Interbike 2007

I have attended bicycle trades shows since I was a wee-lad. Some families have memories of road trips to the Grand Canyon or the annual trek to visit the Smithsonians. For me, it was bicycle trade shows. Year after year, I would file up and down the aisles, trudging through the endless maze of indoor/outdoor carpets, all while breathing in the noxious fumes of the countless rubber tires. As a kid, I loathed "the show," as a teen I embraced it, and as an adult I worked them.

Five years into my hiatus from the industry, I continue to feel its pull. So, with bindles packed, the staff at BKW is taking this show on the road and heading out into the arid vastness of Nevada to take on yet another year of Interbike. September is the time of year when the North American bicycle industry squeezes itself under one roof for three days to sell, buy, catch up, and burn out. BKW has managed to bamboozle some unassuming industry folk into providing us with legitimate credentials for the three-day, bike extravaganza. We plan to go deep into the thick of it to scout out the coolest gear for the coming season; hopefully, there will be more than just carbon fiber stuff. Along the way, we'll get the chance to hang with some PROs and leading figures of the industry.

Stay tuned... 'cause "when the soup is good, all is good."

1989 World Championships

Bob Cat Crit

In January 1994, I moved to Southern California in pursuit of the endless summer. I was searching specifically for the trails and roads I had seen featured in the countless cycling magazines I read. Little did I know, I was four years and 3,000 miles off. In 1998, I moved to Boston and blindly stumbled into a cycling hotbed.

I had been working in Boston for a little over a year when on a hot and humid summer day I came face-to-face with one of the few pinnacle events of my years in the bike industry. There have been a number of experiences that stood out from crazy customers, cool products, and epic schwag to monumental rides. But today was different, it was natural, not forced, I had just met head-on my first impromptu race.

In each micro-cycling community, there are different names for similar events. In the messenger community, it is called an alley cat, in the cyclocross world, it is known as bandit cross. But all are based on the same principal: Friends and co-riders show up at a designated point, line up behind a drawn line and wait for someone to yell "Go!". The magic of this event is that there is a genuine love for the sport. There are no points awarded, no prizes, no team obligations. Just a desire to ride with your friends and kick each others' asses.

This race was called the Bob Cat Crit, (BCC) named after a local cyclist. The word went out in the afternoon on this particular Saturday, and it spread like wildfire. The BCC was on...

The Bob Cat was a mountain bike course, but people arrived on everything from road bikes to cruisers. The race has a true "Run what you brung" attitude. After all, it was as much about the social aspect and drinking beer as it was about winning. The entire concept is similar to when professional skateboarders get together to session a ramp or park. The experience is more about encouraging your mates, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, and being around a close group of fellow cyclists.

The race itself proved to be as exciting as any I have ever been to. There were battles for positions, crashes, and a podium that included the "dark horse" as well as the "sure thing". But the magic of the BCC was not the race or the winners, it was about the passion and love that everyone felt for the sport. We stood in a dusty, overgrown lot adjacent to the train tracks, sweating, swatting mosquitoes, drinking beer, and talking about all things bikes. There was a mix of women and men, road and mountain. There were no categories, no points, and no pressure. It was truly an epic experience.

From Loved to Loathed

In a June interview on NPR timed with the release of his new book “From Lance to Landis,” author David Walsh asserted that there are two kinds of cyclists with respect to doping, those that are dragged into doping and those that drag. It’s not a remarkable assessment. To allege coercion into a forbidden practice could hardly raise eyebrows.
However, Walsh pointed to Lance Armstrong as an example of a dragger. Walsh would have us believe that the reputation of the sport of cycling has been damaged by the draggers of the world, as exemplified by Mr. Armstrong.

In his book, Walsh does what he can to convince the reader that his motivations are honest, that all he wants is to clean up the sport and restore cycling’s tarnished reputation. There’s a problem with his mission, though. In “From Lance to Landis” (FLL) he takes square aim at Armstrong; without him, there really would have been no motivation to write. It is true he catches other cyclists (most notably Floyd Landis and Tyler Hamilton) in his crosshairs, but they are more collateral damage, corollaries to his argument. Curious that he should reserve his effort for American riders.

Investigative journalism got its start in America and the American consciousness is perhaps better prepared to read first-time allegations in a newspaper than citizens of some other countries. However, real investigative journalism demands more of its practitioners than simply exposing one man’s secrets. Large segments of interviews are condensed in FLL into single paragraphs sporting a single quote at the end, which is to say that at times, the book is short on substance. More direct quotes would have served both author and audience.

Were the book to be compared to other works of investigative journalism, such as what happened at Enron as exemplified by “The Smartest Guys in the Room,” Walsh, in effect, devoted little time to Ken Lay while putting all his resources into chasing Jeff Skilling, even though any complete account should focus on Enron as a whole. Ultimately, Walsh’s pursuit of Armstrong begins to seem personal, and the investigation lacks the fair-handed detachment of the best investigative journalism.

Armstrong has been quoted saying “extraordinary allegations require extraordinary proof.” Fair enough. Because there is no smoking gun, readers will see what they wish to see. Those who want to believe Armstrong is innocent of doping will see mountains of slanderous but circumstantial allegations. Those who think he should be burned at the stake for alleged doping will see what they think is more than enough.

Walsh makes much of the 1994 Fleche-Wallonne where three members of the Gewiss team rode away from the field, leaving every other team to chase. He attempts to use this as a window into Armstrong’s soul, a reason to explain his anger, his motivation to begin using EPO. He even tries to play the compassion card pointing out how understandable it would have been for a rider to wish to be competing on a level playing field. If Armstrong did, in fact, take EPO and if he decided to do so in the wake of the trouncing he got at the ’94 Fleche-Wallonne, then he was no less coerced, no less dragged, than any other cyclist.

Walsh gets a fundamental assumption wrong. His belief that there are draggers and dragged is misguided. He believes that the draggers—those cyclists who go into doping with their eyes wide open and embracing all the doctor has to offer—are the sport’s great scourge and the source of our incredulity and disappointment. There is a division in cycling between cyclists, but the difference lies between those we aren’t surprised to hear doped and those who we are utterly shocked to learn doped.

The surprise we experienced when Bjarne Riis admitted he took EPO was not that Mr. Sixty had doped—there were plenty of rumors—no, our surprise was that he broke the Omerta and came clean. The shock we feel when a rider we believed or at least hoped was clean (say, Iban Mayo) is the real shock. That’s the tarnish on the sport. Most of us can accept that some athletes will try to cheat, but what sours so many on cycling is the revelation that doping became standard practice, ubiquitous, a fog crawling over the whole landscape of cycling itself. The whiteout makes many dizzy, unable to tell up from down, day from night, and for some, right from wrong.

This entry was written out of love and a desire to see some clean, healthy competition in the PRO peloton. A big thank you to Padraig for his great contribution.

Photo Courtesy: USA Today

2004 Olympic Road Race

PRO is PROGRAM GO!

The cycling cap is a staple in a PRO cyclist's wardrobe; fashion and function go hand-in-hand when discussing its merits. Like the sun, the position of the cap differs throughout the season, sitting high in peak summer and low in the spring. The cap is so versitile that it can provide shade from the sun and rain, catch sweat on hot days, and provide a thin layer for the top of your head when the Mutt is just too hot.

Back in the day there was a local rider named Phil who sat on the bike like a PRO, wore his glasses like a PRO, and could even sport the cap like the utter PROfessional. Phil could wear the cap with the best of them. But not everyone can pull it off. This simple accessory can very easily separate riders into the PRO or NO catagory. For example, Matt White: PRO category. Although often overlooked by the photogs, Matt has come to epitomize the spring cap style. Matt is ever-present in the Classics and quietly does his job, working his ass off for bigger name riders. Matt goes for the low, over-the-ears style to help keep his ears warm.

Mavic Cosmic Carbone Ultimate

Local sources have come through again, the Mavic Cosmic Carbone Ultimates have arrived and are primed for the Mid-Week Classic. Stay tuned for a complete post.

Muse

With the close of summer rapidly approaching, the BKW staff packed up and headed out for some much needed R&R and top secret "mid-pack results" training. With the running shoes packed and the Polar 720i set to record only HR data, I readied myself for vacation to begin. The plan was to travel lightly, bringing only the running shoes in an effort to keep the "stuff" to a minimum and get the legs in shape for cross season. I awoke early on the morning of our departure in a fog of apprehension and reconsideration as I began to second guess the running idea. As a cyclist (not a triathlete), running for me is reserved for only the coldest months.

With just a handful of hours before take-off and a pot of excellent coffee nearing completion, I pulled my S&S frame from its peg and in a frenzied, coffee-induced state I began to build it using all the road components from my go-to road bike. The S&S machine spends much of its time built as a cyclocross single speed and I had roughly an hour to transform this bike from a one-speed wonder to an assembled, 20-speed, hill worthy, meet up with some peeps, road machine. Once built, I needed to get it disassembled and into its travel case.

Back in 2000, I set out to build a bike that would go anywhere and do anything. It would be a bike that would travel easily and be capable of tackling any riding conditions that may await on the other side of an airport terminal. When I began the Muse project, I was not a regular traveler. I was an employee in the bike world and vacations were rare, except in the dead of winter. But I knew that if I built a durable and practical machine, it would be with me for a long time. In the meantime, it would be the perfect commuter, fixed gear, cross bike, and winter training machine. For these tasks, a 700c wheel and cantilevers would give me the greatest ability to adapt and allow for the widest range of tires from 23-38c, catering to pavement or trail riding with ample clearance for fenders. From this initial concept, my Seven Muse was born.

Ease of Travel
Ease of travel is not limited to a durable finish. Although, having a robust finish is key, the bike needs to travel by land, sea or air with ease, preferably without additional charges. A standard bike, no matter how small the frame size will not fit on an aircraft without a fee; the bike needs to fold or come apart. Back in 2000, the only options for this were folding options such as a Bike Friday or something built or retro-fitted to include the S&S Couplers. S&S Bicycle Torque Couplers or BTCs allow the frame to be disassembled literally in half and giving the bike a footprint small enough to fit inside a suitcase which by airline standards (62" total inches or less) is considered standard luggage.

The S&S couplers strike fear in some cyclist's hearts, the fact that a tube can be joined with essentially a stainless, coaxial cable-like connection would certainly insure that it was not strong enough to function like a standard frame tube and could even be a potential failure point. I spent a lot of time reading about the BTCs, how they work, are they strong, tough, light, heavy, flexible, stiff? Let me say this, BTCs are the greatest thing since embrocations. If you travel and like to ride your own bike when you travel, the BTC is the beacon in the darkness of bicycle rentals and well-intended, friends whose back up bikes are simply not your own. The BTCs work flawlessly, they look clean when built into a frame and reduce your bike to a manageable travel size, small enough to make your running shoes shiver at the thought.

The Perfect Material
With the decision to build a travel bike made, titanium seemed like the best choice for all around durability, comfort and light weight. Of all the choices out there, Seven Cycles appealed to me most. Seven has a strong reputation in the world of custom and the founders were all instrumental in the Merlin's formative years. Once the decision to go ti was made, the only remaining hurdle was butted or straight gauge ti. Straight gauge titanium seemed the best choice, it was durable, the surface was all but impervious to scratches and wear and the frame's overall cost would be less since I had bypassed the more expensive option of butted tubing. Titanium has a great ride, it is highly resilient to neglect and seemed like the perfect material for the continuous packing and unpacking of the bike.

Dressed for Success
When I began to consider the riding I would do when on vacation, I envisioned myself meeting with friends for a road ride, or hitting some trails with some single track but I also pictured myself with a lock in hand pedaling around a seaside town or through the quiet rolling hills of a Midwestern farm town. I pictured the bike with drop bars, flat bars or a pair of Albatross bars from Rivendell. With the cantilever brakes, the cables could easily be swapped by releasing the straddle cable from the main brake cable thus allowing a simple and speedy swap of the handle bars. All of these riding scenarios could be accomplished with a single gear and a single gear would ease the packing of the bike by eliminating the derailleurs and additional cables. However, if this bike were to remain eternally useful, I needed to have the option to add gears. This meant a derailleur hanger and a way to connect the cable guides on the down tube. The derailleur hanger was simple, I requested this direct from Seven, but the cable guide was another matter and required the work of my dear friend and master welder to solve. A simple and removable band with two cable shift bosses welded to it did the trick and helps to keep the down tube clean when running just one gear. Although I rarely use the gear option, for this trip it was a must, the weather is warm and I was hoping to catch up with some old friends for some fast group rides.

Having the ability to add derailleurs was more a protective measure. I have only exercised this option a handful of times; it counters my desire to have the simplest, easiest to pack machine; however, this trip proves that the option to add gears really makes this machine a do anything, go anywhere bike.


The Ride
To riders who have never seen an S&S coupler, the first question is "how does it ride?" the answer is "wonderfully". If you were to build two bikes side by side, one with couplers and one without, I feel you would have a difficult time distinguishing the difference between the two. I have ridden steep climbs and descended with complete confidence, not even a hint of undue flex or instability. The couplers, like all great products, disappear until they are needed.

I am a fan of the travel bike and I feel that for those who travel frequently, it is a must have. If I had only one bike, and it could be anything, I would opt for a ti road bike with the couplers. Because there is really nothing like riding your own bike in new and far-away places.

Discovery Channel PRO Team

FYI: The mute may be in order.

MP3 is Dyn-o-mite

Q: What's better than a tough, "ride everyday" wheel? A: A tough, "ride everyday" wheel with a no-questions-asked replacement policy. That's what. Last year, I bought a set of Cosmic Carbone PROs from my local bike shop. Per their advice, I spent the additional dough for the Mavic Protection Program (MP3). Essentially, the MP3 offers you a complete replacement of your wheelset regardless of cause or fault (even if the damage occurred during racing!) Last year, the Cosmic Carbones were touted as their deep section, tubular-only carbon wheelset designed to be so durable they are ideal as everyday wheels.

With the tires glued and pumped I am out the door for my 40-minute cruise to the start of the weekend ride. As I wind up the wheels for some warm-up efforts, the wheels feel fast, light, and fairly stiff...certainly as stiff as the Reynolds Stratus DVs from last season and noticeably stiffer than the Zipp 303s from the season before. The ride comes together with no less than 60 riders on this warm, dry July day. As we roll out of town and through the neighborhoods where the pavement is notoriously rough, I slide in mid-pack in front of the owner of the shop where I purchased my Carbones the day before. As he asks for my initial thoughts on the wheels, I slam a pot hole with the rear wheel and the loud cracking sound I heard was enough to make my wallet shiver. I applied my rear brake lightly to gauge the extent of the damage and there is a noticeable ticking of the brakes on the newly-formed deformation of the braking surface. I had just broken my new wheels before I had even taken my first sip from my water bottle. The ding was noticeable but minor enough to continue with the ride. By the end of the day's ride, the wheels seemed to have repaired themselves, losing the intitial damage from the pot hole. Now, when I applied the brakes, the ticking that was evident two water bottles ago is absent.

When I got home, I was able to get my first glance at the rim and, after a fair amount of looking, I located the spot on the rim and the ding. The pothole had deformed the braking surface on both sides of the rim and created a bubble of displaced carbon fiber. I applied pressure to the deformed section of the rim with my thumbs and with a light crackling sound the rim flattened out. I took the wheel back to the shop where the mechanic and I voted to continue riding the wheels with the intention of sending them back to Mavic at the end of the season. For the remainder of the season, I rode the Carbone PROs without incident, quickly falling in love with the wheel's speed, stiffness, and appearance. In September, I pulled the Vittoria CXs off and glued on some cross tires for the Jonathon Page look during the cross season. Even the rigors of a cross season were no match for the Carbone PROs and, again, they proved their suitability as a daily wheel.

In January, I prepared to return the wheels to Mavic and noticed that, in addition to the original crack in the rear wheel, I had a small hole in the carbon fairing of the front wheel, caused by an errant scrap of metal on a group ride back in August. I remember the ride and the impact, but had no idea that the metal had actually punctured the carbon. The hole never creaked or made itself known.

I pulled off my cross tires, removed the QR skewers and cassette and dropped the wheels off at my local shop. One week later, I received a brand new set of Cosmic Carbone PROs for the low, low price of $30 to cover shipping to and from Mavic. Now that's insane! What other company in the bike industry allows you to beat the crap out of your equipment and then replace it for no charge?

In April, I glued a new set of Vittoria CXs to my new Cosmic Carbones and began the second and final season of my MP3 program. Just like Year 1, I started the season with an abrupt pothole encounter, creating yet another crack on the braking surface. This time, however, I nailed both the front and rear wheels. When the season comes to a close, I will send my Carbones back to Mavic for replacement and I plan to sell the replacements to help fund the purchase of some Carbone Ultimates and, of course, the MP3 program.

For the last eleven years, I have been dreaming about a set of Lightweights, ever since I first saw Riis cheating his way to a Tour win in '96. But how can I risk the $3,500 for a pair of Lightweights when I am sure to experience the same damage I saw with my Carbones? The risk is simply too great and I could not afford to repair the LWs if anything goes wrong, let alone buy a front or rear because I had smacked another pothole. The MP3 program is the perfect safety net if you are thinking about buying an expensive set of wheels.

The purchase price of the MP3 program is well worth the insurance and Mavic's response time and attitude toward the MP3 program is just as advertised. Well done Mavic.

1988 Paris Roubaix

Campionato Italiano di ciclismo vinto da Gianni Bugno

Influences in Style

Each PRO has a style that is unique unto himself: Bartoli's careless drape of his hands on the tops, Der Jan's preference for the 53x12 on any course, Johnny Tomaction's fluidity, and LA's cadence when in the mountains. When I am out on my machine, whether my mountain or cross bike, in my mind's eye I envision these PROs and I can not help but be influenced by their style. Back in the 80s when skateboarding was experiencing its second big boom, Natas Kaupas came on the scene and brought with him the future of the skate industry and a style that was distinctly his own. Back then, I was an impressionable young lad and someone like Natas provided a style that I admired and could mimic. When I stumbled into road cycling, there were PROs whose style both as fashionistas and as cyclists I really admired (Merckx, of course, and De Vlaeminck, Vanderaerden, and Lemond were a few). I rode as much as I could and, in addition to trying to go fast, I tried to do it with style. I tried to do it like the PROs. I rode slowly by storefronts to size up my position, my style, the flatness of my back and height of my saddle.

Over the past 20 years, the style I tried to emulate helped me to form my own, and it came not from practice, but from discipline and mileage. High-mileage single-handedly has the greatest effect on a cyclist's style and, as we have seen from many old PROs, once you achieve it the form never goes away. It is as much earned as is the ability to ride a two-wheeler and once you master it, it's yours forever. I have seen plenty of OGs show up to a group ride and through experience, brains, and the pride that they use to propel them, hang in and not get dropped (despite being 25 pounds over weight and having only hundreds of miles in their legs).

I still watch the PROs in awe, the new guys and the old. The fluidity of their style that's almost effortless is intoxicating, and it is always a pleasure to watch those who are truly exceptional.

High Mileage = High Stylage

Paolo Bettini

Duncan

The bike shop has aways represented a club house of sorts. A refuge for those whose souls are fired by the bicycle. The view of the bicycle shop from an employee standpoint represents a hard life, one where the hours are long, and the dollars short, but one where the personal rewards are endless. I remember an employee from the 80s-90s named Duncan. Duncan was the perfect example of the bike shop employee and loved the bicycle for its simplicity and humility. The bicycle was a machine free of complexity and bureaucracy. A machine which operated on pennies a day and paid physical dividends to its rider. Duncan always wore jeans and they were stained with grease and dirt from years of commuting and service. Duncan was a photographer whose favorite subject was the bicycle. Not races, not PROs, just the bike and its mechanical workings. Duncan sported a thinker's mustache, not a creepy porn star stache, but an honest thinking man's stache. Something he could go to when in deep thought. Duncan's style was as functional and modest as he was, right down to wearing his belt buckle on the side of his hip as opposed to dead center. The idea was to keep the large brass buckle from digging into his abdomen while in a seated riding position. Duncan's simplicity was echoed in his dedication to the generator light, long past its useful home in the commuter's tool box.

Duncan was a whole wheat bread kind of guy long before whole wheat came into vogue. Simple, hardworking, creative, and passionate about the bicycle. Duncan represented the cyclist of the 80s. Whether you were were shopping for a new bike, dropping off a repair or trying to source obscure French replacement parts, you were lucky to stumble into Duncan.

Mavic R-SYS Wheelset

Over the past few months Mavic has quietly introduced their newest wheel technology to the cycling world. Among the latest and greatest from the French company comes the R-SYS wheel set. A carbon/al-u-min-e-um dream team intended to relieve the aging Ksyrium from its duties atop the pre-built, hub/rim kingdom. Le Tour provided the most prominent display of the R-SYS wheels carrying Soler to a win in Stage 9. Soler opted for a Cosmic Carbone Ultimate on the rear and the R-SYS on the front. The R-SYS wheels have received rave reviews from PROs and journalists alike: accolades for their stiffness, comfort, and claimed 1355 gram weight. But is this wheel set the next generation wheel? Is this wheel technology vastly improved and in a world of desirable cycling goodies are they worthy of the top spot?

I have ridden every generation of the Ksyrium wheels, ranging from the all-black, first generation wheels in 2000 to the most recent, ode to the Helium, ES model. The Ksyrium is a staple in the pre-built wheel market and performs flawlessly for roadies and cross racers alike. The Ksyrium was the first wheel tough enough to provide large riders with a light, fast, durable wheel option. Mavic claims the Ksyrium range will shuffle in 2008, losing the top spot to the R-SYS. In 2000, when the Ksyrium was introduced, it was immediately evident that the wheel market as we knew it was about to change.

I thought it would be interesting to compare the R-SYS wheels to the Ksyrium SLs based on my ride experience alone. No weight comparisons, no technological marketing mumbo-jumbo, just wheel against wheel. After 200 miles on each, here are my thoughts:

The first thing I noticed about the R-SYS wheels were the aesthetics. I hated the look. Art commented that the R-SYS wheels look like wagon wheels and, honestly, I think that is the best description I’ve heard. The hubs are chiseled down to the absolute minimum (they barely cover the bearings and axle) and the hubs define the look of "2008," the “chiseled” look that both Mavic and Shimano have embraced. In 2005-06, this minima style was reserved for less expensive products from Mavic and I can’t help but initially view the hubs on the R-SYS as something reserved for the entry-level components. In time, I am sure that I’ll adjust to the new style and my aesthetic tastes will be re-programmed. But hey, I had a difficult time when the Oakley Factory Pilots disappeared. With the tiny hubs, the spokes look very long and their round profile is reminiscent of Udon noodles.

The nipples are similar to those used in the Ksyriums, although they are now in a lime (citron) color. The graphics are tough to read. After a long hard look, I was able to spot the R-SYS logos, which are created from a series of lines that look more like a DNA sequence than a rim graphic. (Honestly, if I stared at them for much longer, I was certain I would have seen a schooner.) The rim profile is low, like the newer style ES wheels, which I personally feel make the ESs slightly more compliant than the SLs. I am sure some testing equipment in France would say I am wrong, but my reviews are based on my perception in the real world and not statistical data or static load tests.

The rear wheel has a similarly minimal appearance and the rim profile matches the front. However, the non-drive side spokes are Zircal (aluminum) like the previous generation Ksyriums. The aluminum spokes allow for greater clearance on the drive side allowing the dish of the wheel to favor a stiffer build. The spokes are all black and this makes it hard to detect the difference in materials and spoke thickness.

As I installed the wheels into my bike, the initial ugliness dissolved and what revealed itself was a new and unique appearance to my bike. My standard SL3s are all silver and I preferred them when they were all black. Somehow the mix of black spokes with the silver rim added a dimension that all black simply can’t. When on the bike, the wheels look awesome!

So, how did they ride? Well, first let me say that I rode them back-to-back on the same bike with the same tubes/tires as my SL3s to try to minimize the differences between wheels sets. I tried to be as scientific as possible in a completely unscientific study. Here’s the scoop. They were marginally better than my SL3s. I was simply not floored by these wheels in the same way I was when I first switched from the Heliums to the Kysriums or from the SLs to the ESs. The R-SYSs feel laterally stiffer than the SLs and where I felt I could detect a discernable difference was in the lack of rear wheel wind-up that is so common in other wheels during a hard acceleration (a downside to the previous generation Ksyriums). When I threw the R-SYSs hard into a corner, the wheels tracked nicely, providing a stable feeling while cutting in at the last moment. Then again, I never felt the SL3s were short in this category. Additionally, I can't say the comfort was any less or more than with the SL3s. The Colnago is a great bike and comfort is one of its strong suits. I have yet to ride a wheel that the Colnago couldn't tame. In a group setting, where acceleration is key to closing gaps, both the SLs and the R-SYSs feel great and the difference is hardly detectable. In fact, it’s tough to justify the difference in price between these two wheel sets.

So, what would prompt me to buy the R-SYS wheels?

1. If weight were a major concern to me, they would be a great place to start. 1300 grams and change is light, especially for a wheel that rides like a wheel that is 200 grams heavier. The dollar to gram ratio favors the upgrade in wheels as opposed to spending it on boutique German components.

2. If I were searching for a light, tight set of clinchers to pimp, this would be it. They look cool and I am severely loyal to Mavic.

In my opinion, the R-SYS wheels are a tiny bit stiffer than previous Ksyriums. I think this wheel set differs most from the Ksyriums in appearance and less in ride characteristics. If you have a set of Ksyriums and you are thinking of upgrading, I would recommend investing in a bike fitting or a top level tune-up, one that replaces all your cables and housing and installs some PRO white tape. These areas will increase your speed, make your bike fun to ride, and pay dividends in other areas. If you are searching for some lightweight, bad-ass wheels the R-SYS and Ksyriums will both do the job very well.


Plus, you get one of the cleanest magnet arrangements out there.

PRO is PROGRAM GO!

Sleight of Hand

Things are pretty bad in the cycling world right now. Or are they? I am still not sure. What I am sure about is that all of my favorite riders from the 90s have either been implicated, convicted, or have confessed to using performance enhancing drugs. Should any of this come as a suprise? Not really. Cycling is either facing its inevitable demise or its finest hour.

The idea that a PRO can subject themselves to a three-week Grand Tour and expect to finish let alone win with only mineral water and a fig bar is the kind of story you tell your kids at bed time. The physical punishment these warriors endure is incomprehensible and there is no way a natural body can recover following the day-after-day abuse of a Grand Tour. Despite the overwhelming evidence of rampant drug abuse, I don't want to view cycling through a tainted lens of doping. That is to say, I know there is drug (ab)use and I've known there was ever since my interest in cycling began. I simply want to say, "not my kid". I guess I am in denial and this is the first step in recovery.

I stood in front of my cycling magazine collection today and 90% of the PRO cover faces are gone from the PRO world. BUSTED. See you in two years fellas - if at all.

In many ways, the PRO world is a suspension of disbelief. When I hear about the wattage a PRO produces or see them grit their teeth in the mountains, I wonder: how much of this performance is natural talent and how much of it is the 50,000 training KMs. And of course, how much of it is chemically-enhanced? The suspension of disbelief is much like a magic show.

Do I want to know how they saw the woman in half or how a magician can pour a pitcher of water into her hand and it disappears? No, I don't. And I don't think I would enjoy the magic act (or cycling for that matter) if they were simply doing things that I am perfectly capable of. Watch how Houdini packs his suitcase while blindfolded, see how I magically dip my frites in this mayo. That doesn't sound very entertaining. Baseball enjoyed a good run in early 2k when homeruns were commonplace at every game. Was that a result of steroid use? I must admit, it was cool to see highlights where balls rarely landed in the infield. Is the sport of cycling capable of retaining an audience and big dollar sponsors without the punishment of the grand tours and subsequent drug use?

What makes cycling so enthralling? The venues, the superhuman performances, or the suffering the riders endure? I see very little TV time dedicated to a Belgian Kermesse. Without a superhuman difference between athlete and spectator the allure begins to fade. And since the dawn of cycling, a superhuman difference required some type of enhancement.

So, what is to come? Where are we going and how much damage has cycling sustained? Is it repairable? And before we ask if it is repairable, maybe we should ask "can the sport return as its former self without performance enhancing drugs?"

And Stuff

Compliments of our pal ZD.

PRO is PROGRAM GO!

Now this is PRO.

PRO Defined

What's up with the word PRO? A noun, an adjective? Well, both actually. PRO is used to describe equipment, an attitude, a practice. It is a word that has many meanings and can be used interchangably. When I write the word, I use all caps to make it more pronounced, to give it more punch. But, in many ways, the use of caps helps to convey my love for things PRO and the use of caps gives the word some heart and soul. When I'm watching cycling, cruising a bike site, or reading a magazine and I come across something that is indicative of PRO racing, or the PRO culture, I say "that's so PRO. Or when it's really insanely PRO, I may say something like that's so f#@*ing PRO.

Well, I came across a site the other day that contained some images from Paris Roubaix that were simply too much, even for a seasoned PRO like myself. Paris Roubaix is always a great place to spy equipment and practices that are head and shoulders above the more routine races on the season's calendar. I think CSC is a team that's not afraid to bump it up a notch, evidenced by some of these shots. Check out how insane the 303s look when shod in the black and green Pave EVO CG tubular tires. I mean, come on that is about as PRO as it gets. And when you have a team car rooftop filled with these machines, my little brain begins to swirl and smoke under the stress of computing the total PRO-ness.


Check out this action, too: 180mm cranks? When I labored in the trenches and some 5'4" goof ball on a $300 road bike would drop in asking for a 58t chainring and 180mm cranks in order to tackle the local highway overpass we would laugh him outta the shop. But when I see a 180mm crank in the PRO ranks... well then, that my friend, is PRO, F'ing PRO to be exact.


PRO can be an attitude. Like when Jens Voight grits his teeth while pulling the entire break away or choosing to train in 38 degree rain. Racing anything for 24 hours is PRO, skipping desert for 6 months is PRO and so is a massage after a wicked hard weekend of racing. Drinking black coffee as opposed to a carmel, mocha, equalized, double tall frappa-whippeo is also PRO. So use the term freely as you will; make it your own, take PRO to the races, the group rides and airwaves.

Ronde Van Vlaanderen

Pocket Change

In the opening sequence of The Bones Brigade Video Show, Lance Mountain, rolls out of his house in the AM then rolls back home just before midnight; spending the entire day skating and relying only on his skateboard for transportation.

My buddy Matt and I always talk about how simple things used to be and how our bikes and riding were all that mattered. Despite growing up worlds apart, we have the same childhood memories. Our daily summer schedule was the same - wake up, eat breakfast, ride bike, eat lunch, ride bike more, then head home for dinner. All of this was always possible with mere pocket change. We both remember our bikes took us to places near and far. In those days, it was a BMX bike and there were no gears, rarely a flat tire, and the biggest mechanical problem was a loose headset that was easily repaired with the human vise grip, namely, your hand.

Over the years, although my bikes became more and more sophisticated (and expensive), I make it a point to return to the simple days. Now I do it on a 1968 Schwinn complete with fenders and steel rims. I run my errands on it, ride it in sandals and shorts (often no-handed), and I rarely lock it up. The freedom of this simple machine can be intoxicating, I even find myself blowing off my errands just to keep riding.

Hurray for the simple machine and the pleasure it brings!
Hurray for the car-free, hassle-free leisure of a bicycle!
Now, if I could just get by on my pocket change.

Wild Card

You've got to hand it to a team that arrives at Le Tour on a wild card entry and then goes on to put the smack down. Here's to the little team that could.

Photo Courtesy: Barloworld

Jitensha Studio

I have visited hundreds of bike shops around the country. No matter where my travels take me, the smells and sounds inherent to bike shops bring me a sense of home and comfort. I aim to visit shops that are doing something unique, something different than the others. Often, these shops are focused on an aspect of the cycling world that is dear to them, something driven by their passion. One such shop is Jitensha Studio, located in Berkeley, California. (Jitensha is bicycle in Japanese.) This past May, I made a point to visit this gem of a shop.

Jitensha is centered around the mantra that the bicycle and the products that surround it need be merely simple and functional. Jitensha offers custom steel, lugged frames designed specifically for a rider's needs, and have purposeful names such as the All Around and the All Purpose Bike. Owner Hiroshi Iimura designs each bike for a specific function or rider and relies on a highly selective list of frame builders to produce his frames.

Hiroshi has been designing bicycle frames for over thirty years and his style is one of simplicity and beauty. His designs are displayed throughout the shop and they invariably capture the essence of the bicycle, that is, each machine has clean lines, beautifully sculpted lugs, and is painted in crisp colors. The finished product is a purification─a reduction of the superfluous─and leaves only that which is neccessary for the task at hand. Hiroshi feels the lugs reflect the artistic nature of a bicycle frame and shuns the mass produciton of tig-welded frames.

My emotions are always stirred by this approach to the bicycle. In a world of over-engineered, over-hyped crap, Hiroshi's approach is warm and welcoming, a reminder of why the bicycle crosses cultures and needs no explanation or translation. I realize Hiroshi's creations are a world away from the high-tech machines ridden in the PRO Tour. however, I don't see these as two ends of the continuum, rather I look to both "worlds" often to find balance. Jitensha's approach is similar to that of Grant Peterson and rightfully so, Jitensha was Grant's local shop before and during the days of Bridgestone. Thus, it seems natural and safe to assume that Hiroshi's influence made its way to the bikes produced by Bridgestone.


In addition to offering frames and complete bikes, Jitensha also provides hand-selected components, such as Honjo-hammered fenders and a beautiful selection of Nitto products. Probably the most exciting element found in Jitensha is the departure from the standard bike shop. Hiroshi knows his products, understands his place in the bike world, and does it better than anyone else.

JITENSHA STUDIO
2250 Bancroft Way
Berkeley, CA 94704
510•540•6240
Winter Hours:
Tues - Sat: 11:00 - 5:00
www.jitensha.com

Jitensha was originally posted on 12-21-06.

SRM Telemetry

Real time data from SRM's wired riders.

1987 Tour de France - La Plagne

A Sunday in Hell

Pre-Race Medical Check

Excitement fills the air in late June as the "Tour Day France" rapidly approaches. The discussions begin to circle about each rider's fitness: who will be strong enough over the first three weeks in July to take the coveted crown? I especially enjoy the discussions about who can excel in the mountains and against a clock. (As if the fomula is that simple.) With the exception of some PROs, most arrive at the Tour in peak condition. My buddy ZD and I always get a kick out of the pre-tour medical checks. Each PRO is carefully examined to insure proper health and and the "fitness" to tackle the weeks ahead. This pre-tour ritual is akin to a boxer's weigh-in before a bout. Publicly, the rider is evaluated under the media's watchful eye. I have to wonder how this plays to a rider's advantage. In year's past, this was really the first opportunity to see if Jan has been able to arrive at the Tour ready for three weeks of battle or if it will take Weeks 1 and 2 to get into form.

The best part about this pre-Tour ritual is the form these athletes show. As they lie on the doctor's table with their heart rates in the 30s, they look part Frankenstein, part Ivan Draggo, and part machine. I am almost waiting for someone in a lab coat to proclaim "It is alive!"

PRO cyclists have such an odd build: concave chests, chicken arms, and enormous legs. Covering these features is a thin layer of skin and almost zero fat. Then there's the tan lines that are literally branded on their skin. PROs are an interesting breed, in any other capacity, these individuals look sick and emaciated. Just think back to Rasmussen in the 2005 Tour.

The Pre-Race Medical Check was originally posted on February 13, 2007

Photo courtesy cyclingnews.com

Discovery Goes Green

PRO is PROGRAM GO!

Podium wear

1989 Paris Roubaix

The Lance Feeling

Among the annals of cycling, few cyclists have talked about the experience of being a professional cyclist with the level of detail and intimacy of experience as expressed by Lance Armstrong. For a guy so known for his taciturn intense nature, he seems an unlikely source for insight into what it means to devote your life to bicycle racing. His press conferences are famously brief. His interviews were timed even before he won his first Tour.

And yet, there among the pages of It’s Not About the Bike, and Every Second Counts are details fine as grains of sand. The miracle is his unembellished objectivity. Losing weight means suffering. For all the world, losing weight is this great mystery, a riddle even the Sphinx cannot answer. In the media Jane Q. Smith tells the reporter how she tried every diet, every new system, every drug and all to no effect. What you never hear the unsuccessful admit was that hunger gnaws at you like a guilty conscience.

Lance was one of us. Post-cancer, he was a bit of slacker. Beer and golf aren’t really the training regimen of a PRO cyclist. He made the choices that any of us might make on a Saturday afternoon. But then he got serious.

There is no way to sugarcoat what he did year after year. He lost weight because he ate fewer calories than he burned. He operated like our government—at a deficit. He’d come back from a training ride and skip lunch. As he said, “I was hungry all the time.”

At first, that sensation is disconcerting. Your body says, “Something’s wrong. We need calories.” You have difficulty concentrating. But after a few days, there is a familiarity; the diet is just part of the routine. And then the scale starts to drift.

Lance embraced that feeling and made it just another form of suffering no different from lactic acid. He spoke of a “sweet pain” that comes with fitness. Weight loss was just a mundane task to be ticked off like taking out the trash. Just one more “to-do” before winning the world’s greatest bike race.

It’s that time. For all those with mid-summer ambitions, this is the time for the sacrifice: small meals, no snacks, skipped desserts, refused beers. Less you is PRO. We know the secret; it’s as simple as suffering. This is the time for the feeling.

Padraig is feeling the pain as he walks the razor in preparation for some huge mid-season events. Padraig found the strength between hunger pangs to share his thoughts and compile this report.

The Ego

In the mid 90s, while working in a bike shop in Southern California, I had one of the funniest bike shop moments of my 20+ years in the industry.

It was a Monday and things were quiet. The staff is down to three: myself, a sales guy, and a mechanic. A customer came in whom I recognized from the past weekend. He had been in on Saturday and talked at length with one of the sales guys about a sweet Trek 5200. Today, he was prepared to test ride the bike he was after. After some small talk and and a change of clothes he realized he had forgotten his license. Test ride policy clearly stated that a license was a must and there was no way around this. Well, the sales guy working that day was also a roadie and a bit of a hammer so he thought it would be fun to tag along with the customer to talk with him about the bike, answer questions, and, ultimately, sneak in a ride on the clock.

In a short time, both riders were suited up and ready to go...it was time for a test ride. It was just before 11:00 AM when they rolled out of the shop. At 1:30 PM, our ego-maniac, hammer, sales guy came riding back into the shop, alone and looking troubled. The test rider and the new Trek 5200 were gone.

Dejected, sweaty, and embarrassed, our sales guy went on to tell us the story: They had ridden into some of the smaller hills just outside of town. There, the customer was doing some hill repeats to get an idea of how the bike would climb. First in the saddle, then out. Now our sales guy was quite the racer, fast and aggressive when on the bike, and fiercely competitive and after a few climbs, got in on the action, first keeping pace with the customer, then pushing it a bit, and eventually trying to out sprint the customer. Somewhere between the bottom and the top of the climb and probably just below our sales guy's lactic threshold the customer (and the 5200) had simply hung a left and disappeared. Our sales guy had spent the remaining time speeding around the area, up hills and down hills. Everywhere. There was no sign of the 5200 (or the customer). Evidently, Mr. Sales' ego had taken over, taking with it an expensive machine.

Who knew if the customer had originally set out to steal the bike or if the opportunity was simply to great to pass up. Either way, to me, it was so damn funny. Even though his ego got the best of him in this situation, he certainly wasn't an accomplice to the theft, and he was really sorry, and really embarrassed. The shop felt the cost of the bike was certainly worth the rights to tell the story repeatedly, and to never let him live this one down.

Live like a PRO

Remember when the French press began their whole "anti-Armstrong" campaign, insinuating that LA cheated in order to win the Tour? Lance and company fired back at critics with this simple and effective piece emphasizing Lance's dedication to training and preparation.

The message extends beyond Lance to other cyclists who take their sport seriously. I am too old to dream of turning PRO, however, I continue to take my riding seriously. I am careful of the types and quantities of foods I eat, I monitor how much sleep I get, I listen to my body, and I focus on my machine and the equipment I choose. I make sacrifices in life to get the most out of my body. I enjoy reading about the lives of the PROs and I look to them for training methods and practices that I believe make me a better cyclist. This is why I am drawn to insight about teams and their preparation and the reason I seek out information written by the mechanics, DS, coaches, and the doctors who care for the riders. The PRO cycling world is out on the front lines testing and refining methods. Teams are broadcasting much of this information for us to receive, analyze, and implement.

Cycling is one of the few sports where, as a fan, you can be as close to the PROs as possible. A cyclist can watch a race and relate to the pain felt and understand the effort put in during training and the sacrifices made during the season. I have no idea what it's like to get hit by a 181 kg linebacker or to travel at 560 kph in a drag car, but I do know what it feels like to run empty during a long ride, or to suffer during a 40-minute climb. I have seen 205 flash on my heart rate monitor while bridging a gap or while trying to hang on the wheel of the local TT king. So, whether you are screaming in a PRO's face on Alpe D'Huez or riding the exact same bike as your favorite rider, cycling is a sport that allows the fan an up-close and hands-on experience.

The parallels between the average (serious) cyclists and the PROs allow us to have an understanding of what is required to compete at a high level and gives us the ability to truly be in awe of these great athletes.

Live like a PRO was originally posted on 12-30-06

1996 La Flèche Wallonne

The Frame Pump

The frame pump is a thing of the past. Like a pay phone, the frame pump has been replaced by a smaller, lighter, and more convenient technology. Over the past 10 years, mobile phones have become the standard and so have the lovely, petite, CO2 cartridges. CO2s make the art of a flat change a more rapid and efficient process, getting a ride back on the road in seconds, and without the elbow and shoulder stiffness of yesterday. The frame pump was genius. It passed through many iterations: from a device capable of only low pressures and one's defense against the occasional country dog to a high-tech device that is smaller, lighter and capable of pressures above 120 psi. But like the pay phone, today the frame pump is only great in a pinch. This weekend, perfect in its execution, the frame pump was my savior. I own a black Silca frame pump with a Campy head. This trusty frame pump has aided me in several jams. At the time of its retirement I had perfected the art of the quick flat change complete with 110 psi. I had even requested a pump peg on my then new, custom steel frame to accommodate my trusty mate.

Traditionally, the frame was the mounting location for the "frame" pump. Seat tube, top tube and even tucked in behind the seat stay. I thought I had seen them all. In 1999, one hot summer morning, a long-time friend rolled up on the ride start presenting a very curious mounting location for his frame pump. In all the years of cyclists coming and going, dropping off their bikes for service, me selling pumps and even riding with frame pumps, I had never seen this frame pump trick. In my mind, I could not define what I was seeing. What is that?

Then, before he could respond, I realized I was seeing something completely new:


I was in awe. The frame pump had been a staple of the cycling world for so long that it seemed a stretch that I would see it carried in a new manner. After I took in the peculiar placement of the pump, I took to figuring out how this placement would not cause any functional issues, first confirming that turning the bars would not interfere with the pump or cables.



This weekend on my ride, I placed the frame pump in the QR/bar position. Oddly, it seems that my streak of flats ended this weekend with the implementation of my trusty frame pump. Is there a rule that when the monetary value of a flat drops so does their frequency? With the frame pump I eliminate the cost of a CO2. Later this week, I plan to replace my wasted CO2s and eventually go back to using them as my primary source for on-the-road flat repairs. But for now, I am enjoying carrying my frame pump and sporting in it as an ode to my old friend who taught me this unique style.

PRO is PROGRAM GO!

Summer


Winter

Colnago Production

Tubular Tires

The tubular tire is a thing of absolute beauty. It's as traditional and steeped in lore as the drop handlebar itself. It was the tubular tire that carried many of the sport's greatest PROs of yesterday to victory and it continues to be the choice of PROs today.

The PROs continue to use tubulars for both the ride and the security they offer. A puncture at speed becomes less of a hazard since the tire is glued to the rim. For those of us who are not part of the PRO Tour, tubulars work well as a race tire and are a special treat for all those hours of training. The feel and speed of a tubular becomes a boost on race day, providing a welcomed alternative to your training wheels.

The clincher tire has been revolutionized in the last 10 years and it rides wonderfully. But there's something magical about a tubular. I rock the tubulars in the warmer months; after the roads have been washed clean by the spring rains and most of winter's damage has been repaired. I have ridden tubs from the beginning of my love affair with the road and, over the years, I've developed a few tubular guidelines.

Never ride tubulars immediately following a rain - Following even a light rain, the small and sharp debris will be washed from their hiding places in the crags of the road and deposit themselves (usually sharp side up) on its surface. Riding tubulars immediately after a rain all but guarantees a flat. After a rain, opt for the clinchers and do your wallet a favor.

PRO shops will stretch their inventory - The pre-stretch helps with installation and the aging will give the tires a more supple ride. When in doubt, smell the tire. If the rubber remains pungent, wait to use. Do it right, do it like Julian. If your local shop does not partake in the stretch, purchase your tubulars in bulk (four at a time) in the off season and pre-stretch the tires on some old tubular rims away from direct sun and in the cool damp confines of your basement. (Store them right next to your finest wines and your award-winning truffles.) There is some debate over the aging of the tubulars: Julian favors the aging of the tire while Jobst Brandt says this is hogwash. I learned that the ride of the tire is more supple as it ages; however, there's a limit. Age the tire too much and you'll end up with a brittle hoop of garden hose.

Glue them properly - This is always a tough subject and there are many ways to stick a tire on a rim, like glue tape, 3M™ Fast Tack, and trim adhesive. I've always been of the mind to use genuine tubular glue and follow the gluing techniques I learned a long time ago. If you have any doubt in your ability or your knowledge, seek professional help. Screaming into turn four of your local crit is the wrong time to learn that your glue job was sub par. Take it to the local PRO shop and let them work their magic. The confidence you gain will be worth the $30-$45 bucks they charge you to glue some tires. And you won't have to worry about gluing yourself to your couch, your truing stand, or your rear wheel.

Securing the valve - If you are riding a deep section wheel, make sure to test your valve extentions prior to gluing your tire. Discovering a leak at the valve after gluing will be a messy, time-consuming error, and one that can be easily avoided.

Carry a spare - Naturally, you're going to be one of a few cyclists, if not the only one, on a ride with a tubular so it's your responsibility to bring a spare. Again, if you're riding deep section wheels, attach a valve extender to your spare and roll up the spare tightly so that it doesn't monopolize the storage space in your jersey. Another option is the under seat tubular bag. "They're boxy, but they're good."

Brush and glue - Glass and debris on the road are your biggest hazards. Given that a flat with tubs is a high stakes repair, watch for glass and brush your tires after riding through broken glass because this will help remove the sharp pieces before they have a chance to burrow into the latex tube. Check your tires for cuts and holes and apply a touch of super glue to any breaks in the rubber. This will help keep debris from making its way into the tube via the existing holes.

Experiment with pressure - The tubular tire delivers the smoothest, dream-like ride, capable of riding at a lower pressure without risk of a pinch flat and they're comfy, even with 140 psi. However, the extent of a tubular's benefits are not properly realized without the correct pressure. Use a good pump with a good gauge and experiment with the pressure that gives you the best combination of comfort and performance.

Tubulars remain on the fringe of cycling, reserved for those who prefer the ride and performance, appreciate the history, or are willing endure the additional labor of love. Flatting a tubular is a pain in the ass for everyone involved, but with the tips above I've been able to manage the task. Thus far, this season, I've done my best to ride my Carbones as often as possible. I've flatted three times this season and the cost for replacing a tire is damn expensive, but the ride is amazing and there is no sound like that of a hard, out-of-the-saddle acceleration while riding atop a tubular tire.

Sportsbalm #3 Warm-Up, Cajaputi Oil

The summer temperatures are in full swing and with them come white handle bar tape, white socks and, of course, a lighter, gentler embrocation. My first choice for the summer months comes from Sportsbalm: #3 Cajeputi Oil, a product that Sportsbalm claims is ideal for temps in the 23ºC - 30ºC range.

Sportsbalm has been a fixture in the PRO peloton for many seasons and was the embrocation of choice by Lance and the U.S. Postal team. If it's good enough for the boys in blue, then it's certainly good enough for me. SportsbalmUSA.com provides an excellent product breakdown, and outlines the benefits of each one. The Web site claims Cajeputi Oil is preparation oil, perfectly suited for application prior to race time. The #3 is formulated using two ingredients: vegetable oil and Cajeputi Oil. Both reduce the risk of cramping and keep the muscles supple and well fed.

Today's conditions: Sunny, mild at sign-in, 20ºC, no wind, expected high of 26ºC

So, how does the Cajeputi Oil perform? This stuff is the shiniest embrocation I have ever used. And let's face it, the shine is PRO. The Cajeputi Oil begs to be applied heavily because the oil is so thin it literally leaps out of the container (and with the squeeze bottle there's no way it's going back in once it is out). The vegetable oil base means that applying too much #3 will give your legs the flypaper effect. (Who knew there was so much debris at shin level?) The smell is light and a touch on the medicinal side, but it's a subtle effervescence and you need to be up-close to really smell it. As a side note, if you're looking for the warmth so common in embrocations, then I would suggest bumping up to Sportbalm's Start Oil.

In sum, if you like to sport the embrocation on every ride, then the Sportsbalm #3 Cajeputi Oil is the perfect choice for the warmer months when a standard embrocation is simply too hot.

Overall Heat Rating - Low to non-existent
Euro-Style Rating - Insanely high, mirror-quality sheen
Smell - Light and sweet, PRO
Durability - Extremely high (despite its thin base, this stuff goes on and stays on through sweat, rain, and extremely humid conditions. If you are not careful you will be rocking the flypaper style.)

Now...I saved the best for last. As a cyclist, I am a huge fan of equipment and equipment to help care for my equipment. I love Giro's helmet pod and a great gear bag that separates my dirty gear from clean, and I am a total sucker for a bag designed to carry my embrocations. Does it get any better? Make certain that when you buy the works from Sportsbalm, you order yourself one of the Sportsbalm logo bags so you, too, can rock the PRO Soigneur style.

PRO is PROGRAM GO!

The Cupertino bus is a fixture in the Northern California cycling scene. So much in fact that it appears on Google Earth when you type in Cupertino's address.

Cupertino Bike Shop

Lance Armstrong Alpe D'Huez 2001