For the love of wide tires

There seems to be something fundamentally pleasing about knowing the simple fact that you can, and indeed may jump at the opportunity of taking your two wheeled adventure off the course of trajectory at any moment, for any given reason.  It isn't that you always end up doing so, but the sheer fact that you can jump around in various ways gives rise to a satisfaction that leaves one feeling as if options a far less restricted. Though a bike with wider tires is very much a compromise in weight and sometimes speed, the compromise is more times than not entirely justifiable and healthy when the variables are weighed out.  For most of us who don't race bikes and never will, the pro/con ratio seems to greatly gravitate toward the previous.  Though the latter is very much a reality to varying degrees, it is often times more negligible than initially realized; at least this was the case for me.

Sifting through the rough

For the majority of the last century general consensus regarding tire width and overall speed has supported an inversely proportional correlation.  The wider the tire, the slower the ride; simple.  These ideas and claims have been generally accepted by the masses and spearheaded by big-box bike manufacturers to sell more (you guessed it) bicycles. Slightly lower coefficients of friction and aerodynamic drag (i.e. faster) will sell supposedly quicker bicycles as the winners of out favorite races solidify the notion that skinny tires will be faster and reign supreme.  A massively fundamental problem here is that the big governing bodies of aforementioned races such as the one day classics and the grand tour stages races force contestants to operate with insanely tight parameters of what it is they constitute a road bike to be.  With geometry being limited to particular wheelbase dimensions, tube angles and frame clearances, it is no wonder that we never see these racers doing what they do on tires with greater width. 

Cyclocross racing is a very good example of this.  Bikes that are very similar in geometry and build to road bikes are used with slightly larger tires (33mm being the width restriction) with knobs for extra traction in muddy, sandy, loose and wet conditions for the majority of all events.  The bottom line here is that there is very little speculation left as to whether or not a wider tire (up to a certain width) will handle, grip and suspend better than it's narrow counterparts. 

Tire width to volume ratios listed in ascending order from left to right

Conversely, from about 2013-2015 we saw serious marketing hype that gravitated toward the opposite extreme end of the spectrum with tire widths (i.e. fat bikes).  The claim with oversized fat tires is that one can "float" over just about anything in sight; there is indeed truth here but it comes at a huge cost.  With extreme tire widths around the 4-5" mark, your tire can conform to just about any surface in sight.  Extremely loose surfaces like sand and powdered snow are rendered negotiable with the footprint a fat bike creates.  The problem with tire widths such as these is that the moment one enters road again (tarmac, gravel or even semi rough trail) the heavy weight, drag, and aerodynamic effect of such tires greatly outweighs the temporary benefit depending on the duration of the ride.  Gauging your riding style is the key to honing in the middle ground that grants you the best of both narrow and wide tire options.

Finding diamonds

 If riding clean road is your primary day-in day-out occurrence, it makes much more sense to use tires that teeter toward the narrower end of the spectrum.  Depending on the load you haul, a 28-32c tire is a sensible option for most road bikes as both vintage and somewhat modern steel bikes will clear a tire around that size.   For reasons mentioned above, most modern road bike tire clearances dictate a narrow width of 25mm.  Unfortunately anything beyond these widths in such cases is simply a non-option.

 By running the widest tires possible in your road bike you will gain a greater contact area for better handling, more air volume for greater pneumatic suspension and a wider footprint for conformity to road irregularities.  For what you pay in the marginal weight gain (around 100 grams or so between tube and tire difference for a 23c vs 32c width) and the extremely marginal aerodynamic drag that incurs (think less than 1% here) you will gain a more comfortable and stable ride.

the differences between narrow and wide tire contact patches

  If you are working with something like an older touring or mountain bike frame, even wider tires are highly encouraged depending again on load and terrain.  Supported findings have shown that dabbling beyond the 32c mark also shows marginal penalty for the added benefit.  Something around the 42mm (1.75") is a very healthy, happy medium for riding that entails some gravel, crush refine, hard pack dirt or heavily inconsistent pavement.

Catering to your needs

At the end of the day what it all really boils down to is you paying attention to the kind of riding you are doing (or want to do for that matter) and setting up your rig accordingly.  If you constantly find yourself riding on immaculately groomed pavement, width and tread is less of a concern as opposed to the varying terrain that composes much of suburbia and outer city fringes.  Having experimented with most tire sizes commonly available, from the extra thin to extra thick, i have found that the additional bit of width has enabled me to comfortably ride in a longer, more comfortable and versatile fashion with less hesitation and concern.  Ultra fat tires and super skinny tires both have their place, but the real question is figuring out what that means for you and your particular needs.

Second hand bikes: Contemplating the merits of restoring and repurposing.

In an world of seemingly perpetual waste and planned obsolescence, a bicycle platform that endures the test of time and serves numerous years of use has become rendered a thing of yesteryear.  Today's industry standards last long enough to blink the eye a few times only to reopen with the view of a new "it" size, material, design and designated use.  Innumerable bikes with innumerable niches fill the market in such a dense fashion that it is no wonder how and why the Craig's List bicycle pages fill anew after only a few hours having lapsed.  Yesterdays mountain bike is today's obsolete "donor" bike that at best tends to serve as a component platform to build up yet another new bike with supposedly better aforementioned attributes.  The preexisting frame set usually ends up being stored in a garage for years, sold away as scrap or if lucky, pawned off for a few extra dollars to facilitate that new build.  Seldom it is these days that bearings, shocks, brake parts and drivetrains are cross compatible enough to mix and match one derailleur with another, one rear shock for the next.  Sometimes you get lucky with a bicycle that manages to swallow up most of the parts in that box that was created when the last project was stripped down,  but the real question that looms here is whether or not we need anywhere near as many bikes as most of us self proclaimed "bike nerds" own, or if the cyclical tide of seemingly  endless upgrades is indeed necessary, resourceful or cost effective altogether.  To explore the question is to simultaneously explore inherently foundational facets that compose the bicycle industry as we know it today.  What is found can be seen as something that stimulates a massive portion of the economy which in principle, generates equal business in virtually every other niche in the world of retail.

Having formerly frequented the scrap yards for
 years, I have seen images that directly parallel this.

 

Used is Bad

Over the last decade or so I have slowly discovered a painfully evident correlation that exists between manufacturer, consumer and the environment within which all parties operate:  what is good for people, products and our ever important planet is typically bad for the economy.  When a product is strong, highly serviceable and capable of enduring repetition, fill-in-the-blank manufacturer/designer/facilitator/ becomes incapable of doing the one thing that constitutes their sustenance: growing quickly.  Old bikes out on the road don't sell anything.  Old bikes receiving service oriented labor sells very little in the way of new componentry and lifestyle accessories.  Repair labor is and never will be a lucrative tangible in the eyes of the biggest companies that require no naming.  Without a constant flow of new product to hit the shelves, such companies will never fulfil the exponential growth models that compose the business plans of nearly every company that strives to be on top and branch into multinational status.  Paradoxical though it may seem, according to this worldview things must fail to work.  In order for things to fail, we need to either be sold just that, or conversely be sold the idea at the very least. If we constantly believe that what we have has become of little value in capacity, so long as we are feeble minded enough we will constantly consume, upgrade and entertain the notion that it may just be time again to jump on-board with the latest buzz idea of the year.  This simple yet dangerous notion epitomizes the very essence of what it means to be a consumer in modernity.

An image depicting the myriad breed of thin tired "road" bikes.

Used is good

When we are critical of our belongings and relationships, consumption habits and environmental pattern, it doesn't take much for one to see that in order to maintain the good, one must gravitate toward things that are conducive to longevity, growth and ultimately happiness.  When it comes to the simple device that is the bicycle, and the little-big world that we cycle around, the circumstances are no different.  As cyclists we hold an invisible torch of responsibility to contemplate our consumption habits just as in any other context.  We can either jump on the bandwagon of the "Newer is better" mentality that seems to permeate the airwaves, data streams and magazine pages, or put the foot down and say in one way or another that this ideal of overnight obsolescence is a thing of our past.  Almost more than any other does the bicycle industry as a whole exhibit double standards that render our "green" activities a farce.  What is so eco-friendly about deliberately disposing of a tool that was designed, manufactured and reallocated to end up in your possession?  What is it that makes a colossal stable of seldom ridden, semi to massively redundant bicycles a thing of our sustainable future when many of the worlds inhabitants will never see the luxury of two wheels between their legs.  Upon investigation and inevitably contrary to popular belief, this reemerging age of the bicycle is not as clean as we would like it to be.

Someone, somewhere, making good use
 of an early 90's French" mountain" bike.

Turning the pedals forward 

Never has there been a more important time for us all to consider the implications of our actions in a world of ever elusive resources, economic degradation and moral strife.  Bicycles are and will always be a simple object, suggestive of a classically simple activity.  Whether its daily commuting or innocent play, the bicycle ride is something that no one needs a small fortune to afford and enjoy.  To see your dollar, actions, and environment go as far as they can, it depends entirely on you and the next person to exhibit maturity and restraint in an age of excess and disposal.  To put thought, love and maintenance into the products we purchase and markets we support with our dollar can we make a difference today as we simultaneously set an positive example for those around us.  Maybe the next time we stop by the local bike shop for whatever may be on the list we can we consider the options for a brighter, more logical and sustainable future.

The roads speak to me

Here I am now, mounted to my steel steed of transport and play.  As I spin circles I feel as though I am gliding over the surfaces of the earth while maintaining a direct connection with what rests beneath.  Looking down reveals a vignette of things both long past and soon to come: Road.

Reading the road is like understanding an intimate language that transcends verbal communications of any sort.  To both feel and see while simultaneously adapting to the contours of the landscape strikes me as the equivalent of a sailor navigating the unknown vastness and uncertainty that is the sea.  You can only know it truly by approaching it and embracing it for what it is.  With unexpected ramps, winding switchbacks, varying terrain and seemingly endless flats with rolling hills, the land tells its story through innumerable subtle nuance.

 Great roads tell tales of conforming to the curvature of the plains, mountains, valleys and straits.  A path chronicles history over the decades past and suggests things such as an appreciation for nature (and often time a lack thereof), overzealous ambition, and both patience as well as hastiness. The plowing of bulldozers and digging of excavators inevitably differentiates the natural flow of continents from expedient routes of transport.  In turn the road reveals itself as unit of measure that is directly proportional to our willingness as humans to traverse the planet as it is.  Such aforementioned roads are the ultimate conveyors of our planet's current state.  They speak a language that has either a highly industrialized and mechanized dialect, or a gentle, admiration induced compassion for nature.

Although a blasted sliver of highway dissecting a colossal mountain pass may indeed facilitate quick movement, the greatest roads are indeed those of least resistance.  Simple in nature though they may be, the best paths speak volumes as they allow us to follow in the footsteps of those who paved the way with grace.  With respect and admiration, I now continue onward, feeling the textures translate through my bicycle and into my muscles, nerves and bones.  A direct translation is understood as I continue forward with receptivity being my key to movement, thus allowing me to bend and stiffen with the ebb and flow of the ride.  The road will only continue to afford me a wonderful journey so long as I am capable of speaking its language.  

Continue on road, and I will be here to listen.

The Pro cycling/Formula 1 parallel

It doesn't take much investigation to stumble upon the realization that in the bicycle world, what wins sells.  The direct correlation between UCI, ASO, RCS Sport and USA Cycling overall/stage race wins and revenue generated is empirically observable.  The amount of R&D that goes into sending racers out into the Peleton with the most advanced metallurgic, electronic, aerodynamic and lightweight machines is second to none.  Technological, nutritional and bio mechanical  analysis is studied, contemplated, reworked and deliberately implemented into something that from an outside perspective seems more like a meticulously orchestrated DARPA project than an act of people simply chasing one another around on bicycles.  Paradoxical though it may seem, both the previous and the latter could not be closer to the truth.  The bottom line here is that modern bicycle racing is a cohesively strategized science project that is equally dependent on the psychological and physiological performance of 8-9 racers working in tandem (team mates) as it is on the utilization of the highest technological development.  So you might be asking yourself what the hell any of this has to do with Formula 1 auto racing.  The answer in a word: everything.

Some of you might remember this marketing scheme courtesy of Specialized
sometime in 2014 that circulated magazines and blogs the world round.
It wasn't their gimmicky attempt at likening a bicycle to a Formula 1 car that
got my attention as much as it was the evocation of underlying parallels
that exist logistically between the FIA's F1 auto racing division and the
world of pro level cycling.

Aerodynamic drag, fatigue life, ultimate tensile strength, moment of inertia, gyroscopic effect, suspension loss and friction induced drag are just a few of the key variables that either facilitate or hinder the overall performance of both Formula 1 cars and professional racing bicycles.  Equally scrutinized though these aspects may be, its the laser like precision with which the teams operate with that seems to be the most paralleled here.  With auto races being one by fractions of a second over the duration of an hour and 21 day bicycle stage races being decided sometimes by less than a minute, marginal gains become paramount in importance.  From constant, real time radio communication, to the heads up style display of critical aspects of the automobile and cyclist alike, both the Formula 1 and cycling team move in a different, yet similar fashion.  Weather patters, racers behavioral habits, physiological data and external wild card variables compose an ear full for a racer who is simultaneously attempting to focus on not only his own riding/driving, but that of his rivals as well.  With multi million dollar sponsorship deals on the line, every second of podium time, tv coverage, positive pr and name dropping comes at a serious price.  This is the life of a pro level cyclist, mechanic, seigneur, chef, director sportif and team car driver.  To eat, breathe sleep and spell anything otherwise is synonymous with failure.

Here we have former Tour De France winner "Sir" Bradly Wiggins
getting super-aero on his new age cycling rocket ship.
An equal amount of r&d went into developing the aluminium
and carbon fiber that rests between his legs as did the most modern
iteration of a Formula 1 racing machine. Skin suits,
disc wheels and aero helmets.. Pushing the aerodynamic envelope F1 style.

Confessions of a blue collar commuter - Part 2

Observation #4:  It's going to be commuted on, not raced

 

Its important to remember that we are trying to find a good tool that will primarily be used for "getting around".  Now whatever that may mean to you, I think its fair to say that most of us enjoy a spirited ride from time to time regardless of how city oriented our bike might be.  I find myself getting my legs warm and really picking up pace on my commuter bikes and like to build them accordingly.  Being that most of my riding actually takes place during commutes means that I want to get the most out of such rides.  Balancing utility with sport for me is important being that I don't want to gravitate one way much more than the other.  Though I might want a semi-aggressive geometry out of a bike, or maybe a more overall light weight package, I try my best to make these things possible without unnecessary sacrifices.  You wont see me commuting on aluminum frames for example, or low spoke count wheels for that matter.  Bridging the gap between utility and performance is always a delicate balancing act and depends entirely on the type of riding you will find yourself doing. 

 

 For me 95% of my in city commutes are done on good to decent condition pavement with the occasional hard pack dirt or gravel trail thrown in.  Conditions such as this have me coming back to a middle ground that is somewhere between the ultra light single speed and fixed gear bikes I once rode, and the heavy, often overbuilt fully rigid "mountain" bikes that I spent the last four years almost exclusively using.  I now enjoy more than ever a well balanced, steel road bike frame with tubing of average thickness: not so much that the ride feels dead yet not so little that everything I lean the bike on translates into a dented tube.   I use tires that are considered "thick" by traditional road bike standards (28-30mm) that offer me the traction and comfort I seek. 

 

My Univega frame and fork was found in excellent condition.  This bike was built up mostly with
 parts that I had from other bike projects. Though moderately priced, like the Fuji bike the quality components
are easy to find, replace and swap if and or when the time comes.

 

Observation #5:  Commutes change, and so should our bikes

 

Since heavily commuting via bike over the last six years, I have had a handful of jobs all over the city of Albuquerque.  From the north east heights and Rio Rancho, to the International district, North valley and Corralles.  The length of the rides, roads commuted, loads carried and weather conditions encountered have all contributed to changes in what I have found as optimal (and fun here lets not forget).  Being that I keep encountering many of the same variables, I have managed to settle on the two main commuter bikes to get around.  They both exhibit very similar handling characteristics, have nearly identical ergonomics and all in all feel like closely related relatives.  One bike (the red Fuji) is set up with a slightly larger frame, longer wheelbase, and thicker tubing for front and rear racks with quad panniers to carry light to mid weight loads.  I utilize taller gears in the cassette to compensate for the extra load. This will be the bike I hop on whenever I need to get around with more than just the essentials.  From laundry and groceries to anything in between for the long days out and about, this bike will get it done.

 

For equally long but less load bearing rides, I have built up a second bike (the blue Univega).  This bike is slightly more compact and aggressive than the Fuji, giving it an overall quicker and snappier feel.  The tubing is slightly thinner and the wheel base shorter.  The gearing is not as big as the Fuji's being that only a saddle and handlebar bag will be outfitted to the bike (tools and snacks in the front with phone, wallet and keys in the rear).  Similar brakes, shifters and derailleurs are utilized on both bikes to give a very seamless transition between the use of both bikes.  I wanted the two of them to feel as close as possible to one another within reason, while maintaining their own individual personality (color schemes, accents and such).  Having two commuter bikes seems essential being that no time lag is necessary if something catastrophic occurs with one of the bikes.  If it comes to it I can even outfit the Univega with racks to compensate if something happens to the gear hauling Fuji.  The parts are 100% cross compatible, from the seat post size and crankset bcd (bolt circle diameter) to the headset size and bottom bracket width.  A back up or replacement part for one bike is a mirror for the other. 

Observation #6:  No work, no pay, no play

 

For me, getting stuck out there with no option is a non-option.  I need to be able to figure out a quick solution in order to make it to work in one piece.  Be it back up city bus schedules memorized or a secondary bicycle which I can transition to, any fail safe is better than none at all.  If I can secure myself any extra preventive measure I certainly will.

Though I have had, and continue to enjoy so much fun commuting all over the city year round, I do very much understand that it is a privilege more than anything to be able to do so.  To have a job to commute to and from is the reason for the commutes in the first place, and by keeping the wheels spinning, both literally and figuratively, I can further solidify more joy filled riding down the road for myself.

Confessions of a blue collar commuter - Part 1

I often get asked what type of bikes I ride and why it is that I choose to ride them.  Though the initial answer is usually short, it is often followed with a lengthy elaboration as to how it is that I came to such conclusions.  After having answered these sort of questions as many times as I have, I though it would make perfect blog post material, particularly regarding my "commuter" bikes.  A lot of my thoughts regarding bicycles have changed over the years and have usually done so in direct proportion to my enhanced knowledge via trial and error, studies produced by others and my intended application of riding styles changing.  Though the same can be said for the commuter bike, a new set of criterion arises to meet the demands and rigor of city cycling life.

 

The city is a place where just about anything can happen at any time.  If you commute frequently or just ride occasionally within the confines of any major city you must be prepared for the seemingly innumerable implications of metro life.  Thievery, careless cyclists locking and unlocking bikes, bad roads, bad weather and bad drivers to name just a few of the unaccountable variables.  You can prepare your bike every morning to near perfection and still have to submit to the way of the world.  Having been a bicycle commuter now for my sixth year without a vehicle, I have seen just about everything under the sun when it comes to cycling related mishaps.  Being that I want to see my dollar go as far as possible, I build and plan around the idea that I could have any of my lovely bicycles taken from me at any time for nearly any reason.
 

Observation #1:  Don't ride it if you can't replace it

 

Though I have never personally been on the receiving end of a stolen bike (although I recently had a trunk bag full of tools and kit stolen directly off the rack) I have watched three of my very close friends have bicycle that we built to their liking, from the frame up, stolen and never seen again.  The big take away here is that it takes a hell of a lot longer to replicate a very specific custom bike build than it does to wave goodbye to it in the wake of thievery.  Its simply too time and cost prohibitive to replace high end bicycles that are used as frequent city bikes.  This might ring particularly true if you are a daily commuter who depends day in, day out on your bicycle to get you around.  With that having been said, it only seems logical to make efforts to outfit yourself with a bicycle that not only does what you want and need it to do, but that can achieve such goals for a reasonable price that wont render the bike irreplaceable (at least in the monetary sense as opposed to the sentimental).

 

I work extremely hard for the money that I earn and find tremendous folly in commuting on a super expensive, super high end machine that on a regular basis will be subjected to high risk exposure all over the city.  I have to come to terms with the fact that I could just as easily be the next to have a bicycle stolen and need to be ready for that in every sense.  Though I do understand that anyone can have a bike stolen just about anywhere, at any time; I do understand the inherently higher risk factor of city commuting as opposed to taking that higher end bicycle out for a ride where it might see almost no "out of sight" time.  If I am going to have a super exotic bicycle (which I do not) it will be ridden in a more isolated setting where it will not see time being locked up in the shuffle of downtown Albuquerque for hours on end.

 

 

My most recent commuter oriented bike build.  A $100 New old stock, mid range Fuji frameset that sat in a
 closet somewhere in the Midwest for the last 3 decades.  Affordable, reliable, and repeatable is the goal here.
 Square taper bottom bracket, 1" threaded headset, 700c wheels and friction shifting.
Easy to find, affordable to replace and cross compatible parts are prerequisite. 

 

Observation #2:  Simple parts make for simple fixes

 

Bicycle parts get dirty, wear out and break: all of them.  At one point or another (excluding those who choose to simply replace bicycles and parts before they need replacing for whatever reason) you will find yourself needing to fix or replace a facet of your bicycle.  Commuter or not, this is a reality that we all face and can not avoid. 

 

The year is 2016 and nearly every bicycle component manufacturer today sells products that are typically less than functionally optimal, requiring proprietary bits to fix proprietary components for proprietary "group sets" that usually cost far more than they should.  Long gone are the days where you can grab any ol' shifter from the bin of used parts to fix what should in more cases than not be a simple fix for a simple problem.  The basic reality of the matter is that most of us have become consumer locked into a particular company.  If you want to continue shifting your Sram drivetrain after something fails you will in most cases need a corresponding fill-in-the-blank Sram compatible component to keep the bike shifting and the flow of Sram profits growing.  The same thing can and will be said for Shimano and Campagnolo.  The "big three" as I like to call them have not only made it cost prohibitive to make minor repairs, but often times entirely impossible without buying a new component all together.  If all one can find bin of shifters at the local bike shop are old outdated Shimano and Sram bits, the likelihood of doing a quick Campagnolo fix will require good money and a longer wait time for the wholesaler to ship the part, and in turn the cyclist (most shops don't stock every little bit of componentry that is needed to make repairs in the same way that auto part shops sometimes do).  If we can figure out how to set up a more simple bicycle that depends less on proprietary based componentry, and more on universal standards, we take another step toward a more headache free, money saving DIY solution while giving the preverbal middle finger to those to try to insult our intelligence as consumers with marketing gimmicks and planned obsolescence.
 

Observation #3:  Its going to get scratched up and dented

 

Your bike was made for a reason, and if that reason happens to coincide with heavy commuting, it is going to get beat up at an accelerated rate.  From the city bus racks scratching up your fork, to careless cyclists locking up bikes frantically and dinging your frame, your commuting steed will indeed experience a storm of wear and tear regardless of whether it was built to endure or not.  Every bike (excluding one that I babied) that I have ever done any sort of commuting on has acquired a nice patina of chips, nicks, dents and scratches from usual use.  Some of the battle wounds were self inflicted while others were completely unavoidable.  The simple matter of fact is that if you have to look over your shoulder every time you take more than a few steps away from your bike (I have been here), you might want to ask yourself if your bicycle is a good pick as a commuter.

A different kind of racing

Coming from a background of competitive everything, be it martial arts and paintball tournaments to chess and magic the gathering events, I always tried to be the best that I possibly could.  Though my motivation to find greatness through adolescence was different, I always seemed genetically predisposed to strive for progress.  Finding both large and marginal improvements was something that I searched high and low for as it helped me excel in my competitive hobbies.  Unfortunately my most substantial pitfall throughout my journey was that I consistently aimed to win not for personal growth, but to be better than the next person in line.  Though I learned much and usually developed quickly (sometimes not as much), I failed to strive for what is far more important to me today; my own high potential irrespective of what others may or may not achieve.

The merits of racing

Bicycle riding and racing are very unique and interesting arts being that they require their participants to be multi-faceted in numerous ways.  Patience, physical strength and endurance, chess like foresight, nutritional knowledge, biomechanical harmony, mental tenacity and mechanical understanding are just a few key variables that immediately come to mind.  To be a successful and dynamic cyclist, racer or not, is to embody the aforementioned attributes simultaneously.  It is to the degree that we incrementally grow in each dimension that we can to that very degree enhance our over all ability as cyclists.  Racing is an outstanding stone of which we can hone our tools by being thrust into scenarios that demand our immediate receptivity.  Any lack thereof directly translates to a very visceral shortcoming.  Being pushed in different ways and stepping out of comfort zones is something that can benefit even the most recreational cyclist.  Racing sets the stage for a plethora of learning when it comes to the essential building blocks of cycling.  Be it on-the-fly mechanical problem solving or last-ditch effort psychological trickery, the race is a game of back and forth fluctuation; a cat and mouse dance with you sometimes being hunted by a field of hungry chasers.  More often than not the real race of cycling is a mental game of determination within your self.  Persistence and timing are equally key to success as brute strength and speed.  Though engaging in sportive cycling can be advantageous in more ways than not, the competitive nature of the game leads some to obsession, mental burnout and overuse injuries if not managed carefully.

Former leader of the Giro D'italia Alberto Contador holding the Maglia Rosa
 (overall leaders jersey[pink]) by taking only necessary risks, working
cohesively with his team and constantly gauging his current state.



Where are you?

There comes a point where you have to sit back and be honest with yourself about your current  physical conditioning, technical abilities and experience.  If you push so hard that you hurt yourself and others in the process of being overconfident, you may find yourself in a state of serious pain, both mentally and physically.  In the context of cycling there is not a lot that is more vexing than the mental anguish of knowing that you so easily could have avoided adversity by simply letting off the gas a bit and being realistic about the circumstances.  Taking risk is of course essential to growth, but over extending yourself so much that you inflict irreversible damage is something that is entirely avoidable altogether.  I have seen many athletes push themselves so far that the only thing that seemed to stop them was to literally fall flat on their own backs.  Mental clarity and physical resilience has to constantly be in our periphery if we are to safely climb the mountain of growth (pun intended).   

 

No need to allow you and your friends to amount to this..

The race with yourself

In 99.9% of instances there always seems to be someone out there that is in one way or another better than we are.  Be it our ability to descend technical single track or glide up double-digit grade hills, somewhere out there someone is doing it faster.  The important point that I allude to here is that no matter how hard you train, how good you are or how many races you win, there is always margin for improvement within your own sphere of activity.  Regardless of whether you are in the bottom of the barrel when it comes to your rivals or winning virtually everything in sight, your ability to move forward is entirely up to you and massively dictated by whether or not you take your own baby steps within your abilities.  So what if your friend is that much better than you; Is he/she the same age, have the same experience and fitness, ride the same bike or have the same weekly work load as you?   There are so many variables in the equation that it is entirely irrelevant if the next person is any slower or faster than you.  Assuming for a moment that you have outdone the remainder of your counterparts, would it be rational to conjure up a argument that supports a decision to stop seeking improvement?  Why let circumstances such as these in any way dictate your own personal trajectory.  What really matters is where we are, what we are doing, and identifying those areas within which we can grow.  Shy of the professionals who literally eat, breathe and sleep competitive cycling, no two individual's circumstances are alike.  You are here today with your physical abilities and the only way to progress is to identify it as just that.  This is your life we are talking about here and no one else's.  To compare ourselves to the Lance Armstrong's out there is to set such a high standard that we will no doubt feel forever inferior to our seemingly immortal idols. 

So next time we set out on a good ride with a friend lets try to be a little more receptive to the fact that each one of us is unique, and that there is no reason to be hard on ourselves or others for being incapable of maintaining that particular pace for "x" amount of time.  If we can all be inviting in ways such as this the doors open that much more to fun experience with both new and old friends.  Going out on solo rides and pushing yourself is a fantastic way to become stronger in many forms, but with regard to our fellow cyclists, we need to respect one another's unique conditions and try our best to make the most of such circumstances.



When accidents become opportunity

Every once in a while you end up taking a wrong turn that has you in unfamiliar terrain; sometimes both literally and figuratively.  Yesterday was one of those days for me, and it was another beautiful reminder of how easily every "mistake" can be taken as opportunity to experience new beauty.  Commuting with haste to meet with a friend for some bike work had me taking a corner that I though might speed up my ride.  Little did I know that not only would it slow me down tremendously, but moreover that I would discover a completely new and beautiful ditch trail that intersects what I once thought was an impassible section of town.  Beautiful Fields and vineyards were presented to me with an unforgettable sky.  Incredible smells, friendly ducks and dense overgrowth had me feeling like I was in another part of the country altogether.  Its amazing what you can find when you least expect it and are willing to embrace the accidental change of pace and familiarity.  Some of the most rewarding experiences are those unexpected and foreign.  To miss these subtle moments is to miss the subtly that is life!
 

Rule #5 and the Big Ring complex: why shifting into your small gear isn't so bad.

Almost all of us have heard of it:  the ever permeating, all to repeated words composing Rule #5.  "Harden the fuck up!" is such an integral facet of all competitive cycling disciplines (particularly road racing) that it is incredible that more cyclists have not suffered from negligence and or oblivion induced death.  To be unrealistic with our physical and sometimes mental capabilities is seemingly synonymous with the 5th rule of the Velominati's list of etiquette that helps constitute much of modern attitudes.  Pertaining to the "hard man" of today's cycling world it goes without saying that "the bigger the better" is accurate in terms of your chain ring size.  As a male (and sometimes females too) the big ring becomes a direct corollary with the level of your man/womanhood and is often worn as a badge that signifies your capabilities.  The reality of the situation seems to be that very little time is actually spent in these unpractical chain ring sizes that sever as not much more than steep, downhill descenting acceleration facilitators.  When grinding into oblivion to maintain the bad ass status, many hinder more so than benefit their cycling abilities and experiences at the expense of cool points.  Is the big ring really all that bad ass and important after all?

 

 

A mortal getting support from his friends as he
experiences a big ring induced, near death experience.

 

Riding within your abilities

 

If we are all being honest with ourselves we have to come to acknowledge that we have our own unique limits.  No level of our cycling ability should in any way be superimposed over the achievements of professionals and well trained riders that we strive to parallel.  All of us are simply at our own unique, individual levels of fitness and riding abilities as we must work within such parameters in order to ride better, have more fun, mitigate unnecessary injury and improve efficiency.  Acknowledging where you stand physical should ultimately dictate how you make gearing selection, with little to zero regard for the choices of our fellow cycling counterparts.  How do you feel on your bike in that big ring?  Is it conducive to long stints of spinning on sections other than descents?  Do you ever actually spin out the big/little ring combination?  Could a smaller gearing selection generate more practical and usable gearing combinations for less isolated chain ring and cog wear?  All of these questions should be at the forefront of decisions regarding your big and little rings (or single ring for you 1x'ers) as we all ultimately need a bicycle that is practical to ride without hurting ourselves in the process of doing so.
 

These are not our legs.. so lets stop pretending already?

 

Shift already... Its ok... really..

 

The correlation between needing bailout gears to help you get up a hill and lacking ability as well as hardness is what in my opinion can be accredited to there being so many road bike re-sales in bike shops, Craig's List and Ebay alike.  Most people (myself included on my strongest days) can simply not turn a 52-50 x anything for any period of time that is worth noting.  Sure, maybe we can sustain a power output that moves us along at a decent clip utilizing such a ratio, but by the time its all said and done the likely hood that we would actually want to do it again would be slim to none.  Even many "compact" rings/cassettes are rather harsh even for many avid, fit cyclists.  How nice it would be to see "entry" level road bikes outfitted with something along the lines of a 30x46 double chain ring set.  Such gearing selection would help less fit or beginner cyclists acclimate to higher cadences and power outputs without doing so at the expense of overuse injuries such as tendonitis and unnecessary onset muscle soreness.  Having fun on a bicycle starts with being honest, getting practical and assessing your current cycling needs for the sake of not just your physical healthy, but mental sanity as well.  So please, take a look at your bike sometime and ask yourself if you are really doing yourself a service by running the setup as you do, or simply holding yourself back and making a fool out of yourself in the process of being stubborn while doing so.

Not a roadie, not a mountain biker, just a cyclist.

Being that I am not looking, it becomes quite alright that I can't seem to find a real place in the cycling world within which to be compartmentalized.  Sure, I spend lots of time riding on dirt as well as logging plenty of road miles throughout the year, but there seems to be a lack of people to ride with considering the fact that I refuse to choose purely one riding style over the other while often incorporate the two in single rides.  Though the gravel/adventure bike scene has been the hottest thing to hit the market as of late and helps to slightly blur the lines between off vs on road cycling, there still seems to be a road/mountain biker dichotomy that splits the cycling world like a razor blade.  Take your pick; Peleton or Dirt Rag magazine, chamois or shorts, SPD cleats/shoes or platform pedals.  There is very much a black and white, one vs the other mentality that plagues the industry and only perpetuates the division between what at the end of the day are often like minded individuals.  Many of us clearly enjoy riding bicycles, being outdoors and enjoying the wonderful virtues of nature while appreciating high quality things in life such as good food, coffee and beer/wine.  So what is it about a simple thing such as big vs small tires that has us forming cliques, stigmas and often deliberate avoidance and or omission of one an other's presence?

Above is Pauline ferrand-prévot (center), the first woman to hold the road,
 mountain and cyclocross world championships all at one time. 

You ride a bike? Me too..

After having worked in a bicycle shop for the last two months (a very down to earth one mind you), I have seen self proclaimed cyclists of virtually every orientation come through and spread their wings.  From the uber hip, fashionable (?), fixed gear riding youngsters to the snobby, everything-retro-is-better proselytizing grouch and the conversely (and sometimes not so much) well financed, ultra high tech loving road and mountain cyclists, I have watched as they come, spoken their language, and gone.  Bits of dialogue I pick up on range from an absolute religious like worship for tech and new gear, to seemingly rare utterances of praise for the joy the act of cycling in and of itself.  Whispers of things that are undoubtedly indicative of a cyclists attempt at identifying with fill-in-the-blank genre become all to solidified after correlating the talk with the walk.  There is a style and swagger behind the various cycling sub-genres that have genius marketing schemes capitalizing on and further compounding the sub-culture mentality within cycling.  Books such as Bicycle Tribes have come to identify, but (inadvertently?) perpetuate the dissemination of cyclist sects within which one can relate to, and then ultimately become assimilated within.  Conforming to social, cycling, eating and drinking habits, the cyclist who identifies her/himself as a one particular walk of rider vs another has not only hindered their ability to congregate within other cyclists, but literally and figuratively confines their cycling style and riding boundaries.  There are certain unspoken rules and style dos and donts within the cycling community that very much compose the core backbone of what it means to be a roadie or a Mountain bike.  It is the dissolution of such dichotomies that interest me as a cyclist, mechanic and writer.

A cyclist stands by her commuter; a mountain bike equipped with racks for toting, drop bars 
for speed and big, plush tires for comfort. (Image courtesy of http://bikecommutechallenge.com/)

 

Walking the walk

It doesn't take much to spread the good vibes of cyclist inclusion.  Go out on that all day ride with the "roadies" and get your ass kicked a bit while showing them how much fun you are able to have on your not so pure bred road bike.  You could always invite your "fixie only" riding friend to join you on a slightly more adventurous ride to broaden the horizons.  What about taking that "gravel grinder" bike of yours out on some rougher trails and splicing in some love for the die hard mountain bikers?  We all need people to come in and shake things up a bit, blending good styles and aspects of cycling from all genres.  If riding a single speed road bike while wearing tall socks with SPD (mountain cycling) shoes, a messenger bag, lycra shorts and a skateboarding helmet is your thing; please, by all means.  As half of the struggle here is a style war, the further we remove ourselves from various cliques the more we can allow ourselves to be where we want, riding how we really want to with a hopefully increasing number of like minded individuals.

Steel bicycle frames: the pros, the cons, and why I continue to ride them

In the bicycle world, the steel vs fill-in-the-blank frame material conversation is so seemingly prevalent that one can easily wonder whether or not a visit to the local bike shop will end in a vehement, single sided argument with both sides walking away equally bitter.  It's an all too often classic fight of the ages; the iconoclast, vintage thumping retro-grouch vs the space age, "latest and greatest everything is better" proselytizing contrarian.  Though the above mentioned observation may seem somewhat black and white, it unfortunately proves to be the case in most instances.  Seldom do I experience truly open ended conversations encompassing unbiased views pertaining to "old vs new" that encourage a rational middle ground.  For this very reason I desire to open up a can of worms that seems to stand as the mother-of-all conversational focal points within the bicycling community while doing so with the most carefully considered and all encompassing approach possible.

All is compromise

When selecting tubing material for your bicycle there is without question a large handful of variables that must be considered: the more important being frame weight, handling characteristics, load capacity, terrain application, longevity and ease of repair.  What it really boils down to is what you plan on doing with your bike: road racing, loaded touring, trail riding, track racing, urban commuting, cyclocross, ect.  The desired application should dictate initial considerations followed by aspects of lesser concern.  The next focal point for anyone without bottomless pockets of cash would logically be the cost-benefit-ratio.  An acquisition that incorporates palatable levels of reliability, cost effectiveness and performance is what I feel most cyclists look for and will serve as an adequate template for what follows.  Steel, aluminum, titanium and carbon fiber compose the landscape of modern frame building material and vary highly in cost, weight, ultimate tensile strength, fatigue life, ease of working (welding, bending, heat treatment, ect) and handling characteristics.  Diving into metallurgic properties can in and of itself warrant for a lengthy write up that I hope to avoid within this post while conversely touching on some of the basic aspects that give steel the characteristics that have contributed to a somewhat cult like obsession for many.  Hearing catchy phrases thrown around such as "steel is real" and "hand built steel is the best" as often as I do has only further solidified the fact that though steel is an outstanding material choice for many, a tremendous amount of it's momentum in re-emerging as a high end bicycle frame material is partially based on marketing capitalization and myth surrounding racing legends as well as custom frame builders.  The reality is that steel bicycle frames can be made as either outstanding tools that endure decades of abuse, or as poorly fabricated, incorrectly purposed junkers that suffer from terrible handling characteristics and low fatigue/tensile life expectancy.

Though slightly dated, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology publication
"Bicycle Science" has let the numbers do the talking with this informative
comparrison chart.  Not alot has changed with steel, aluminum, titanium and
carbon composits over the years.

 

 Economic material, economic results

Having worked as a professional metal fabricator for the last 4 years I have been afforded the luxury of having first hand experience with working steel of all sorts. From stainless and chromoly alloys to hardened tool and hot/cold rolled mild steel, I have spent countless hours bending, machining, plasma cuing, welding, rolling, hydraulically forming, grinding, polishing, sanding and tumbling steel in most ways imaginable. I have watched very low quality steel take tremendous abuse over and over again without failing, and conversely watched things like chromoly fail from what would seem like normal use under conditions that in theory would not exceed it's fatigue or ultimate tensile threshold. The reality of the matter is that not all steels are extruded, bent/rolled, forged/cast or welded and heat treated equally. It is my opinion that these facets account for more of the wild card variables that give rise to frame failure out on the road than say the bicycle simply being "cheap".  Having owned everything from hand built fixed gear and mountain bike frames to mass produced counterparts of both modern and vintage makes, the overall take away from years of riding both ends of the spectrum is that products of comparable quality can be found in both small-batch made bespoke bicycles as well as japanese/taiwanese mass produced frame sets.  Though this is a generally accurate rule of thumb, it is by no means always the case.  It's not so much that your fill-in-the-blank custom frame builder of choice has a mythical, Midas-like touch that renders their work impervious to failure as it is that small batched, hand worked, quality controlled production tends to be more conducive to consistency than say mega factories with super large batches of mass produced frames. 

Kusaka San of the now defunct Vivalo Bicycles tacks an
aligned bicycle frame.  I owned and heavily rode a bicycle
 built by this man that was nothing short of spectacular.

 

 Why I choose steel

I often times liken the act of purchasing/riding a steel bicycle to that of owning a Toyota as opposed to a Porsche. Though the Porsche (being super thin walled, light weight aluminum and carbon fiber frames) will get you from point A to B (usually), the likelihood of being able to do so consistently, for long periods of time without experiencing issues along the way is not so high. The Toyota (being steel bicycle frames) is by most standards an inexpensive vehicle to own that will typically last for ages without showing many signs of problem. Being that parts are so readily available, in more cases than not it is substantially easier and more affordable to service when time comes. Though the Toyota will generally be slightly heavier, slower, and less sporty in appearance, it's utilitarian purpose as a quality vehicle that excels at many things, while failing to be perfect at any one, pays dividends for the not so purely race oriented consumer. The ultimate differentiating factor between the Porsche (similar makes as well) and Toyota is that the Porsche is a sport machine being sold to typically non-sporting consumers, whereas the Toyota was built more so with comfort, ease of transport and reliability in mind. Just as the automotive industry benefits massively from counter intuitive marketing schemes does the ever lucrative bicycle industry seek to do the same by selling the fastest, lightest and most technologically advanced product to a consumer who does not only lack a need for a such a specialized synthesis, but would more than likely otherwise lack the inclination to make such a purchase all together. Typically the speed of these race machines come at the cost of harsher geometry, super stiff riding characteristics (the previous not pertaining to suspended mountain bike frames), super high tolerance component requirements, seriously compromised fatigue life and greater likelihood of catastrophic failure during a crash.  Some of these mega bicycle manufacturing think tanks have not only insulted our intelligence as consumers by attempting to sell us fragile products with short life expectancy, but often time locked us into product marriage with new and obscure component standards that leave us going back to the same few, if not singular, component manufacturer(s) for their usually expensive replacement parts. The beauty with the steel bicycle (think Toyota again) is that for the most part, product support, interchangeability and universal standardization has opened up the doors to inexpensive repair, DIY modification and easier home mechanic serviceability.

My old steel workhorse (mass produced 1989 Diamondback Apex) that has 

endured innumerable loaded commutes, city bus rides,

truck bed transporting, off road rides, pot hole hits, bicycle rack smacks, ect..  

Though the steel tubing is slightly thicker than I would normally prefer,

the handling characteristics are outstanding with the bicycle loaded down.

Racing requires race machines

Those of you who have read even a few of my blog posts will have come to the realization that I stand firm in my decision that we as "serious" cyclists have to level with ourselves in acknowledging the fact that most of us simply are not, and never will be racers.  It's something that contrary to heavy marketing exposure, we as consumers must come to terms with if we are to establish rational purchasing habits.

  Hypothetically speaking, if I were to set out on a mission to seek contention in professional racing I would certainly look toward lighter, stiffer and more aerodynamic bicycle materials such as aluminum and titanium. When longevity and previously mentioned considerations cease to be critical, the text above understandably looses most traction. Winning races has not, and never will be about mounting your bike and hoping that it will perform daily, over and over again with minimal issue. The main consideration in racing is that the bicycle can complete it's task well enough that the race(s?) has/have been completed without any mechanical failures. When sponsors such as component manufacturers and frame constructors facilitate racer's sporting endeavors, all necessity for long term durability and strength become sacrificed at the expense of speed in every dimension that it entails. For applications such as these, choosing steel begins to seem like less and less like a logical decision as carbon fiber immediately comes to mind. Though carbon fiber often fails catastrophically during races, it is typically negated as a concern due to the consistent replacement of frame sets, wheels and all carbon cockpit components donated by sponsors. The disposable factor is more or less irrelevant for these high echelon cycling teams and riders who are the beneficiaries of a never ending flow of replacement bits.  For those of us who are not so generously taken care of, seeing our dollar go a long way is simply a must in a world where it is becoming incrasingly depreciated and harder to come by.  It is for these very reasons that I see steel as a frame material has making the most sense for my riding habits and mentality.  Though it might not be for everyone, it is certainly one that almost everyone can afford  to own and replace if damaged or stolen.

I am now a "Happy Bikes" family member

I am now officially part of Stevie's Happy Bikes crew in Corralles, New Mexico and will be helping out with mechanic/sales work a few days out of the week when it starts to warm up here.  I never seriously considered working for a bike shop until recently when I became more acquainted with Stevie and his way of work.  The shop that he runs outside of Albuquerque is my cup of  tea being that second hand bikes and consignments are emphasized far more than pushing new bike sale quotas and super high end componentry.  The yard is littered with vintage road, mountain and cruiser bikes spanning many decades evoking the sense of orphan children looking for TLC and good homes.  Though they do sell new bicycles and components, the central focal point is on practical bicycles that will regularly be ridden as opposed to 4-5 $ digit race machines.  The fit seems great for me and will certainly be a positive environment for me to spread my wings, giving attention to the blue collar side of the spectrum and helping promote cycling for all, not just the affluent. 

A short video showing the life at Happy Bikes

How many bikes are enough?

With the ability to choose from road: commuter, adventure, gravel, touring, cyclocross, cross country, enduro and downhill bicycles, the options seem myriad and leave the doors open to one of the more obvious questions facing cyclists; how many bikes are enough?  To begin answering this question would be to first really break down the various styles of bikes offered today.  From featherweight, aerodynamic road bikes to 5"+ travel suspended mountain bikes, we must figure out what we are trying to achieve, how often we are trying to achieve it and determine what constitutes a reasonable amount of money to spend in the process.  A logical follow up question would be to ask how many bicycles can fill multiple roles at one time without sacrificing to much in one realm or another.  The balance of compromise seems to be all to prevalent in the world of cycling; particularly pertaining to the rider seeking "jack of all trades" style bikes.

Speed and light weight vs comfort and durability

Two of the biggest aspects obsessed over in cycling are light weight products coupled with ultimate speed.  The desire to go faster for longer periods of time is a goal that most cyclists strive to achieve at one point or another and often overshadows the cost/benefit ratio of such an equation.  To get something for nothing is simply never the case as light weight frames and componentry will always come at an inversely proportional cost of strength and durability.  A thoroughbred road race machine for example will exhibit characteristics that lend itself to lightning fast hill climbs and wind tunnel test worthy times on the tarmac but will lack when the going gets rough and terrain becomes somewhat bumpy and uneven.  Someone once said that "to overspecialize is to breed in weakness" and could easily have been speaking particularly about the bicycle when making this assertion.  It is to the degree that one aspect becomes more and more the focal point of purpose that other aspects become further from grasp.  If your goal is to have the fastest road bicycle possible you will find that it is best to operate such a machine within the particular parameters it was designed around.  Pushing to far into the opposite end of the operational spectrum will deliver a sometimes painful and expensive message.  

Gauge your riding style well and try
 not to be like this person...

When it comes to bridging the gap between bicycle genres you indeed make trade offs.  A more sturdy aluminium or steel frame will cost you extra weight and thus be slower but will begin to pay dividends when it comes to longevity and overall comfort.  The aggressive geometry of a race steed will  pay a toll on you physiologically as a hunched over, aerodynamic position taxes the body if held for long periods of time on a regular basis.  Conversely, too relaxed of geometry will not lend itself well to consistent lengths of power output and will in turn also be sluggish in the corners. Figuring out what importance one facet or the other plays in your cycling experience will be completely personal and should be ultimately determined by your intentions.  An important question to ask at this point is whether or not you are really a full-tilt professional looking for marginal weight savings and aerodynamics geared toward every particular genre of riding or someone who wants to get the most out of their bicycle purchases.

Dynamic and enduring

These two words above best epitomize a well spent dollar for non-millionaire individuals lacking bottomless pockets of cash.  To acquire something that does a few, or possibly many jobs well and is simultaneously enduring constitutes true efficacy.  If you are the type of cyclist that likes to go beyond a purely road or mountain oriented ride in a more recreational inclined fashion, the words in the header above will in time present themselves to be just as necessary as desirable.  By bridging the gap between some of the never ending bicycle genres you can do some serious downsizing to your current and/or hypothetical bicycle stable while conversely upgrading your wallet in the process.  The question once again arises; what do you want to do with your bicycle(s)?  Perhaps you like road riding but also enjoy good stints of back road gravel trekking.  Or maybe you are into fast paced boulder ridden trail riding and at the same time enjoy less gnarly fire road rides.  Do the previously mentioned riders really need two not so different yet equally expensive bikes to fill the void of two similarly related objectives?

The late Jobst Brandt (highly revered bicycle critic, 
mechanical engineer, author and avid cyclist) making easy
work of some dirt trails on his "road" bike.

Fewer bikes, less profitibility

 For the sake of length (i tend to carry on) subtle bicycle differences will be ignored in this particular post to try and stay on topic.  The main concern attempting to be expressed is an overabundance of bicycle consumption geared toward a market of  riders that lack the time or necessity to justify such niche orientated, overlapping bicycle purchases.  Cutting through the industry fluff in today's world is just as important as understanding the subtle intricacies that compose bicycle similarities and differences.  There is certainly more in common with a cross country and enduro bicycle than fill in the blank manufactures will lead you to believe, and for a very good reason at that.   The bicycle marketing think tanks that be will lead you to believe that you need one particular bicycle, for every possible riding scenario.  It is simply not lucrative for the mega bicycle conglomerates that dominate the market to sit back and watch as masses of riders downsize their purchasing habits with less frequency.  In order to prop up the bicycle industry such manufactures feed on current trends that exhibit even the slightest bit of traction.  If a slightly new wheel size for example (think 29'er in the mid 00's and 650b circa 2012)  proves itself in the world racing circuit battle ground, you better believe that every effort will be made to lead you into believing that your previous setup is now obsolete.  The objective of never ending bicycle sales coupled with race oriented, weight and speed obsessed cyclists will continue to pave the way for more and more styles of bicycles to fill more and more supposedly niche riding.  It is up to us a cyclists to cast a voice using our most valuable tool being our dollar.  Our purchasing power tells such companies and industry annalists that we are indeed intelligent and discerning cyclists.  If we continue to feed into the previously mentioned propaganda we will certainly perpetuate the train of planned obsolescence that has already gained such momentum.  Perhaps the next time you watch Alberto Contador (6 time grand tour winning road cyclist) climb the Pyrenees, or Julien Absalon (6 time world cup winning mountain biker) descend rock gardens in Windham, ask yourself if its really the $9,000, brand new super light bicycle in between their legs that enables them to do what it is they do with such grace, or perhaps more so their fitness, skill and accurate bicycle fitment.