By Seth Gernot
It was the best of ideas, it was the worst of ideas. Well, at least it was an idea. Pictured above are two people that are having fun, right?
Fun isn’t the right word. It was a combination of fun, pain, and pain. We still can’t figure out who had the idea to ride to DC in 24 hours on a tandem…
The last you may have heard from us, Rebecca and I were poised for our trip. The support crew was ready, the gear was all set, and the weather was looking beautiful. The start was set for 7:30 a.m. at Point State Park in downtown Pittsburgh.
I don’t know about you, but I get pretty excited before big events. My inner child gets all wound up. Sometimes sleep is hard to come by when you’re on the precipice of something big. So, I figured drinking a single bottle of beer around 9 p.m. the night before would help usher in a couple of sinking eyelids.
Instead of grabbing a bottle opener I took a shortcut and popped the top off with my multi-tool. I’m not very good at this maneuver. Not very good at all. In fact, in one quick motion the cap flew off, the multi-tool broke the bottle, and the big knuckle on my right index finger drove into the newly shattered bottle. It was bad, quite bad. And the timing was awful. I needed sleep more than stitches. So, gauze and a duct tape was all that was used to stop the bleeding.
The next morning Rebecca inquired about the liberal use of duct tape on my now swollen hand. I admitted that the cut was pretty serious, but the show must go on. I decided then that a full-fingered glove would be placed over the hand and not removed until we reached Washington D.C.
As you can tell from the statements above, I am not a doctor. But, I can ride a bike and I’m kinda stubborn, so let’s continue and see what happened next.Tweet
It was only a matter of time before someone started a Tumblr of the NYPD (and others) parking in the city’s bike lanes.Tweet
On the twelfth anniversary of the terrorist attacks of 9/11, the September 11th National Memorial Trail Alliance is putting into action the plan to finish a series of bike paths connecting the cities where the planes crashed and the memorials to the victims.
According to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Somerset County, Pa., has received $100,000 in grants to begin work to connect a path from Shanksville, Pa., where Flight 93 crashed, to the Great Allegheny Passage. The GAP trail, along with the C&O Canal Towpath, already connect Pittsburgh with Washington D.C. where Flight 77 struck the Pentagon.
From there the trail will extend up the East Coat Greenway, a long-term project to connect all the major cities on the East Coast with a traffic-free corridor.
The final leg, from New York to Shanksville will follow roads and rail trails through central Pennsylvania, though the exact route has not been decided.
In Summer of 2011, alpinist Kyle Dempster set out across Kyrgyzstan’s back roads on his bike. His goal – ride across the country via old Soviet roads while climbing as many of the region’s impressive peaks as possible. He was alone. He carried only a minimalist’s ration of climbing gear. Ten Kyrgyz words rounded out his vocabulary. He’d purchased his bike just weeks before and had never bike toured.
Upon arrival, Kyle found himself pulled into the Kyrgyz culture – heavy drinking, friendly curiosity and families carving existences out of yurts in the foothill. From his maps, he picked a circuitous path of back roads between the regions incredible mountains. When he arrived, he found that the roads had been abandoned. Crumbling roads led deeper into the heart the Kyrgyz wilderness before disappearing all together. After crossing a few rivers and nearly being swept away in the process, Dempster realized that his path back was blocked. He had to keep, pedaling, pushing and carrying his bike. It meant crossing rivers raging with summer snow melt and navigating game trails.Tweet
Seth Gernot and Rebecca Rankin cranking up Canton Avenue in Pittsburgh, the steepest paved road in the world.
The 335 miles of bike trail connecting Pittsburgh to Washington D.C. has never been ridden in 24 hours. A Pittsburgh couple will not only accomplish this feat on Friday, they’ll do it on a tandem. After successfully setting the bar as the first co-ed tandem riders to complete Pittsburgh’s famous Dirty Dozen ride in 2012, the couple is ready for anything.
While the couple has ridden long distances before, nothing will compare with the test ahead along the Great Allegheny Passage and C&O Canal Towpath. “A couple of years ago we rode 150 miles in a day to Cleveland. I wasn’t used to pedaling for that long and ended up dry-heaving during the last four miles… but we made it,” said Rebecca.
She is no stranger to physical challenge. As a dedicated Bikram Yoga instructor Rebecca has taken on the challenge of completing eight Bikram classes in a day. She admits that, “Spending 12 hours in a humid 105 degree yoga room is incredibly difficult, but riding to DC in twenty four hours is daunting.”Tweet
By Trina Haynes
As a bike lover and advocate, I enjoy showing off my love for bicycles anywhere and everywhere. I can’t walk into a shindig with my bike as a hat, so I indulge in bicycle related jewelry and accessories. There is a plethora of companies big and small offering cycling-related jewelry these days. You can find recycled inner tube jewelry, stainless steel and glass pendants, blinged-out chain bracelets, upcycled headset necklaces and much, much more.
Today I want to share a few of my favorite and most frequently worn bicycle-related jewelry items. Almost everything handmade I’m a fan of, and if you involve a bike or bike-related product in the design and I will have a hard time controlling the urge to spend.
Elizabeth Klevens makes handmade fused glass, bike mosaic and sterling silver pendants in a multiple of styles. One of my favorites is the circular “Ride Like a Girl ” necklace that goes for $35. You can add in a satin cord with a stainless steel clasp for $10 more. If you’re into mountain biking she has a “Singletrack Mind” in the same cut, just for you. Her gorgeous, handmade necklace pendants range from $35-$75. You can find them here.
Another one of my favorites is Becky Tesch’s handmade, recycled innertube cuff bracelet. This one is cut into a flower design and I have taken such a liking to it, I wear everyday. Dress it up or dress it down, either way it looks pretty swank. She also makes innertube necklaces and earrings, as well as a variety of colored chain bracelets. You can find her wares here.
Last on the list, earrings! I used to only wear earrings on special occasions, but when a friend sent me these innertube earrings cut to look like feathers, I started wearing earrings again just so I could wear these a couple times a week. Unlike real feather earrings, these inner tube ones will, hopefully, not be attacked or eaten by your cat. They are also sturdy enough to handle a helmet strap and not fall apart. I do not know where he got them, only that they are mine now. (Thanks Andrew!) Here is a link to the ones that looks the most similar to mine.
Have a few of your own favorites?!
After losing title sponsor New Belgium Brewing for 2013, the Urban Assault Ride took 2013 off to rebuild and refine its ‘best day on the bike’ that you can imagine: amazing obstacles, great after party, cool people, and the best sponsors (including Bicycle Times).
Now it’s looking for your input on where you’d like to see it stop in its nationwide tour in 2014. Visit the Urban Assault Ride Facebook page, vote for a city (or write one in) and you’ll get a $20 coupon off registration.
So far the leaders are:
- Des Moines
- St Louis
Where do you want it to visit?Tweet
Editor’s note: We were tipped off to this story by Jeff Jones, creator and namesake of the Jones mountain bikes. Olsen rode his Jones 2,858.75 miles to finish fifth in the 2013 Tour Divide from Banff, Alberta, to Antelope Wells, N.M.
Words and photos by James Olsen.
Just over a week ago I arrived at Antelope Wells after 17 days and about 5 hours of the most intense riding experience of my life. I’m back at home now, I’ve been meaning to get something written down for a few days and it’s only now I’m starting to accept that it’s in the past, no longer waking in the night feeling that it’s time to get up and roll along the trail for a while, warming up before settling in for another long day in the saddle. The Tour Divide was everything I went out there for, it was beautiful, intense and at times almost crushingly hard and it got the best out of me.
Firstly, my bike and kit. I bought a Jones Titanium Spaceframe a couple of years ago and it changed my riding. Really, this wasn’t just new-bike love. Longer rides went by in comfort, the handling was addictive and motivated me to ride almost every day and the comfort meant my rides got longer and my fitness improved noticeably.
I bought a steel diamond frame with truss fork for holidays and bikepacking trips and found it was the perfect tool for the job. Comfy and efficient but also a huge amount of fun downhill—a bike-packer ride that wasn’t ever dull or a compromise when we found unexpected gems of trails. Not once did I think “If only I had my susser here…” on those trips. For the Divide there really isn’t a bike I’d have felt so confident in.
I used my steel diamond frame for the frame-bag space and the Ti truss fork for less weight–it all counted. The Velocity P35 rims let me use my tires at maybe 17-18 psi at times when the washboard roads were beating me up, or simply when I wanted to roll more easily along the rougher trails. Others were sticking to 40+ psi and thinner, lighter rims and I think I had an advantage there. I’m certain I was getting less beat up than other riders.
I used Geax Saguaro 2.2 tires that do roll very well and work well on both loose or hard ground but I think a bigger tyre would have been a wiser choice. Fast-rolling 2.4 tires aren’t so widely available but perhaps the tread is less important at lower pressures. On the roads an Ardent 2.4 at 40psi would’ve been slower than the Saguaro, but on balance it may have been faster or comfier over the rougher sections. I saw a couple of Surly 29×3.0 Knard-equipped bikes on the route and eyed up their tires enviously.
A Ti Loop H-bar was the perfect bar for this kind of ride, plenty of space for lights, computer, route maps etc as well as the grip options. A good number of racers were using them this year.
I used a single 34t oval chainring and a 12-28 six-speed modified cassette on a Hope singlespeed hub, using three single-speed cogs and three Shimano cassette cogs stacked up. This was a really hard-wearing combo in the gears I used 80 percent of the time (16, 19 and 22 rear) and I was confident 2,800 miles wouldn’t put too much wear on them. The shifting wasn’t as slick as a normal cassette but it was ok, like a singlespeed with a few options either side of my usual 34-19 ratio.
The straight chain line and front single ring would have been a benefit in the infamous Divide mud, but it was my downfall on a fast road section at the end. A triple may have been a wiser move, certainly if I’d known it was going to be generally so fast and dry I would have fitted one. Shifting was done by a bar-end shifter with a Paul Component mount and I used XTR v-brake levers on BB7 brakes with 160mm and 180mm rotors. Pre-greased cables were a little sticky at first but ran smooth the whole way and I only used one set of pads. My wheel set uses the same spokes throughout so I only carried 2 spare spokes. All my kit came to around 11 lbs., just under 2 lbs. for my sleeping kit on the bars, 3 to 4 lbs. of clothes and waterproofs in the seat pack, the rest was a camelback for food and water and in my frame bag that had extra space for a full 2-liter water bladder if needed.
As for the ride, the Tour Divide isn’t that well known outside mountain bike circles but the number of entrants has increased sharply the last few years and blue-dot watching (trackleaders.com) has added a new spectator dimension to races like this. This year there were 140 or more of us, mostly gathered at the YMCA Lodge in Banff on the morning of June 14, heading south.
I guess most of us had discovered bikepacking in recent years, seen “Ride the Divide” or read Jill Homer or Paul Howard’s books and been hooked on the idea. Some had been planning the race for a couple of years, others for less time. I fell into the “less time” group. At New Year’s I decided I wanted to do something committing on the bike and the Tour Divide was big and exciting enough to really motivate me (fear is a good motivator I found).
Multiple-race-winner Matthew Lee’s posts on Divide racing attitudes and ethics on a forum clinched it for me, it was a race that seemed to appeal when racing rarely does so. For five months my spare time was focussed on little else. There was no race experience in my past to base any confidence on but I had done plenty of reasonably long rides and bivi trips in the past. I feel at home when alone and outdoors and I love sleeping under the stars. I felt confident in my self-sufficiency and felt that I could answer a reasonably confident “yes” to the “Are you up to this?” check-list on the Tour Divide site. Or at least, ‘yes, after some preparation’.
I also had found the perfect bike for my long rides and overseas trips in my Jones bike. What I needed to do was get myself in shape for the demands of the race, finalize my kit and decide on some kind of strategy.
I wanted to race in a certain style, influenced by what I’d read about the original Great Divide race and Matthew Lee’s approach to Divide racing. I really wanted the Divide to be a tunnel that I entered into with the only way back to home comforts being the finish line, or retirement from the race. That meant (to me) racing without a phone or GPS, being 100 percent reliant on myself for bike servicing or repairs and I wanted to sleep out trail-side every night and find a rhythm that worked with daylight hours and my body clock to maximize rest or minimize physical and mental disruption.
The Divide route was to be an open-air experience and roofs were off-limits between start and finish. I think a few more storms would have tested that aim towards the end, but I’m happy that the stormy nights were times when I pushed on out of town in the evenings, set up camp in the dark downpour and lay safe under my small tarp as the lightning lit up the fabric every few moments. Other nights, the storm threatened, tested my resolve then backed down and let me rest with only a light drizzle that couldn’t disturb my coma-like sleep.
Before the race I said that these ideals or ethics may cost me a few places but racing style was important to me, I had some kind of “clean, onsight” kind of climbing ethics in mind that could only really be done once as a rookie on the route. Ask me about ethics after I mis-read my cues again or rode miles past a turn and spent a stressful time uncertain whether it was the right one and you’d have got a different angle on Divide racing! GPS is a good thing if you want to go fast and phones are a faster way to find out about fire diversions, but adventure and uncertainty is also part of the experience.
I think I had a couple of advantages in the race that made up for a lack of race experience and helped keep me in the top five most of the race. One was being happy to sleep trail-side anywhere and in almost any weather which saved me time, the other was having reliable equipment. I was confident in my bike and gear as I’d used it in roughly a Divide’s worth of distance of bikepacking and touring trips before without a single issue. Some of my kit was fairly new but simply a lighter or simpler version of what I’d used before. Some other things I’d do differently next time having completed the race, but that’s always the case with an experience of that magnitude.
The training went well and I enjoyed the long overnight and weekend rides I did in preparation. By the time the race came around I was nervous, scared almost, but raring to go. If you love long rides and existing with the minimum of possessions the Great Divide is a wonderful place to be. Remote in places but rarely dauntingly so, it’s a route where you’ll often feel very small under dramatic skies and expansive views. The feeling of open space is simply huge. If it wasn’t a race there would have been times when I would have got off my bike and just sat or stood in the middle of these great spaces, trying to take it all in. But it was a race and that added a pressure I never predicted.
I’d ended up in the top 10 on day two; when Billy Rice (a northbound rider nearing Banff, who would then turn around to ride south, completing the first TDR double last week) stopped to say hi and tell me there weren’t many ahead of me I realized I was making my way towards the front of the field. After that there was no letting up, I wanted to do well. If I was going to be happier at a slower speed I could tour the route another time.
Naturally I found myself close to other riders on different strategies and with different strengths but the Divide evens things out soon enough. Racing so closely with Alex Harris for over 2,000 miles taught me a lot as well as stretched my ability and my mental strength, I found I could pedal longer and harder than I expected but the lack of sleep and need to compete with a very experienced racer/adventurer was tough, it wore my nerves down at times but it also stopped me slipping into default tourer mode when I felt tired or close to being beaten by the scale of the route.
I don’t think we were ever more than a few hours apart and all I could go on were tire tracks. If there weren’t any signs of Alex’s tire tracks ahead of me, every time I stopped for any reason I was looking behind me and the pressure built. I learned soon after riding with Alex for the first time that he had experience and a source of strength that I would find it hard to compete with when things got difficult, and it was simply a case of when that happened, not if it would.
Things got difficult after La Manga pass, going into New Mexico. Alex and I were low on food but had eaten well in Platoro, 30 miles or so earlier. We were headed into the first of New Mexico’s wilderness stretches, the Cruces Basin, a very beautiful area that we first saw through rain and a fog of hypoglycaemia as we separately tried to make 800 or so calories each last well over a hundred miles of mixed ground. At times it was among the hardest terrain of the route and all of it was at high altitude.
We both knew it’d be hard as we went in, we’d briefly debated the wisdom of going off-route for 30 miles for food or the ethics of hitching off-route. I didn’t want to hitch or delay but I also wanted food. I remembered Aidan Harding’s comments about considering how a racer-to-be would feel when much-needed resupply points were closed, leaving another half-day’s ride to the next point. I thought it was something I could cope with.
Bravado was called out as Alex decided to head into the wilderness. I think the racer in him knew it could be a pivotal moment in our two-man race. Maybe he was just calling my bluff, I don’t know. But I had to follow. As I pushed uphill in the rain to save what little energy I had only ten miles in, he slowly rode away and I felt alone for the first time in the race. I’d enjoyed riding alone for so many miles before that and at times I wanted to break away from Alex simply to ride alone again, but after the first week’s fatigue I wasn’t up to putting more than relatively brief, almost futile gaps between us and I also enjoyed his company.
The Divide racers’ dilemma perhaps, you need a strong head to race the entire route solo, refusing any company. Further up the trail I found half of the small bag of trail mix that a couple on quad bikes had given us earlier. Alex had split it and left it clearly on the trail… “This really was half, honest! : ) ” it said on the bag. Riding alone was losing its appeal, tough times are better faced as a team but this was a solo race and more so now than before it really felt like a serious, solo race for me.
Dark, irrational thoughts closed in and I thought I may end up losing a few places as I walked, then stumbled, for miles and miles to the next potential food supply but my decision had been made and only I could affect the outcome or take the blame.
It turns out that years of long rides and often-poor pace management had taught me a lot about managing “the bonk” and by eating a tiny amount every twenty minutes I eventually stabilized and perhaps much of my lethargy was due to altitude, or caution-induced. I then had a reckless moment when I ate more than half of my only cliff bar in one go and as the sun went down my energy returned. I caught Alex shortly after turning my lights on and we rode together until we emerged onto a five-mile road climb between the wilderness/forest park areas at around 11 p.m.
It felt like a fairly lucky escape but there were still 50 or more miles to go before any hope of resupply. I was pretty sure that the first possible source of food would be shut anyway, as often had been the way. “Don’t get your hopes up”. I chose to bivi there and rest despite saying earlier that pushing on through the night was a good plan, since by then it was a clear night and getting colder and shivering costs calories. My thin but cosy down bag and cushy Neo-air mat was calling again. Alex had only a bivi bag and down jacket so he pushed on to the next shelter which turned out to be only six miles away. We remained within an hour or less of each other but all I knew the next morning was that I was following his tracks again.
The next day in the town of Abiqui I bought the Divider’s breakfast of two double cheeseburgers each with fries, a large milkshake and large Coke but only after being unable to get any cash at a post office and riding past two cash-only shops over the previous 30 miles. I was also caught at the post office by Liam Crowley who may not have got the friendly hello he deserved from this tired, run-down rider. Sorry Liam… He then gave me a spare bar in a generous offer that I won’t forget.
From that point on, I saw a lot more of Liam. He’d been behind us for almost a week but something had lit his fire and he was riding well, he’d closed a half-day or more gap with what must have been a tough all-nighter across the Cruces Basin from Platoro, a big effort that didn’t seem to cost him in the long term.
In the final miles of our Tour Divide we passed each other as we napped separately for an hour or so or paused at food or water points within 125 miles of the finish. I wanted to ride right through to the finish but sleep deprivation was building and mild, continual hallucinations affected me and falling asleep on the bike for brief moments happened too regularly. Waking and swerving across the road without crashing showed how in tune you can get with your bike after 17 days of almost continual riding but there was a real risk that I’d crash out of the race within sight of the finish.
I had an hour and a half’s sleep under a tree as light rain continued to fall and was back on the bike soon after 4:30 a.m. As dawn broke across the beautiful final desert stretch I was riding strongly but following in Alex and Liam’s tire tracks. Passed Separ, I saw no tracks and got my head down for the last 65 miles of road to Antelope Wells. Tears welled in my eyes as I realized I really was going to finish the Tour Divide, relief that it was almost over was mixed with sadness of a journey’s end, something magical grasped.
I thought I may be about to finish third, unthinkable to me really despite having spent a number of days between third and fourth position and as good as that thought felt, I tried not to dwell on it. It just didn’t seem possible. When I saw two dots behind me on the horizon I upped my pace to my limit, I felt good that morning and thought I could hold the pace for another 35 miles to the finish but whether I actually could, I’m not sure.
My 34×12 top gear was good for a speed that was about as high as a rider with 2,800 miles in their legs could maintain, but Alex slowly reeled me in. I sat up and we regrouped as Liam joined us. For a few miles the pace dwindled and we joked about all of us being caught again as we slowed up – half seriously, as we knew Brian Pal (top US rider that year) had been riding strongly and gaining ground in the last few days.
A truck drove past and pulled into the road side. A big guy in a checked shirt, Texan hat and suspenders got out and stood in the center of the road. His pose was pure wild-west, ready to draw. As we rolled up to him he smiled and held out cans of cold condensation-dripping Coke. Lloyd and Roger Payne, thank you for the best welcome committee possible. Racing was off the cards as we drank two cold Cokes each, then it went back on the agenda as a final sprint was mentioned.
From the one mile out roadside marker.
We were at mile three and I was itching to go. I did feel good, but I was tired enough not to realize that my 34×12 top gear wasn’t going to get me past either Liam or Alex on a flat road. But finishing as racers was the only fitting way to finish, there wasn’t to be any joint-placings among us.
By the time we wound up the sprint, I was back in 5th spot watching the others ride away over the last few hundred yards. It wasn’t a welcome sight yet somehow places mattered less to me then. In the early days I was elated to be top 10, as I moved up the field the only place that mattered was the one I held then and the racing had motivated the best riding I’d done. Ranking mattered less to me than how we’d ridden and coped with the challenges, racing all the way yet happy to ride together when our timing and pace matched.
I’d stuck to my no outside-influence bike service and sleep-out-every-night plans and had nothing but pride and satisfaction for how the race had gone. I’d finished, after all. As much as I’d have turned myself inside out to have got third place, Alex truly deserved his podium spot and at the time I’d have traded that cliff bar with Liam for a place any day. The 17 days had gone by in a blur of huge vistas and wide-eyed discovery, tiredness and endorphins and massive appetites. I’d ridden in sublime places with great people and seen how welcoming small-town American people could be toward tired, smelly bike racers with accents they rarely could place. I’d met Kirsten at Brush Mountain Lodge and Megan and Clay at the Toaster house for not much more than an hour or two and it had felt like I’d known them for years. All the fatigue and pain that was to follow as my body went into a minor breakdown a few hours after finishing were worth it.
And I’m looking forward to tomorrow – unboxing my Jones, simply lubing the chain and riding my local trails again.
See more of James’ photos from his trip in his Flickr gallery.Tweet
By Karen Brooks
We’ve wrapped up issue #24, and even as you read this it’s making its way to your door and to your favorite magazine retailer or you can pick up a copy in our store. Here’s a sneak peek:
A Guide to Cargo Bikes
Cargo bikes are increasingly replacing SUVs as a means to get around town with large items and family members in tow. (They’re a lot more fun for all involved!) We figured some more of you would want to know about how to bring a cargo bike into your life. Our tech editor, Eric McKeegan, has become our resident expert on cargo bikes over the years, having done the majority of our cargo bike reviews as well as riding and experimenting on his own, so here he breaks down the different types available and what situations they’re good for.
We also talked to a trio of parents who have become experts at bringing kids along via cargo bike and gleaned tips on how to stay safe, deal with weather and keep it fun, among other considerations. (Hint: snacks are key.)
Sign Sprints in Champagne
This is a lighthearted account, accompanied by some stunning photos, of a group of friends touring the Champagne region of France. Have some good snacks handy, and maybe even a glass of bubbly, when you read this one.
Portland’s Naked Bike Ride
We’ve previously featured stories from globetrotter Joshua Samuel Brown about riding in Taiwan and Los Angeles, but now he’s found his future hometown on U.S. soil: that haven of bike-friendliness, Portland, Oregon. He braved a local traditional ride to get more… um… intimate with his new neighbors.
Interview with Paul Freedman of Rock the Bike and the Bicycle Music Festival
Our fearless leader Maurice is also our de facto Bay Area correspondent. He ran across the completely pedal-powered Bicycle Music Festival, both stationary and rolling along the streets of San Francisco, and decided to find out more about it. As it turns out, one of the founders is none other than Fossil Fool, a bike rapper we first encountered on the streets of Las Vegas during the Interbike trade show.
- Xtracycle EdgeRunner
- Trek Domane 4.5
- Norco Indie Drop 1
- Cannondale Quick CX3
- And more
By Trina Haynes
Some kids pick up a bike at a young age and it’s instant kismet, and others… well… not so much.
My 11-year-old daughter has shown minimal interest in bicycles since her first introduction at age three. As soon as we sat her on her little plastic scoot-style bike, with joyous faces “she’s going to be a little ripper!”… Nope. Screaming and clamoring to get off this evil, vampiric contraption followed suit.
We tried just letting the toddler bike sit there and maybe she would become interested. Nope.
We tried “Look, Mommy and Daddy ride bikes. Wheeee!”. Nope.
This went on for years. She eventually gave into some enjoyment in her bike trailer. Then she graduated to a tag-along, but would never sit on her own training-wheeled bike. Finally, I think at age eight, she started to cruise around on a 10-inch with training wheels, but only in the house and of course it was way to small for her.
By age nine she loved going on rides, as long as it was she was attached to someone else, trail-a-bike style.
At that point we bought her a fancy new bike, which she picked out. She loved it and agreed to practice gliding on it. We dropped the seat, took the pedals off and she was off. Once she understood the concept of balance and gliding on a bike, with a few glide crashes under her belt, we made the decision that the pedals must go on regardless of her refusal.
If you’re a parent, you probably have a good idea of the repercussions. Boycott the bike! Sigh… Eventually (talking at least a month or two) she gave in to just gliding with the pedals on. Her little brother, gliding around, happy as can be, definitely helped.
This went on for months, refusing to touch or put her feet on or near the pedals while gliding. I take full blame for the stubborn gene she has. Then, last weekend, the hubby and I couldn’t take it anymore. The parental foot went down! “We are going to learn to pedal today! And it’s going to be amazing! (Dammit!)”
A few hours of crying, attitude and excuses occured…. Then, tears running down her cheeks and puffy-eyed, she got on her bike.
First we practiced getting the feet up on the pedals while gliding, not even pedaling just sitting them there. Then brakes and feet down, means you stop. Continuing to remind her, “you control the bike, it’s not going to do a back-flip on you, or bust out some kung-fu action to knock you off.” That little step was mastered quickly. Phew, step 1 done!
Then, running along side her, encouraging her to do a pedal stroke. This took hours, one pedal stroke (yeah!), then three (heck yeah!). We continued with this for two days, a good majority of the day, taking breaks, drinking, eating, and trying again and again. Until this…
Of course, I was wiping away motherly proud tears and doing the happy dance in my head. My point is every kid will enjoy riding a bike, no matter how intimidated and afraid they might be and sometimes it is good to let kids take riding a bike at their own pace. And sometimes they need a big push.
It makes me very sad to see reports that children riding bikes in the United States is dropping substantially every year. School districts are not allowing kids to ride bikes to and from school anymore. It infuriates me that adults who as children rode and played in the streets now yell at kids from cars for doing it. Why?!
People tell me, “Times have changed, Trina.” Yes, we changed the times. Let’s change them back! I want my kids to be able to ride up and down the sidewalk and not be panicked about the cars doing 40mph in a 25mph zone, or be able to send them to an empty parking lot and not be worried a car is going to come flying through there to take a shortcut. It wouldn’t just be terrible if we all slowed down, just a little, would it?
Get out there and get your son or daughter, niece or nephew, a grandchild, your godchild or some young human being, and get them to ride at least twice a week. This is your mission for a better bike tomorrow.
By Maurice Tierney
Now in its third year, Pedalfest in Jack London Square in Oakland, Calif., offers something for everyone, not just committed cyclists, not just bike riders, but people off the street that might not otherwise get turned on to bikes in all their goodness. That’s a turn-on.
There’s music courtesy of Rock The Bike’s pedal-powered sound stage all day. Right around the corner is the New Belgium beer tent in support of the East Bay Bike Coalition. Then you’ll find the Bicycle Times/Dirt Rag tent, where we’ll be giving away some sweet goodies when you subscribe to either magazine. And that’s down the road from the Whiskeydrome, where fearless feats of derring-do take place on a 30 foot wide banked—and I mean BANKED track—which is sure to please those with an appetite for destruction.
If that doesn’t suit your fancy our friends at Brompton will be holding folding bike races, hopefully NOT on the Whiskeydrome, plus there is the kid’s bike rodeo, BMX Stunt Team performances, the display of the US Bicycling Hall of Fame, the Meet Your Maker framebuilder ride, the bicycle-trivia dunk tank, the New Belgium beer garden and if that’s not enough, Cyclecide will be there!
Join us July 20 in Jack London Square. See you there!
Whiskeydrome Stunt Action
Cycling daredevils will ride at thrilling speeds and perform exciting stunts in a 30-foot banked wooden velodrome!
BMX Stunt Team Performances
TGC Actions Sports/BMX Stunt Team with James Brom returns to Pedalfest for an action-packed day of BMX riding competition including eye-popping jumps, wheelies, bike stunts and more.
Oaklandish’s Kids Bicycle Parade
Be a part of Oaklandish’s kids bicycle parade and help kick-off 2013 Pedalfest! Children are invited to show up with already-decorated bicycles, or they can deck-out their bikes at a special Oaklandish decorating station, at 11 AM. The parade will cruise through Jack London Square at 12 PM.
Bicycle Stunt Shows
Professional stunt riders Chris Clarke and Mike Steidley will wow crowds with exciting, two-wheeled stunts showcasing bicycle balancing and agility on obstacles!
Rock the Bike’s Pedal-powered Sound Stage
Enjoy live music on Rock the Bike’s pedal-powered sound stage that produces electricity from the pedaling of stationary bicycles! Enjoy performances by the following groups:
Noon: Antioquia. Afro-Columbian Progress Rock.
1 p.m.: Cello Joe. One-Man, One Cello | Bike-touring, BeatBoxing-Cellist Genius
2. p.m.: Antioquia
3 p.m.: Conbrio. Powerful vocals and soulful grooves that blends old-school grit with new-school sophistication
4 p.m.: Will Magid Band. Deep drum groove with trumpet lead “…sweet spot between traditional vibe and global beat.”
5 p.m.: HoneySweet. R&B vocals with blues and rock influence
6 p.m.: Fossil Fool. The Bike Rapper and Rock The Bike’s founder takes the mic and sings funny, soulful hiphop with a not-so-subtle Bike Bias.
U.S. Bicycling Hall of Fame
A collection of vintage bikes.
Handmade Bicycles on Display
Dozens of top independent bicycle frame builders including Petaluma-based Soulcraft and Retrotec will showcase their handmade steel creations.
Pedal-powered Art & Food
Hop on stationary bicycles and pedal to create smoothies and enjoy other pedal-powered treats including coffee, tacos, ice cream and more! Pedalfest-goers are also invited to create pedal-powered spin art to take home and enjoy!
Brompton Folding Bike Race
To celebrate the upcoming Brompton World Championship, Pedalfest will host a Brompton Folding Bike Race throughout the day. Contestants will race against the clock and each other to see who can fold and unfold their Brompton Folding Bike in record time. Prizes will be awarded to the fastest fold!
Kids Bicycle Rodeo
A team of youth cycling instructors will lead a fun-filled bicycle rodeo for children throughout the day including a bike safety course, skills building lessons and bicycle safety instructions. Bikes and helmets will be provided to participating children, grades 3-6.
Pedal-powered Rides by Cyclecide
Little kids, big kids and kids-at-heart will enjoy whimsical fun on The Cyclofuge, a kiddie carousel, a bike corral of altered bikes and more!
Bike Stand Demo Stage
This festival stage will host contests, demos, tricks and DIY bicycle tips throughout the day!
Bike Trivia Dunk Tank
Bike geeks and cycling newbies can test their two-wheeled knowledge of bike safety trivia against Pedalfest bicycle safety instructors. For each correct answer, participants have a chance to dunk the instructor or other event VIPs in a midway style dunk tank!
Bicycles and Bike Gear
Check out the latest bicycles, gear, clothing and accessories from dozens of bicycle vendors.
New Belgium Beer Garden
New Belgium Brewing Co. will pour beer with all proceeds going to support the advocacy work of the East Bay Bicycle Coalition, a non-profit organization.
Pedalfest Pig Roast by Lungomare
Lungomare’s Chef Craig DiFonzo will slow-roast a whole pig and serve it up Italian style with a bountiful selection of side dishes for all to enjoy. Click here for all the details and a special price for those who reserve in advance.
Hope you’re not afraid of the dark. Some folks in Omaha, Nebraska, are pushing the gravel grinding scene into the night with the Greater Omaha Nighttime Gravel Ride on July 20.
It’s an entirely self-supported ride over 25 or 50 miles. The route isn’t quite finalized yet, but that’s part of the fun. Meet at the Walnut Creek Recreation Area in Papillion, Nebraska, at 7 p.m. and be ready to roll out at 8:52 p.m. (which I assume is sundown -ed.)
If you make it out, let us know how it goes!Tweet
If you’re lucky enough to live near one of the eight Amtrak routes that allow passengers to roll bikes onboard, you’ve likely noticed the trains are a lot more full these days. Seems Amtrak is seeing increased demand for the service, so much so that in California the Caltran and Amtrak trains have begun a reservation system for the service.
In most of the country, riders must box their bike in one of Amtrak’s enormous bike boxes. It isn’t difficult—just remove the pedals and turn the handlebars sideways—but it certainly isn’t convenient or quick enough for commuting. Many trains don’t have extra baggage cars, all luggage is brought on board, and thus cannot carry bikes at all.
The good news is that politicians are getting on board (that’s a train pun). According to Streesblog, several New York lawmakers are asking Amtrak to add baggage cars on the Adirondack and Ethan Allen lines, which run from Manhattan to the upstate area. They’ve recognized that cycling tourism brings business to rural areas.
Have you ever taken a bike on Amtrak or other trains? Share your experience in the comments.
Think you’ve been on some pretty long bike rides? I’m guessing they can’t compare with the 3,000-mile Race Across America, held each summer from Oceanside, Calif., to Annapolis, Md.
The first finisher of 2013 crossed the line this week with a new record time. Austrian Christoph Strasser completed the journey in just 7 days, 22 hours and 11 minutes—the first rider to ever finish RAAM in less than eight days. He averaged 15.56 miles per hour atop his Specialized time trial bike.
The 2013 race began at the Oceanside Pier and took the racers over the Coast Range into the searing desert heat. After crossing the desert they climbed into the cool Rocky Mountain air reaching 10,856 feet on Wolf Creek Pass, Colo. After descending the mountain passes racers crossed Great Plains, the Mississippi River and the relentless rolling hills of the Midwest. They then conquered the humidity and steep climbs of the Appalachian Mountains before reaching Annapolis and the cool water of the Chesapeake Bay.
Want to learn more about the Race Across America? Check out the video series, Riding the Line, about the race and the extreme athletes who compete.Tweet
By Adam Newman and Jon Pratt
We’ve written about the Great Allegheny Passage trail a number of times, after all, it’s right in our own backyard (read some here and here). This past weekend the GAP celebrated its completion, connecting downtown Pittsburgh to Cumberland, Maryland, and beyond to Washington D.C. via the C&O Canal Towpath.
The trail was, of course, once a railroad, but when it was sold by the Western Maryland Railroad in the 1970s, new ideas began to sprout. The Western Pennsylvania Conservancy purchased a 26-mile stretch of railroad between Connellsville and Confluence in 1978. The 9-mile trail from Ohiopyle to Ramcat opened in 1986. People loved it. By 2001 the corridor had an official name: The Great Allegheny Passage.
Countless individuals and several local advocacy groups and sponsors along the corridor have worked for more than three decades to make it happen, and finally on June 15, 2013, the trail reached Point State Park in downtown Pittsburgh.
To celebrate, Bicycle Times photographer Jon Pratt made the trek from Washington to Pittsburgh and documented his journey:
The Great Falls On The Potomac River, 15 Miles Outside Of Washington, D.C.
The Desert Rose Cafe in Williamsport, Maryland, is a great, bicycle-friendly place to grab a bite to eat. We were happy to get out of the rain and mud.
The Paw Paw Tunnel is one of the most famous, and darkest, spots along the C&O Canal Towpath.
In Cumberland, Maryland, the C&O Canal ends and the Great Allegheny Passage begins.
After the more than 20 mile climb out of Cumberland, you’re rewarded with spectacular views from Big Savage Mountain.
It’s nice to know it’s all downhill from here!
Crossing the Salisbury Viaduct—1,908 feet spanning the Casselman River Valley outside Meyersdale, Pa.
Naturally we stopped at the Wilderness Voyageurs’ Beer And Gear Festival In Ohiopyle, Pa.
The Roundbottom Campground has plenty of trees for hammocks, and even a few shelters to sleep in.
The final stretch that needed attention was a few hundred yards near the Sandcastle water park. Now it is paved and the point is made!Tweet
The San Francisco Bicycle Music Festival—the original and world’s largest bicycle music festival—happens Saturday June 22, 2013, from noon to 5 p.m. at Pioneer Log Cabin Meadow in Golden Gate Park.
Our LiveOnBike music bike parade will commence at 5:00pm, en-route to 22nd and Bartlett Streets where the party continues until 9pm.
The San Francisco Bicycle Music Festival is a free, all-day, all-ages, outdoor concert featuring musical acts from around the Bay Area.The Festival champions bicycle mobility, audience participation, and zero use of fossil fuels.
Although this is a completely free event, the bands are paid in part by cash donations. We suggest attendees bring cash to support the bands.
All amplification for the music is Pedal Powered, meaning that the audience generates electricity for the sound system by pedaling bicycles in equipment provided by Rock The Bike. Every material aspect of the Festival–sound equipment, instruments, gear, personnel, musicians, and fans–is transported by bicycle.
New this year:
- Night Venue in a bustling block in the Mission, the same location as the Thursday Night Farmer’s Market. (22nd & Bartlett)
- Our Biggest LiveOnBike ride ever, possibly reaching 1,000 cyclists, enjoying a mobile performance from an 8-foot wide Mobile Stage, and amplified by speakers strapped to bikes and connected wirelessly.
- True concert grade sound, including a new Line Array and a new subwoofer along with other new audio tools like better mics. It’ll be the World’s largest Human-Powered concert. History in the making!
- The biggest Pedal Power effort ever, with 25 efficient generator bikes—one 16 feet tall, some sized small enough for 7-year-olds, some ridden in by musicians performing at the festival, so the vision of true community-powered all-day music festival can be achieved.
- The first time featuring an internationally prominent environmentalist / thought leader on the mic, Bill McKibben of 350.org. With Carbon in the atmosphere passing 400 PPM, his message has never been more needed.
- Refresh with bike-blended smoothies and pedal-churned ice cream at Golden Gate Park, and at the evening venue, enjoy local, hot, delicious fare from the Mission Community Market–all while checking out some amazing local music.
- The LiveOnBike Mobile Stage allows small acts to face a rolling audience of hundreds.
Line Up: Laurie Lewis & the Right Hands, Bill McKibben of 350.org, Quinn DeVeaux & the Blue Beat Review, The Seshen, Classical Revolution, Earth Amplified, DJ Real and more. LiveOnBike performance by Jason Brock of TV’s The X-Factor.Tweet
Everyone knows Portland is one of the top biking cities in the U.S., which is why it’s the perfect place for Nutcase Helmets to call home. Now through September 8, the Portland Art Museum (PAM) is teaming up with Nutcase to open their latest exhibit, Cyclepedia.
Portlanders and museumgoers can get a preview of the special exhibition by visiting the entrance of the PAM where the 475 donated colorful and original Nutcase Helmets currently are displayed. Included are some of Nutcase’s most well-known and iconic helmets like Dazed and Amused, Daisy Stripe, Got Luck? and Glo-Brain.
The Cyclepedia exhibit features 40 bikes from the collection of world-renowned bicycle designer and aficionado, Michael Embacher. Each bike was chosen by Embacher as examples of pivotal moments in the evolution of bicycle design. The exhibition will include racing, mountain, single speed, touring, tandem, urban, folding, cargo, curiosities, and children’s bicycles.
Cyclepedia is the third entry in the Museum’s design-oriented exhibition series. Preceded by China Design Now and the Allure of the Automobile, the exhibition will be accompanied by a full-color publication described by the London Sunday Times as the most comprehensive and visually satisfying book of bicycle portraits ever published; and an iPad App, rated App of the Week in the UK iTunes store.
Related programming will include public workshops, tours and lectures showcasing Portland’s internationally recognized community of bicycle designers and builders.Tweet
By Jeremy Kershaw
The Trans Iowa is many different things. Speaking for myself, but I think many would agree, the race is a once-a-season phenomenon. It is a marker by which the rest of the year is gauged. You are either preparing for the T.I. or recovering from it… physically and emotionally. The high that I received from finishing last year endured many months afterward. This year, I will try to roll away optimistic, philosophical, but also more than a little disappointed. To me, that shows the gravity of this wild gravel race across Iowa farmland.
The wonder of the T.I. lies in the many different parts that build the whole of the event. There are the obvious: months and miles of base hopefully laid down beforehand. In the Northland, that means hours spent riding cold, wet and often snowy conditions in order to gain a little spring time endurance fitness, or worse, more-than-I-can-remember spins on the indoor trainer watching cartoons so that I could pretend I was kind of parenting and training at the same time.
Then there is the bike prep. This year, that meant endless emails to fellow singlespeed racers trying to guess as to what would be the best gear ratio for such a long race and exceptionally hilly one at that. Going singlespeed represented to me an analogy similar to mountain climbing high peaks without oxygen. Why not up it a notch, the already crazy challenge, into the just plain insane? I chose a 40×19 gear this year. It was probably as near to perfect as I could hope for.
There is the palpable sense of togetherness at the dinner the night before the race. So many genuinely good people about to share in an adventure that will test everyone of them to their limits.
Laying in the hotel bed the night before, watching the Weather Channel or The Simpsons, knowing full well that you have to be awake and ready to go by 2 a.m. That mix of fear and excitement makes for an extremely fitful few hours of rest.
Then, 90 riders, all with their white headlights and red flashing taillights on, huddle together at the start line in downtown Grinnell. Guitar Ted informs us of last minute changes. Confident handshakes and words of encouragement as brakes are tested, computers zeroed-out and tired eyes look blankly ahead into the darkness.
For about a mile, even the slowest rider can be up front, leading the pack through the first few turns out of town. You feel like a real bike racer. Hell, I can win this thing if I really had a good day!
The first crunch of limestone rock under the tires. A few unsecured water bottles already fly into the ditch. Many riders are very experienced with the jolt that riding "gravel" induces on the bike and the body. A few are already suffering the cruel facts of life on these rough farm roads. Too much air pressure in the tires equals exceptionally squirrely handling. Too little, and you risk suffering a pinch flat. Just right means a compromise between some form of air comfort and a rim dinged from tennis ball sized rock.
A quick look back and you realize that the race is on. A long string of lights rattling through the predawn darkness. In only minutes, though, I find myself in my own little pocket of speed. How is it possible that no one else is going the same pace as me? I know this will change as the day goes on. Alliances will be forged. New friendships made. But for now, quiet time, alone and many many miles to go.
Frogs. Lots and lots of frogs doing their spring chorus from the roadside ditches and marshes. If there is one thing I love about riding in the wee hours of the morning and night it is the sounds of birds and frogs. I never feel lonely when I hear them. I remember two years ago walking along a ditch of a "B" road ("unmaintained"), shoes filled with mud, grass and water, bike caked with ten pounds of Iowa’s finest black dirt, headlamps turned on trying to see through the foggy darkness of predawn. And the chorus of frogs was the only soundtrack supporting this scene of chaos. Millions of them. I wonder if anyone else noticed. How lucky we all were to be out there covered in shit, serenaded by amphibian music.
This year, we are graced by a nearly full moon preparing to set, sheets of early morning fog hanging over the low-lands, and a sun just dying to rise on a rare, clear Iowa countryside. I have my small camera along, tucked in my jersey pocket. I nearly die from the missed opportunities of images that I could have captured only if I had stopped and taken the time to shoot. It is a dream landscape. A scene where a thousand pictures could be made, ready for local bank calenders, chamber of commerce flyers, and stock photo galleries to showcase the pastoral beauty of rural Iowa. It was one of those mornings that I will remember for the rest of my life.
Huh…I’m still by myself. That’s OK. I don’t want to have to worry about going too fast right now anyway.
The first checkpoint. On these long races, you have to force yourself to ride checkpoint to checkpoint. It’s just too long otherwise. The T.I. racers are lucky to have some of the best volunteers in cycling. After my first 50 miles of alone time, it’s nice to see people again. Shed layers. Remove gravel from socks. Stretch. Swap out a fresh bag of cue cards. Clip in and go again.
Cue cards. An icon for these gravel races. Count them. Make sure they are all there. Without them, you are one turned around fool in farmland. I race to checkpoints, but I really race to the bottom of a cue card. A small victory every time you get to the last turn of the card and flip a new on top. A huge victory when you see you are on your last one.
Convenience stores. In this edition of the T.I., that meant Casey’s General Stores. Now, I love the science of sports nutrition and endurance physiology, and there have been tremendous strides taken in educating the average cyclist about what to eat and when, but I am seriously waiting for someone to write a manual on how real gravel endurance cyclists eat. It ain’t by the book.
Pizza slices? No problem. Coca Cola? Sure. Cinnamon rolls, Cheeze-it’s, Hot Tomales, chocolate milk, Peanut Nut Rolls…if you can keep it down then you win the game of ultra nutrition. A convenient store on course is like a little Christmas every 60 miles. A time to eat, socialize, stare blankly out into space while stuffing a bag of chips in your face. And lots of very friendly old farmers wondering where you are going and why you are going by gravel road instead of by Pontiac.
Back on the road, after a stop, there is a small period of re-acclimation. There is never the ability to replace what you are burning in calories. But for about 15 minutes, you have a vague feeling that you should not have eaten that last fruit pie.
Time to think. About important life decisions. Hours to re-plan your life and make mental check lists of things you are going to change when you get home. Actually, that’s kind of bullshit. Really, it’s some damn cartoon song that is stuck on repeat in your head. Dora the Explorer must DIE!
At mile 120 my butt begins to feel a bit chafed. Nothing serious. I wonder about about other rider’s butts. Does anyone really escape this thing without undercarriage damage? Does anyone really have the perfect saddle? Except for those fools riding their precious Brooks antiques. (I actually covet one and I think they may be the ONLY ones with intact butts at the end of the T.I.)
At mile 160 I feel the first and maybe the most ominous sign of bodily frailty. Rather out of nowhere, my left knee feels weak while standing on a climb. Then, a few miles down the road, both my knees feel weak while riding the flats. I think it will go away. But deep down I know this is not good—especially with no other lower gears to fall into.
Really? Still alone? I could have sworn there were other riders this year…
If I were a mathematician, I would probably win the Nobel Prize. Why? For naming the phenomenon that exists when you realize that your diminishing speed, coupled with a distance less than 10 miles, will always mean that it will take a half hour to reach the final checkpoint. I think there are probably still a few riders trapped out there in this black hole of time-space-cornfield.
The call of shame. It is both a curse and a blessing to have a Casey’s store only a couple of miles from the last checkpoint. For sure it represents an oasis in which to re-fuel and warm up. (This one looked like a cross between a bike swap and a homeless shelter. I think I watched a man fully change kits at the end of the candy aisle) It is also a spider web of defeat to those that get trapped within the sticky grasp of more pizza, bright lights and a place where your support crew might be able to find you.
I called Guitar Ted and informed him that I was done. I paced the sidewalk for a good 20 minutes before dialing the number. There followed an acute feeling of disappointment. Failure. A general sense of "what does it all mean". And a fleeting wave of relief.
This year I stopped riding at mile mark 180. I had ridden alone for nearly all of the 15 hours I was in the saddle. I chose to go singlespeed this year. The muscles surrounding both my knees, ten miles before the last checkpoint at mile 170, simply started to fatigue to the point that I couldn’t stand and pedal without a sense of impending buckling. I just couldn’t see making another 150 miles. So I called in and ended my bid for a second T.I. finish.
The importance of races of this grandeur can not be minimized. The Trans Iowa is a study in perseverance. Endurance. Cycling community. Hope. Breakdown. And a dusty stage to act out one’s own dreams of being a gravel god(ess).
Thank you, Guitar Ted, for creating and producing the Trans Iowa.Tweet
Editor’s note: This story is a cross-post from our sister magazine, Dirt Rag. This weekend riders from across the country will converge on the Flint Hills of Kansas to tackle the Dirty Kanza 200, one of the premiere events in the burgeoning gravel racing scene.
By Mike Cushionbury
Gravel road racing is filled with innovations and inventions. Bikes range from road to cyclocross to full-on Frankenbikes cobbled together from a mix of road, cross, touring and mountain bike parts. As a mountain bike racer and first-time DK200 competitor I momentarily considered setting up my 29er cross-country race bike for the task late last year but further consideration led me towards my cyclocross bike—namely a 2013 Cannondale SuperX Disc—with the goal of keeping it as simple and familiar as possible.
I knew for sure a Frankenbike was not the answer. I didn’t want to gamble with a cumbersome bike I wasn’t used to. I also wanted something I could consistently train on, making sure my position was completely dialed. In February, after ‘cross season, I set up my SuperX with the exact same measurements as my road bike, a professionally fitted position I’ve had for as long as I can remember. My saddle height, reach and stem length are all exactly the same on both bikes.
I also chose the same model Fizik Areone saddle (that’s well broken in by now) and same crank arm lengths (being a mountain biker I use long-ish 175mm on the road for consistency.) Once everything was set I put road tires on and used this rig as my road bike, compiling as many miles as I could to make sure the bike and my position was deeply burned into my muscle memory and as comfortable as possible.
The SuperX’s carbon frame is lighter than many road bike frames and with SAVE seat and chain stays it’s compliant and forgiving over rough terrain. It is truly an elite level ‘cross bike that performs like a refined road bike with snappy acceleration and geometry suited to longer road races opposed to crit-style racing—just the ticket for DK. Front and rear disc brakes insure precise stopping will never be an issue.
Nothing too radical for parts save for some drivetrain adjustments. I choose a short reach Ritchey WCS Curve carbon fiber handlebar and WCS 4-Axis stem for ultra lightweight and reliability. I also went with a bump absorbing Ritchey WCS Carbon Flexlogic Link seatpost. The post’s carbon layup provides a claimed 15-percent increase in vertical compliancy compared to standard posts without giving up any lateral or torsional stiffness. For a little extra comfort I double wrapped the top of the bars since this is where I will mostly be, not down in the drops.
Shifters and front derailleur are standard SRAM Force. For the road I used a Force rear derailleur, SRAM Red 11/26 cassette and Cannondale Si 53/39 crankset. Because 200 miles is, well, 200 miles, I wanted extra low gearing for the later hours of the race. I switched out the rear derailleur for a SRAM XX mountain unit and matched that to an XX 11/32 cassette. I also geared down the front with an FSA K-Force compact crank and 50/34-chainring combo.
This is a set-up I successfully used at last year’s Iron Cross race so I’m already comfortable with it. I’ll be using Shimano XTR Race pedals and mountain bike shoes because I believe top-level mountain bike shoes, though they do have very stiff carbon soles, vibrate less over such harsh roads. Super stiff road shoes could lead to early foot numbness and fatigue.
Wheels and tires
Wheel selection was simple; I’m using the same NoTubes Alpha 340 Team road wheelset I’ve been on all winter—simple, light and ultra reliable. Initially I was going to use a NoTubes ZTR Crest mountain bike wheelset to widen the tire’s contact patch but tire installation proved difficult due to the increased rim width (something I didn’t want to deal with in Kansas.)
My tire choice was simple as well: Challenge Almanzo’s. These super-durable, 360-gram, 700x30mm tires are specifically designed for gravel road racing. They roll very fast and utilize a special Puncture Protection System belt between the casing and belt—perfect for the spiky rocks on the roads around the Flint Hills.
Since I’m not much of a water pack wearer, I plan on going with two bottles on the bike and one in my pocket—three bottles per 50 miles to each checkpoint where I’ll have a drop bag loaded with supplies including real food like sardines, pepperoni sandwiches, black licorice and of course drink mix and bottles. If I stay on point of not using a water pack I’ll add a large seat bag with three tubes, a multi tool with a chain breaker, two quick links, a few links of chain, electrical tape and a tire boot. I also have a Lezyne mini-pump secured to the bike. As a precaution, I’ll have a full water pack in my drop bag at the midpoint checkpoint.
Veterans of the race may think I’m gambling by going minimalist but when I built up my bike for this mammoth event I went with what I know and am comfortable with. It’s a roll of the dice I’m willing to take.
Dirty Kanza is Saturday, June 1 in the Flint Hills region of east-central Kansas. Go to dirtykanza200.com for more info.
Rivendell Bicycle Works is opening a pop-up in San Francisco’s Mission District near Shotwell and just three blocks from the 24th and Mission BART Station.
There will be several Rivendell bikes to see and touch, art from the Rivendell showroom in Walnut Creek, plus bags and handlebars, some free schwag, brochures, coupons, a secret ‘have-to-be-there-to-get-it’ super deal, small items for sale, and discounted posters.
No test rides, sorry. Although the big honkin’ 71cm Homer will be there for riders in the ‘Century Club’ only (if your pubic bone height is 100cm or higher).
Word is there’s an espresso machine, and Rich Lesnik himself will be building wheels while you watch!
Opening day is noon on Saturday, June 1. At 5 p.m. Saturday there will be something special—a giveaway perhaps? Hmm….
There are parking meters along the sidewalk for blocks so there’s plenty of bike parking. FYI: the road between BART and Shotwell on 24th is under construction. Good luck parking a car!
Rivendell Bicycle Works SF
- June 1-9
- Noon-7 p.m.
- 3156 24th Street San Francisco, CA 94110
Some thoughts from Grant Petersen, Rivendell founder and owner
What prompted Rivendell to open a pop-up in the Mission District?
We now have several tattoo’d staffers, and thought ‘Hey! they’d be perfect for a pop-up.’ John found it, talked to Dave; I’m just going along.
What can people expect to experience when they, visit the 24th Street location in early June?
Bikes, bags, hatchets that you can’t try out, clothing. Posters on the walls. We may get a lug mobile together by then. Background music (Swedish jazz). I’d like to have a fashion show, but.. no access to models.
Think RBW might open something permanent in SF?
Probably not right away, but we’re looking into an Alamo store, and if that isn’t a money pit, if we can work out some bugs in it, we’d look at other locations. The tough part is staffing it. We don’t want "regular" people.Tweet