemus was stuck and killed by a truck on a rural road east of Orangeville.

After his retirement from Kelly-Springfield tire company, Richard was smitten by the bicycle bug and became the aerodynamic recumbent protege of Tyger Johnson.

Richard was a soft spoken rider and always in a delightful place while he rode.

It is hard enough when fellow riders crash and are seriously injured as was Chuck Garrett last summer. Loose gravel on pavement at the bottom of a hill was Chuck’s demise.

At Richard's visitation, Chuck told me that while his wife, Janis, was in for knee surgery, Richard visited with Chuck as he was recovering in the room across the hall. That was Richard exactly.

Fellow rider Paul Heitz was sideswiped on Pearl City Road a few years ago, gravely hurt and very nearly dispatch from this earth. Bones were broken and a lung punctured. Paul was laid up in hospital but today is back on the road as active as ever.

Adam Schultz was returning home on Park Boulevard when a careless person blew the stop sign at Park and Empire and threw him up on her windshield. She had no insurance and little remorse. I guess Adam made her late for an elective college class. Adam’s surgical repairs are ongoing.

Peter Flynn was struck from behind in broad daylight by an elderly lady. She was so distraught that she nearly backed over him. Later, Eric Walser said the same lady brushed him, whereupon he chased her down and gave her a severe tongue lashing.

These close encounters are terribly unsettling but death is too final, and the only person who can say what really happened is the driver of the truck which killed Richard. He is Peggy’s neighbor and is taking it quite hard and will most likely live in a dark place for the rest of his days.

Riding bicycles can pose hard lessons. It is easy to lose our focus for self preservation as we drift into riders’ rhapsody. So our joy of riding begs a certain amount of circumspection.

I write this in the company of jazz pianist, Bill Evans, playing his “Re: Person I Knew.” It is thoughtfully haunting-- typical of Bill’s compositions.

In and Out of the Canyon

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 00:56:00 +0000

Packer fans are chomping their brats after soundly biting the Falcons beaks last night. And while the Bears were ripping out the talons of the Seahawks, I was pointing my cyclocross deep into the cold wild country where, as Yoda Yonda would say, “the owls screw the chickens.”

I’ve ridden through but never out of Apple River Canyon State Park. This seemed like an excellent place from which to explore new roads between Stockton and Apple River.

It was 16 degrees as I parked the Blazer in the lot. I lifted the Las Cruces out the back and began adding layers over my Craft tee and merino V-neck-- a hooded jersey followed by a fleece lined nylon vest, and finally my Patagonia lined ripstop hunters-hold-yer-fire orange shell.

Then, toe warmers to socks and booties on tap; puffy down gloves; and warm woolen cap. These are a few of my favorite things.

I rode east out of Apple River Canyon Park to Fiedler and turned south. After about a block, as Fiedler turns right, I continued straight ahead on Kupersmith Road. Kupersmith is paved down into the valley to the intersection at Rush Town Road.

“Let dogs delight to bark but not bite for God hath made them so.” A pair of honey furry golden retrievers trotted along side on my approach to Rush Town.

At the stop sign just across the little bridge, it was straight south up a very abrupt incline. After tackling that, I rode flat and curled back east to Rush Town Road along Kupersmith and Chelsea Roads. Several creeks run together chiseling solitary hollows around this loop.

Back at the intersection of Rush Town and Kupersmith Roads, we might have ridden straight ahead on Rush Town over to Canyon Park Road. Instead back turned north on Kupersmith up the hill past our fluffy tail waggers to Fiedler Road. From there we reached over to Canyon Park Road.

Circling back into the Park, we crossed the bridge, and turned left. My GPS measured 17% on the climb out of the canyon. On top, Canyon Park Road eases its way west to Broadway Road.

For years, I have passed by the south end of Broadway Road. On a whim, I drove it in the Blazer the Friday before and was delighted at my discovery. Broadway runs from the village of Apple River southwest and terminates at Townsend Road just east of the Boy Scout Camp.

After a couple easy rollers, the road dips into a quiet coulee and rises steeply out the other side around a corner near the Bonjour Farm. I was impressed with the grip of my Schwalbe tires and was pleased I had listened to Bill Leibman’s lesson on tire rotation.

In the next quarter mile the coulee converges with Apple River Canyon, and you look down on either side through tight naked woods expecting a buck or buckskin covered Boy Scout. In fact, I was close a place where people practice orienteering to build teamwork and leadership skills, and perhaps mix it up with the Scouts. It was tough terrain on a bicycle but I preferred riding on frosty gravel to trudging through the thick forest.

I squeezed the brakes down the hill to Townsend Road and approached my turnaround at the entrance to the Scout Camp. After slowing for a lady in a dirty cream Chrysler I came about. Alas, I cut handlebars too short. The snow clogged rear tire met the cold hard pavement, and, BANG, down I went. All the mummified layers failed to cushion my left shoulder from the fall. I prayed for my rotator cuff as I climbed back up Broadway and made my way back to the Park.

Maybe I should take up snowboarding -- eh, maybe not.

412 Revival

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Fri, 28 May 2010 17:44:00 +0000

This week, Joe Dadez and I revived my ole Trek 412 purchased in 1981 by yours truly.

The Brooks saddle came from Bill Leibman who just couldn't get used to it and graciously sold it to me. A new seat post makes for friendlier more comfortable adjustments.

Speaking of comfort, I took Bill's advice and installed Nitto's "Noodle" handlebars and their longer stem. Fresh brake levers permitted us to wrap the cables into the handlebars with Bontrager's simulated leather tape. The cocoa tape and honey brown saddle colors don't quite match-- yet.

The original Michelin tires still held their pressure, but to avoid flatting on Freeport's livelier streets, we installed new Bontrager tires and tubes.

My Vibram Five Fingers and Terra Plana "barefoot" shoes grip well enough over the MKS RMS Sneaker peddles from Rivendell.

Now, it's time to look for some touch-up paint. Master painter, Jason Sanchez from Milwaukee finishes Dave Wages' fabulous Ellis hand-built bicycles, and he suggested using Testors' model paint. Jason's good advice echoed that of my ole "geezer" buddy, Dan Dekoven, who rode his lovely Waterford with me in this May's Santa Fe Century.

Twenty Something Again

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Sun, 25 Apr 2010 21:05:00 +0000

This winter, I made a New Year’s Resolution to maintain some familiarity with hill riding in our Upper Left Hand Corner. On January 16th, we explored ghostly rural roads between Massbach Ridge Winery and Hanover. On Sunday, the 24th, we revisited “Twenty Something,” a route we blogged last May.

Twenty Something begins and ends at the Salem UCC church just up the hill from the Slurp n Burp in Loran. We named it Twenty Something, because there is something close to a twenty percent assault twenty something miles into the ride.

This January, we were in forty degree wool piercing nearly dreary “sun please appear” weather. A southwest blow squelched the tinnitus in my ears as I rode into the stately Val de Loran towards Mount Carroll.

In Carroll County, I happened to look over my left shoulder to see an ominous looking earthen dam holding back Lake Carroll. I turned back to the road ahead and instinctively quickened the tempo.

Then, a deep baritone growl invaded my conscious. Glancing down through the handle bars, I was horrified to see water gushing over my tires. The peddles now turned in great earnest as I struggled to keep my rims above the rising water. This was now a race to get out the valley before being swallowed by the deluge.

Then, miraculously, the water vanished, and I remembered the possible side effects from the Analox antibiotic I was taking for a pesky sinus infection—“hear voices, see things, or sense things that are not there (hallucinations).”

Relieved, I ascended the west wall of the valley and pressed through the wind to the corner at Meyer’s Road. Now, the blow barely hissed in my left ear as I rolled through the hills and valleys of one of the loveliest roads in the Upper Left.

Meyers Road is unique, because it doesn’t follow through or cross perpendicular to the valleys. Like the path of a great mogul skier, it takes an oblique path sliding over the dales. And so, you receive a different perspective of the surrounding hills and woods.

I confess to being cheeky about a certain training camp in last May’s blog. Only recently did I learn that Blackwater’s facility trains law enforcement people in special weapons and tactics with an emphasis on tactics.

Mark Marti opened my eyes to how critical this kind of training is to preserving our freedom from fear and intimidation. Mark is recently retired from Freeport’s Police Department, and he shared his experiences as a volunteer officer for the United Nations security force in Kosovo.

There he received several letters of commendation for bringing down some truly bad guys without so much as shot fired. While producers of movies and television sell heavy armor and gunplay, real law enforcement strives to shield innocent folks like you and me from becoming innocent casualties of desperate gunplay.

Mark’s experiences echoed stories I had heard from a former Captain of the New Mexico State Police Narcotics Division. While the Cohen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men may be gripping in its entertainment, it would be refreshing to see a factual treatment of the hours of training spent by those who keep us from harm’s way?

Always grateful for a tail wind, I pressed up the 20 (something) percent grade on East Loran Road. A sweet looking lady in a shiny new Chevrolet Traverse rounded the corner as I crested the hill. She gave me the look like, “wherever did you come from?” I don’t believe she was an Avalox induced hallucination.

Finally, it was all down hill to Loran past the Slurp n Burp tavern to the little church and the heated seats in my trusty slightly rusty Blazer, Ruby.

Byrne's Bicycle Diaries

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 15:05:00 +0000

In his book, Bicycle Diaries, David Byrne circles his feet over his peddles and writes about cities he has visited around the world.

Santa Fe, New Mexico is as close as I’ve been to urban cycling. Even the central plaza in peak turista season seems a quiet neighborhood compared to Byrne’s experiences in Berlin, Buenos Aries, Istanbul, London, Manila, New York, San Francisco, and Sidney.

Although they impinge with all manner of vehicular and pedestrian traffic, Byrne finds these places worth seeing from the seat of a bike. Several cities, like Berlin, Paris, London, and New York are actively promoting bicycle use with special lanes, creative racks, and short-term rentals.

Recently in Paris, I saw locals in business attire straddling loaner bikes. Renting from Velib is as simple as swiping your credit card and plucking one of their bikes from the rack. Peddle into the Parisian traffic, and if you persevere for thirty minutes, vous payez rien.

I found Byrne’s socio-cultural, artistic, and, yes, musical commentaries thoughtful once we got through the Bush Bashing. This “Talking Head” has his views and is not bashful about bringing them along on the bike. But can you think of a better place to talk politics?

The author closes with a discussion of urban planning and future travels along the streets in his home town, New York City. He peers over the horizon where technology and legislators promise to curb automobile driving freedoms in Manhattan. And what will become of urban cycling if rallies like Critical Mass “cork” in the paths of others? Will we jeopardize control of our bicycles? More of that later, and permit me to digress.

The first time I saw the New York City was on a bright Saturday in my “72” BMW 1600. Riding shotgun was David Lipp, a fellow Army classmate who was born and raised in Chicago’s near north.

We emerged from the Holland Tunnel and drove into an empty financial district not yet shadowed by the World Trade Center. Then, only stately Trinity Church stood guard over Wall Street. Lipp and I waived off a proposition from una Madonna della strada and walked over to Fraunces Tavern where General Washington bid farewell to his officers. On the way, we passed Delmonico’s Restaurant, when a ghost appeared in my imagination. It was a cigar smoking Samuel Clemens eating sautéed sweetbreads.

Back in the Bimmer, we headed north on Lafayette where Midtown’s congestion swallowed us whole. I had driven in downtown Chicago but had never experienced anything like this cacophonous gridlock.

Lipp was a huge astronaut groupie and worshipped adventures in Outer Space. His eyes grew wide, and he cried out over the din, “I can’t believe they live here.”

Even after reading Byrne’s book, I tend to agree. Permit me to paraphrase Walt Whitman:

“Take your Manhattan streets with its powerful throbs, beating drums and the endless noisy chorus.

Give me fields where unmow’d grass, fresh corn and wheat grow and serene-moving animals teach content. Grace me with solitude and glorious hills as I cycle the Upper Left-hand Corner of Illinois.”

Call of the Wild

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 03:35:00 +0000

I confess I have never read Jack London’s classic. How could Buck (a dog) be “called” from sunny Santa Clara to the greed-fed violent frozen emptiness of Alaska?

January had me hoping for a little sun and light winds to explore a few rural roads that caught my attention while glancing over the Galena & Jo Daviess Road Guide. When I “Googled” these roads, I discovered Fitzgerald Lake, which lies just below a long 15% climb up Gamble Hill. And so on Friday, as I drove back from Woodbine along well cleared Brown and Bethel Roads, my hope became a calling to the wilderness.

On Saturday, winds wheezed, and the predicted sun merely peaked through the foggy frost as I swung a leg over my Salsa Las Cruces at Massbach Ridge Winery. Massbach and Derinda Roads were clear as a bell, but what would we find on Heer Road? Ice? Slush? Slop? All three?

The air nipped my nose as I turned off S. Derinda Road. To my great delight, the surface of Heer Road was chip sealed with a just a dusting of snow, salt and sand.

Curtiss Hill Road was gravel but hard packed, and Las Cruces’ Schwalbe tires gripped with confidence as I descended into a hushed valley. Halfway down, I stopped to photograph a barn and met a Peacock clinging to the peak waiting, as I was, for the sun to show itself.

Around the corner, I turned left on Gamble Hill and soon was riding along the north shore of Fitzgerald Lake. At last, the sun appeared to punctuate a particular solitude and mystery which only occurs in the hoar frost of winter.

There is a story about the ghost of an Indian chief which appears around the lake in early morning. I shifted down and commenced climbing in ernest through dark woods up the steep hill to Hanover Road.

During warm easy June cycling days, we sometimes take nature for granted. Only in January when we scarcely have a day or two together can we say we were truly called.

Centurion Candidate

noreply@blogger.com (Upperlefthand) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 17:13:00 +0000

Just this week, I engaged in an email debate with a dear friend edited as follows:

Dave, please circulate. I am in Colorado. Liebman may be interested, Rick Long and others. http://www.centurioncycling.com/

We've been talking about this, Lyle. The admission fee is pretty steep as I recall. We can have more fun on our Tour for Cancer Century and the Cercle les Vignobles for a lot less $ ($150 for the 100 miler) and raise money for a good cause instead of lining the pockets of organizers outside our community. Nevertheless, we'll pass it on.

Certainly this is a race not a ride.

No kidding?

It is patterned after similar events in Italy. For anyone with a few competitive juices this should be investigated.

Lyle, our Cercle les Vignobles is patterned after the L'Eroica epic event in Tuscany. http://www.eroica.it/index_en.php Come ride with us around the Galena wineries, and we'll keep your heart rate at a competitive level.

It is close and an event to aim for as we do our winter training and start our Spring riding.

The Centurion isn't until August. How bout joining us closer in June for a "tune-up" at the Tour for Cancer Century?

Remember Italy has been the home for the Giro for nearly a century.

Lyle, then let’s plan to ride the 15th stage of this year's Giro which starts in Mestre just across the lagoon from Venice and finishes at the top of historic Monte Zoncolan in the Dolomites. I've talked with Trek Travel, and they will rent us bikes for the occasion. Yea, for real! If you really wanna be a stud, forget Madison; go to Italy!

Happy New Year!

Epilogue -- By definition, a Centurion is a commander of an ancient Roman company consisting of 100 men. What I wouldn’t give to have 100 people riding the Tour for Cancer Century and another 100 in our slightly epic Cercle les Vignobles. That’s $4,000 directly to our Ferguson Cancer Center if our riders each donate $20.