A long time ago, in a land far, far away...
Ahem.
In Eastern Connecticut, which, to a Western Connecticut kid was about as foreign as, say, New York City (but in the opposite way), I went to a town called Old Lyme to do a new criterium. The course went around the high school and featured, in its 0.4 mile length, two sweeping turns. The first turn, right after the start/finish, was a long right turn - almost a U-turn. For me it was a special turn, straight out of the CBS coverage of pro racing in Europe.
It was paved in cobbles.
The (paved, unfortunately) backstretch bent to the left, then a very hard right turn led you onto the long straight curving to the right.
A kid, a strong kid, was doing my race. Obnoxious little twerp too - he wore aviator sunglasses (at 16 years old!) with a geeky bike mirror mounted on them. I should add that when I say "little", it's all relative - he towered over me. Anyway, you only put such a mirror on for one thing - to check behind to see how far ahead you were of the field.
In other words, if you had the balls to put such a mirror on, you better have the legs to back them up.
This Kid, he had the legs.
But I had something else, a technological edge. We both went into the first turn together on one lap. I pedaled, he pedaled, nothing happened to me, he dug his into the cobbles. He ended up riding on the grass, laughing. We all eased up, smirking and smiling, he got back on, and the Kid didn't pedal in the turn again.
I had Gipiemme pedals - half length axles, insane cornering clearance. I figured out that if I attacked at the start/finish line, I could completely pedal through the first turn, get about a 3 or 4 second gap, carry it to the next hard turn, pedal through that, and launch into the sprint with a 50 meter gap on the next rider.
The obnoxious Kid would have to eat his mirror.
At the bell I launched hard - and the Kid did too. As soon as he jumped, I realized what he was doing - if he got there first, I'd use up a lot of my pedaling advantage simply passing him. This would keep me within shooting distance for the rest of the course. I pedaled desperately but it wasn't enough. He got to the turn first, coasted, and although I passed him in the turn, I only had a 5 or 10 meter gap leaving the turn. I frantically sprinted through the last turn, out of the saddle, tires skittering, but I had all of 20 meters on him. To my utter dismay he came roaring by me to win the race. I sat up, my dream of winning totally deflated - and two more racers went by me, including the kid's less obnoxious teammate (that one had sunglasses but no mirror).
I conferred with my teammates, some of them 3s, and they said I should race the 4s.
The Cat 4s?
I was a Junior. Junior gear limits. 53x15 Kid. 4s were big guys. Adults. 53x12. They had jobs and stuff. They had already gone through puberty.
With some prodding though my teammates succeeded in getting me to register for the Cat 4s. Nervously I lined up. I had no idea what to expect - it was my first Senior race ever. I looked around at the guys - grizzled cheeks (they had to shave), glasses, fancy bikes, serious looks on their faces - not scared like most Juniors. But like all adults, they were missing some of the "coolness" things. I distinctly remember uncool tube socks on one racer.
What I didn't realize until that moment is that the Juniors races were Category 1 through 4. In other words, that obnoxious kid was a Cat 1 or 2. But when I raced the 4s, I'd be racing Cat 4s. Racers like, well, like me. Although I was young, I was a Cat 4 too.
I expected a flurry of attacks as soon as the race left the line - that's how Juniors race. So when we rolled away somewhat leisurely, I wondered what was up. Maybe they were like pros - go easy at the beginning, so easy anyone can keep up, then they drop the hammer at the end.
I nervously patrolled the front, responding to pretty much every attack. And when the bell rang for a prime, I shot out of the field and went pedaling into the first turn. My gap there, I sprinted to the second, pedaled through that, and hit the line well clear of everyone else.
I just beat the Seniors!
Elated, I let the group come back and eased back into the field. At the next prime, I launched again. And like before, I sprinted out of the last turn well clear of my pursuers.
This happened four times that day. Four bells for primes, four relatively easy primes for me.
I started getting nervous. Perhaps the guys were letting me go, letting me cook myself. After all, when I started racing I was told to go for primes before going for places, but once I focused on places, I should back off on the primes. So these guys who had to shave (probably every day!), who had weathered skin and no baby fat, maybe they were letting me cook myself.
It wasn't the case. At the bell I launched a furious attack, sprinting through the first turn. I'd sprint to the next (and final) turn and do the same. By now I could sprint out of the saddle through the tight turn, the tires skittering sideways, the bike chattering across the pavement. A big dip shot my bike across the road as I exited - scary but totally predictable.
I crossed the line, ecstatic. I remembered the tape of Davis Phinney winning the US Pro Championships in Baltimore in the longest sprint I could ever imagine - I felt like that's what I'd just done by sprinting around the whole (short) course. I'd won every prime and I'd won the race. My grin went from Boston to Santa Monica and nothing could wipe it off my face.
I settled down enough to watch the Veterans (as the Masters were known back then). They were racing pretty hard and I wondered how I'd do against the really old guys.
I sensed someone near me and I turned to look.
The Kid.
He was hanging out, trying to be cool. He had his team Fuji skinsuit on, sat on his saddle, one long leg stretched out to the ground, his toes keeping him upright. He appeared to notice that I was there.
"So, you won the 4 race?" he asked.
"Yeah," my face still glowing.
"You won all the primes too, didn't you?"
"Yeah." The Kid was asking me!
"You doing the 3s?"
"No, I can't, I'm just a 4."
He contemplated what I just said. Then he said a magical word.
"Good."
And he rolled away.
I didn't see him again until July 4th that year, the big criterium in Middletown. The wide roads made the small Junior field seem even smaller but this had been my first race two years ago and I was looking to do something in the race. I had to - my first race had been a total fiasco and I got dropped two turns into the race. Now as one of the older Juniors I felt like I should be in a position to do something.
Right.
The Kid lined up, his Fuji skinsuit and confident swagger different from the rest of the nervous Juniors. The gun went off and we all shot into the first turn. The Junior gear limit was a 53x15 and it seemed like we might as well have had single speeds because we were just flying around the course, the hill a simple five or six pedal strokes in our 15T.
The pace increased rapidly until one racer snapped the elastic and shot away from the field.
The Kid.
He motored away, checking, I'm sure, his obnoxious mirror.
He disappeared around the corners, out of sight. The remaining Juniors chased, at least those that could, but it was hopeless. He won by half a lap, averaging, apparently something like 30 mph for the last lap or two.
If that wasn't enough, he lined up for the Cat 1-2 race. At the time this was probably one of the biggest crits out there - and he was in there with all the big boys. His older teammates were favorites so he spent 50 laps patrolling the front of the race, chasing down rivals, keeping the pace high when things were together. His work is immortalized in the 1988 Cannondale Catalog - pages 4 and 5, a two page spread, shows a skinny kid in grey, aviator glasses, obnoxious mirror, leading one of the strongest fields New England could field that year.
He was 16 years old.
Fast forward to Central Park, maybe six or seven years later.
I was sitting in the field, a Cat 3 now, lost in the sea of Pros, 1s, and 2s in this Pro throough 3 race. Cruising along at the back I realized I was next to a star IME rider, Frank McCormack.
I knew who he was because I'd followed his career in VeloNews and Winning ever since I watched him demolish the Junior field and control the Cat 1s and 2s at Middletown back in 1985, all while wearing an obnoxious mirror on his sunglasses. He'd lost the mirror, gained a ton of power, and now defined how a top domestic pro rode in the US.
We approached the hill on the course - at this relatively easy pace we'd need to be in the small ring. At the time we were both spinning in the big ring, a big cog, probably a 53x19. We'd need to be in the 39x15.
I happened to look over when he shifted his STI levers. "Click" on his left lever while his right went "Click, click, click, click." It took perhaps a half second, maybe a bit more. How fast can you click a single-click-at-a-time STI lever? I watched him settle into his new gear, the double shift accurate. Of course, right? He'd ridden tens of thousands of miles that year on that bike.
He turned and looked at me watching him. I turned my face from him and looked down at my brand new, just installed, barely available Ergo levers.
"Click" went the left side. The right made a whirr noise "Clikliklick" as I shoved the thumb button down. I was instantly in the right gear - perhaps a tenth of a second, about the same time it takes for a downtube setup to do the same shift.
I looked back up at him. He paused, digesting what he just saw. He looked up at me, no emotion, just a racer looking at pack fodder, and turned to look up the road. He had more important things to do.
He was the demi-god in the field, the "Pro", "IME", mentored by the Irish McCormack brothers Frank and Alan (no relation, at least not immediate). He wasn't a punk 16 year old kid anymore. He had responsibilities.
He had a race to annihilate.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Life - Working From Home
We were talking one day and the missus has observed some changes based in part on my working from home. Although there are innumerable advantages, there are some definite disadvantages. The advantages include lower transportation costs (I have to make a conscious effort to drive the cars enough to keep rust off the brakes - and even then I end up with rusty rotors), zero commute time, healthier eating (there aren't $200 worth of free candy, chips, and soda available at all times), and simply being close to home.
The disadvantages are somewhat significant. Because I work from home, I feel that if I'm not at the computer ready to respond to emergencies then I'm not doing (part of) my job. So I sit tethered for 8 hours, taking very short breaks for the washroom or to nuke food for a couple minutes. The missus noticed I started having problems getting tired - I was literally resting all day and therefore couldn't stay asleep for a whole night.
A second "minus" is the fact that I can't really socialize. Phone calls increased a bit, same with the Skype chats, but there's no sitting in the kitchen, eating lunch, and chatting about random things with a co-worker. I work with my brother and at the office we'd spend the occasional hour, standing next to our cars, talking about various things. All this is gone now. The missus half seriously suggested signing up with a guy who rents out desks to those that work from home. He works from home, missed the social aspect, and thought it would be cool to have other people working from home to work from his home. He rents out a desk, supplies free coffee and internet, and a bunch of "working from home" people work together. Interesting concept, that's for sure.
A third negative element is I can't drive my car too much. I suffered through some tough times in the office and I'd just keep telling myself, "As soon as I leave the office, I can drive my beloved car." And my trip home would be my typical adventure - trying to time traffic so I hit all my exit and entrance ramps clearly (and therefore I could also try and hit them cleanly), perhaps practice 0-60 launches from rest stop entrance ramps. I had to stop the latter after I realized I was going through my clutch quicker than expected but you get the idea - I had a little motivation for working through the day. On a bike it might be targeting stepping stones up a long climb - "I'll go to that bend.. ok now to that mailbox... ok now to that sign." If you do that long enough you end up topping out the climb, and your efforts were doled out in some manageable way. At any rate, driving one of my cars (one gets good mileage, one is simply a lot of fun to drive) is a form of motivation, a way of seeing the end of the day for me. At home I'm lacking that particular element of motivation.
Finally, I rarely get to listen to music. Not the way I like to anyway. I didn't listen to music in the office (unless it was late) but I definitely listened on the way to and from the office. There's something cathartic about loud music (it's better if it's blended in with cycling on a trainer but the car works too) and right now my car has the best stereo I own. So with its subwoofer massaging my lower back and the mirrors trembling on every beat, my commute home let me drown my ears and body in music. The apartment and working at my desk eliminates the opportunity to listen to my car too much, and I typically keep the noise level down when I work. The end result is that whenever we need something minor in the evening, I volunteer to go get it and crank the music to and from the store.
So although it's really cool to not have to commute, it's still got its "things".
The disadvantages are somewhat significant. Because I work from home, I feel that if I'm not at the computer ready to respond to emergencies then I'm not doing (part of) my job. So I sit tethered for 8 hours, taking very short breaks for the washroom or to nuke food for a couple minutes. The missus noticed I started having problems getting tired - I was literally resting all day and therefore couldn't stay asleep for a whole night.
A second "minus" is the fact that I can't really socialize. Phone calls increased a bit, same with the Skype chats, but there's no sitting in the kitchen, eating lunch, and chatting about random things with a co-worker. I work with my brother and at the office we'd spend the occasional hour, standing next to our cars, talking about various things. All this is gone now. The missus half seriously suggested signing up with a guy who rents out desks to those that work from home. He works from home, missed the social aspect, and thought it would be cool to have other people working from home to work from his home. He rents out a desk, supplies free coffee and internet, and a bunch of "working from home" people work together. Interesting concept, that's for sure.
A third negative element is I can't drive my car too much. I suffered through some tough times in the office and I'd just keep telling myself, "As soon as I leave the office, I can drive my beloved car." And my trip home would be my typical adventure - trying to time traffic so I hit all my exit and entrance ramps clearly (and therefore I could also try and hit them cleanly), perhaps practice 0-60 launches from rest stop entrance ramps. I had to stop the latter after I realized I was going through my clutch quicker than expected but you get the idea - I had a little motivation for working through the day. On a bike it might be targeting stepping stones up a long climb - "I'll go to that bend.. ok now to that mailbox... ok now to that sign." If you do that long enough you end up topping out the climb, and your efforts were doled out in some manageable way. At any rate, driving one of my cars (one gets good mileage, one is simply a lot of fun to drive) is a form of motivation, a way of seeing the end of the day for me. At home I'm lacking that particular element of motivation.
Finally, I rarely get to listen to music. Not the way I like to anyway. I didn't listen to music in the office (unless it was late) but I definitely listened on the way to and from the office. There's something cathartic about loud music (it's better if it's blended in with cycling on a trainer but the car works too) and right now my car has the best stereo I own. So with its subwoofer massaging my lower back and the mirrors trembling on every beat, my commute home let me drown my ears and body in music. The apartment and working at my desk eliminates the opportunity to listen to my car too much, and I typically keep the noise level down when I work. The end result is that whenever we need something minor in the evening, I volunteer to go get it and crank the music to and from the store.
So although it's really cool to not have to commute, it's still got its "things".
Monday, November 12, 2007
Training - Thoughts on 2007-2008
Sorry for clogging the blog with "For Sale" posts. I just re-installed an application that allows me to reduce picture size (from 1-1.2MB to "tiny") so I can post them directly in my ads instead of linking to posts in the blog. I might have gained a reader or two but I feel like the For Sale posts dilute whatever I wrote before.
Therefore the For Sale things are done.
This past week has been pretty busy with a new project for us, a project that is only remotely bike related. A lot of calls, discussions, and various thoughts and decisions to make. Lots of time and energy and unfortunately so far not much to show for it yet. I hope we make some progress but for now we just take it as it comes.
So I've been distracting myself by thinking about the new bike.
I just, and I mean just, finished putting almost all of it together. I'll ride it on a trainer "as is" then do the final bit, the piece that finishes the bike - wrap the tape. Required tasks to get the bike to this point included cutting the steerer tube (done courtesy of Cycle Center for a nominal fee - but I forgot to order the star nut setting tool so I'll have to do that), swapping out the wheels (the Fulcrum 1 wheelset just looked so cool I didn't want to take them off but they're finally sitting to the side - they're for sale), switching pedals from my primary Giant, and fixing up (cutting down) the cables.
When I first finish up a bike I leave the tape off - somehow it seems that if I wrap the bars, everything is wrong - and if they're not wrapped, things are fine. Superstition may not be scientific but I prefer to wait for a ride to wrap my bars.
A good friend of mine playfully accused me of choosing this bike because it matches my current kit. And although I denied it wholeheartedly, I did admit that if the colors were very different - say, the Giant T-Mobile pink - I'd have probably skipped spending the extra coin for the replica aspect of it.
Whatever, the bike currently matches my kit - being blue, green, and black.
Because it matches my current kit, the bike also matches various other things - my Zenith blue rimmed wheels and, um, well, that's it.
In Florida Mandy pointed out one day, on a miserable rainy ride, that I "matched". My blue tires, blue wheels, blue and green kit (including arm warmers, a wind vest, LS jersey, bib knickers, and a Kelme cap that echoed the colors nicely), all against a grey/black background (the frame, components, and winter stuff like booties and gloves). I'm proud to say that I'll be continuing this obsessive compulsive matching thing.
Although for now I'll be using the Zeniths, I have my view on aero wheels and why one should train on them all the time. I have my eye on some Williams Cycling wheels and if I can sell off some of my other wheelsets, I'll be getting a set of those for my bike. Ultimately they'd be used for everything from easy recovery days to "racing training" rides - group rides which will substitute for races on appropriate training days.
Having such wheels also makes it so much easier to go scampering after various vehicular traffic going about 35-45 mph.
But I digress.
I wouldn't be thinking along these lines if my 2008 season was going to mirror my 2007 - train a bit until the end of February, then ride about 1300 miles from then through the beginning of November.
Such training can't justify new aero wheels for training.
I think a normal Cat 3 would have blown my March-November mileage out of the water in four or five weeks, not the eight or nine months it took me to register those hard earned klicks. For me, 2007 had a lot of major distractions - prep the house for sale (refinish floors, clean out house, do extensive yard prep, unclutter house into a PODS), sell said house, move, prep for a wedding while searching for a house, get married, and go on a honeymoon. This on top of the normal race promotion exhaustion in March and April which overlapped a new tax workload on the then-future-missus.
Lots of stuff in 10 months.
Admittedly the wedding and honeymoon weren't painful in any way - in fact, I'd recommend it for those in long, steady relationships - but from a cycling point of view the two events simply served to prolong the pause before returning to any sort of serious cycling.
We got back, kept looking for houses, and then the weather turned cold.
I managed to get my fun car into shelter for the upcoming winter months this last Saturday, another use of a day that might have been, in a different life, a good day for a group ride.
The aforementioned project took almost five hours out of our last Sunday - another potential group ride out the window. I did see a three rider "pack" twiddle past me on a big climb - does that count as a bit of cathartic training?
In between those two days last weekend, on the drive back from tucking in the fun car for the winter, the missus made a somewhat startling statement.
"I think you should race all the races next year. Get the schedule and sign up for them. And we'll go to the races on those weekends."
I must have been a bit speechless as such carte blanche is rarely granted. I focused on staying on the road.
"Plus, I like watching you race."
I guess that's one of the many reasons why she's the missus.
So it's time to get my act into gear.
Therefore the For Sale things are done.
This past week has been pretty busy with a new project for us, a project that is only remotely bike related. A lot of calls, discussions, and various thoughts and decisions to make. Lots of time and energy and unfortunately so far not much to show for it yet. I hope we make some progress but for now we just take it as it comes.
So I've been distracting myself by thinking about the new bike.
I just, and I mean just, finished putting almost all of it together. I'll ride it on a trainer "as is" then do the final bit, the piece that finishes the bike - wrap the tape. Required tasks to get the bike to this point included cutting the steerer tube (done courtesy of Cycle Center for a nominal fee - but I forgot to order the star nut setting tool so I'll have to do that), swapping out the wheels (the Fulcrum 1 wheelset just looked so cool I didn't want to take them off but they're finally sitting to the side - they're for sale), switching pedals from my primary Giant, and fixing up (cutting down) the cables.
When I first finish up a bike I leave the tape off - somehow it seems that if I wrap the bars, everything is wrong - and if they're not wrapped, things are fine. Superstition may not be scientific but I prefer to wait for a ride to wrap my bars.
A good friend of mine playfully accused me of choosing this bike because it matches my current kit. And although I denied it wholeheartedly, I did admit that if the colors were very different - say, the Giant T-Mobile pink - I'd have probably skipped spending the extra coin for the replica aspect of it.
Whatever, the bike currently matches my kit - being blue, green, and black.
Because it matches my current kit, the bike also matches various other things - my Zenith blue rimmed wheels and, um, well, that's it.
In Florida Mandy pointed out one day, on a miserable rainy ride, that I "matched". My blue tires, blue wheels, blue and green kit (including arm warmers, a wind vest, LS jersey, bib knickers, and a Kelme cap that echoed the colors nicely), all against a grey/black background (the frame, components, and winter stuff like booties and gloves). I'm proud to say that I'll be continuing this obsessive compulsive matching thing.
Although for now I'll be using the Zeniths, I have my view on aero wheels and why one should train on them all the time. I have my eye on some Williams Cycling wheels and if I can sell off some of my other wheelsets, I'll be getting a set of those for my bike. Ultimately they'd be used for everything from easy recovery days to "racing training" rides - group rides which will substitute for races on appropriate training days.
Having such wheels also makes it so much easier to go scampering after various vehicular traffic going about 35-45 mph.
But I digress.
I wouldn't be thinking along these lines if my 2008 season was going to mirror my 2007 - train a bit until the end of February, then ride about 1300 miles from then through the beginning of November.
Such training can't justify new aero wheels for training.
I think a normal Cat 3 would have blown my March-November mileage out of the water in four or five weeks, not the eight or nine months it took me to register those hard earned klicks. For me, 2007 had a lot of major distractions - prep the house for sale (refinish floors, clean out house, do extensive yard prep, unclutter house into a PODS), sell said house, move, prep for a wedding while searching for a house, get married, and go on a honeymoon. This on top of the normal race promotion exhaustion in March and April which overlapped a new tax workload on the then-future-missus.
Lots of stuff in 10 months.
Admittedly the wedding and honeymoon weren't painful in any way - in fact, I'd recommend it for those in long, steady relationships - but from a cycling point of view the two events simply served to prolong the pause before returning to any sort of serious cycling.
We got back, kept looking for houses, and then the weather turned cold.
I managed to get my fun car into shelter for the upcoming winter months this last Saturday, another use of a day that might have been, in a different life, a good day for a group ride.
The aforementioned project took almost five hours out of our last Sunday - another potential group ride out the window. I did see a three rider "pack" twiddle past me on a big climb - does that count as a bit of cathartic training?
In between those two days last weekend, on the drive back from tucking in the fun car for the winter, the missus made a somewhat startling statement.
"I think you should race all the races next year. Get the schedule and sign up for them. And we'll go to the races on those weekends."
I must have been a bit speechless as such carte blanche is rarely granted. I focused on staying on the road.
"Plus, I like watching you race."
I guess that's one of the many reasons why she's the missus.
So it's time to get my act into gear.
Friday, November 09, 2007
How To - Sponsorship
Winter, at least in the snow belt, brings a whole new world of cycling to the forefront. Cyclocross. Jackets and tights. Face masks. Studded tires.
And the eternal search for sponsorship.
Now is the time for wrapping up sponsorship requests - you know, the calls and emails and meetings with various businesses or their representatives to get some schwag for the team for next year. Or, if you've landed a nice one, some cold, hard cash. Unless you're a pro team (and even then perhaps you may be spiraling into oblivion) you're probably in the same boat a lot of other non-pro, strictly for-fun teams regarding sponsorship.
The biggest question is "How do I get some?"
As someone who's been there, I have some suggestions. I've asked sponsors for money, negotiated with shop reps, essentially restarted and ran a collegiate team, managed a shop that had a team (and ran the team), owned a shop that had a team (and ran the team), and now have a tiny team that has no shop (and virtually no sponsorship at this moment). I've also asked for stuff for a race series I've promoted for 15 years as well as miscellaneous individual races or events. All this experience has taught me a little bit about sponsorship and cycling.
For the non-pro, there are two kinds of sponsors - those that don't know you personally and those that do.
Sponsors you don't know want to make money on the money they give you. Some of their sponsorship benefits are not measurable. For example, how do you measure getting the name out for a local restaurant? Other sponsorship items allow them to measure their return on their investment on you. Such things include coupons for that same restaurant (with an ID code that identifies the team) or unique phone numbers for ads relating to your team. Remember one thing about sponsors that don't know you - they are a business, not a charity! Keep that in mind whenever you deal with them.
Sponsors who know you are giving you stuff because they don't have the heart to say no. It's like asking for $20 from a friend. Not quite as easy as asking your parents for money but still easier than convincing a stranger to open their wallet to you.
Sometimes people you know get caught up in giving you sponsorship. The company I work for has two partners. Over a few lunches they asked me about my races and my racing. I showed them pictures - the races, the leaders' jerseys, my bike. They got to see the jerseys and bike firsthand since I had the jerseys shipped to the office and I regularly brought my bike in (and they'd see me riding in the evening). They queried me on the leader's jersey.
I explained to them that we give away a leader's jersey to the overall winner of the Series. This makes the overall fight very fierce because only a few such jerseys are handed out each year. I told them that they usually end up framed in a shop or in someone's house (or tossed into a drawer but I didn't want to say that). They promptly asked if they could be on the jersey for the Series going on right now - I told them I'd want to do that but it'd have to wait till next year.
Ultimately they gave me thousands of dollars (cash!) over a few years to be on the jersey. And I never asked them for anything. We used the money to redesign the jersey. We hired the guy that did the Saeco team jerseys, Spinergy, Sobe, etc, and we used the rest of the money to pay various permit fees and race costs (portapotties etc). In return we linked to their site from the race site - and we're the biggest source for hits on their website so they think giving us money was great.
Anyway, think of the following:
1. If you ask someone you don't know for money, you need to be able to show them some kind of return. If I had a business and had a choice between, say, buying $100 worth of roast beef for deli sandwiches for tomorrow's lunchtime rush and giving $100 to a bike club, guess which one I'd buy? As a business I'd think about which one makes me more money, balancing out long term gains versus short term ones. If my deli was brand new, it might be worth it to have 20 racers zipping around town with my name on their backs. If I have an established deli, such publicity isn't necessary - but perhaps giving some money plus handing out sandwich coupons might be worth investigating.
2. Make sure you don't get too much negative publicity for your sponsor. I guess the Festina doping thing was okay (as was Phonak), at least for those businesses, but they're international companies getting international coverage. After all, Festina gets free publicity whenever someone talks about the "Festina affair" - and that was almost ten years ago! However, at a local level, such stunts typically backfire. If you get yelled at or honked at regularly locally, no one's going to want to be associated with you. One shop's team (since disbanded) got banned from riding in a town after they flipped off the Chief of Police (he was in an unmarked car). Good for business? No way. Make it clear to the sponsor that this will not be the case with your team.
This makes the sponsorship hunt seem pretty negative, right? I mean how does a team earn money for its sponsors? You're not out there waiting tables or having tag sales or anything.
There's hope yet - hang in there, it's like being the tail gunner in the field, 10 laps into a 50 lap race. Things get a touch better from here on in.
Cash is precious - it's unusual to get cash. But you can get a lot of what you want or need to race from sponsors through equipment and discounts. And if you pay even scant attention to your race budget, you know that virtually all your money goes into equipment. Cycling related companies want to be the first name on these "serious" riders' lips when their non-cycling friends and family ask about bikes so they're willing to give some to get some.
1. Bike shops. Approach your local shop and ask for a discount in return for the name on the jersey (maybe they pay for the artwork on the jersey, perhaps if they really like the jersey they can sell them in the shop). You want to get the riders used to going there, recommending others to go there, etc. Choose a shop you like if you're in a town with a lot of bike shops.
2. Once you have an in at the shop, ask them to ask their vendors for deals. Virtually all big manufacturers have some kind of "club deal". You order 10 or 20 of whatever (frames, helmets, shoes, shorts, pumps, pairs of tires, etc etc), you get them in matching colors, and you get a serious break on price. One helmet manufacturer sold $150 or so retail helmets for $40 to the shop for its team - that's more than half off wholesale. This doesn't mean anything is free but it's still a good deal and helps make you a "team", attracting other sponsors with your "professional appearance". Usually the deal is the team pays up front, the shop pays upfront, you get an early batch, and you're all set. As a team make the process as painless as possible - have your matrix of sizes clear and ready so the shop simply faxes or hands the matrix out to the vendor (or, more probably, to the vendor's rep).
3. Bikes are virtually never on the amateur sponsor list, at least for free. You might get a deal on a mass purchase though (see #2 above). A domestic pro team I know of gets "free" bikes - but the rider has to return his three bikes or pay for them at the end of the year. A pro/1 women's team around here had no bike sponsorship - they all ride their own bikes. Framesets maybe - again, a discount on frames pre-ordered for the team, but you go through the shop.
For the regular racers out there, the ones that don't race full time, the idea is the manufacturer wants to get the shop involved so you go and patronize the shop (and the shop buys more of the manufacturer's bikes and so on). This means you don't say to the shop, "Dude that's a ripoff - I can get it cheaper on eBay!". What the shop doesn't need is to have the beggars they're helping get mad at them. Not worth the trouble to essentially give money to someone to have them yell at you. Maybe it'll fly in one of those dominatrix houses, but it won't fly in a bike shop.
4. Energy bar/drink/gel etc - the local reps usually have some freebie budget - usually for sample sizes and such. They'll really give you a lot of stuff if you hold a race. We got a 2000 pound pallet of drink mixes from an energy food manufacturer for a 6 week series of races - 2000 pounds! That's a freaking lot of stuff. The truck driver used a forklift! That's serious! Even with 300-450 racers a week we couldn't give it all away. We gave away boxes of the stuff at every race, gave them away at registration, gave bunches to the ones we term "good guys" - influential racers in the community, and used it personally for the year the stuff was still unexpired. Think of other opportunities - new sodas or drinks, new bars, etc.
5. Hold a race. This last item is important. If you can hold a race and keep costs under control, you can make money for the team's budget. Basically you get other people to come and pay to race, and don't give all of the money away. You'll make some cash money. However, races rarely make money when they start off - but you can use the race as a vehicle to ask for sponsorship. If you have a nice picture of the start/finish (or a sprint or something) with some sponsor opportunities, you can ask around for some sponsors to fill that gap. For example, if you don't have a start finish banner, you can ask for sponsorship in exchange for the sponsor's name on a new banner (and perhaps renaming the race - like the Tour de Trump becoming the Tour du Pont). Every year set aside anything you can get to start off next year's race, team, and whatnot. Buy a loudspeaker or a registration tent or something you needed to borrow this year to make the race happen. In 5 or 6 years the team will own all the stuff it needs to hold a race and hundreds of eager racers will stream to your course every year to pay the team money and race on the course. It's hard work holding a race, more than you'd ever think. The payoff? The sense of accomplishment is tremendous.
By the way, this leads to a pet peeve of mine (as a long time promoter).
I have a rule about people who complain at races - only those who have promoted or helped promote a race before can complain. Everyone else should hold their own race first, figure out a way to address their own complaint, and then suggest their solution to the promoter that doesn't do it. If you go to a race and start to open your mouth to complain, stop, think about what doesn't seem right, then figure out how to address it when you promote your own race.
After you promote your race? Go back and complain your head off - you totally have the right.
By the way, if you watch race promoters at other races? They virtually never complain. Maybe a suggestion or an idea, but they never complain. There's a reason why that's the case.
Back on topic, whatever you do for sponsorship, don't expect something for nothing. If you sour any relationship (with the shop, a manufacturer, local sponsors, promoters, school, whoever) you're screwing not only yourself but many years of future cycling club members as well.
The first venture in race promoting I witnessed occurred in the town I lived in until I was five years old. I have an emotional connection to the town and when my team decided to hold a road race there, I was ecstatic. I trained for it and hoped my home town advantage would propel me up the biggest climb, a 0.8 mile drag up a wide road, no protection from the wind.
One of the nation's top woman racers showed up (and destroyed the field) and we had a fantastic Cat 2-3 race. Unfortunately someone in the town's organization had left the Chief of Police out of the loop. He watched the race and commented "I ought to pull every one of those guys over for not riding in single file."
You want to guess how many races we held there in the next 24 years?
Zip. Nada. Zero. The big donut (or "the bagel" as my math teacher once told me, and yes, it was my exam he was talking about).
Sponsorship is a delicate thing because most small businesses (the ones you're going to approach) don't budget for such "marketing". The bike companies do budget for this so it's easier to approach them for discounted gear.
Keep in mind that November is about as late in the year as you want to start as far as a sponsorship hunt goes. By January the money is gone. Call your local shops now (or better yet, talk to the owner/s after you buy a winter jacket or a pump or booties or something).
And good luck with your team.
And the eternal search for sponsorship.
Now is the time for wrapping up sponsorship requests - you know, the calls and emails and meetings with various businesses or their representatives to get some schwag for the team for next year. Or, if you've landed a nice one, some cold, hard cash. Unless you're a pro team (and even then perhaps you may be spiraling into oblivion) you're probably in the same boat a lot of other non-pro, strictly for-fun teams regarding sponsorship.
The biggest question is "How do I get some?"
As someone who's been there, I have some suggestions. I've asked sponsors for money, negotiated with shop reps, essentially restarted and ran a collegiate team, managed a shop that had a team (and ran the team), owned a shop that had a team (and ran the team), and now have a tiny team that has no shop (and virtually no sponsorship at this moment). I've also asked for stuff for a race series I've promoted for 15 years as well as miscellaneous individual races or events. All this experience has taught me a little bit about sponsorship and cycling.
For the non-pro, there are two kinds of sponsors - those that don't know you personally and those that do.
Sponsors you don't know want to make money on the money they give you. Some of their sponsorship benefits are not measurable. For example, how do you measure getting the name out for a local restaurant? Other sponsorship items allow them to measure their return on their investment on you. Such things include coupons for that same restaurant (with an ID code that identifies the team) or unique phone numbers for ads relating to your team. Remember one thing about sponsors that don't know you - they are a business, not a charity! Keep that in mind whenever you deal with them.
Sponsors who know you are giving you stuff because they don't have the heart to say no. It's like asking for $20 from a friend. Not quite as easy as asking your parents for money but still easier than convincing a stranger to open their wallet to you.
Sometimes people you know get caught up in giving you sponsorship. The company I work for has two partners. Over a few lunches they asked me about my races and my racing. I showed them pictures - the races, the leaders' jerseys, my bike. They got to see the jerseys and bike firsthand since I had the jerseys shipped to the office and I regularly brought my bike in (and they'd see me riding in the evening). They queried me on the leader's jersey.
I explained to them that we give away a leader's jersey to the overall winner of the Series. This makes the overall fight very fierce because only a few such jerseys are handed out each year. I told them that they usually end up framed in a shop or in someone's house (or tossed into a drawer but I didn't want to say that). They promptly asked if they could be on the jersey for the Series going on right now - I told them I'd want to do that but it'd have to wait till next year.
Ultimately they gave me thousands of dollars (cash!) over a few years to be on the jersey. And I never asked them for anything. We used the money to redesign the jersey. We hired the guy that did the Saeco team jerseys, Spinergy, Sobe, etc, and we used the rest of the money to pay various permit fees and race costs (portapotties etc). In return we linked to their site from the race site - and we're the biggest source for hits on their website so they think giving us money was great.
Anyway, think of the following:
1. If you ask someone you don't know for money, you need to be able to show them some kind of return. If I had a business and had a choice between, say, buying $100 worth of roast beef for deli sandwiches for tomorrow's lunchtime rush and giving $100 to a bike club, guess which one I'd buy? As a business I'd think about which one makes me more money, balancing out long term gains versus short term ones. If my deli was brand new, it might be worth it to have 20 racers zipping around town with my name on their backs. If I have an established deli, such publicity isn't necessary - but perhaps giving some money plus handing out sandwich coupons might be worth investigating.
2. Make sure you don't get too much negative publicity for your sponsor. I guess the Festina doping thing was okay (as was Phonak), at least for those businesses, but they're international companies getting international coverage. After all, Festina gets free publicity whenever someone talks about the "Festina affair" - and that was almost ten years ago! However, at a local level, such stunts typically backfire. If you get yelled at or honked at regularly locally, no one's going to want to be associated with you. One shop's team (since disbanded) got banned from riding in a town after they flipped off the Chief of Police (he was in an unmarked car). Good for business? No way. Make it clear to the sponsor that this will not be the case with your team.
This makes the sponsorship hunt seem pretty negative, right? I mean how does a team earn money for its sponsors? You're not out there waiting tables or having tag sales or anything.
There's hope yet - hang in there, it's like being the tail gunner in the field, 10 laps into a 50 lap race. Things get a touch better from here on in.
Cash is precious - it's unusual to get cash. But you can get a lot of what you want or need to race from sponsors through equipment and discounts. And if you pay even scant attention to your race budget, you know that virtually all your money goes into equipment. Cycling related companies want to be the first name on these "serious" riders' lips when their non-cycling friends and family ask about bikes so they're willing to give some to get some.
1. Bike shops. Approach your local shop and ask for a discount in return for the name on the jersey (maybe they pay for the artwork on the jersey, perhaps if they really like the jersey they can sell them in the shop). You want to get the riders used to going there, recommending others to go there, etc. Choose a shop you like if you're in a town with a lot of bike shops.
2. Once you have an in at the shop, ask them to ask their vendors for deals. Virtually all big manufacturers have some kind of "club deal". You order 10 or 20 of whatever (frames, helmets, shoes, shorts, pumps, pairs of tires, etc etc), you get them in matching colors, and you get a serious break on price. One helmet manufacturer sold $150 or so retail helmets for $40 to the shop for its team - that's more than half off wholesale. This doesn't mean anything is free but it's still a good deal and helps make you a "team", attracting other sponsors with your "professional appearance". Usually the deal is the team pays up front, the shop pays upfront, you get an early batch, and you're all set. As a team make the process as painless as possible - have your matrix of sizes clear and ready so the shop simply faxes or hands the matrix out to the vendor (or, more probably, to the vendor's rep).
3. Bikes are virtually never on the amateur sponsor list, at least for free. You might get a deal on a mass purchase though (see #2 above). A domestic pro team I know of gets "free" bikes - but the rider has to return his three bikes or pay for them at the end of the year. A pro/1 women's team around here had no bike sponsorship - they all ride their own bikes. Framesets maybe - again, a discount on frames pre-ordered for the team, but you go through the shop.
For the regular racers out there, the ones that don't race full time, the idea is the manufacturer wants to get the shop involved so you go and patronize the shop (and the shop buys more of the manufacturer's bikes and so on). This means you don't say to the shop, "Dude that's a ripoff - I can get it cheaper on eBay!". What the shop doesn't need is to have the beggars they're helping get mad at them. Not worth the trouble to essentially give money to someone to have them yell at you. Maybe it'll fly in one of those dominatrix houses, but it won't fly in a bike shop.
4. Energy bar/drink/gel etc - the local reps usually have some freebie budget - usually for sample sizes and such. They'll really give you a lot of stuff if you hold a race. We got a 2000 pound pallet of drink mixes from an energy food manufacturer for a 6 week series of races - 2000 pounds! That's a freaking lot of stuff. The truck driver used a forklift! That's serious! Even with 300-450 racers a week we couldn't give it all away. We gave away boxes of the stuff at every race, gave them away at registration, gave bunches to the ones we term "good guys" - influential racers in the community, and used it personally for the year the stuff was still unexpired. Think of other opportunities - new sodas or drinks, new bars, etc.
5. Hold a race. This last item is important. If you can hold a race and keep costs under control, you can make money for the team's budget. Basically you get other people to come and pay to race, and don't give all of the money away. You'll make some cash money. However, races rarely make money when they start off - but you can use the race as a vehicle to ask for sponsorship. If you have a nice picture of the start/finish (or a sprint or something) with some sponsor opportunities, you can ask around for some sponsors to fill that gap. For example, if you don't have a start finish banner, you can ask for sponsorship in exchange for the sponsor's name on a new banner (and perhaps renaming the race - like the Tour de Trump becoming the Tour du Pont). Every year set aside anything you can get to start off next year's race, team, and whatnot. Buy a loudspeaker or a registration tent or something you needed to borrow this year to make the race happen. In 5 or 6 years the team will own all the stuff it needs to hold a race and hundreds of eager racers will stream to your course every year to pay the team money and race on the course. It's hard work holding a race, more than you'd ever think. The payoff? The sense of accomplishment is tremendous.
By the way, this leads to a pet peeve of mine (as a long time promoter).
I have a rule about people who complain at races - only those who have promoted or helped promote a race before can complain. Everyone else should hold their own race first, figure out a way to address their own complaint, and then suggest their solution to the promoter that doesn't do it. If you go to a race and start to open your mouth to complain, stop, think about what doesn't seem right, then figure out how to address it when you promote your own race.
After you promote your race? Go back and complain your head off - you totally have the right.
By the way, if you watch race promoters at other races? They virtually never complain. Maybe a suggestion or an idea, but they never complain. There's a reason why that's the case.
Back on topic, whatever you do for sponsorship, don't expect something for nothing. If you sour any relationship (with the shop, a manufacturer, local sponsors, promoters, school, whoever) you're screwing not only yourself but many years of future cycling club members as well.
The first venture in race promoting I witnessed occurred in the town I lived in until I was five years old. I have an emotional connection to the town and when my team decided to hold a road race there, I was ecstatic. I trained for it and hoped my home town advantage would propel me up the biggest climb, a 0.8 mile drag up a wide road, no protection from the wind.
One of the nation's top woman racers showed up (and destroyed the field) and we had a fantastic Cat 2-3 race. Unfortunately someone in the town's organization had left the Chief of Police out of the loop. He watched the race and commented "I ought to pull every one of those guys over for not riding in single file."
You want to guess how many races we held there in the next 24 years?
Zip. Nada. Zero. The big donut (or "the bagel" as my math teacher once told me, and yes, it was my exam he was talking about).
Sponsorship is a delicate thing because most small businesses (the ones you're going to approach) don't budget for such "marketing". The bike companies do budget for this so it's easier to approach them for discounted gear.
Keep in mind that November is about as late in the year as you want to start as far as a sponsorship hunt goes. By January the money is gone. Call your local shops now (or better yet, talk to the owner/s after you buy a winter jacket or a pump or booties or something).
And good luck with your team.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
How To - Fitting a Bike in This Day and Age
It used to be that a serious road rider would have to go to a local shop to be fitted by the master ex-pro/racer. The guy would put you on a bike, put on different stems, wrench your foot here and there, push down on your forearms and back, and lift your chin. He'd grumble and measure and write, squeeze your calf, look at you suspiciously, and then grumble some more. Then he'd declare that he's fit you and you should come back in 8 weeks for your custom bike.
Okay so that's sort of mythical.
25 years ago it was a little less mythical, a little more awkward. One guy holds the bike up. Another guy does some stuff like ask you if you can see the hub or is the handlebar blocking the way. They eyeball your seat height, moving the seat up and down in somewhat random amounts, trying to hit "that spot". They have you pedal backwards (because you certainly can't pedal forwards while the bike is being held). After a few revolutions they drop a line from your knee which should bisect the pedal axle. They fiddle with the stem, putting different stems on the same bars (Cinelli 66 for big guys, 64 for smaller guys, 65 for guys who look like they should be playing football) and figure out which of the stems fit you best. The wrote all the numbers down and then you were done.
That's when Cyril Guimard, Greg LeMond, Bernard Hinault, and some other people (Bill Farrell, I think, who invented the FitKit) came into the picture. All of a sudden a fit included actually measuring someone (!). Inseam, torso, arm, shoulder, quad length, things like that. The FitKit was great because it included excellent tools for measuring, even if you didn't subscribe to their numbers. Fit became getting a good measurement and multiplying it by some ratio to get seat height or perhaps looking at a chart to get top tube and stem length.
A bonus was that by this time stationary trainers were common and the rider being fitted could pedal forward to "settle into his position". This made for more accurate fits as the rider wasn't perched abnormally forward or back on the seat.
The FitKit got upstaged by more sophisticated measuring devices - like the Serotta FitCycle, a totally adjustable stationary bike on which a "fitter" could adjust the different key dimensions (seat tube, top tube, stem, crank length) with virtual impunity. Typically the fitter would use the position derived from the various ratios as a base, adjusting for individual preferences and limitations.
This is all good for brick and mortar stores. Nowadays though many people buy their bikes online. How should they be fit? The question came up and I came up with some recommendations.
Ultimately, you are looking to get position the contact points correctly, with the pedals (really the bottom bracket) as the base. The contact points are the two pedals, the seat, and the bars (two hands usually). The contact points are determined in that order - that is critical. So critical that I'll put them in a list.
1. First figure out where the seat will go in relation to the cranks.
2. Second figure out where the bars will go in relation to the seat.
You should never, ever move the seat in order to adjust the distance to the bars. You always adjust the bars. If you can't, you have the wrong frame and need to start over again.
Since an improper fit might lead you to buying the wrong frame, I would definitely get your first "serious" bike fit at a shop that knows what it's doing. I don't have any recommendations on how to tell if they're good or not but personally I'd use the "gut instinct" method. Are they fit? Nice? Do they ride? Do they have a team? A local shop here is owned by a former pro and his (ex-)World Champion wife. They'll have experienced a lot and will know how to fit you, even if you have a bum knee or some other issue. My gut instinct told me that shop was good.
On the other hand, I've been to shops where my alarm bells started ringing as soon as someone opened their mouth. I rode to (and into) a huge, and I mean huge shop in California. Bikes were dripping down from the rafters, there were two open floors, and the floor was just a sea of road bikes. Impressive, even just at an inventory level. I figured I just walked into bike heaven.
Then one guy asked me if I race track. Track? He pointed at my criterium bend bars.
"Well aren't those track bars?"
I would NOT get fitted in a place like that. Luckily I was there to buy a frame pump.
As someone who's fit hundreds of cyclists, am very particular about my fit, and whose frames tend to be ordered sight unseen, I look for the following when checking frame fit on a sight-unseen frame:
1. Seat tube height - leg length related, simple. This can vary by a lot due to different types of frames. Ultimately you should choose your size on other factors - the only thing I'd worry about with seat tube height is "Can you straddle the frame without getting (as my mom used to say about the cats) neutralized?" I have frames that measure 44 cm center to center and 52 center to top. They all fit me correctly due to the next two measurements.
2. Top tube length, horizontal/virtual - this relates to your torso and arm length. It's affected by your cycling fluency - a more experienced or performance oriented rider will want a longer setup. A newer or less experienced rider will want shorter overall length. This is due to lower back strength, glute strength, and comfort sitting on a saddle. You should strive to keep the stem length away from the extremes (i.e. length) unless you are extremely experienced. In other words, if you're not really sure about your fit, you haven't been riding too long, and the only way a bike will fit you is if you put on a very long 14 cm stem, you probably need to go to the next size up. That size up will have a longer top tube.
3. Head tube length (height) - this is CRITICAL for proper bar height. I cannot say how important this is. It used to be a given with level top tube frames because the head tube always ended at same level as the top of the seat tube. With such a set up, for experienced riders you slam the stem down, for less experienced you raise it a bit. This has changed with the non-level top tube bike designs - the seat tube no longer determines the headtube length. The head tube can vary by 3 or 4 cm for a given seat tube size.
You can get a bike that has the right seat tube and top tube and the bars might be 2 or 3 cm too high or low, and without a radical stem it won't fit you. A shorter headtube is good for those more experienced/performance-oriented riders. A longer headtube is geared for less experienced or more comfort oriented riders. A good example is the difference between Giant's TCR (performance) line and their OCR (recreational) line. The OCR frames have longer headtubes for a given size but they are otherwise virtually identical.
The above three dimensions are critical when selecting a frame. To a lessor extent, I check the following when checking if a frame fits me:
1. Seat tube angle - based solely on quad length, but unless the angle is extreme (less than 72, more than 75), it's probably going to be fine. This is due to various seatposts which have or don't have setback, a measurement of how far behind the centerline of the seat tube the post holds the saddle.
2. Stand over height - make sure you can get off the bike without squealing.
Once you get the bike, you'll install the following parts. Based on your previous fit knowledge, you'll probably have the proper lengths already:
1. Stem - this adjusts the overall length of the bike for you. A newer rider should aim towards frames which use shorter stems - this way they can use longer stems as their body acclimates to cycling. An experienced rider will probably be using a 12-14cm stem, perhaps a 10cm for a shorter torso rider. This is because the experienced rider will not be making position changes as their body adjusts to cycling - all that's been done already.
2. Crank length - this is based on riding style/preferences but a longer/shorter crank will move your seat forward/backward and down/up respectively. 5mm is 5mm. It'll be unusual to need to change frames for this but realize it's a factor. Probably stem or bar changes will suffice.
3. Bar width, drop, and reach - all affect the overall length of the bike. I rarely change bars (I have the same bar on my bikes) but if you're getting a snazzy carbon bar, make sure it doesn't throw off your length too much. More width increases length slightly. Drop can be corrected using a stem (unless the adjustment is out of range). Reach is critical since a 2 cm longer reach will mean you need a 2 cm shorter top-tube/stem combo if you want to maintain the same position in the drops, a significant difference when selecting a frame. On the other hand, if you end up with a frame that's not quite right, a radical bar change can make a big difference towards correcting fit.
The following have absolutely nothing to do with fit but everything to do with how the bike handles, a totally different topic. If a shop claims these factors are involved in fitting the bike, nod your head politely, look at your watch, and say, "Hey, I just realized I have to go to the hospital for emergency surgery! Bye!" These factors simply help determine the bike's riding style.
1. Head tube angle - a 73 or so will give you a responsive bike that is still stable. A shorter bike (under 52 cm or equivalent size) will be very shallow to give the rider's foot more room to clear the front wheel. The bike will handle correspondingly slower. No way around it.
2. Chainstay length - shorter keeps more weight on the rear when standing. Longer is softer/comfy. If you're looking to do very aggressive riding, look for a short stay. 40.5 cm seems to be the "short stay" measurement for now - it gives some tire clearance and allows you to make big efforts out of the saddle without having the rear wheel skip around too much.
3. Wheelbase - reflects the above two factors, but basically a shorter one is more agile. A long one is better for comfort. Pros typically use 1 cm longer wheelbase bikes in Paris Roubaix, the cobbled and very bumpy classic in France. Most if not all of the wheelbase difference is made in the chainstay. This way the front end of the bike (where it's all fit to the racer) doesn't change.
A good fit will recommend:
1. An overall seat height (measured from the sole of the shoe to the top of the saddle). This means the following affect it: pedals, shoes, crank length, frame size, and saddle. This is virtually unaffected by anything out there - only individual preferences and physical disabilities factor in here.
2. An overall length - seat to bar, depends on how detailed they get. The bike is adjusted by using the saddle, top tube of frame, stem, bar, and height/angle of stem. The rider's experience level and riding goals affect the recommended length.
3. Crank arm length - I've decided this really depends on riding style and has virtually nothing to do with leg length. However a fitter may recommend a crank arm length to you. I'd keep an open mind on this topic.
4. Bar width - easy enough - about the width of your shoulders - but affected by riding style.
Based on the numbers and questions about your riding, the fitter will probably make some recommendations on bike and equipment.
Remember you only contact the bike in five spots - bars (twice), pedals (twice), and saddle. As long as those spots are in the right place, you can have anything between them, within reason. Once you know where those five points are, your job (and whoever else - LBS etc) is to figure out a way to connect the points in a logical and efficient way.
There is one more factor when choosing a frame. It has to do with bar to seat height - the vertical drop from the saddle to the bars. With virtual top tubes, it's hard to tell what's right.
Dave Moulton (frame builder) has an interesting chart on his blog relating to this (and associated commentary):
http://davesbikeblog.blogspot.com/20...ebar-drop.html
His numbers seem pretty good. I have a 53.5 + 13 top tube (66.5 cm total) and his chart says about 8.1 cm drop. My primary Giant has about a 5 or 6 cm drop to the top of the bars, and I'm setting up the Cannondale with perhaps another 1-2 cm of drop. His numbers seem to be aggressive but pretty close.
I have shallow drop bars so the delta between the two positions is less than with a deep drop bar. This means riding the tops is still pretty low but the drops don't put me that much lower. I could get deeper drop bars to get a lower low position but my lack of fitness (i.e. my stomach) gets in the way. For now I'll have to lose weight and have a relatively high position.
If you have a lot of doubts, buying an adjustable stem helps a lot. My stem is a Ritchey 12cm adjustable and it's a great tool for experimenting with bar height. I think they're $60 from Excel.
Add seat to bar height in the list of things a good fit provides (it would be #5).
Okay so that's sort of mythical.
25 years ago it was a little less mythical, a little more awkward. One guy holds the bike up. Another guy does some stuff like ask you if you can see the hub or is the handlebar blocking the way. They eyeball your seat height, moving the seat up and down in somewhat random amounts, trying to hit "that spot". They have you pedal backwards (because you certainly can't pedal forwards while the bike is being held). After a few revolutions they drop a line from your knee which should bisect the pedal axle. They fiddle with the stem, putting different stems on the same bars (Cinelli 66 for big guys, 64 for smaller guys, 65 for guys who look like they should be playing football) and figure out which of the stems fit you best. The wrote all the numbers down and then you were done.
That's when Cyril Guimard, Greg LeMond, Bernard Hinault, and some other people (Bill Farrell, I think, who invented the FitKit) came into the picture. All of a sudden a fit included actually measuring someone (!). Inseam, torso, arm, shoulder, quad length, things like that. The FitKit was great because it included excellent tools for measuring, even if you didn't subscribe to their numbers. Fit became getting a good measurement and multiplying it by some ratio to get seat height or perhaps looking at a chart to get top tube and stem length.
A bonus was that by this time stationary trainers were common and the rider being fitted could pedal forward to "settle into his position". This made for more accurate fits as the rider wasn't perched abnormally forward or back on the seat.
The FitKit got upstaged by more sophisticated measuring devices - like the Serotta FitCycle, a totally adjustable stationary bike on which a "fitter" could adjust the different key dimensions (seat tube, top tube, stem, crank length) with virtual impunity. Typically the fitter would use the position derived from the various ratios as a base, adjusting for individual preferences and limitations.
This is all good for brick and mortar stores. Nowadays though many people buy their bikes online. How should they be fit? The question came up and I came up with some recommendations.
Ultimately, you are looking to get position the contact points correctly, with the pedals (really the bottom bracket) as the base. The contact points are the two pedals, the seat, and the bars (two hands usually). The contact points are determined in that order - that is critical. So critical that I'll put them in a list.
1. First figure out where the seat will go in relation to the cranks.
2. Second figure out where the bars will go in relation to the seat.
You should never, ever move the seat in order to adjust the distance to the bars. You always adjust the bars. If you can't, you have the wrong frame and need to start over again.
Since an improper fit might lead you to buying the wrong frame, I would definitely get your first "serious" bike fit at a shop that knows what it's doing. I don't have any recommendations on how to tell if they're good or not but personally I'd use the "gut instinct" method. Are they fit? Nice? Do they ride? Do they have a team? A local shop here is owned by a former pro and his (ex-)World Champion wife. They'll have experienced a lot and will know how to fit you, even if you have a bum knee or some other issue. My gut instinct told me that shop was good.
On the other hand, I've been to shops where my alarm bells started ringing as soon as someone opened their mouth. I rode to (and into) a huge, and I mean huge shop in California. Bikes were dripping down from the rafters, there were two open floors, and the floor was just a sea of road bikes. Impressive, even just at an inventory level. I figured I just walked into bike heaven.
Then one guy asked me if I race track. Track? He pointed at my criterium bend bars.
"Well aren't those track bars?"
I would NOT get fitted in a place like that. Luckily I was there to buy a frame pump.
As someone who's fit hundreds of cyclists, am very particular about my fit, and whose frames tend to be ordered sight unseen, I look for the following when checking frame fit on a sight-unseen frame:
1. Seat tube height - leg length related, simple. This can vary by a lot due to different types of frames. Ultimately you should choose your size on other factors - the only thing I'd worry about with seat tube height is "Can you straddle the frame without getting (as my mom used to say about the cats) neutralized?" I have frames that measure 44 cm center to center and 52 center to top. They all fit me correctly due to the next two measurements.
2. Top tube length, horizontal/virtual - this relates to your torso and arm length. It's affected by your cycling fluency - a more experienced or performance oriented rider will want a longer setup. A newer or less experienced rider will want shorter overall length. This is due to lower back strength, glute strength, and comfort sitting on a saddle. You should strive to keep the stem length away from the extremes (i.e. length) unless you are extremely experienced. In other words, if you're not really sure about your fit, you haven't been riding too long, and the only way a bike will fit you is if you put on a very long 14 cm stem, you probably need to go to the next size up. That size up will have a longer top tube.
3. Head tube length (height) - this is CRITICAL for proper bar height. I cannot say how important this is. It used to be a given with level top tube frames because the head tube always ended at same level as the top of the seat tube. With such a set up, for experienced riders you slam the stem down, for less experienced you raise it a bit. This has changed with the non-level top tube bike designs - the seat tube no longer determines the headtube length. The head tube can vary by 3 or 4 cm for a given seat tube size.
You can get a bike that has the right seat tube and top tube and the bars might be 2 or 3 cm too high or low, and without a radical stem it won't fit you. A shorter headtube is good for those more experienced/performance-oriented riders. A longer headtube is geared for less experienced or more comfort oriented riders. A good example is the difference between Giant's TCR (performance) line and their OCR (recreational) line. The OCR frames have longer headtubes for a given size but they are otherwise virtually identical.
The above three dimensions are critical when selecting a frame. To a lessor extent, I check the following when checking if a frame fits me:
1. Seat tube angle - based solely on quad length, but unless the angle is extreme (less than 72, more than 75), it's probably going to be fine. This is due to various seatposts which have or don't have setback, a measurement of how far behind the centerline of the seat tube the post holds the saddle.
2. Stand over height - make sure you can get off the bike without squealing.
Once you get the bike, you'll install the following parts. Based on your previous fit knowledge, you'll probably have the proper lengths already:
1. Stem - this adjusts the overall length of the bike for you. A newer rider should aim towards frames which use shorter stems - this way they can use longer stems as their body acclimates to cycling. An experienced rider will probably be using a 12-14cm stem, perhaps a 10cm for a shorter torso rider. This is because the experienced rider will not be making position changes as their body adjusts to cycling - all that's been done already.
2. Crank length - this is based on riding style/preferences but a longer/shorter crank will move your seat forward/backward and down/up respectively. 5mm is 5mm. It'll be unusual to need to change frames for this but realize it's a factor. Probably stem or bar changes will suffice.
3. Bar width, drop, and reach - all affect the overall length of the bike. I rarely change bars (I have the same bar on my bikes) but if you're getting a snazzy carbon bar, make sure it doesn't throw off your length too much. More width increases length slightly. Drop can be corrected using a stem (unless the adjustment is out of range). Reach is critical since a 2 cm longer reach will mean you need a 2 cm shorter top-tube/stem combo if you want to maintain the same position in the drops, a significant difference when selecting a frame. On the other hand, if you end up with a frame that's not quite right, a radical bar change can make a big difference towards correcting fit.
The following have absolutely nothing to do with fit but everything to do with how the bike handles, a totally different topic. If a shop claims these factors are involved in fitting the bike, nod your head politely, look at your watch, and say, "Hey, I just realized I have to go to the hospital for emergency surgery! Bye!" These factors simply help determine the bike's riding style.
1. Head tube angle - a 73 or so will give you a responsive bike that is still stable. A shorter bike (under 52 cm or equivalent size) will be very shallow to give the rider's foot more room to clear the front wheel. The bike will handle correspondingly slower. No way around it.
2. Chainstay length - shorter keeps more weight on the rear when standing. Longer is softer/comfy. If you're looking to do very aggressive riding, look for a short stay. 40.5 cm seems to be the "short stay" measurement for now - it gives some tire clearance and allows you to make big efforts out of the saddle without having the rear wheel skip around too much.
3. Wheelbase - reflects the above two factors, but basically a shorter one is more agile. A long one is better for comfort. Pros typically use 1 cm longer wheelbase bikes in Paris Roubaix, the cobbled and very bumpy classic in France. Most if not all of the wheelbase difference is made in the chainstay. This way the front end of the bike (where it's all fit to the racer) doesn't change.
A good fit will recommend:
1. An overall seat height (measured from the sole of the shoe to the top of the saddle). This means the following affect it: pedals, shoes, crank length, frame size, and saddle. This is virtually unaffected by anything out there - only individual preferences and physical disabilities factor in here.
2. An overall length - seat to bar, depends on how detailed they get. The bike is adjusted by using the saddle, top tube of frame, stem, bar, and height/angle of stem. The rider's experience level and riding goals affect the recommended length.
3. Crank arm length - I've decided this really depends on riding style and has virtually nothing to do with leg length. However a fitter may recommend a crank arm length to you. I'd keep an open mind on this topic.
4. Bar width - easy enough - about the width of your shoulders - but affected by riding style.
Based on the numbers and questions about your riding, the fitter will probably make some recommendations on bike and equipment.
Remember you only contact the bike in five spots - bars (twice), pedals (twice), and saddle. As long as those spots are in the right place, you can have anything between them, within reason. Once you know where those five points are, your job (and whoever else - LBS etc) is to figure out a way to connect the points in a logical and efficient way.
There is one more factor when choosing a frame. It has to do with bar to seat height - the vertical drop from the saddle to the bars. With virtual top tubes, it's hard to tell what's right.
Dave Moulton (frame builder) has an interesting chart on his blog relating to this (and associated commentary):
http://davesbikeblog.blogspot.com/20...ebar-drop.html
His numbers seem pretty good. I have a 53.5 + 13 top tube (66.5 cm total) and his chart says about 8.1 cm drop. My primary Giant has about a 5 or 6 cm drop to the top of the bars, and I'm setting up the Cannondale with perhaps another 1-2 cm of drop. His numbers seem to be aggressive but pretty close.
I have shallow drop bars so the delta between the two positions is less than with a deep drop bar. This means riding the tops is still pretty low but the drops don't put me that much lower. I could get deeper drop bars to get a lower low position but my lack of fitness (i.e. my stomach) gets in the way. For now I'll have to lose weight and have a relatively high position.
If you have a lot of doubts, buying an adjustable stem helps a lot. My stem is a Ritchey 12cm adjustable and it's a great tool for experimenting with bar height. I think they're $60 from Excel.
Add seat to bar height in the list of things a good fit provides (it would be #5).
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
For Sale - Bianchi Trofeo
(Update: this has been sold)
I'm going to be interrupting the blog here and there to post pictures of stuff for sale. For now I'm linking back to these posts from other places so sorry about the jarring topic change between this and the SDC blog. I have to admit that I have way too much bike stuff and I'm not keen on moving this all to whatever house we buy - and then try and figure out what to do with it all.
Here's the next thing up. A bunch of dibs so I won't bother with price.
Note Tiger sitting to the left.
Top tube: 21.75 inches or 55.2 cm
Seat tube: 21 inches c-to-c, 21.5 inches c-to-top or 53.3 cm c-to-c and 54.6 cm c-to-top
Chainstay: 16.75 inches or 42.5 cm
Headtube: 4.5 inches or 11.5 cm
Dedaccai cro-mo tubing, no specifications.
I'm going to be interrupting the blog here and there to post pictures of stuff for sale. For now I'm linking back to these posts from other places so sorry about the jarring topic change between this and the SDC blog. I have to admit that I have way too much bike stuff and I'm not keen on moving this all to whatever house we buy - and then try and figure out what to do with it all.
Here's the next thing up. A bunch of dibs so I won't bother with price.
Note Tiger sitting to the left.
Top tube: 21.75 inches or 55.2 cm
Seat tube: 21 inches c-to-c, 21.5 inches c-to-top or 53.3 cm c-to-c and 54.6 cm c-to-top
Chainstay: 16.75 inches or 42.5 cm
Headtube: 4.5 inches or 11.5 cm
Dedaccai cro-mo tubing, no specifications.
Equipment - Wheel Weight Limits
I've been searching for some wheels for myself - deep section rims, light in weight (so probably carbon fiber), and reasonable in price.
"Reasonable" is a relative term - it's pretty easy to lay out $2000 for a pair of such wheels, but I can't see myself doing that for wheels I'll use for training. It irks me that the beautifully designed, forged, strong, and light wheels on my car cost about that amount - if I can get wheels for the car, I ought to be able to get wheels for my bike for a bit less.
Plus, my main concern are the rims. The hubs and the spokes? I can always rebuild the wheel with new spokes and a new hub but if I can't buy the rims, well, I can't build the wheel. So I have to buy a complete wheelset just to buy the rims.
In the old days riders bought wheels, handbuilt by the local shop, made with some standard hub, 32 or 36 spokes, and a narrow, box section aluminum rim. The shop would make recommendations based on the buyer's requests, the shop's own experience with the parts, their knowledge of the local terrain, and perhaps some unsaid thoughts on the buyer's cycling style (or lack thereof). If the buyer requested (or insisted on) a super-light wheelset and the rims bent really quickly, the buyer would have slightly heavier rims laced on. Not expensive and not really too much of a pain. After all, a bent aluminum rim can usually be ridden home and relacing or rebuilding a new rim would be a sub-hour affair.
Nowadays things are a bit different.
First of all, I think you'd be hard pressed to find a skilled wheel builder in every local bike shop. In fact, I know you'd be hard pressed to find a wheel builder in even "serious" shops - those that have riders/racers working there and/or those that sponsor local clubs and teams. Now that isn't to say that your local shop doesn't have a good wheelbuilder, and I think the two shops nearby would be furious if I claimed that they can't build wheels (both are very serious and one guy probably forgot more about wheelbuilding than I ever knew, but hear me out on this one.
A number of years ago one embarrassing incident vividly illustrated the lack of wheel building skills to me. I had visited a very serious local shop, one that sponsored the team for which I raced. They have all sorts of fancy gadgets for fitting riders for custom frames, they stock and sell the highest end bicycles, and the staff are serious riders and racers.
I was waiting as regular customers were around (and took precedence, as they should, over a high-discount and therefore low margin team rider) along with, coincidentally, another team rider or two. One of them was holding a recently laced wheel - brand new rim, brand new spokes, all the spokes were loose and I figured he was in to have the wheel tensioned.
On a side note - it's actually easier to build a wheel than to tension one that has already been laced so saving that "time" by lacing the wheel for the shop is not really efficient. The builder has to analyze the laced wheel to determine where the tight and loose spokes are located, hope that all the spokes were the right length, wonder if the spoke nipple seats were greased, and hope the spoke threads were properly prepped. In other words, don't try and save the wheel builder time by lacing your own wheels.
Since we were both waiting at an empty workbench, I asked Mr. Wheel what he needed done. He said that the wheel needed to be trued. I could certainly see that - a just-laced wheel is not strong and probably not very true. To my surprise (and a bit of horror), he said that he'd been riding the wheel and it had de-tensioned. In other words, it had been built - by the shop - and the spokes sort of loosened up on a ride.
Looking at the spokes rattling around in the wheel, I couldn't believe he could go ten yards on that wheel.
Being a nice guy who knows wheels, waiting in a busy shop, I offered to check out the wheel for him.
It was pretty straight forward although I had to lube the spoke nipple head to eyelet area on all the spoke nipples. After 10 or 15 minutes, I had returned the wheel to about the right tension and handed the wheel back to him.
At about this time the harried owner (and one of the serious riders etc) walked over. Mr. Wheel didn't know what to do. The wheel was fine now but the shop itself didn't work on it (although I used their truing stand and spoke wrench). The shop politely declined any payment as did I, but Mr. Wheel, a really nice guy, was visibly embarrassed for the shop. They'd built the wheel just a few days before and the wheel totally and absolutely failed.
Not a good sign for the shop's wheelbuilding skills.
A little while later I ran into Mr. Wheel at a race and asked him about his wheel. The wheel had been holding up fine. Nothing wrong with the parts - it was the assembly where things went awry. I think he preferred not to talk about it as he still seemed somewhat embarrassed for the shop.
Nowadays, buying a wheelset is a bit different. With the Internet, liability lawsuits, and uneducated cyclists, selling wheels has become a minefield for the vendors. Therefore, instead of relying on the local shops for judgement decisions and (expensive and time consuming) wheel building skill, the vendors took over the process. Wheels are pre-built using sophisticated and well-designed wheel building machines.
Since the shop is not involved in the build, the wheel companies need to cover their collective rears. One way they accomplish this is to rate the wheels for maximum rider weight. If a bigger rider bends a wheel, the shop can shrug and say "Buy the stronger wheel". Some wheels are recommended for riders up to 200 pounds - I've seen others rated to only 165 pounds.
The shop's experience and advice is no longer customized for their riders, at least not within a certain level.
In other words, the shop loses one of its biggest advantages - its ability to advise individuals for their individual needs.
At the same time, wheels have been dropping huge chunks of weight in order to help the rider build his sub-16 pound dream bike. Curiously enough, the wheels are just starting to get below the ancient "light" wheelsets built by shops using box section rims. Granted, the new wheels are aero, but it's interesting that the first "light weight and responsive" wheelset marketed - the Helium - used the heaviest rim you could buy back then. And they still put a weight limit on them!
A disinterested observer might ask, "Why spend so much money on a wheelset when you are overweight?" or "What makes the wheelset too weak for a 165/200/etc pound rider?"
A Tom Boonen, well under 200 pounds, will probably ride a wheelset harder than virtually any 200 pound rider in the US. He'll race it over cobbles, do a couple hundred kilometers a day, and virtually shred the wheel to pieces with a 1600-2000+ watt sprint. Yet the wheels he uses may not be rated for those over 200 lbs.
Why can he ride the wheel but not someone heavier but riding only 20 miles a day, three times a week?
In a very round about way, it ultimately goes back to that trust in the local shop's wheel builder.
A skilled but heavier rider can use equipment that's officially not rated for use by such a rider. Find me a skilled rider over 200 lbs and I'm sure he can get away with training on some of the flimsiets wheels out there. However, the shop that sold him the wheels would advise him that using such wheels, even with his superior skill, will result in spokes failing earlier, and a missed bunnyhop would virtually guarrantee a bent rim. The rider would consider this and decide, I'll take the risk. The rider takes responsibility for his actions as does the shop for theirs.
I have a feeling that a lot of rider weight "limitations" are really liability and customer service related limits. The wheels rated at 165 pounds? They're bombproof and I'd take them off road if I had tires to match - perfect for 'cross or Paris Roubaix. I'd have recommended the wheels for reasonably skilled riders up to 225 lbs (I didn't know anyone heavier than that).
Before such arbitrary weight limits existed, as a bike shop you'd always have two types of riders always having wheel problems - the ones that had no clue how to ride and the ones that pushed the limits.
The second type, the ones that pushed limits, they usually sheepishly admit that they tried to do x or y and the wheel folded up on impact - I didn't mind those riders. They took responsibility for their actions. We felt comfortable suggesting rims or drillings - they'd also think about what they did on the bike and we'd arrive at a good balance between strength and weight.
The first type, those are the reasons the limits are around today. That type cost you the most time and energy - I had one such rider who weighed 125 lbs and would pound into our heads that "these wheels shouldn't break/go out of true/whatever because I only weight 125 lbs". Another one was a 195 lbs version of the first one. Both would regularly trash very nice rims/wheels which other riders used for years without any problems. Both blamed the components.
In reality, the fault lay in the nut that held the seat down.
The rider.
For these riders we could make recommendations which, on the surface, might have seemed somewhat illogical. The 125 pound rider got better quality spokes (his bike had horribly cheap OEM spokes) and a double eyelet rim (not a single eyelet rim as it came from the bike company). For good riddance we put him on kevlar belted commuter tires (he rode over a lot of glass and claimed tires shouldn't be affected by stuff on the road). The 195 pound rider got a V profile rear rim and 25c tires to replace his factory rims and the "high performance" 20c tires he'd bought elsewhere. Although his riding probably slowed down, he could hit the massive holes he hit (without unweighting the seat - after two years he admitted he didn't unweight his seat when he hit bumps) with relative impunity.
With discretion at the shop level, and qualified shop people to make those decisions, bikes and their components can be tuned to each rider's needs.
A wheel company has no such ability. They're designing wheels in some office and they only know the roads around there, the reports they get back from their testers, and perhaps some private inclinations or preferences. They don't interact with every single rider out there. So they need to make broad statements to address potential problems - weight limits are easy to implement and cover a broad range of problems.
Of course, some criticize the need for light wheels under a heavy rider. I learned the hard way not to sell features but instead to sell benefits. People generally look for benefits and they may not be concrete. Light/aero wheels under a heavy rider may seem illogical to some. Why not just lose weight or train more - enough power and you can go faster than someone with less power but cool gear.
There are a lot of "benefits" to buying a particular something and they're not always functional. That's the beauty of human nature. The new missus and I are looking to buy a house and one we saw has a $6k stove in a perhaps $25-30k kitchen. Will it make our food better? Not for me - I struggle with cooking spaghetti and sauce but it would be fun to have that stove (and related kitchen) and experiment with it (or watch a real chef cook on it). She'd have fun with it I'm sure but a $2k stove (that's what we had before) would probably work 99.9% as well. In our last house the cost to replace our appliances was about $6k and our food was perfectly fine (and it was a nice place to hang out, etc). A trained chef might have scoffed what we made in our ($10k) kitchen - "I can make better food using a camping stove" - but that doesn't make us enjoy it any less.
For a bike related example, you only have to look at me. Last week I bought a really nice new SRM/Record/Fulcrum Cannondale. Will it make me that much faster? Or, as one of my friends once asked me when I was hemming and hawing on buying a set of deep section aero wheels, "Will buying those win you $1600 more prize money?"
No, of course not. I don't think I've won that much prize money in the ten years since I've bought the wheels. And the new bike? Since I haven't even ridden on it, it hasn't done anything for my riding at this point. I can assure you thought that I won't win $5000 more prize money in the next 10 years due to any difference between that bike and my current Record/Eurus Giant, for example.
The reason is one I've stated before - it's the nut that holds the seat down.
I guess this is why I'm not a pro racer.
Anyway, although I bought a bike that's not necessarily magnitudes better than my current one. But man, this is one cool looking bike! I know the pain in the butt things are fine - it'll fit me and all that. This is where that feature versus benefit comes in. I know all the features, all the interesting design things. That's not why I bought my bike though. It's the human nature benefit bit.
I got it because I wanted it.
"Reasonable" is a relative term - it's pretty easy to lay out $2000 for a pair of such wheels, but I can't see myself doing that for wheels I'll use for training. It irks me that the beautifully designed, forged, strong, and light wheels on my car cost about that amount - if I can get wheels for the car, I ought to be able to get wheels for my bike for a bit less.
Plus, my main concern are the rims. The hubs and the spokes? I can always rebuild the wheel with new spokes and a new hub but if I can't buy the rims, well, I can't build the wheel. So I have to buy a complete wheelset just to buy the rims.
In the old days riders bought wheels, handbuilt by the local shop, made with some standard hub, 32 or 36 spokes, and a narrow, box section aluminum rim. The shop would make recommendations based on the buyer's requests, the shop's own experience with the parts, their knowledge of the local terrain, and perhaps some unsaid thoughts on the buyer's cycling style (or lack thereof). If the buyer requested (or insisted on) a super-light wheelset and the rims bent really quickly, the buyer would have slightly heavier rims laced on. Not expensive and not really too much of a pain. After all, a bent aluminum rim can usually be ridden home and relacing or rebuilding a new rim would be a sub-hour affair.
Nowadays things are a bit different.
First of all, I think you'd be hard pressed to find a skilled wheel builder in every local bike shop. In fact, I know you'd be hard pressed to find a wheel builder in even "serious" shops - those that have riders/racers working there and/or those that sponsor local clubs and teams. Now that isn't to say that your local shop doesn't have a good wheelbuilder, and I think the two shops nearby would be furious if I claimed that they can't build wheels (both are very serious and one guy probably forgot more about wheelbuilding than I ever knew, but hear me out on this one.
A number of years ago one embarrassing incident vividly illustrated the lack of wheel building skills to me. I had visited a very serious local shop, one that sponsored the team for which I raced. They have all sorts of fancy gadgets for fitting riders for custom frames, they stock and sell the highest end bicycles, and the staff are serious riders and racers.
I was waiting as regular customers were around (and took precedence, as they should, over a high-discount and therefore low margin team rider) along with, coincidentally, another team rider or two. One of them was holding a recently laced wheel - brand new rim, brand new spokes, all the spokes were loose and I figured he was in to have the wheel tensioned.
On a side note - it's actually easier to build a wheel than to tension one that has already been laced so saving that "time" by lacing the wheel for the shop is not really efficient. The builder has to analyze the laced wheel to determine where the tight and loose spokes are located, hope that all the spokes were the right length, wonder if the spoke nipple seats were greased, and hope the spoke threads were properly prepped. In other words, don't try and save the wheel builder time by lacing your own wheels.
Since we were both waiting at an empty workbench, I asked Mr. Wheel what he needed done. He said that the wheel needed to be trued. I could certainly see that - a just-laced wheel is not strong and probably not very true. To my surprise (and a bit of horror), he said that he'd been riding the wheel and it had de-tensioned. In other words, it had been built - by the shop - and the spokes sort of loosened up on a ride.
Looking at the spokes rattling around in the wheel, I couldn't believe he could go ten yards on that wheel.
Being a nice guy who knows wheels, waiting in a busy shop, I offered to check out the wheel for him.
It was pretty straight forward although I had to lube the spoke nipple head to eyelet area on all the spoke nipples. After 10 or 15 minutes, I had returned the wheel to about the right tension and handed the wheel back to him.
At about this time the harried owner (and one of the serious riders etc) walked over. Mr. Wheel didn't know what to do. The wheel was fine now but the shop itself didn't work on it (although I used their truing stand and spoke wrench). The shop politely declined any payment as did I, but Mr. Wheel, a really nice guy, was visibly embarrassed for the shop. They'd built the wheel just a few days before and the wheel totally and absolutely failed.
Not a good sign for the shop's wheelbuilding skills.
A little while later I ran into Mr. Wheel at a race and asked him about his wheel. The wheel had been holding up fine. Nothing wrong with the parts - it was the assembly where things went awry. I think he preferred not to talk about it as he still seemed somewhat embarrassed for the shop.
Nowadays, buying a wheelset is a bit different. With the Internet, liability lawsuits, and uneducated cyclists, selling wheels has become a minefield for the vendors. Therefore, instead of relying on the local shops for judgement decisions and (expensive and time consuming) wheel building skill, the vendors took over the process. Wheels are pre-built using sophisticated and well-designed wheel building machines.
Since the shop is not involved in the build, the wheel companies need to cover their collective rears. One way they accomplish this is to rate the wheels for maximum rider weight. If a bigger rider bends a wheel, the shop can shrug and say "Buy the stronger wheel". Some wheels are recommended for riders up to 200 pounds - I've seen others rated to only 165 pounds.
The shop's experience and advice is no longer customized for their riders, at least not within a certain level.
In other words, the shop loses one of its biggest advantages - its ability to advise individuals for their individual needs.
At the same time, wheels have been dropping huge chunks of weight in order to help the rider build his sub-16 pound dream bike. Curiously enough, the wheels are just starting to get below the ancient "light" wheelsets built by shops using box section rims. Granted, the new wheels are aero, but it's interesting that the first "light weight and responsive" wheelset marketed - the Helium - used the heaviest rim you could buy back then. And they still put a weight limit on them!
A disinterested observer might ask, "Why spend so much money on a wheelset when you are overweight?" or "What makes the wheelset too weak for a 165/200/etc pound rider?"
A Tom Boonen, well under 200 pounds, will probably ride a wheelset harder than virtually any 200 pound rider in the US. He'll race it over cobbles, do a couple hundred kilometers a day, and virtually shred the wheel to pieces with a 1600-2000+ watt sprint. Yet the wheels he uses may not be rated for those over 200 lbs.
Why can he ride the wheel but not someone heavier but riding only 20 miles a day, three times a week?
In a very round about way, it ultimately goes back to that trust in the local shop's wheel builder.
A skilled but heavier rider can use equipment that's officially not rated for use by such a rider. Find me a skilled rider over 200 lbs and I'm sure he can get away with training on some of the flimsiets wheels out there. However, the shop that sold him the wheels would advise him that using such wheels, even with his superior skill, will result in spokes failing earlier, and a missed bunnyhop would virtually guarrantee a bent rim. The rider would consider this and decide, I'll take the risk. The rider takes responsibility for his actions as does the shop for theirs.
I have a feeling that a lot of rider weight "limitations" are really liability and customer service related limits. The wheels rated at 165 pounds? They're bombproof and I'd take them off road if I had tires to match - perfect for 'cross or Paris Roubaix. I'd have recommended the wheels for reasonably skilled riders up to 225 lbs (I didn't know anyone heavier than that).
Before such arbitrary weight limits existed, as a bike shop you'd always have two types of riders always having wheel problems - the ones that had no clue how to ride and the ones that pushed the limits.
The second type, the ones that pushed limits, they usually sheepishly admit that they tried to do x or y and the wheel folded up on impact - I didn't mind those riders. They took responsibility for their actions. We felt comfortable suggesting rims or drillings - they'd also think about what they did on the bike and we'd arrive at a good balance between strength and weight.
The first type, those are the reasons the limits are around today. That type cost you the most time and energy - I had one such rider who weighed 125 lbs and would pound into our heads that "these wheels shouldn't break/go out of true/whatever because I only weight 125 lbs". Another one was a 195 lbs version of the first one. Both would regularly trash very nice rims/wheels which other riders used for years without any problems. Both blamed the components.
In reality, the fault lay in the nut that held the seat down.
The rider.
For these riders we could make recommendations which, on the surface, might have seemed somewhat illogical. The 125 pound rider got better quality spokes (his bike had horribly cheap OEM spokes) and a double eyelet rim (not a single eyelet rim as it came from the bike company). For good riddance we put him on kevlar belted commuter tires (he rode over a lot of glass and claimed tires shouldn't be affected by stuff on the road). The 195 pound rider got a V profile rear rim and 25c tires to replace his factory rims and the "high performance" 20c tires he'd bought elsewhere. Although his riding probably slowed down, he could hit the massive holes he hit (without unweighting the seat - after two years he admitted he didn't unweight his seat when he hit bumps) with relative impunity.
With discretion at the shop level, and qualified shop people to make those decisions, bikes and their components can be tuned to each rider's needs.
A wheel company has no such ability. They're designing wheels in some office and they only know the roads around there, the reports they get back from their testers, and perhaps some private inclinations or preferences. They don't interact with every single rider out there. So they need to make broad statements to address potential problems - weight limits are easy to implement and cover a broad range of problems.
Of course, some criticize the need for light wheels under a heavy rider. I learned the hard way not to sell features but instead to sell benefits. People generally look for benefits and they may not be concrete. Light/aero wheels under a heavy rider may seem illogical to some. Why not just lose weight or train more - enough power and you can go faster than someone with less power but cool gear.
There are a lot of "benefits" to buying a particular something and they're not always functional. That's the beauty of human nature. The new missus and I are looking to buy a house and one we saw has a $6k stove in a perhaps $25-30k kitchen. Will it make our food better? Not for me - I struggle with cooking spaghetti and sauce but it would be fun to have that stove (and related kitchen) and experiment with it (or watch a real chef cook on it). She'd have fun with it I'm sure but a $2k stove (that's what we had before) would probably work 99.9% as well. In our last house the cost to replace our appliances was about $6k and our food was perfectly fine (and it was a nice place to hang out, etc). A trained chef might have scoffed what we made in our ($10k) kitchen - "I can make better food using a camping stove" - but that doesn't make us enjoy it any less.
For a bike related example, you only have to look at me. Last week I bought a really nice new SRM/Record/Fulcrum Cannondale. Will it make me that much faster? Or, as one of my friends once asked me when I was hemming and hawing on buying a set of deep section aero wheels, "Will buying those win you $1600 more prize money?"
No, of course not. I don't think I've won that much prize money in the ten years since I've bought the wheels. And the new bike? Since I haven't even ridden on it, it hasn't done anything for my riding at this point. I can assure you thought that I won't win $5000 more prize money in the next 10 years due to any difference between that bike and my current Record/Eurus Giant, for example.
The reason is one I've stated before - it's the nut that holds the seat down.
I guess this is why I'm not a pro racer.
Anyway, although I bought a bike that's not necessarily magnitudes better than my current one. But man, this is one cool looking bike! I know the pain in the butt things are fine - it'll fit me and all that. This is where that feature versus benefit comes in. I know all the features, all the interesting design things. That's not why I bought my bike though. It's the human nature benefit bit.
I got it because I wanted it.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Trivia
A site I like to visit and see what I know (and what I don't know).
Cycling Revealed Trivia
It's a lot of fun and the "rankings" are there for everyone to see. I actually use my name so when you see "aki" that's really me. I have to confess that there are those who know a lot more than me. If you know your 80s and 90s you'll be reasonably well off. If you don't know your 50s, 60s, and 70s you'll rarely break into the top. And the kickers really are kickers.
It just started again so you can try out the first one. A new quiz comes out each week or so and historically they are during the off season (the road off season).
I should point out there are some practice exams at the bottom of the first page - easy and hard. It'll give you an idea of how things work.
A little bonus is that the scoring is monitored by the guy who runs the site - and he'll credit you for the misspellings if they seem reasonably close. In otherwords, "Hinalt" will pass for "Hinault" but if you type "Tomeke" that won't pass for, say, "Tomassini".
Have fun and good luck.
Cycling Revealed Trivia
It's a lot of fun and the "rankings" are there for everyone to see. I actually use my name so when you see "aki" that's really me. I have to confess that there are those who know a lot more than me. If you know your 80s and 90s you'll be reasonably well off. If you don't know your 50s, 60s, and 70s you'll rarely break into the top. And the kickers really are kickers.
It just started again so you can try out the first one. A new quiz comes out each week or so and historically they are during the off season (the road off season).
I should point out there are some practice exams at the bottom of the first page - easy and hard. It'll give you an idea of how things work.
A little bonus is that the scoring is monitored by the guy who runs the site - and he'll credit you for the misspellings if they seem reasonably close. In otherwords, "Hinalt" will pass for "Hinault" but if you type "Tomeke" that won't pass for, say, "Tomassini".
Have fun and good luck.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Equipment - G3 or not to G3
To misquote an classic writer, "To G3 or not to G3, that is the question."
G3 is actually the trade name for a spoke pattern used by Campy. It's an uneven spoke pattern - the spokes are arranged in groups of three, two on one side, one on the other.
On a rear wheel it makes a lot of sense. The drive side spokes of the rear wheel is under much more tension. This is because the rim is not centered on the hub flanges. With equal spoke counts on each side, the drive side spokes always have increased tension - this can lead to reduced spoke life. The wheel also goes out of true easier because of the bigger difference in spoke tension left to right.
Different companies have tried different ways of addressing the uneven spoke tension. One method is to bring the left (non drive side) flange closer to the center of the hub - this reduces the difference between the left and right flange-to-center distance. Another method is to offset the spoke holes in the rim - move them all as far as possible to the left side of the rim. By offsetting the rim holes, you effectively help recenter the rim on the spokes. A third method involves increasing the spoke count on the drive side, spreading the required spoke tension over a greater number of spokes.
The first method results in a wheel built with a very narrow flange-to-flange distance - this in turn causes the wheel to lose lateral rigidity. Although not a problem when going in a straight line, it reduces stability when turning or when making out of saddle efforts.
The offset rim holes works reasonably well but it requires manufacturers to tool up for front and rear rims, doubling inventory and tooling costs. In addition the rim is uneven in strength left to right.
The final method seems to have found most favor with wheel and rim manufacturers. It uses standard hub designs, standard rims, and involves drilling the left rear flange in a different pattern.
If you double the spoke count on just the drive side (and therefore halve the tension) you can increase reliability. Or if you're going aero, you halve the non-drive-side spoke count to bring the spoke tensions closer together. Either way the effect is the same - distribute the very high spoke tension on the drive side over a lot of spokes and use only as many spokes as needed on the non-drive and lower tensioned side.
Ten years ago I used the third technique to build 24 spoke wheels. The rims were, at the time, relatively radical low spoke count and deep section rims. However, hubs in such low spoke counts were not readily available (32 spoke was standard), and spreading the high spoke tension on the drive side over only 12 spokes meant there were incredible stresses on those spokes.
The third wheel building technique addresses both hub availability as well as the high drive-side spoke tensions. A wheel builder could buy a standard 32 spoke hub and use 16 spokes on the drive side and 8 on the non-drive side. This simply required skipping every other hole in the hub on the non-drive side. The built wheels were very reliable and had reasonable spoke tension on both sides.
Now you can buy wheels like that. One company using this build technique is Campagnolo. They call their particular design "G3". Fulcrum wheels also come like that, they call it "2:1". As Fulcrums are to Campy like Chrysler is to Dodge, they're made by the same people.
The G3 is the same thing but the spokes are grouped in three, not spread out evenly. On the rear you'll have a drive spoke (D), a non-drive (ND), and then a drive (D). Your spokes, if you went around the rim, would be like this:
Note that every ND spoke is opposed by two D spokes. In Fulcrum-speak it's "2:1". The D's (drive side) would have less tension than a normal wheel with just one D for each ND spoke.
An important reminder - all this information about uneven spoke tensions only apply to the rear wheel. In comparison to the nightmare at the back end of the bike, the front wheel is wheelbuilding paradise. Unless you have a disc brake, there is no difference in tension between the two sides. The rim is centered on the hub flanges and, again, unless you have a disc brake, you do not have to deal with hub torque.
Therefore, in a front wheel, there is no need for an uneven spoke pattern.
Here lies the problem.
Campy, in their marketing wisdom, has marketed, and is selling, a G3 front wheel.
A G3 front wheel would look like this:
Since the spokes are grouped together, the trio with a D bias will tend to pull to D. The ND biased trio will pull to ND. The spokes will naturally pull the rim from left to right. Since that's not a goal for a front wheel, the spokes will have to be tensioned unevenly. So in a D, ND, D triplet, since the three spokes need to exert equal tension left to right, the two Ds need to equal the opposite and single ND.
In other words, the Ds need half the tension.
At the next triplet, the opposite is true:
A G3 laced front wheel requires double the spoke tension on the single spoke (of a triplet) versus the pair on the other side of the rim.
This is absolutely illogical.
Not only do you have to tension the spokes unevenly, since spoke tension on the paired side is half that of the single side, the paired spokes will tend to loosen quicker, especially when flexing the wheel side to side (like when the rider stands up on the pedals). To counter this the overall tension of the wheel has to be increased so that the "half-tension" of the paired spokes is high enough to resist this "automatic spoke loosening". This means the single spoke opposite the pair will be tensioned to an excruciating pressure, reducing the lifespan of said spoke.
Wait, it gets better.
The relatively long expanse of rim between the G3 spoke trios is unsupported and therefore needs to be stiffer - this is in addition to the requirement that the rim fight the tendency to wander left to right due to the left-right spoke-triplet bias. Ultimately this requires a much stiffer than normal rim - in other words, a heavier and not optimized rim. You'll still get unusual rim movement around the spokes since there will always be local distortion due to spoke tension. So the rim snakes back and forth anyway, it just does it really quickly.
Think about what would happen if the same wheel were built without the G3 pattern. If the wheel has evenly spaced spokes and they alternate left to right like normal, the tension for each spoke will be about the same. The rim only needs to be stiff enough to bridge the standard gap between each (evenly-spaced) spoke hole. The rim moves back and forth between spokes in a normal fashion and can be optimized for a given spoke count.
Looking at it from a different point of view, if the G3 spoke pattern is so good for front wheels, Campy's top line wheels would be G3. Study Campy's top line wheels - they are distinctly not laced in a G3 pattern.
It is because G3 front wheels are an inferior design.
Along those lines, if G3 was good for front wheels, that would mean 2:1 would be good for front wheels too. There are no 2:1 laced front Fulcrum wheels. Again, it is because a 2:1 spoke pattern in a front wheel is an inferior design. In fact, on their spec page, they describe the 2:1 pattern as a rear wheel specific design.
Incidentally I had Vento wheels (G3 front and rear), and the G3 up front was so flexible it was downright scary. The rear wasn't bad so I'd use the rear, but the front I virtually never rode. The Vento rim is not that stiff and therefore the rim, and the bike, moves around a lot, especially when standing up.
In contrast I also have the Eurus wheels - G3 in the rear, a standard radial spoke pattern in the front. They are extremely tough, dependable, and have performed above my expectations. They are rigid, fast, reasonably light, and very strong. I double-pinch-flatted both front and rear tires (approx 130 psi in 700x23 tires) when I hit a pothole while drafting a truck at about 45 mph. Although the tires were unusable due to massive snakebike cuts and I had to ride back on flat tires, the wheels were perfectly in true. Impressed me for sure.
So to answer the question, to G3 or not to G3, it's both yes and no.
G3 for rear wheels is great.
G3 for front wheels is stupid.
G3 is actually the trade name for a spoke pattern used by Campy. It's an uneven spoke pattern - the spokes are arranged in groups of three, two on one side, one on the other.
On a rear wheel it makes a lot of sense. The drive side spokes of the rear wheel is under much more tension. This is because the rim is not centered on the hub flanges. With equal spoke counts on each side, the drive side spokes always have increased tension - this can lead to reduced spoke life. The wheel also goes out of true easier because of the bigger difference in spoke tension left to right.
Different companies have tried different ways of addressing the uneven spoke tension. One method is to bring the left (non drive side) flange closer to the center of the hub - this reduces the difference between the left and right flange-to-center distance. Another method is to offset the spoke holes in the rim - move them all as far as possible to the left side of the rim. By offsetting the rim holes, you effectively help recenter the rim on the spokes. A third method involves increasing the spoke count on the drive side, spreading the required spoke tension over a greater number of spokes.
The first method results in a wheel built with a very narrow flange-to-flange distance - this in turn causes the wheel to lose lateral rigidity. Although not a problem when going in a straight line, it reduces stability when turning or when making out of saddle efforts.
The offset rim holes works reasonably well but it requires manufacturers to tool up for front and rear rims, doubling inventory and tooling costs. In addition the rim is uneven in strength left to right.
The final method seems to have found most favor with wheel and rim manufacturers. It uses standard hub designs, standard rims, and involves drilling the left rear flange in a different pattern.
If you double the spoke count on just the drive side (and therefore halve the tension) you can increase reliability. Or if you're going aero, you halve the non-drive-side spoke count to bring the spoke tensions closer together. Either way the effect is the same - distribute the very high spoke tension on the drive side over a lot of spokes and use only as many spokes as needed on the non-drive and lower tensioned side.
Ten years ago I used the third technique to build 24 spoke wheels. The rims were, at the time, relatively radical low spoke count and deep section rims. However, hubs in such low spoke counts were not readily available (32 spoke was standard), and spreading the high spoke tension on the drive side over only 12 spokes meant there were incredible stresses on those spokes.
The third wheel building technique addresses both hub availability as well as the high drive-side spoke tensions. A wheel builder could buy a standard 32 spoke hub and use 16 spokes on the drive side and 8 on the non-drive side. This simply required skipping every other hole in the hub on the non-drive side. The built wheels were very reliable and had reasonable spoke tension on both sides.
Now you can buy wheels like that. One company using this build technique is Campagnolo. They call their particular design "G3". Fulcrum wheels also come like that, they call it "2:1". As Fulcrums are to Campy like Chrysler is to Dodge, they're made by the same people.
The G3 is the same thing but the spokes are grouped in three, not spread out evenly. On the rear you'll have a drive spoke (D), a non-drive (ND), and then a drive (D). Your spokes, if you went around the rim, would be like this:
D, ND, D,,,, D, ND, D,,,, D, ND, D
Note that every ND spoke is opposed by two D spokes. In Fulcrum-speak it's "2:1". The D's (drive side) would have less tension than a normal wheel with just one D for each ND spoke.
An important reminder - all this information about uneven spoke tensions only apply to the rear wheel. In comparison to the nightmare at the back end of the bike, the front wheel is wheelbuilding paradise. Unless you have a disc brake, there is no difference in tension between the two sides. The rim is centered on the hub flanges and, again, unless you have a disc brake, you do not have to deal with hub torque.
Therefore, in a front wheel, there is no need for an uneven spoke pattern.
Here lies the problem.
Campy, in their marketing wisdom, has marketed, and is selling, a G3 front wheel.
A G3 front wheel would look like this:
D, ND, D,,,,ND, D, ND,,,,D, ND, D
Since the spokes are grouped together, the trio with a D bias will tend to pull to D. The ND biased trio will pull to ND. The spokes will naturally pull the rim from left to right. Since that's not a goal for a front wheel, the spokes will have to be tensioned unevenly. So in a D, ND, D triplet, since the three spokes need to exert equal tension left to right, the two Ds need to equal the opposite and single ND.
2 x D = 1 x ND
In other words, the Ds need half the tension.
At the next triplet, the opposite is true:
2 x ND = 1 x D
A G3 laced front wheel requires double the spoke tension on the single spoke (of a triplet) versus the pair on the other side of the rim.
This is absolutely illogical.
Not only do you have to tension the spokes unevenly, since spoke tension on the paired side is half that of the single side, the paired spokes will tend to loosen quicker, especially when flexing the wheel side to side (like when the rider stands up on the pedals). To counter this the overall tension of the wheel has to be increased so that the "half-tension" of the paired spokes is high enough to resist this "automatic spoke loosening". This means the single spoke opposite the pair will be tensioned to an excruciating pressure, reducing the lifespan of said spoke.
Wait, it gets better.
The relatively long expanse of rim between the G3 spoke trios is unsupported and therefore needs to be stiffer - this is in addition to the requirement that the rim fight the tendency to wander left to right due to the left-right spoke-triplet bias. Ultimately this requires a much stiffer than normal rim - in other words, a heavier and not optimized rim. You'll still get unusual rim movement around the spokes since there will always be local distortion due to spoke tension. So the rim snakes back and forth anyway, it just does it really quickly.
Think about what would happen if the same wheel were built without the G3 pattern. If the wheel has evenly spaced spokes and they alternate left to right like normal, the tension for each spoke will be about the same. The rim only needs to be stiff enough to bridge the standard gap between each (evenly-spaced) spoke hole. The rim moves back and forth between spokes in a normal fashion and can be optimized for a given spoke count.
Looking at it from a different point of view, if the G3 spoke pattern is so good for front wheels, Campy's top line wheels would be G3. Study Campy's top line wheels - they are distinctly not laced in a G3 pattern.
It is because G3 front wheels are an inferior design.
Along those lines, if G3 was good for front wheels, that would mean 2:1 would be good for front wheels too. There are no 2:1 laced front Fulcrum wheels. Again, it is because a 2:1 spoke pattern in a front wheel is an inferior design. In fact, on their spec page, they describe the 2:1 pattern as a rear wheel specific design.
Incidentally I had Vento wheels (G3 front and rear), and the G3 up front was so flexible it was downright scary. The rear wasn't bad so I'd use the rear, but the front I virtually never rode. The Vento rim is not that stiff and therefore the rim, and the bike, moves around a lot, especially when standing up.
In contrast I also have the Eurus wheels - G3 in the rear, a standard radial spoke pattern in the front. They are extremely tough, dependable, and have performed above my expectations. They are rigid, fast, reasonably light, and very strong. I double-pinch-flatted both front and rear tires (approx 130 psi in 700x23 tires) when I hit a pothole while drafting a truck at about 45 mph. Although the tires were unusable due to massive snakebike cuts and I had to ride back on flat tires, the wheels were perfectly in true. Impressed me for sure.
So to answer the question, to G3 or not to G3, it's both yes and no.
G3 for rear wheels is great.
G3 for front wheels is stupid.
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