Carbon Dreams 3: the gory details

Aida's components, for bike geeks only:

• Frame & Fork: 2007 Colnago Cristallo
• Headset by Colnago.
• Stem by FSA, as well as the K-Wing carbon handlebar
  
• Gruppo: mostly Campagnolo Centaur, Record chain, Chorus Carbon crankset, compact (50-34). I matched it to 11-25 cassette. I have opted for a 11, which according to Sheldon Brown's online gear calculator http://sheldonbrown.com/gears/ is more or less equivalent to a 53x12, while the compact option shall reveal itself useful for the upcoming climbing indigestion.
• Wheels: Campagnolo Neutron. Absolutely gorgeous. Period.
• Seatpost: Campagnolo Chorus
• Seat: Selle Italia SLK. I have a saddle from Selle Italia on almost all my bikes, and so far it’s the best match I found for the most important part of my body.

Final Weight: 17.8 with everything, including the old anvil-heavy pedals, soon to be replaced with new Keo Carbon. And here are some images from the building, and the final result:

Carbon Dreams 2: sometimes dreams come true

Se quel guerrier Io fossi!
se il mio sogno S'avverasse!...
Un esercito di prodi
Da me guidato... e la vittoria...
e il plauso Di Menfi tutta!
E a te, mia dolce Aida,
Tornar di lauri cinto...
Dirti: per te ho pugnato,
per to ho vinto!

When I bought my previous road bike, a few years back, I named it Non Sequitur to make sure it would be the last one I would ever spend money on. As it often happens in my life, I can once more shout “how wrong I was!” I could even sing it, over and over, perhaps to a Verdi tune.

A couple of weeks ago, in occasion of my birthday, my wife Laura made me an offer I could not refuse: I had to stop whining about my lack of a decent bike, forever and ever. In exchange, she’d match whatever I wanted or could spend: simply shutting my big mouth would basically double my purchasing power. There was a small catch: the bike and mostly anything on it had to be Italian. My purchase power suddenly took a dive as steep as the dollar in the last months. Besides, I argued, where we would ever find somebody who actually stocks Italian bikes in beautiful but commercially impaired Santa Barbara?

Well, we couldn’t. Ironically, we had to drive just a few miles South to Carpinteria, an even smaller dot on the Southern California map. I had talked to the shop owner on the phone a few minutes before, printed out the usual Google Map, and yet we completely missed the place. I did see a shop with a funny banner sign.
Not that, I thought, looking at a wooden shack of perhaps 300 square feet, with a bunch of bicycles outside. Those are probably rentals for tourists, I concluded. Looking better, revealed a Colnago C-50 with a $10k sticker shock price. We were in the right place: Bikesmiths!

There we met owner and meccanico eccellente Jim Hopperstad. Jim helped us first by giving us a good idea of what a bike could be like, where to save money and where to splurge. We learned how much it would cost to build a reasonable dream bike, and how long it would take. Plus, he invited us to assist to the bike building work, having a chance to check it part by part, take picture, and hang out in one of the nicest and friendliest bike shops on the West Coast. At the end of the discussion we had a list of parts, and prices. This was too good to be true, I thought, and once more I was wrong. Once home, we remembered that we live in the Google era. We checked the assembly of a comparable bike on the web by some anonymous sale-by-mail shop. Jim was coming in cheaper, and this without even counting the fit, clearly something quite difficult to obtain via web.

After a few days we were back at Bikesmiths', ready for the start, and pomptly parts came out of the box and started assembling themselves like magic after dancing in the air. Ok, just kidding on that part, but barely so. On Jim’s invitation we had provided the soundtrack, 100% Giuseppe Verdi, in the hope that the music would seep through the carbon fiber and enter the very soul of the bicycle. It was a 1974 recording that did it for us, Placido Domingo and Montserrat Caballé, directed by Riccardo Muti. Hence the name of the red and black beauty that was taking shape under our very eyes: Aida.

Celeste Aida, forma divina.
Mistico serto di luce e fior,
Del mio pensiero tu sei regina,
Tu di mia vita sei lo splendor.
Il tuo bel cielo vorrei redarti,
Le dolci brezze del patrio suol;
Un regal serta sul crin posarti,
Ergerti un trono vicino al sol.
Celeste Aida, forma divina,
Mistico raggio di luce e fior

King of the Hill

Things to remember

It does not matter if I am the first one halfway through the hill. The only thing that matters is being the first one (or as close to as possible) at the top.

Corollary: slow down, save energy, don't get dropped later.

The 45 minutes midweek workout

If you are one of the few, crazy people who agree that having problems walking up the stairs to your office means that your early morning was well spent, well, I might just have the perfect workout for you.

This is an early season/beginner workout inspired by this magazine and this post. Actual times and sequence might have to change depending on the availability of appropriate terrain: I’m lucky enough to live very close to the foothills, so I have quick access to what I need to make this an approximately 45 minutes workout.

Phase 1: warm up
I warm up for about 15 minutes total, with high cadence, mostly flat road, then I climb a relatively steep hill not too fast, standing on the pedals, trying to get every muscle in my body involved and ready and my heart rate up. This first few miles also take me up to the training ground I found, in the Goleta foothills, where traffic is quite low in the morning hours. Climbing a relatively steep hill is also great to wake up and get ready for a workout: much better and faster acting even of the best Italian coffee.

Phase 2: strength training with uphill repeats For an absolute beginner (and a short workout) 3x1’ climbs up a steady 5-6% incline with 53x17. Low cadence is inevitable (if it’s not, you need a harder workout!), and I keep it up for a whole minute, with a two minutes or so recovery in-between. It’s great to do this on a quiet road, where you can just pull a u-turn when done, and cruise back downhill, spinning your legs to get rid of the bad stuff.

Chorus Carbon Compact Crankset: my next set of gears

Phase 3: cadence & speed At this point I cruise down the hill, get back on the flats, and pedal at high cadence (90-110) for 10-15 minutes on a 39-17 or equivalent. That’s more difficult than it sounds (well it is for me, at least) but it works very well as a follow up to the strength exercise, keeping the muscles warm and supple.

Phase 4: putting it all together for power
At this point I change direction and head back home, for the last 10 minutes or so. I switch back to the big ring and spin it as fast as possible, keeping a high cruising speed for the longest possible time. How fast and what gears you can use is up to you: write the numbers down and see if next week, or next month you can do better.

If you get home tired and feeling like you have accomplished something, this is already a success!

Carbon Dreams 1

Not finding or not being able to afford what I would like to ride, I find myself imagining the bike of my dreams. It’s a lucid dream, white on black as a negative image of my current rides, usually punctuated by many a kick in the ass from my current aluminum frame. My lovely bike, companion of so many miles it’s all but a lightweight. I think it could be a solid tourer, and indeed that’s probably what it was designed for. It sports a comfortable riding position, lending itself to upright sitting. It can easily fit 25mm tires and perhaps larger ones and has all the granny gears needed to go up long inclines with a moderate load.

What my bike definitely does not do is high speed. And, it’s not very maneuverable even compared with my commuter bike, a mid-nineties Giant Perigee: heavy chromoly steel, downtube shifters, but a wiser size choice than my current behemoth. I need a nimbler bike, possibly lighter and definitely more apt at soaking up the killer bumps that rock and sock me like an opening act pugilist.

After looking around and not finding anything I would really be interested in spending the little money I have in, I am quite inclined in having a bicycle built to spec. For me only, exactly the way I want it, the color I like it, with the parts I'd love to have and the custom fitting I need to be comfortable. I don’t want overly expensive or super light components, but I do want them to be of the kind I want (and need). Shallow drops that allow me to tuck down even with my limited flexibility. Light wheels to get even minimal (psychological?) help I need climbing without pushing my heart rate monitor into self-destruct mode. A compact crankset that will actually shift when I want and to the ring I want (beware of triples unless you are into touring and not really in a rush). And what a handlebar I can actually reach, resting comfortably on the brake hoods? That would be nice.

So I dream, and plan, and look around. A bike like the one below would be nice, if it did not break the bank (and I did not fear hearing the cheesy soundtrack for all my future rides).

The leader of the pack

The feeling of riding in a group is a unique experience. Dangerous sometimes, but always exhilarating. It's not just the opportunity to chat and get to meet other cyclists: it's something more purely physical, that does not have equal in most other sports. In cycling the pack is alive and dynamic. There's strategy and rivalry but also mutual help and support. Some of it is aerodynamics. But there is more.

Every ride is different, with its unique story. The race to win the sprint, the unfortunate crash. Saturday a kid on a beautiful carbon Time went down on the pavement. It looked like a hard landing, but he bounced back up easily, like I think I remember doing at his age. Nowadays they'd have to scoop me up and reassemble. We stopped, picked him up, gave directions to his parents to retrieve him.

Then the rush for the sprint. I would not get there until much later. As we descended the last hill I saw people whizzing by, going around me. I looked behind. No one was there. I was the last one. Then the gap increased beyond the magic distance that glues us together like a 30mph multi-wheeled and multi-headed monster machine. I felt a slap in my face, it was just the wind, which I was left to literally fend for myself. I saw the group getting farther and farther away, and a couple of red lights later, I was all alone.

As Chris Carmichael puts it, never sleep:

Field splits often happen because the riders in the front accelerate and someone who’s not paying attention doesn’t realize he has to speed up until it’s too late. He’s too slow to react because he was only watching the wheel ahead of him and failed to anticipate the acceleration.

I'm that guy, and that's one of my reasons to be there Saturday mornings. I don't want to be that guy in the 66 miles of rolling hills that precede the ascent to the Tourmalet. I want to be the guy that rides in the group, saving strength for what has still to come.

Miles

This past weekend's rides bring my total weekly mileage to 121.57, 865 miles so far in 2008.
I added a little km counter widget to the sidebar. Kilometers are easy (easier than miles) and using the bicycle every day for transportation helps accumulate the leg mileage. The best part of the day of course is passing the occasional cyclist while commuting.

I'm lucky enough to bike daily the beautiful Obern Trail (see map here), and I challenge anyone in the world to come up with a more stunningly beautiful and fun commute. Not many people are around in the morning, children and dogs are otherwise occupied. Thus, when I finally reach the Obern trail, I give it a little gas to know how my legs are feeling. Today my legs were feeling like jell-o, after the beating in the very short but brutal saturday sprinting.

Luckily enough, a group of lycra-clad 20 somethings boxed me in on the last two miles straightaway, right after a crossroad. They settled down around me, two in front, two behind, chatting away and disturbing the Zen-like atmosphere of well-trued wheels cutting through the morning air. I clearly could not stand for it. I signaled, got out on the passing lane, mashed the pedals with my marshmallow legs, and left them behind. Once I passed them, I could not look back or, even worse, slow down and let them pass me again. I could just keep pedaling. The funny thing is that even with a heavy messenger bag, the more I pedaled the better I felt. At least until I reached the minuscule hill that leads to my workplace. By then, however, my imaginary opponents were just a far spec of colored lycra and carbon fiber. 4 cyclists, half my age, I think that counts at least for 8 points. Onwards!

(Photos from the Santa Barbara Bike Coalition site)

Happy B-day to me!

Today I turn 42-- it's one of the main reasons why I'm doing the Tourmalet this year rather than in, say 2028 (when I predict the bicycle will actually the only way to get up there without walking). I mean, 42 is the answer to the Ultimate Question, after all. It's older than I ever thought I be (when I was in high school).

Today I even joined the Echelon Saturday Morning Ride and got dropped only once-- and I could even blame my bike for it (if indeed the escuse was remotely believable). I'll blame the weather instead, cold, windy even stormy tonight, very un-Santa Barbarish. I am working on the bicycle angle, visited a couple of bike shops this afternoon feasting my eyes on carbon dream shapes. More of that later. Now it's sushi time!

Solvang 1/2 century

It's the greenest of springs in recent memory, recent rains washed away the gold colors of later summer and winter and painted the valleys over in Swiss green. The wind is strong, as usual, a an invisible hand almost pushing me off the road. But the air is cool, refreshing, keeping the heat from the implacable sun and our over-revving engines at bay. We are surprised by how many overdressed people, especially women, we pass for the whole 50 miles. I can't imagine pedaling with long pants and rain jackets on a day like this where the only shield one needs is sunscreen.

On Santa Rosa Road the first casualty of the day goes down on the asphalt. Nothing too bad, she seems ok, no bleeding, but the impact was definitely harsh. People are taking care of her, we continue pedaling against the wind. I pass many more people than I get passed by, which is good, although the variance in cycling power and capabilities is huge on the short 50-miles course. Often people pass me pushing me at notable speeds, only to fall back and disappear when we approach a hill, having shot their wad for nothing while I was riding their wheel.

For some reason the organization thought that a panoramic tour of Lompoc was a good thing. Definitely good to convince us to never move to such a place. Leaving town we hear the second crash, another woman against the door of a minivan. The cyclist is clearly in shock, she keeps asking if the huge driver of the oversized metal contraption is ok. She looks much definitely better off than the one holding her bike with a bent fork.

Volunteers arrive, we take off once more on 246, all straight lines and long hills which we pass in relative ease. Some guy with a black pickup truck with oversize tires and dangerously raised suspensions honks furiously at us and gives us the finger, immediately imitated by the following guy on a Harley. I laugh thinking about one of my favorite movies from many years ago, Easy Rider, where the rebel bikers get shot by rednecks in a truck. How things have changed, with the ridiculously inefficient Detroit locomotives on two wheels being now the almost exclusive domain of rabid conservatives and bourgeois poseurs. Clearly the rebel two-wheelers nowadays ride much skinnier contraptions powered by pure human energy.

But I digress. In the last ten miles Gió Turbodiesel picks up speed and disappears up a hill, I won't see him until the finish line. Right there I meet my two perfect teammates, they go exactly at the speed I want, pulling up the long hills on 246 at 20mph or so. The problem, if we can call it a problem, is that one appears to be in his early, and the second in his late sixties. Nothing wrong with that, but I'm seriously thinking of tinting my hair gray and competing in the senior categories. We chat, pull hard and get to the finish line. Good average speed, for my standards, and excellent first time out for the season. Now on to the next step.

Planes, trains and bicycles

How do I get to France with a bicycle? For a while it looked simpler to just pedal there.

I started looking for a plane ticket for the event. One important factor to consider of course is how the airlines charge for bicycle-related luggage. The main choices to get to Pau from the US are Alitalia, Air France, KLM. British Airways is also a usually cheap and effective way to get to Europe (Heathrow bottleneck notwithstanding) but would force me to land in Paris and find some alternative mean of transportation (likely the TGV, the French high-speed train) to get to the the Pyrenees.

Not surprisingly, British Airways offers the best deal: they allow bicycles to fly for FREE. However, this generosity is tempered by an array of contradictory information.

British officially restricts the size I picked up the phone and navigated British Voice mail menus to reach a human. As usual service is very courteous, and after a brief manager consultation of the luggage to 62" of Height+Length+Width). Sixty-two inches are not a great amount of space when trying to fit a non-foldable bike. However he bicycle bags on the site map precisely to known models for sale in the US, and their average H+L+W size is 88", way beyond what is allowed. I was told that they will accept bikes independently of the nominal size restriction if the total luggage weight does not exceed 70lbs. That's not easy, since some of the more robust bike bags weight 40lbs by themselves. I would need to buy a superlight bike, and travel to France only with a couple of bibs and one jersey for the whole vacation, possibly not ideal. The alternative is to pay their "excessive luggage" fee: 60 British pounds online, £ 75 once at the airport. Given the current that status of the dollar had recently declined below that of sheets decent papier cul this could mean as much as 20% higher plane ticket (yes, the fee needs to be paid both ways!).

Things are not much better chez AirFrance. Although the French flagship airline is less fussy about sizes, bikes are not and cannot be part of the regular luggage allowance. This means: pay, pay, pay. Since once more the web page gives contradictory information (weight vs. number of luggage items) with a little phone time I got the straight dope: there is a one-way fee from the US to Europe and from Europe of the US of ... 150. One hundred and fifty what? Well, dollars in the US, Euros in Europe. In other words, at the current rate of exchange, taking the bike back home costs one and a half more than taking it there! This I think illustrates well the randomness of the system. Still AirFrance, at equal ticket costs, seems like the best bet as it would take me close enough to destination, hopefully with all my expensive luggage.

A very helpful link: the International Bicycle Fund Airline Baggage Regulations page.

Bicycle luggage I am considering:

• Performance has a good assortment from the tank-heavy to the flimsy
  
• The Tricosport Iron, which has a great review on Pez Cycling.
• A great (but pricey) soft bag with internal frame from Bike Pro USA
  

Recovery ride...

The plan for today was a recovery ride, easily spinning away in Heart Rate Zone 3, mostly. Of course, pedaling along my indomitable riding partner Gió "Turbodiesel" Bellesia, it's rarely an easy spin. Soon enough we were riding down the coast at a moderately strenuous pace (at least that's what my legs said). Fun nonetheless, and this brings my weekly mileage to 141.76. I'm finally starting to spin my wheels.

The organizer of the Etape, Mondovelo, suggests the following as basic preparation to be able at least to finish the feat:

• 2500 km on the bike
  
• 3 events over 150km
  
• 1 mountain event
  

I added a table on this page where I will check off each target, if and when I reach them. And now, back to the kitchen wheee I'll work to find out if Irish corned beef actually helps recovery...

Asimmetrica

Great training day today. Grey clouds hid from view a beautiful Santa Barbara Spring day. One thing we were not is warm, and descending from Casitas Pass our faces were as wet as if somebody had tossed a whole bucket of water at us. We easily reached the KOM of the recent Tour of California.

The clouds parted when we were back in the mostly appropriately named Summerland. Wonderful day of riding, and finally some more serious miles on the saddle. The profile: