I do the Wednesday night and Saturday morning rides at North Central Cyclery in DeKalb. (Not this Saturday, though.  I’m saving up for the Gravel Metric, which is on Sunday.  You should be, too.)  NCC just got in their new kits, with bibs and jerseys from BioRacer.  They are amazingly comfortable…the bibs have now accepted a podium spot next to my favorite Pearl Izumi knickers in terms of saddle comfort.  Anyhow, while the kits were just made available Tuesday, it seems as if a lot of riders got the memo before the Wednesday night ride.

(Note: pics shamelessly stolen from NCC’s Facebook post).

I felt strong on last night’s ride–stronger than normal, and I attribute it to three factors:

1.  Wheelsucking.  Sure, when the group was doing a rotating pace line, I did my part and pulled through the rotation.  But when a group would sprint off the front, I would swallow my pride and try to just hook onto a wheel.  I didn’t worry about sprinting off the front of the sprint, nor about starting my own sprints.  My goal was to survive in the lead group.  And I did.  This isn’t the prototypical definition of wheelsucking, but it’s close.  I’m acknowledging that I have a lot more miles to get into my legs before I’m in the same class as many of the guys I ride with.  I’m ok with that.  (Kind of.)  And I’ve decided that it is better to do my best to hang with the leaders than to lead a few valiant charges of the light brigade that end in my slaughter.

2.  Nutrition.  I read a number of posts from an exercise physiologist, and even exchanged a couple emails with her, regarding sports nutrition and those with compromised digestive systems.  She was writing about a host of conditions, including Celiac’s disease.  She spends pages describing something that I’m going to greatly over-simplify.  In short, those who are recovering from acute bouts of certain digestive or auto-immune issues can have difficulty accessing energy stores, and difficulty changing the form of energy use that the body is undertaking at any given time.  As I understand it, if my body is doing intense efforts and utilizing short term energy stores, it can be hard for my body to replenish those rapidly, or to transfer to using medium or longer term stores.  This difficulty is complicated further by my significant weight loss, and the gradual loss of long-term energy (fat) stores.  I’m probably totally butchering her theory, and accordingly, I’m not going to cite to her at this time, until I have her clearance to do so.  Anyhow, the change that I made for the Wednesday night ride was to shotgun a can of regular soda before the ride (liquid sugar), and to down a gel at around the 17-20 mile mark, when I would normally start fading.  On previous group rides, I would get to that point and my legs would just start slowing down.  I still had plenty of cardio in me, but my quads felt like tofu.  Last night, I felt much, much stronger and my legs stayed with me the whole ride.  I did go through one brief cramping moment with my left calf, but it resolved and I rode on.  I’m going to keep trying this for a few weeks and see if the results are consistently good.  Apparently, the big dose of easily absorbable sugar helps keep muscles fueled when you’re having difficulty adapting to other energy stores.  We’ll see.

3.  The kindness of friends.  I’ve mentioned that I ride with some awesome guys.  At one point in the ride, a breakaway sprint occurred and I was in a position behind another rider that prevented me from getting out and onto the sprint fast enough.  The strongest rider in the group saw my predicament, and dulled his pace long enough for me to catch his wheel, and then ride hard onto the breakaway.  There was no way I would have caught them by myself.  I’m going to leave it at that, before I start getting all gushy.

It was a great, great ride.  Today or tomorrow, I’m going to do a very short, very easy spin.  Tomorrow, I will also spend some quality time with the Vaytanium, cleaning, lubing, adjusting and otherwise pampering before Sunday’s Gravel Metric.  I’m really looking forward to this year’s ride.  Last year, the question was whether or not I’d survive.  This year, I know I can do the distance without a problem…no matter what happens, I can at least finish.  So I’m focusing a bit more on time and speed.  I need to take advantage of faster groups and wind conditions…try to finish before the sun gets too hot…and yet not go out so hard that I’m burned up by mile 20.  It’ll be a challenge, and I’m looking forward to it.  I haven’t decided if I’m going to run 3 bottle cages, or just do a water refill somewhere along the way.

End of the ride, last night, talking with some great guys.

The Ridley featured prominently, above.  I swear it wasn’t staged.  By the way, the guy in blue is Paul Carpenter, the chap who’s going to race in RAAM.  Best of luck, Paul.

Philosophical/celiac post follows.  Minimal bike content.

If you’ve never listened to This American Life, you should consider listening to it…at least once.  It is one of my favorite weekly experiences.  I download the podcast on Monday morning, and listen to it in the car on my way to and from work–it makes drive time a bit more enjoyable.

Anyhow, 2 weeks ago, they had a “live” show that was simulcast across the country, live in theaters.  I went to the theater to see the event with some of my friends, and was blown away by the stories told.  This week, the podcast is a condensed version of that show.  The theme of the show was invisible made visible…which played well with a movie screen showing the acting (and dancing, and speaking, etc.), but I was concerned with how that very visual show would translate into an audio-only podcast.  The first ~10 minutes of the podcast featured a father who has lost his eyesight, talking about a visit to a hotel.

Listening to the podcast does much more justice to his story, but here’s the Reader’s Digest version for those who are opposed to NPR:

Blind father, traveling by himself, goes into an unfamiliar hotel room.  He starts looking for a phone.  He searches the whole room, with his hands, miming and groping the walls and everything in the room to an illicit degree.  (His words, not mine).  He starts at the bed, and goes almost all the way around the room, past an end-table, a couch and coffee table, a desk, the door and the bathroom…until he reaches the bed again.  He cannot find a phone.  He even searches the bathroom.  At this point, he decides there is no phone, abandons his search, and goes to bed…only to be awoken by a phone call.  He follows the sound of the phone to the couch and coffee table and, quite surprised to now find a phone there, answers it.  He is surprised because he had previously searched the table (groped to an illicit degree) and found no phone.  After his phone call, he goes to get back into bed–and hits a wall.  A wall where the bed should be.  He is now confused and somewhat alarmed.

Long story short, the room had an alcove in one corner, and the alcove had a second couch and coffee table, and the missing phone.  When he felt the walls, he started at the bed, and when he circled the room and reached part of the bed again, he stopped searching…so there was a 4′ long stretch of wall that he had not searched, and that was the entryway to the alcove.  The couch and table he had found were on the left side of the bed.  The alcove (and second couch and table) were on the right side of the bed.  So when the phone rang and he answered it, a bit groggy, he hadn’t realized that he was going into the alcove to answer the phone.  He assumed that the couch and table were the couch and table he remembered from the original search that evening (left of the bed)…so when he turned right from the alcove couch (right of the bed) and expected to hit bed, he hit wall instead.

The beautiful concept that ensues is his discussion of living inside a mistake.  Because he cannot see, he doesn’t know exactly what the room looks like.  When he feels the walls, he plots out the room in his mind.  In his mind, there’s a wall in one corner.  In reality, there’s an alcove there.  But unless the phone had rung, he never would have found the alcove.  He would have continued to assume that there was a wall there, and that would have been his reality.  To me, that’s a stunningly beautiful, shocking, remarkable reflection on how he lives in a very visual world.

What I love about the concept is how we all live inside mistakes, in our own ways.  For me, last summer, I would do a hard ride and feel like absolute crap afterwards.  I would assume that I was low on sustenance, and would eat a big load of pasta, washed down with a couple beers.  And then I’d feel even worse, and various unpleasant experiences would follow.  But this was my first summer riding hard, and I assumed that this was just part of the experience of learning to ride harder.  I assumed that you’re supposed to feel like crap, get sick, and suffer the various discomforts that I was going through.  I assumed that the weight loss was the result of riding, as was the constant fatigue.

Getting diagnosed as a celiac was the proverbial ringing phone in my life.

Where there once was a wall, I now see an alcove.  I’m (barely) holding weight, between 145-150.  Notwithstanding the ton of riding and other exercise I’m doing, I’m not putting on any mass…but at least I’m not backsliding.  I feel a lot better than I did last year, although I still feel like there are times when I just completely run out of energy, or when I feel as though I’m not progressing as rapidly as I’d like to.  The paradox, then, is determining whether my current reality as a celiac is the way that the world really is, or if there’s something out there that I’m missing.  Am I seeing a wall somewhere that’s really an opening?  Is there something I should be doing from any discipline (dietary, health, exercise, medication, other) that would improve my performance and progress?  Is my problem that I need to put on more miles, or that I need more recovery time?  For the past period of about a week, I rode Saturday, Sunday, Monday, lifted Tuesday, rode Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and lifted today.  Some of those were big efforts (the Wednesday ride stands out, for example) and some were easy recovery efforts (Sunday–the Scarlet Letter.)  Time will tell.

In the past few months, I’ve challenged a lot of assumptions in nearly all aspects of my life.  Through that time, I’ve been continually shocked by how often my assumptions are dreadfully wrong, and equally shocked by how often they are right.  But perhaps most disconcerting is the absolute disconnect between the perceived strength of my assumptions and the assumptions’ actual validity.  Just because I strongly believe an assumption is true does not make it so.

So am I riding into a wall, or into a previously unseen alcove?  Rather than sitting around and waiting for the phone to ring, I’m going to keep trying to progress forward.  Either way, there is some hope in knowing that I can continue pushing and will eventually, one way or another, find out.

Even the pros.

Ben Berden, professional European cyclocross rider, is coming to the Gravel Metric to hand out a little punishment on the local crowd.

Holy Shnikes.  Looks like the fix is in.

In case you missed the news on Bike Rumor, Fox has unveiled an electronic system to adjust suspension settings on mountain bikes.  The system is shown on a full suspension Scott mountain bike that is ordinarily equipped with Scott’s multi-setting suspension system (locked out front and rear, partial travel, and full travel)…but now instead of having cable actuated controls, you have electronic controls.

The black box down by the BB is the battery, and the little black box under the shock is the motor that adjusts the shock setting.

According to Bike Rumor, the little red lever remains the external setting for external rebound adjustment.

That’s obviously the top of the fork.

The one advantage, at least compared to other Scott bikes, is that the control for suspension mode is pretty well integrated.  At the far left here is the electronic switch:

And here is the comparable manual lever:

System cost is set at $1,999 for a full suspension bike, or $1499 for a hardtail.  Other than the aesthetics and kludginess of the lever/switch, what are the advantages here?  Too soon to tell, but likely more weight.  More complication.  Tiny electric servo motors and wired connections on a mountain bike.  Sure, there’s faster actuation (claimed 1/4 second actuation on the electronic system), but when is the extra 3/4 second of a manual system going to hold you back?

Perhaps it’s just me, but I don’t really understand Scott’s philosophy on the bikes equipped with TwinLoc, either.  I’d rather have a bike with an efficient and elegant suspension design that doesn’t have a ton of bob or squat, as compared to a design that requires constant adjustment between settings to perform effectively.

Anyhow, the system is out and we now have electronic suspension adjustments in the marketplace.  Other companies are sure to follow.  We’ve already talked about electronic shifting and wireless, electronic brakes.  What’s next?  Steer by wire (perhaps on a bakfiets)?  Electronic seat droppers?  (WHIRRRRRRRRRRRR).  Electronic pumps on your water bottles, to gently squirt hydration into your mouth?

In all seriousness, I’d be more intrigued if they had put a little more thought into the design. Instead of bolting a motor to a shock, build a shock with an integrated motor that’s a bit more streamlined.  Instead of having a monster battery that requires recharging, what about a system that recharges based on suspension movement, or even, gasp, rider pedaling?  That’s the part of this that I find so intriguing…going electronic in the name of performance gains, but acquiring those gains by plugging in a battery that you recharge from external power.  If the gains are there, power the darn thing off of the bike!

Maybe I’ve been hanging around with Mudge too much.

AATLT = All About The Little Things.

In my non-biking/blogging world, I work.  A lot.  And I drive.  A lot.

To fit my biking in, I often bring a bike with me on my car.  I have a reasonably nice hitch rack, an extensive locking protocol, and some good practices for bike/hitch visibility.  But one thing that has really annoyed me is the flopping around of handlebars.  Sure, you can bungee things in place, but that’s similarly annoying, floppy, and potentially mars your bikes.  My hitch rack is a version that holds bikes by the frame, leaving the wheels flop loose.  (I haven’t found a wheel-mount rack yet that is secure, sturdy, adjustable between 700x23c tires and 4.7″ Mukluk tires, and that folds out of the way when not in use or when accessing the cargo area of your car).

Enter the Feedback Sports Flop Stop Handlebar Holder.

Very simple.  Just a plastic/aluminum telescoping bar with a set screw that adjusts the length (the piece on the left fits into the piece on the right; the set screw holds the length you set it at).  The set screw has a big thumbwheel on it, so it’s adjustable by hand.

The ends have these little barbed rubber straps and a T shaped holder that they fit into.

So you loop one end around your handlebar, like so:

And you loop the other end around your seatpost.  Since my Ridley has an integrated seatpost that is too big to fit around, I loop the other end around the saddle rails.

The little rubber strap is sufficiently long to fit around any standard seatpost and any standard handlebar (including my Jones Joops on the Big Dummy and Mukluk).

Adjust the length to get your bars where you want ‘em, and you’re golden.  I use this when my bike is on my hitch rack, and swap it between all of my bikes, depending on what I’m carrying.  While it seems pretty light-duty, it’s proven sturdy enough to handle the wider profile wheels on the Ridley…and for that matter, the 4.7″ tires on the Mukluk.  My bike rack holds the bikes perpendicular to the car.  And the current RATG vehicle of choice is narrow enough that when the Mukluk is on the back, the tires protrude past the side of the vehicle.  Nonetheless, the Flop Stop does what the name implies, and holds the bars perfectly still, at any speed I’ve yet encountered (including speeds legal only in certain parts of the US that were encountered en route to the Barry Roubaix).  Because it is plastic, rubber and aluminum, it hasn’t corroded or deteriorated at all, notwithstanding several rainstorms.  It has proven to be surprisingly sturdy.  I was worried that it would break/bend/crack/the set screw would strip/etc.  So far, after 3 months of usage, no problems.

I will admit that I don’t like using the Flop Stop to work on the bike.  As shown in the first picture, it’s kind of intrusive.  For that purpose, I far prefer Park’s simple handlebar holder…but the Park handlebar holder does not work well for transport, and the Flop Stop works very well in that capacity.  If you do a lot of bike transport with a rack that doesn’t hold the wheels, I highly recommend it.  I use one, and adjust it to fit all of my bikes.

Yes, the Scarlet Letter.  The big one.

R

R as in Recovery Ride.

Today’s post is not about self-flagellation or mutilation…it’s about Recovery Rides, and the paradox of being a little too competitive for my own good.  After being encouraged by some of the smarter riders I know, I’ve done some digging into recovery rides.  The science is sound–the day after a hard ride, you do a shorter duration (12-15 miles) at a low speed, low intensity, high cadence.  You never build up a burn, you downshift on hills, and generally, you ride in a leisurely fashion.  The science behind recovery rides has to do with clearing lactic acid and other exercise byproducts from your muscles, encouraging bloodflow, encouraging muscle growth and tissue repair, and putting down base miles that  continue to build your pedaling technique.

That all sounds well and good, but if you’re overly competitive, recovery rides are the hardest rides of all.  I once remarked to a friend that, having built some speed over the winter, I feel somewhat like a little boy who has discovered his manhood.  I’m never quite sure when to whip it out–and when I do, it’s often at inopportune times.  On group rides with faster riders, I sprint too soon, burn out, and get hammered.  And on my solo rides, I push too hard on every ride, and don’t build base miles or recover.  I’m trying to turn over a new leaf…so on the group rides this week, I’ve stayed with the group and followed the sprints, instead of leading them, and I’m trying recovery rides.

This week, I rode Monday (solo hard ride), lifted Tuesday, rode Wednesday (group hard ride), rode Thursday (small group 20 mile cruise on Rumblefish), rode Friday (a few hours of mountain biking), rode Saturday (easy group ride with interval sprinting) and rode today.  Today was a pure recovery ride…on the Ridley, 15-17mph, 100rpm cadence, downshifting at the first sign of resistance or muscle burn.  And frankly, that’s hard for me to do.  I want to ride as fast as I can, all of the time.  But frankly, I’m trying to figure out if this recovery ride technique works…because I want to get better more than I want to hammer all the time.

Riding on a Sunday morning at 6am, I ran into very little traffic…until I was headed home, waiting for a light at Randall Road.  Then, I had a 50ish year old man ride up behind me on an ‘entry level’ Madone and strike up a conversation as we waited for the light.  I tensed in anticipation of the green, paralyzed by an internal conflict.  On one hand, I was on a recovery ride, and didn’t want to ruin it.  On the other hand, I was riding by a cyclist that I could almost certainly drop, and didn’t want to let up when the opportunity presented itself.  That’s the overly competitive side of me coming out.  I thought about telling him, “yeah, I’m taking it easy–recovery ride today,” but felt that: 1) I would sound like a bad episode of $h!# road cyclists say; and, 2) I would sound as if I was making excuses.  My sense ended up prevailing over my ego, and I proceeded on my recovery ride–although I did make an unplanned turn to avoid continuing temptation.

Which leads us back to the Scarlet Letter.  Here’s a modest proposal: cyclists should all have a big red R that they pin to their jersey when on a recovery ride.  The rules applicable to the Scarlet Letter?

1. When wearing the R, you cannot ride out of the saddle.
2. When wearing the R, you cannot ride in the drops, or in aero bars.
3. When wearing the R, you cannot pass other riders, whilst riding hands-free.
4. If another rider comes across a rider wearing an R, the other rider must immediately pass and say, “have a great Recovery Ride ™ .”
5. When wearing the R, you cannot wear a skin suit or aero helmet, cannot use aero water bottles, and must have at least 2 items in your jersey pocket.
6. When wearing the R, you have to install it before you start riding and maintain it for the full ride.  (I.e. no whipping out an R mid-ride if you feel you’re about to be dropped).

There are probably more rules, but that’s enough for one post.  I really think it could

I’ll leave you with something to ENVE.  I have no idea what the finish on the wheels is, but they make a spectacular color in direct sunlight.  All I have for now are terrible iPhone pics, but I’ll try to get some good high quality ones soon.  Teaser for now:

On the Rumblefish, I’m currently running Maxxis Ikon EXO 29×2.2 tires–tubeless on a set of Easton Havens.  I run Stan’s sealant in them.

Over the past few years that I’ve had the ‘fish, I’ve run many tires on it.  I ran the Bontrager 29-3s that came stock on it…since I got the ‘fish in the winter, I found them to be woefully inadequate.  Fine on frozen bare ground, but terrible in snow, mud, or anything wet.  I then tried replacing the rear tire with a Bontrager FR3.  It was really aggressive and did a good job of pushing the bike through just about anything…but the 29-3 in the front still let me down.  When spring rolled around, I flipped the tires front to back.  The FR3 was great in front (albeit with a lot of rolling resistance) and the 29-3 performed acceptably.  I had also tried the 29-4 and Geax Saguaro, neither of which made my day.

I went tubeless with Bontrager rim strips in the stock Duster wheels, and loved it.  Lower pressure produced amazing dividends in terms of traction and feel.  When I decided to upgrade to the much lighter Havens, I wanted to bring tires to match.  After a TON of research, I settled on the Maxxis IKON Exos…largely due to posts like this on MTBR.  The IKON is available with and without the EXO sidewalls…the EXO are specially reinforced and more durable than the standard IKONs.  I’ve read that some have had problems with Stans causing bubbles and tread separation on the IKONS.  I haven’t had that problem at all.  They did mount up very easily, and while I have a compressor, they seated on the bead using a hand pump.  I did a 3 minute roll and swish with the Stan’s, and they sealed up tight.  I haven’t had any issues with them since.

Because Maxxis changes their designs so often, the labels on my two tires do not match.  This is the rear.

The tread design has small blocks down the center, with offset blocks in between the center blocks.  It’s a nice combination that delivers good traction in most conditions, and still allows for low rolling resistance on hardpack or gravel.  For instance, last night, I put in 20 miles on asphalt, pumped up to 45psi, and the efficiency was reasonable (for a full suspension 29er).

If you look closely, you can see that the center blocks are angled at a 45 degree on the “front” side (pointing up, in the picture above).  The very front of the center blocks are bevel cut, so the face is angled instead of straight.  The rear of the center blocks are straight across.

The side blocks on the tires, which don’t contact the ground unless you’re really turning, are nice and chunky.  They’re very reassuring in loose conditions, and really dig through to find something to rail corners on.

The tread is open enough that they do a surprisingly good job of shedding mud.  Because they’re designed to be lightweight (mine both weigh between 545 and 560 grams), the tread blocks aren’t very deep, but they do well in 95% of the conditions that are experienced in Illinois.  Great on hardpack, great on gravel, great on loose dirt, reasonably good in the sand, great on wet roots, and surprisingly acceptable in the mud.  I’ve put a lot of miles on these without a single issue.  No flats, no burping, nothing.  Completely trouble free.

Because of the tread design, I did switch the rear tire around and run it “backwards”.  I do think that it is a bit more aggressive backwards, and provides better traction pedaling in loose conditions (with an acceptable rolling resistance penalty).  If I were riding all gravel or hardpack, I’d flip it to the standard configuration…but for off-road use, I’m very happy with the change to running it backwards.  When I dismounted the rear to flip it, it mounted right back up nice and easy.  I did use tire levers, but in a pinch, it would have slipped on with a very firm grip.

I’m hovering between 145-150# right now…and I’m running 22psi up front and 25psi in the rear.  I could easily drop to 20 without burping or pinching, but I like the handling at this pressure…and when I shift my weight back to climb some gnarly roots or sharp rocks, I don’t have to worry about my rear tire.

As for long-term durability, I was pleased to see that the winner of the AZT 300 (riding a Salsa Spearfish) opted for an Ikon on the rear of his ride (in the EXO version that I use), and had nary a problem.  When these do eventually wear out, I’ll be hard pressed to find something better to replace them with.  On my 26er (previous bike), I tried a lot of tires and saw a lot of compromises.  I wouldn’t run these if I wanted something super wide or super high volume (the label dimensions are relatively accurate, on my Havens), nor if I was planning on riding a ton of mud and muck.  But otherwise, in conditions from sand to forest, I love ‘em, and wouldn’t change a thing about them.  I do wish the Havens were a bit less garish, but oh well.  I’ll review the Havens another day.  For now, I can say that for my Illinois conditions, the IKONs are excellent, and I’ve been nothing but impressed with them.

I rode them at Saw Wee Kee with GMatt today, and it was a great day for a great ride with a great friend.  80s and sunny, with a lot of shade.  Trails were moist but not wet…perfect conditions.  I cleaned a lot of obstacles that I hadn’t previously cleaned–the confidence gained riding in Sedona (and the willingness to devote speed and power to a climb or obstacle, instead of hitting things tentatively) made a huge difference in my game.  The Ikons were the cherry on top.