Having environmentalist inclinations I often wonder whether non-petroleum-based lubricants could perform adequately on the bike. Apparently commercially available olive oil might as well go on your chain rather than down your throat. I even recall some letters to bike magazines regarding the use of vegetable oils for eco-friendly chain lube.
I'm not quite ready to begin trials yet, but I have started considering the lubricating capabilities of dog slobber. The cellist and I recently adopted a geriatric terrier, so I am once again dealing with dog bowls. Washing Scruffy's bowl I have been reminded once again how persistently dog drool retains its slipperiness even after vigorous scrubbing with dish soap and water. Since wet-weather performance is a critical characteristic of chain lube, this durability may be a key advantage to dog saliva.
Dog drool may function as a true dry lube. It does seem to dry, but reactivates to full sliminess as soon as water hits it. So: does it reduce friction between link plates and rollers and does it act as an effective corrosion barrier? You've never seen a rusty dog tongue, have you?
The next step will be to treat sections of chain in my drawer full of leftover links and expose them to various environmental conditions. I might get to that some day. For now this remains a "thought experiment," which is the high-falutin' science term for daydreaming.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Friday, August 09, 2013
Colt 58
After two commutes of 29 miles each, the Brooks Colt seems to be shaping up nicely.
Very subtle differences in shape seem to make a difference in rider performance. The Colt has a narrower nose than the Turbo. One issue with the Turbo had been the way my thighs wore away the thin leather on the sides of the saddle. On the Colt my legs come in that little bit farther and still rub the sides. And that tiny change in angle may improve pedaling efficiency. I've had my two best commuting times of the year on these first two rides on the Brooks.
Other factors may be at work. Oddly enough, I had my two best commuting times last season on almost exactly the same dates. But the most recent times were faster. I did not note in my obsessive little record book whether I was rested or tired last year, but I can tell you that this year I'm thrashed. I get to bed too late, drag myself out early and guzzle coffee just to get started. The dog we adopted has been squeaking to go out a half an hour before my alarm is set, thus disrupting even the inadequate amount of sleep I had intended to get. Yet I get on the bike and hammer. I really think that the narrower saddle is putting me in a better position over the cranks.
The saddle is shaping to fit me, as promised. On the first ride it felt comfortable enough. Aside from slithering around on the bit of residual Proofide that had escaped my polishing rag the saddle felt reassuringly similar to the one I had removed. None of the noticeable shape differences struck me as ominous. The second day was only better. So this colt is breaking nicely.
The workshop is filling up with the bikes of triathletes tapering their training ahead of a busy race weekend just over a week away. I hate doing race tunes because if anything goes wrong it will be my fault. When I raced I did all my own work. If I messed anything up I only ruined my own day. Not that I intend to mess anything up, but when lots of urgent jobs come in at once and other riders are also trying to get a last shot at summer fun it can get pretty chaotic. And we're operating on a survival crew of two this week.
Off to work. At least it's rainy today. That should keep the bike rental business quiet.
Very subtle differences in shape seem to make a difference in rider performance. The Colt has a narrower nose than the Turbo. One issue with the Turbo had been the way my thighs wore away the thin leather on the sides of the saddle. On the Colt my legs come in that little bit farther and still rub the sides. And that tiny change in angle may improve pedaling efficiency. I've had my two best commuting times of the year on these first two rides on the Brooks.
Other factors may be at work. Oddly enough, I had my two best commuting times last season on almost exactly the same dates. But the most recent times were faster. I did not note in my obsessive little record book whether I was rested or tired last year, but I can tell you that this year I'm thrashed. I get to bed too late, drag myself out early and guzzle coffee just to get started. The dog we adopted has been squeaking to go out a half an hour before my alarm is set, thus disrupting even the inadequate amount of sleep I had intended to get. Yet I get on the bike and hammer. I really think that the narrower saddle is putting me in a better position over the cranks.
The saddle is shaping to fit me, as promised. On the first ride it felt comfortable enough. Aside from slithering around on the bit of residual Proofide that had escaped my polishing rag the saddle felt reassuringly similar to the one I had removed. None of the noticeable shape differences struck me as ominous. The second day was only better. So this colt is breaking nicely.
The workshop is filling up with the bikes of triathletes tapering their training ahead of a busy race weekend just over a week away. I hate doing race tunes because if anything goes wrong it will be my fault. When I raced I did all my own work. If I messed anything up I only ruined my own day. Not that I intend to mess anything up, but when lots of urgent jobs come in at once and other riders are also trying to get a last shot at summer fun it can get pretty chaotic. And we're operating on a survival crew of two this week.
Off to work. At least it's rainy today. That should keep the bike rental business quiet.
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
My bike wears English leather
When you find a saddle you like, buy several of them. For me, the Avocet Racing II was a great fit. When those disappeared I switched to Sella Italia Turbo saddles. Even when Sella Italia quit making the original model I was able to scavenge lightly-used ones and even found a new-old-stock saddle still in a box. Then Sella Italia reintroduced the "Turbo 1980." I bought one.
After only two years, the Turbo 1980 looks like this:
Looking at that I realized that all the older ones had gone the same way. The leather covering is paper-thin. So screw it. I'm investing in real leather. I'd had a leather saddle before. My old Peugeot came with an Ideale leather saddle,
but I bought the bike used and the saddle had suffered some abuse
before I got it. That's when I started using Avocet saddles on the
advice of a friend.
This return to real leather is the end of a research program lasting years. I've almost bought a Brooks several times. Two things kept me from going ahead with it: the weight and the care of the leather itself. At this point I can't claim to care a whole lot about bike weight, with rack, fenders, generator hub and lights. So I'll undertake the care of the leather.
After exhaustive study of the Brooks catalog I narrowed it down to the Team Pro, the Swift and maybe the B17 Narrow. I kept glancing past the Colt. But then I checked the dimensions more carefully on the Brooks site and decided it sounded like a good transition from the saddles I had used before. It's a few millimeters wider than the Turbo/Avocet, but not wide enough to cause problems. A saddle that's too wide for your bone structure will just push you forward onto the narrow part of itself. So choose wisely.
The saddle just went on the bike today, so I have not ridden more than a few yards on it. We'll see how the notorious break-in goes. Some people have a very easy time. Others willingly suffer to achieve the personalized fit for which fine leather saddles are known. Then there are the riders who run as fast and as far as they can to get away from the old leather torture device.
The way the rails are shaped the saddle can't be set very far back, but measuring with a plumb line I was able to get the nose of the saddle the same distance behind the bottom bracket as the nose of the Turbo had been. The saddle itself is taller, so I had to adjust the post height slightly. After just a couple of minutes riding I could feel that the leather had begun to reshape. Rapping on that wood-hard saddle in the box I would not have believed it.
So there it is.
After only two years, the Turbo 1980 looks like this:
This return to real leather is the end of a research program lasting years. I've almost bought a Brooks several times. Two things kept me from going ahead with it: the weight and the care of the leather itself. At this point I can't claim to care a whole lot about bike weight, with rack, fenders, generator hub and lights. So I'll undertake the care of the leather.
After exhaustive study of the Brooks catalog I narrowed it down to the Team Pro, the Swift and maybe the B17 Narrow. I kept glancing past the Colt. But then I checked the dimensions more carefully on the Brooks site and decided it sounded like a good transition from the saddles I had used before. It's a few millimeters wider than the Turbo/Avocet, but not wide enough to cause problems. A saddle that's too wide for your bone structure will just push you forward onto the narrow part of itself. So choose wisely.
The saddle just went on the bike today, so I have not ridden more than a few yards on it. We'll see how the notorious break-in goes. Some people have a very easy time. Others willingly suffer to achieve the personalized fit for which fine leather saddles are known. Then there are the riders who run as fast and as far as they can to get away from the old leather torture device.
Friday, August 02, 2013
Ten Mile Limit
Ever since the invention of the bicycle it has been an imposition on everyone who does not ride one. Even before the Draisine grew pedals, rowdies were terrorizing pedestrians with drunken shenanigans and out-of-control downhills. Even though the human-powered two-wheeler has enjoyed periods of great popularity, non-riders during those times simply gritted their teeth all the harder.
People are constantly coming up with reasons a rider should not ride on any given day. Objections usually hinge on the amount of time the ride takes or the types of freight a rider can or will convey. One can count on riding a maximum of ten miles a day before your habit begins to impose on the non-riders or less dedicated riders in your life. A safer bet would be five miles.
With a five- to ten-mile range, this makes most urban cycling acceptable and virtuous. A short hop in street clothes to work or for shopping helps ease traffic and parking congestion and makes a compact settled area more pleasant. Start trying to rack up more distance than that and you quickly enter the realm of the self-centered freak. Sure, a lot of riders manage to accumulate major mileage, but it always comes at the cost of some strain on personal relationships. An accommodating supporting population of friends, family members and loved ones will adapt, but I guarantee that none of them would protest if the rider quit cycling and took up activities that kept him or her closer to hand.
The cellist and I adopted a dog last month. He's a cute little guy, 13 years old, with congestive heart failure, but he still enjoys life. But he has needs. The cellist has been really dedicated to serving them, unlike a kid who whines to get a dog and then can't be bothered to care for it, but when she can't I get the puppy dog eyes from her and the dog.
She's headed out of town for a couple of days. She asked if I could drive to work on a beautiful summer Saturday so the dog could come with me. I said, "no, my employers don't want a dog in the shop because of the liability." Then the boss says, "Scruffy would make a great shop dog."
The cyclist always ends up being the selfish bastard for actually wanting to ride. And if it wasn't this it would be something else. "You get home so late." "You look tired." "I worry about you in traffic." That's from the people who care about you. The objections of the non-riders are much more pointed and hostile. They all boil down to "get the F### out of the way."
Short hops in congested areas where the bike has the advantage are not only a great example of bike superiority. They're the only completely defensible use of it. That does not mean I will be curtailing my longer rides. It just means I know I'm building up what society perceives as a debt to them for doing so.
People are constantly coming up with reasons a rider should not ride on any given day. Objections usually hinge on the amount of time the ride takes or the types of freight a rider can or will convey. One can count on riding a maximum of ten miles a day before your habit begins to impose on the non-riders or less dedicated riders in your life. A safer bet would be five miles.
With a five- to ten-mile range, this makes most urban cycling acceptable and virtuous. A short hop in street clothes to work or for shopping helps ease traffic and parking congestion and makes a compact settled area more pleasant. Start trying to rack up more distance than that and you quickly enter the realm of the self-centered freak. Sure, a lot of riders manage to accumulate major mileage, but it always comes at the cost of some strain on personal relationships. An accommodating supporting population of friends, family members and loved ones will adapt, but I guarantee that none of them would protest if the rider quit cycling and took up activities that kept him or her closer to hand.
The cellist and I adopted a dog last month. He's a cute little guy, 13 years old, with congestive heart failure, but he still enjoys life. But he has needs. The cellist has been really dedicated to serving them, unlike a kid who whines to get a dog and then can't be bothered to care for it, but when she can't I get the puppy dog eyes from her and the dog.
She's headed out of town for a couple of days. She asked if I could drive to work on a beautiful summer Saturday so the dog could come with me. I said, "no, my employers don't want a dog in the shop because of the liability." Then the boss says, "Scruffy would make a great shop dog."
The cyclist always ends up being the selfish bastard for actually wanting to ride. And if it wasn't this it would be something else. "You get home so late." "You look tired." "I worry about you in traffic." That's from the people who care about you. The objections of the non-riders are much more pointed and hostile. They all boil down to "get the F### out of the way."
Short hops in congested areas where the bike has the advantage are not only a great example of bike superiority. They're the only completely defensible use of it. That does not mean I will be curtailing my longer rides. It just means I know I'm building up what society perceives as a debt to them for doing so.
Friday, July 26, 2013
I hope I quit soon enough
I have known a number of smokers who managed to quit that habit. In every case they hoped they had done it soon enough to avoid things like heart trouble and lung cancer.
Now comes this information about top-caliber endurance athletes. My employer, a cross-country ski racer since the 1970s, has developed some heart rhythm problems. His many friends with similar interests have been sending him information, including this recent study that shows a 30% increase in the incidence of heart problems among the top tier of cross-country ski racers. Other studies have extended the risk pool to include hard-core competitive athletes in other self-propelled sports.
Gosh, I only hope I quit soon enough.
I'm not seriously worried. I did have a bout of premature ventricular contractions (pvc) in the 1980s when I cut back significantly on my training. It was exacerbated by my habitual caffeine overdoses and eventually resolved itself. But the one thing I learned during my competitive years is that I'm not all that competitive. The people who are damaging themselves in pursuit of athletic glory are on a higher level of agony -- and sometimes unsanctioned physiological experimentation -- entirely. So you see, there's a lot to be said for mildly vigorous underachievement.
In honor of that I think I'll take a rest day. The weather is wet and I slept late.
Now comes this information about top-caliber endurance athletes. My employer, a cross-country ski racer since the 1970s, has developed some heart rhythm problems. His many friends with similar interests have been sending him information, including this recent study that shows a 30% increase in the incidence of heart problems among the top tier of cross-country ski racers. Other studies have extended the risk pool to include hard-core competitive athletes in other self-propelled sports.
Gosh, I only hope I quit soon enough.
I'm not seriously worried. I did have a bout of premature ventricular contractions (pvc) in the 1980s when I cut back significantly on my training. It was exacerbated by my habitual caffeine overdoses and eventually resolved itself. But the one thing I learned during my competitive years is that I'm not all that competitive. The people who are damaging themselves in pursuit of athletic glory are on a higher level of agony -- and sometimes unsanctioned physiological experimentation -- entirely. So you see, there's a lot to be said for mildly vigorous underachievement.
In honor of that I think I'll take a rest day. The weather is wet and I slept late.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
An immaculately tailored tissue paper suit.
Based on my observation of the mechanical work that comes out of a shop in our region renowned for its bike fitting expertise, I'm starting to believe that the fit guys are like the body shop guys whose cars look stupendous, but run like crap.
Proper fit is important. Whether it is really the millimetric science that some of its practitioners would have us believe is debatable, but I certainly respect the technicians who have invested in equipment and training to be able to set up an athlete on a bicycle with enough precision and confidence to put that worry out of the athlete's mind. Make room for other concerns, like nutrition, training schedule and whether to start doping.
The thing about fitters is that they seem to care only about the position of the rider on the bike, not about the function of the bike itself. For instance, when one of them reconfigured a Surly Pacer I had set up for a customer who wanted a bad-weather version of her triathlon bike, he put a very steep-rise, short stem on it when converting it to the drop-bar road riding position from the aero-bar position I had set up to duplicate her tri bike exactly. I had even used the cast-off bar and stem from her tri bike. I'd made a finely-calculated effort to replicate her riding position and she had been pleased with the result. But then when she wanted to change the bike over to a different use she decided to use some shop credit at Fits R Us. I'm all about saving a buck, but damn. Fits R Us put on a stem that wrecks the handling of the bike. When I test rode it recently after some adjustments it was horribly squirrelly. It may put my friend in the perfect biomechanical position on a trainer, but it really stinks when actually riding.
I haven't told my friend because she doesn't mind it. But if I had been doing the fit I would have used a fork with a longer steerer so I could put the bars higher without using either a steep-rise stem or one of those ugly bolted-on stem risers.
At least the handling of this bike proves my theory about the effect of stem angle on bike handling. The connection points of rider to bike are not just points in space. The shape of the linkages matters.
The problem may not be fitters in general, it may be Fits R Us in particular. I have worked on bikes fitted by other practitioners, but in many cases the riders fall into a size range that requires no radical component choices.
A fitter will adapt a rider's bike to the human form without questioning the materials used in its construction, just as a tailor could fit you to an immaculately fitted tissue paper suit. It would be an ephemeral piece of rubbish, but you would look great in it while it lasted. When it comes to stupid design elements like 4 mm shift housing and head-tube cable stops, the fitters have nothing to say about it. Brifters that choke on a broken shift cable are fine with them, too. They'll make sure that the hard, narrow seat with carbon shell, titanium rails and a covering of endangered condor hide ($589.95 and free freight) is at the perfect height and angle. The carbon-fiber bar and stem, the 17-speed electronic shift controls and hydraulic brake levers will sit in the exact position for ultimate performance.
When faced with anyone who has developed Position Neurosis I send them to a professional fitter. I just don't have the showmanship to sound thoroughly convincing to a rider who needs the perfect combination of medical science and psychobabble to be able to put their fear of bad bike fit behind them. I'm glad someone is willing toexploit this population for profit help these poor people. It saves me a lot of time.
Proper fit is important. Whether it is really the millimetric science that some of its practitioners would have us believe is debatable, but I certainly respect the technicians who have invested in equipment and training to be able to set up an athlete on a bicycle with enough precision and confidence to put that worry out of the athlete's mind. Make room for other concerns, like nutrition, training schedule and whether to start doping.
The thing about fitters is that they seem to care only about the position of the rider on the bike, not about the function of the bike itself. For instance, when one of them reconfigured a Surly Pacer I had set up for a customer who wanted a bad-weather version of her triathlon bike, he put a very steep-rise, short stem on it when converting it to the drop-bar road riding position from the aero-bar position I had set up to duplicate her tri bike exactly. I had even used the cast-off bar and stem from her tri bike. I'd made a finely-calculated effort to replicate her riding position and she had been pleased with the result. But then when she wanted to change the bike over to a different use she decided to use some shop credit at Fits R Us. I'm all about saving a buck, but damn. Fits R Us put on a stem that wrecks the handling of the bike. When I test rode it recently after some adjustments it was horribly squirrelly. It may put my friend in the perfect biomechanical position on a trainer, but it really stinks when actually riding.
I haven't told my friend because she doesn't mind it. But if I had been doing the fit I would have used a fork with a longer steerer so I could put the bars higher without using either a steep-rise stem or one of those ugly bolted-on stem risers.
At least the handling of this bike proves my theory about the effect of stem angle on bike handling. The connection points of rider to bike are not just points in space. The shape of the linkages matters.
The problem may not be fitters in general, it may be Fits R Us in particular. I have worked on bikes fitted by other practitioners, but in many cases the riders fall into a size range that requires no radical component choices.
A fitter will adapt a rider's bike to the human form without questioning the materials used in its construction, just as a tailor could fit you to an immaculately fitted tissue paper suit. It would be an ephemeral piece of rubbish, but you would look great in it while it lasted. When it comes to stupid design elements like 4 mm shift housing and head-tube cable stops, the fitters have nothing to say about it. Brifters that choke on a broken shift cable are fine with them, too. They'll make sure that the hard, narrow seat with carbon shell, titanium rails and a covering of endangered condor hide ($589.95 and free freight) is at the perfect height and angle. The carbon-fiber bar and stem, the 17-speed electronic shift controls and hydraulic brake levers will sit in the exact position for ultimate performance.
When faced with anyone who has developed Position Neurosis I send them to a professional fitter. I just don't have the showmanship to sound thoroughly convincing to a rider who needs the perfect combination of medical science and psychobabble to be able to put their fear of bad bike fit behind them. I'm glad someone is willing to
Friday, July 19, 2013
Note to Self
When I leave a bike on the work stand at the end of the day I like to leave myself a note so I remember procedures I still need to complete.
This one had a bent chainring.
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