I got a chance to do a demo ride on a Cannondale Evo, a bike I've been curious about for a few years. Cannondale and City Bike Works in SacTown teamed up to make the offer on the opening stage of the Amgen Tour of California May 11.
All those interested had to do was phone in a reservation for the Cannondale bike desired to ride, plus the preferred frame size. Then it was just a matter of showing up with your pedals, helmet, etc. and going on a 25-mile ride led by Ben Vogt of the bike store. The Cannondale mechanics prepping the bikes were easy going guys happy to answer any questions about the bikes and their components. Joining in the ride were Cannondale pros Matthias Krizek, 25, an Austrian rider, and Slovakian Juraj Sagan, also 25, older brother by a year or so of pro cycling superstar Peter Sagan. Vogt gave the 10 or so locals that showed up to ride either Cannondale demo bikes or their own rigs just a couple of pre-ride thoughts: “Have fun and don’t crash the pros.”
We all took off on the loop ride that followed the American River bike trail and parallel suburban streets.
I loved the Evo. Light, quick, nice wheelset, Mavic Ksyrium elites, which cost a reasonable $700-$800. I was surprised to learn they cost about the same as the Ultegra wheelset on my bike, but they seemed to roll with a whole lot less resistance on the Evo for some reason. I’ve come to realize how key a nice wheelset is to a great ride, even if your frame isn't an ultra slick hotshot number like Evo. I love my Scott CR Team frame, a carbon fiber unit part of the bike's $2K price tag nearly four years ago. The Ultegra wheelset is fine, so I can't really complain about my ride. But I have to say, its paint job isn’t anywhere near as sweet at the Evo’s. And beautifully painted bikes are no doubt a big key to sales.
I chatted up Krizek on the ride, he said this was his first time to California, and the day before he rode across the Golden Gate Bridge. Not surprisingly, pro racers ride every day, he said, with a few rest days sprinkled in. Tall, tan, blond and thin, Krizek speaks Italian (kind of has to, since Cannondale Pro Cycling is based in Italy), German and English. Riding fast on flats and rollers are his specialty. Pro cycling has given Krizek a chance to travel the world. He’s glad he can do it while he’s young, he said, since he’s not sure if he’ll have the same travel opportunities later in life.
During the ride, Vogt took selfies of our group from his front position, and another rider had his Go-Pro helmet cam running as he took plenty of phone shots. I thought about taking a phone shot from within our peloton, but decided I’d better not risk a multi-tasking crash. Not worth it!
Chatting with another rider, Chad of El Dorado Hills, we both agreed that one of the greatest sounds associated with cycling is the whirring you hear in the middle of a peloton. It's the quiet, powerful music of pure energy of riders and bikes.
I took my Garmin bike computer on the ride just to check out the metrics of riding on the bike trail in a group vs. solo, which is the way I usually ride it. Our average speed was nearly 18 mph, a pace that was easy to keep in the group, even in the wind. I’ve ridden into similarly strong crosswinds and headwinds on the trail many times solo, and maintaining an 18 mph pace alone with those wind conditions is tough going.
The wind was strong out of the north, blowing tree branch debris onto the trail and one long thin branch landed on Chad’s lap as he rode. Brian, a Cannondale bike handler trailing our group, advised us just to ride over branches instead of veering to avoid them. Good advice, though the image of a flying branch getting caught in spokes made me think they could cause a crash.
After the ride, Cannondale provided sandwiches and drinks and we all ate and chatted in the alley behind the bike shop. Somebody asked Krizek about his worst fall. He said that in one crash he doesn't remember a thing. He later woke up in a hospital with a concussion, wondering what happened.
He said when he’s seen cyclists crash in a race from the perspective of an overhead helicopter camera, he is horrified at the mayhem and injuries that result. “I ask myself why I do this when I see that,” he said.
But he also said the pros just don’t think about crashing. They accept it as a risk of racing, and just think about how to ride the fastest they can for their team.
Somebody asked what was the weirdest run-along fan action he’d seen while climbing during a race. Krizek said the Borat imitators in the bibbed, slingshot marble bag thongs, which the Aussies call "budgie smugglers," for him, pretty much take the cake. One time he was amazed to see two guys having a boxing match on the side of the road, as racers passed them.
Chad had his 11-year-old son on his phone, and asked Krizek if he’d mind chatting with his son, who he said idolizes pro cyclists. Not at all, said Krizek. He took Chad’s phone and was happy to talk cycling with the kid. As we sat in folding chairs, munching on the food, both Krizek and Sagan enjoyed the California avocados included in the spread.
I asked Jaraj Sagan his specialty, and he replied: "Worker."
Jaraj, small but powerfully built, is shy and mild mannered. He and his big name brother Peter are inseparable when they’re not racing, according to Cannondale’s bio on him.
It's easy to forget that not all pros are big-name superstars, in fact most aren't. They're the guys leading pelotons, the so-called “domestiques” as the French call them, doing all the riding in the trenches for the good of the team. They distribute full water bottles to team riders which they pack under their jerseys after they load up on them from support cars. They switch off the front to do the hard pedaling and form the slipstreams that the star riders ride behind so they can save energy for their finishes.
Krizek and Jaraj seemed happy in their roles as pros out of the limelight. Just going on a promotional demo ride in California on a nice sunny day with a bunch of envious amateurs, having some lunch, seemed to be fine with them.
Amgen TOC, meanwhile had a great first stage, with Mark Cavendish’s photo finish win of a long, windy, hard-fought race. No better way to kick off what has emerged as the best pro cycling event in North America. Come back to Sacramento Amgen TOC. We love ya.
Til next time, remember to strap on a helmet every time you get on the bike. Then, make sure to keep the rubber side down. Be safe and have fun.
--Mark Eric Larson
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Don't hurry, be quickie
During the recent NCAA basketball playoffs in March, commentator Reggie Miller quoted the late great coach John Wooden, of Reggie's alma mater, UCLA. Reggie said one of Coach Wooden's maxims was: "Be quick. Don't be in a hurry."
That philosophy, it occurred to me, is good universal advice for just about any situation. And it's an especially good mindset to have while on the bike.
I've noticed that whenever I find myself in a hurry in everyday life, or on the bike, bad things happen. I make mistakes. I cause unnecessary mechanicals and sometimes fall and get hurt. That's exactly Coach Wooden's point. If we're in a rush, we don’t take care of the situation, we’re too busy looking ahead. We set the stage to make mistakes. But on the other hand, if we're quick, it's completely different. We're in the moment, in control and we act with purpose.
This happened to me a couple times recently while on the bike. I keep track of my average speed on a 51-mile out and back ride I do a lot just to keep the fat at bay. I've broken the ride down into a series of splits I track on my Garmin and have gotten familiar with what split times show a faster or slower than average pace.
On one recent ride, I had a nice, fast overall time about two-thirds into the ride. Knowing this gets me a little anxious, because I want to make sure I keep up the good pace, and I double down on going as fast as I can. So I had a hurry-up mindset. I came to a short, very steep pitch that climbs quickly from under a bridge, up to its sidewalk. Close to the base of the climb, I shifted to my small ring. But wanting to keep my speed to the max, I hurried the shift. The chain was thrown clear of the small ring. Spinning wildly with no chain, I hit the steep pitch, lost momentum and couldn't pull out of my clips. I fell to the right on the pavement, and scraped my elbow breaking my fall. I was miffed about losing my speed to a thrown chain. I got up, angry at myself for losing time and falling off the bike. I wondered if the fall knocked the rear derailleur out of alignment and if shifting would be a problem the rest of the ride. I looked behind me to see if anybody had seen my colossal bozo fall. There were no witnesses. But then I got a grip and realized I needed to: just. calm. down.
I put the chain back onto the small ring, and walked to the much flatter alternative route up to the bridge. At the time, I was sure what happened was a mechanical failure of my components. On the very next ride, the same thing happened, at the very same place. I’m happy to report I didn't fall off the bike the second time.
But after those two mishaps I test shifted from big ring to small when the gears weren't under maximum load, and there was no shifting problem. So the next time I hit that section, I made sure to shift to the small ring a little bit earlier than right at the base of the steep pitch. And the shift, not hurried, went smoothly.
Those little scenes told me one thing. If I shift in a hurry, the chances of a thrown chain go way up.
I've seen the pros throw chains the same way. In the Tour de France a few years ago, Alberto Contador passed Andy Schleck on a steep pitch, and because he was caught off guard, Schleck's reaction was a hurry-up, panic shift to a smaller ring. But he threw his chain, had to get off his bike, and Contador never looked back.
Once while riding with a buddy, I surprised him on a long, steep climb and passed him. His knee jerk reaction to stay with me was a hurry-up shift that jammed his chain into his derailleur sideways, and rendered his bike in need of expensive repair. I had to ride back to the truck so we could get home and he could take his messed up chain and derailleur to the shop.
So.... now I try to catch myself whenever I feel rushed or in a hurry on the bike. Just to keep the operator errors to a minimum for a better shot to keep mechanicals and/or injury out of the ride.
Where did THAT come from?
After a series of frustrating experiences of late, I was proud of myself for taking them in stride. I didn't lash out or melt down, even though a few times it seemed the only sane reaction to what was happening (work-related BS). Instead I did what the Dude advises in such circumstances. I abided. Or at least I thought I had. When I told my buddy Marc about a particularly harsh setback, he had good advice.
"Get on your bike and clear your mind," he said.
This, I’ve come to learn, is always good advice, unless the weather’s bad. I got out on the bike and rode my regular 51-miler. Egged on by an annoying TCFS rider that passed me, I burst into high gear on one of my regular short sprint segments, and hit an uphill speed far faster (19-20 mph vs. a typical 14-15 mph) than I'd ever ridden on that stretch. I did the same thing on my final sprint to end my ride, which involved passing, ironically, the same rider, quite a bit later in the day!
The source of that extra energy, I thought later, was a molten core of pent-up frustration in my body that funneled some serious giddy-up into the legs. I'd tapped into pure firepower I didn’t even know was there. Who knew?
Let it go, bro
Ever have the experience of riding down a steep descent, when you swear you hear your bike calling on you to let it go all out, full speed? I have, for sure. They say that's what ski racers have to do in order to get down a course as fast as possible. They have to let fear be damned and let the skis run as fast as they want to. That's what my bike says to me on speedy downhills: "Let me run, full out, no brakes!" It usually happens when I'm holding off my full downhill speed a bit because I feel close to losing control. But when I have pushed through the fear window and let the descent speed happen full on, I've had the biggest thrills of all on the bike. But the key is to have a sense when pushing through the fear is smart, in which case there are thrills to be had, or not, when there can be the disaster of losing control and crashing. It's a slippery slope, but hey, that's just one example of why we ride, right?
Safety is no accident…
On a recent ride I came upon a rider that had fallen off his bike, and was lying face down on the asphalt, a T-shirt wrapped around his head. One of his shoes was on the other side of the trail. Other riders had stopped and were calling for help, it looked like he was the only one hurt. After they confirmed they were handling it, I rode on, stunned at how serious the guy may have been hurt. He didn't seem to be unconscious, but he wasn't moving, and may have suffered a tremendous head smack on the asphalt. It didn't look like he'd been wearing a helmet. On the way back, an ambulance had come and they were loading him in.
This is the type of scene that makes you think about the fragility of staying injury free while riding a bike. This was a Saturday afternoon, the guy was out on a cruiser bike, likely enjoying his day, until whatever happened made him crash. It looked like he may have tried to avoid hitting another bike, but I couldn't tell for sure. But his day ended with a trip to the hospital, and maybe a devastating head injury that may have changed his life for the worse, forever.
Wearing a helmet won't necessarily stop a head injury from happening, but it can lessen the odds of it happening.
A friend recently was out spinning on his bike and got his front tire wedged in a groove, possibly a railroad track. He was thrown off his bike and fell hard on the pavement. He dislocated a shoulder, hurt an arm and hit his head in the fall. But his helmet took the blow and cracked, saving his cranium. He's always talked up the need for every rider to wear a helmet, for the very reason of what just happened to him. He was lucky, but only because he did the right thing. He wore a helmet. If he hadn’t, he may have been sipping soup the rest of his life.
Deals, schmeals
I'd asked for a new pair of padded riding gloves for Christmas, and my wife got me the ones I wanted online. They were a major brand, not cheap. But as I wore them on rides I discovered the padding on the hand side of the gloves, which is key to keeping your hands comfortable, was all but minimal, almost flat, like they didn't sew in all the padding they should have. I recently bought a new pair at a bike store, and was able to make sure the hand padding was nice and thick on the gloves, as advertised. Online shopping can be convenient -- until you don't get what you ordered. Buy at the shops with the best deals for your bike stuff. Online buying, especially when you add in shipping costs, might not be a deal. But definitely sometimes they're winners.
Til next time, remember to put on a helmet every time you get on the bike. And then, do whatever it takes to keep the rubber side down.
Have fun and be safe out there.
— Mark Eric Larson
That philosophy, it occurred to me, is good universal advice for just about any situation. And it's an especially good mindset to have while on the bike.
I've noticed that whenever I find myself in a hurry in everyday life, or on the bike, bad things happen. I make mistakes. I cause unnecessary mechanicals and sometimes fall and get hurt. That's exactly Coach Wooden's point. If we're in a rush, we don’t take care of the situation, we’re too busy looking ahead. We set the stage to make mistakes. But on the other hand, if we're quick, it's completely different. We're in the moment, in control and we act with purpose.
This happened to me a couple times recently while on the bike. I keep track of my average speed on a 51-mile out and back ride I do a lot just to keep the fat at bay. I've broken the ride down into a series of splits I track on my Garmin and have gotten familiar with what split times show a faster or slower than average pace.
On one recent ride, I had a nice, fast overall time about two-thirds into the ride. Knowing this gets me a little anxious, because I want to make sure I keep up the good pace, and I double down on going as fast as I can. So I had a hurry-up mindset. I came to a short, very steep pitch that climbs quickly from under a bridge, up to its sidewalk. Close to the base of the climb, I shifted to my small ring. But wanting to keep my speed to the max, I hurried the shift. The chain was thrown clear of the small ring. Spinning wildly with no chain, I hit the steep pitch, lost momentum and couldn't pull out of my clips. I fell to the right on the pavement, and scraped my elbow breaking my fall. I was miffed about losing my speed to a thrown chain. I got up, angry at myself for losing time and falling off the bike. I wondered if the fall knocked the rear derailleur out of alignment and if shifting would be a problem the rest of the ride. I looked behind me to see if anybody had seen my colossal bozo fall. There were no witnesses. But then I got a grip and realized I needed to: just. calm. down.
I put the chain back onto the small ring, and walked to the much flatter alternative route up to the bridge. At the time, I was sure what happened was a mechanical failure of my components. On the very next ride, the same thing happened, at the very same place. I’m happy to report I didn't fall off the bike the second time.
But after those two mishaps I test shifted from big ring to small when the gears weren't under maximum load, and there was no shifting problem. So the next time I hit that section, I made sure to shift to the small ring a little bit earlier than right at the base of the steep pitch. And the shift, not hurried, went smoothly.
Those little scenes told me one thing. If I shift in a hurry, the chances of a thrown chain go way up.
I've seen the pros throw chains the same way. In the Tour de France a few years ago, Alberto Contador passed Andy Schleck on a steep pitch, and because he was caught off guard, Schleck's reaction was a hurry-up, panic shift to a smaller ring. But he threw his chain, had to get off his bike, and Contador never looked back.
Once while riding with a buddy, I surprised him on a long, steep climb and passed him. His knee jerk reaction to stay with me was a hurry-up shift that jammed his chain into his derailleur sideways, and rendered his bike in need of expensive repair. I had to ride back to the truck so we could get home and he could take his messed up chain and derailleur to the shop.
So.... now I try to catch myself whenever I feel rushed or in a hurry on the bike. Just to keep the operator errors to a minimum for a better shot to keep mechanicals and/or injury out of the ride.
Where did THAT come from?
After a series of frustrating experiences of late, I was proud of myself for taking them in stride. I didn't lash out or melt down, even though a few times it seemed the only sane reaction to what was happening (work-related BS). Instead I did what the Dude advises in such circumstances. I abided. Or at least I thought I had. When I told my buddy Marc about a particularly harsh setback, he had good advice.
"Get on your bike and clear your mind," he said.
This, I’ve come to learn, is always good advice, unless the weather’s bad. I got out on the bike and rode my regular 51-miler. Egged on by an annoying TCFS rider that passed me, I burst into high gear on one of my regular short sprint segments, and hit an uphill speed far faster (19-20 mph vs. a typical 14-15 mph) than I'd ever ridden on that stretch. I did the same thing on my final sprint to end my ride, which involved passing, ironically, the same rider, quite a bit later in the day!
The source of that extra energy, I thought later, was a molten core of pent-up frustration in my body that funneled some serious giddy-up into the legs. I'd tapped into pure firepower I didn’t even know was there. Who knew?
Let it go, bro
Ever have the experience of riding down a steep descent, when you swear you hear your bike calling on you to let it go all out, full speed? I have, for sure. They say that's what ski racers have to do in order to get down a course as fast as possible. They have to let fear be damned and let the skis run as fast as they want to. That's what my bike says to me on speedy downhills: "Let me run, full out, no brakes!" It usually happens when I'm holding off my full downhill speed a bit because I feel close to losing control. But when I have pushed through the fear window and let the descent speed happen full on, I've had the biggest thrills of all on the bike. But the key is to have a sense when pushing through the fear is smart, in which case there are thrills to be had, or not, when there can be the disaster of losing control and crashing. It's a slippery slope, but hey, that's just one example of why we ride, right?
Safety is no accident…
On a recent ride I came upon a rider that had fallen off his bike, and was lying face down on the asphalt, a T-shirt wrapped around his head. One of his shoes was on the other side of the trail. Other riders had stopped and were calling for help, it looked like he was the only one hurt. After they confirmed they were handling it, I rode on, stunned at how serious the guy may have been hurt. He didn't seem to be unconscious, but he wasn't moving, and may have suffered a tremendous head smack on the asphalt. It didn't look like he'd been wearing a helmet. On the way back, an ambulance had come and they were loading him in.
This is the type of scene that makes you think about the fragility of staying injury free while riding a bike. This was a Saturday afternoon, the guy was out on a cruiser bike, likely enjoying his day, until whatever happened made him crash. It looked like he may have tried to avoid hitting another bike, but I couldn't tell for sure. But his day ended with a trip to the hospital, and maybe a devastating head injury that may have changed his life for the worse, forever.
Wearing a helmet won't necessarily stop a head injury from happening, but it can lessen the odds of it happening.
A friend recently was out spinning on his bike and got his front tire wedged in a groove, possibly a railroad track. He was thrown off his bike and fell hard on the pavement. He dislocated a shoulder, hurt an arm and hit his head in the fall. But his helmet took the blow and cracked, saving his cranium. He's always talked up the need for every rider to wear a helmet, for the very reason of what just happened to him. He was lucky, but only because he did the right thing. He wore a helmet. If he hadn’t, he may have been sipping soup the rest of his life.
Deals, schmeals
I'd asked for a new pair of padded riding gloves for Christmas, and my wife got me the ones I wanted online. They were a major brand, not cheap. But as I wore them on rides I discovered the padding on the hand side of the gloves, which is key to keeping your hands comfortable, was all but minimal, almost flat, like they didn't sew in all the padding they should have. I recently bought a new pair at a bike store, and was able to make sure the hand padding was nice and thick on the gloves, as advertised. Online shopping can be convenient -- until you don't get what you ordered. Buy at the shops with the best deals for your bike stuff. Online buying, especially when you add in shipping costs, might not be a deal. But definitely sometimes they're winners.
Til next time, remember to put on a helmet every time you get on the bike. And then, do whatever it takes to keep the rubber side down.
Have fun and be safe out there.
— Mark Eric Larson
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