La Vie Velominatus, Part V: Un Jour Sans
As I sat down to write this article, I noticed that the battery on my laptop needed charging. I stood to reach for the charger, picked it up, and then watched helplessly as it slipped from my hand and pin-balled off every possible surface between my hand and the floor. I then muttered something that suggested it was birthed outside of wedlock and asserted that it may not in fact be comprised of plastic and electronics, but entirely of fecal material, as is the customary reaction to such events.
Having successfully insulted the inanimate object and thereby preserved my dignity, I picked it up (again) and unwound its cord which then promptly whipped around and smacked me in the face. On some days, I’ve come to learn, I just don’t have it.
This pattern of general discombobulation spread it’s tentacles beyond my benign computer-charging activity; it affected my cycling. Having spent 27 years climbing aboard a bicycle, most of the associated activities are second-nature and thus require very little focussed effort. Shifting, drinking from the bidon, clicking into the pedals; all these things happen without so much as a second thought and never do they require me to look down.
Or, I should say, almost never.
On this day I found myself with the chain crossed on two separate occasions; once on the little ring and once in the big ring. The fact that I only noticed I was in the big ring as I came to the top of a climb I found unusually difficult did little to temper my disgust at the incident. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid of a chain cross out of necessity, but I’m usually aware of it. What I found intolerable was the simple fact that I was caught completely unaware; that the connection between rider and machine had somehow been severed. But what I found most insufferable was the fact that I had to stare down at my feet and concentrate on the pedals in order to clip into them, lest my foot was left to dangle uselessly in the air just adrift of my pedals. I’m surprised I didn’t drop my bidon while attempting to replace it in it’s cage. Infuriating.
But even on these clumsiest of days, I can still spin the pedals smoothly enough to lose myself in the sensation of flight as my machine and I sweep through a series of hairpin turns together. I find I can still breath in the delightfully damp smell of a stand of deciduous trees or the sunbaked smell of a cedar pine forest. I find I can still indulge in the urge to make my legs burn for no reason other than to quell the doubt that I still can. Even on these days, when all the little things seem to conspire together to wear at my patience, the beauty of The Ride still unfolds before me.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
Maybe it’s in the air. The same thing happened to me today. Had the hardest time clipping back into the pedals on three separate occasions. And they’re fucking Speedplay pedals!! The Ride, however, was sublime.
I had one of these days a week or so ago. Pulled out of my pedals in a training sprint, cross chained on accident, dropped my chain, felt slow and weak, and couldn’t focus. Overall not an enjoyable ride.
On days like this one of the best parts is the afterglow of exercise, knowing that at least I kicked my own ass, and that the reward will come on a later ride. Part of what I call the V Bank. Some days you make deposits, other days you make withdrawals. A bank of course with steep inactivity fees.
This article sounds like it was ghostwritten by Frandy.
Nipple lube.
@G’phant
Well, hello Mummy! But, eh?
@G’phant
It’s also fun to reverse the word order.
@Frank
At least you didn’t fall over clipped in.
@Cyclops
You already torn the champ jersey?
@itburns
No, I was just noting that Frank would have had to take up curling or something if a clipped in fall was added to the equation.
@Cyclops
Yeah, I was just yanking your chain – or would that be nipple lubing your chain?
I have had Deep Thoughts(tm) about my connection to my machine. I read a review about the practical effect of Di2 electronic shifting. All the rage you know. Comes with a spiffy price, and apparently some of the skepticism of durability has now been dispelled. The reviewer noted that the shifting technique for Di2 is significantly different: you just slam the gear selection whenever and however you want. We have gotten so used to using the mechanical levers, that we don’t realize how in tune we are with the pressure on the pedals at *just the right moment* when we’re slipping the chain to different cogs. Di2 is reported to require none of that. Tap the lever, mash and unleash the V.
Having never ridden on Di2 (I blew all I had on my frame) this gets me thinking – I rather *like* the sensation of adjusting my stroke at just the right instant as I nudge the lever to make a gear change. There’s a…imperceptible connection…its like I’m helping the Machine help me. We become one because we need each other. Oh, this is all flowerery bullshit, but you get the idea. I want to make love to the bike, not fuck it.
But in the spirit of that metaphor, we’ve all rather wondered just how nasty we could get by paying a LOT of money. Just to try it.
@StillSearching4
Inter-post reference (see recent comments on the “New V-Features” post).
@eightzero
Nipple lube. (OK, joke’s wearing thin, I won’t persist, I apologise and withdraw (fnarr fnarr), etc.)
I had a similar but luckier day.
I had chain suck today and calmly rode about 10km until the next stop sign to check the frame damage. When I tried to unclip the left foot it wouldn’t go and I luckily hopped the front wheel over before I fell. I then flipped the bike over to see the damage only to see that there was no sign of anything having happened. A couple disasters averted.
To finish up the ride, I went through a photo radar fast enough to trip it.
I broke a chain tonight, ten minutes into a group ride. I initially thought it was because I’d installed it incorrectly – I’d shoved an old pin through after cleaning it instead of getting a joining pin. It was a humiliating experience, since I identify quite closely with my bikes and if I do something wrong I take it personally. But now I know the real reason – I read this post about mechanical fuck ups before the ride and was cursed. Given how superstitious cyclists are, this post is cursed. It is the post you don’t talk about.
@frank… great article… love this series
@eightzero… I’m with you… I’m not sure how I feel about Di-2… On the one hand, the engineer in me thinks it is cool… Bikes catching up with fighter planes and cars and moving beyond the ‘fly by wire’ school of thinking, which as we all know is flawed because wires stretch and break, and expand and contract at different temperatures, requiring constant attention, tweaking and maintenance… But on the other hand, it offends my belief in the purity of cycling and self-sufficiency… In my head, I always imagined that when the apocalypse comes, I’ll quickly stockpile an everlasting supply of Vittoria Open Corsas, and be able to carry on riding, Mad Max- like, long after civilisation as we know it has ended (hopefully wearing less black leather), because I’ll be able to maintain my machine – for my lifetime at least – without requiring electricities, laptops or starbucks… Although thinking about it, I may need to get a cross-bike ‘cos the road surfaces ain’t going to improve, and I’ll need to find a way to keep my shotgun (barrels and butt sawn-off for weight saving on the climbs, drilled-out carbon fibre pistol grips to match the bike) in my jersey pockets so it doesn’t interfere with my stroke… Anyhow, I digress
… What I like about your post is that you’ve reminded me there is an art to shifting properly that will be lost when we are all on Di2 or whatever the Campag version will be (Italians and electronics… hmmm, a heady mix)… And yes, you old dogs out there will point out that we lost something when we moved from down tube friction levers to ergo shifters, but that was before my time (but I still LOVE the stories… The Stig, our tame racing cyclist, tells about using his knee to slam it into a bigger gear as he winds up his sprint… Or having to listen for changes in breathing from the peloton behind you to work out when the attacks are coming, because there was no tell-tale ‘click’ when they were up-shifting…etc)…
My post is already too long, but your post reminds me of a ride I did with @Houdini a while back… I had hoped he was on a jour sans (see what I did there, Frank?) as he hadn’t started great, and was looking a funny colour (we’d been “carbohydrate loading” in liquid form ’til quite late the previous evening), but 30k in he found his legs, and was beginning to subtly apply pressure, just squeezing those pedals a little harder… No outward signs of doing anything different, if anything, looking more nonchalant and deadpan than usual… The usual passive aggressive stuff. The road was a false-flat, 3-4 percent, dead straight before rearing up half a klic ahead into the trees into an ugly 12 – 16 per cent ramp. I secretly vowed to myself not to buckle, and that I wouldn’t leave the big ring until he did, so we carried on, pretending that nothing was going on, whilst our legs burned, our lungs seared and beads of sweat formed on our faces from the effort of maintaining our outwardly cool demeanour and easy breathing.
… 400m further on, with my legs caving and my inner chimp screaming Nooo!, and the road tilting only one-way, I knew I had to punch out (Top Gun reference: “it’s too steep, I’m switching to guns”)… At the exact same moment, Houdini did the same… Simultaneously, we pressed all four of our ‘go’ buttons, executing two perfect, synchronised double-shifts: big to small at the front, two up at the rear… We looked at each other, revelled in the beauty of the moment for a few seconds… And then broke out into fits of hysterical giggles… We crawled up that ramp, looking anything but pro, with no rhythm, style or panache, but really, really happy… I’ll never forget the moment.
It just wouldn’t have been the same with Di2… And that makes me melancholy.
Sorry for going on a bit.
@roadslave
If your post had a “Like” button, I’d lube, er no, click it…
@roadslave
feel free to go on as long as you like when you are producing posts as interesting as that. Chapeau!
@King Clydesdale
The V Bank – I like it.
@roadslave
+1 I’m welling up!
@Chris
Maybe we need a “Lube +1” button instead of a “like” button… hrmm…
Ugh, I’ve felt like this lately too. Broken right shifter on my cross bike the other week. Spent five hours last week mounting fenders on my rain bike. Training rides for cross yesterday and didn’t have it. Coaching soccer & my team sucks AND refuses to be coached. And, my dog was acting off for awhile, in bad shape last night, turns out she was heading towards renal failure & might have a genetic problem with her adrenal glands.
But anyway, some days things just don’t go right; a pedal can be the easiest & best cure for all of that.
Frank – I cussed out my 3mm Allen wrench last weekend during fender installation. Nothing like yelling at inanimate objects.
@roadslave
Roadslave, I hear you. Fall is here and that means crappy weather in WI and riding the old winter bike – a Trek 1200 from about 89. (40 tooth chainring, 7 block at the back, downtube shifters, does the job just grand and is amazingly compliant with the principles of silence.) I do find myself missing the ease and convenience of brifters, but no matter what system I have, there is a physical engagement with the machine on three levels: ass on seat, feet on pedals and hands on bars. With the brifters there is an art, a feel to knowing just how much to push the specific lever and this will be lost with electronic shifting.
I think it’ll be a very long time before I get into Di2 because one of the charms, the beaurty and the eternal attraction of bikes is that they are remarkably simple and sophisticated at the same time. Materials and design aside, our 2011 bikes are really not much different to those Coppi rode. Cables, chain, levers, bearings, braking systems, gear systems – sure they’ve all improved but the fundamentals are basically the same. This gives us an ability to maintain our machines and a very direct link to our heroes of yesteryear. To me, Di2 is like any one of the electronic devices that fill our everyday lives, they work but most of us have no idea of how. I love how I can look at my bike and know exactly how everything works.
I just read something today about Jason Queally being a possible start for GB at the 2012 Olympics at what would be the ripe old age of 42. They talked about how cycling was a sport that saw engagement and performance at ages way beyond what is normal in other sports. They attributed this to several things: the non-impact nature of cycling and the fact that, unlike swimming, our sport doesn’t drive you crazy swimming up and down a pool. So many other sports have serious impact or require very specific venues and facilities. We have freedom to ride where, when and for however long we like. We can, to a point maintain our own machines. That is the beauty of it all.
@Ron
I was very disappointed that it was impossible to get the mudguards (as I believe we call fenders in the UK) an even distance away from the tyre for their complete length. Once I gave up on that idea though, they went on quite easily (on my number 3 bike).
As of yet, I don’t own a bike that could be called number 1, I have 2,3 and 4 (a classic 82 Kuwahara Laser Light with 20″ wheels)
@roadslave
A-Merckx!
In case you haven’t seen it, the Giro organizers have gone absolutely fucking insane:
http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/mortirolo-and-stelvio-to-feature-on-penultimate-day-of-giro-ditalia
Ho-lee-bat-fuck. But oh my Merckx is that gonna be something to watch.
@snoov
Snoov, I’ve got a pair of the “racer” guards on my #3 bike. Basically they run from behind the front fork and behind the back brake. They look good and keep the worst of the pish off you. They can be a bit fiddly to get perfectly set up, but so long as they’re not rubbing and pretty straight, I’m good with them.
I did a ride last Sunday in the pouring rain. I got soaked to the skin. Brought to mind something an old Renfrew hardman “Shug” Donald used to say, “the only thing that keeps ye dry is the fuckin’ hoose!” So true.
@Ron
Oy, five hours? You need SKS Raceblades. Not the prettiest solution, but they go on and off in a snap. It’s what I throw on my main bike when I know it’s going to rain the whole ride, and since Bike #1 is my bike for all weather conditions I feel like riding in, I don’t want permanently mounted fenders.
@Minion
A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Last Saturday I had a tubular roll-off in the first CX race of the season. I checked the complete bike, got a new chain, new sprocket, new brake pads, even a better sealed bottom bracket. Everything was clean and ready to go. And I put on new tyres at the end of the last season. So they still looked pretty new. And so far I never had issues with a tubulars rolling off the rim … until last Saturday. I should have known better and check their adhesion before the race. Luckily, I was not insured seriously in the inevitable crash. So I am looking forward to start next weekend again with tubulars glued properly.
@Eightzero
Agreed, Chapeau! @Roadslave.
@grumbledook
Luckily, I was not insured seriously in the inevitable crash.
Yup, gotta watch out for being seriously insured – especially in CX!
An artist’s rendition of what Grumbledock losing his tubular may have looked like:
That photo cracks me up every time I see it. Both their expressions are priceless.
@Eightzero
I’ve set my sky+ for it already!
@mrhallorann
predecessors of the Schleckgrimace
@roadslave
sweet music Roadslave +1 indeed
I sense a secret, not so well concealed, desire to have Di2, but that you can live with the stretchy wire bits out of respect for the purity of it all
Di2 – meh, I want it – I know it’s crappy cheating shit, but I’m done with not being able to set my FD up properly, and flicking the chain off as I am caught by the old pros who I blew off my wheel a few hundred ms back down the hill, who snort at my ineptitude as I spin the cranks against no resistance and fall off – I loved my Honda 2000, with it’s lack of auto-grippybackend thingy, and it’s roarty engine, back to basics handling, but I also love my 5-series BMYawn with the big sealed box under the bonnet with “no Trespassers” written on it.
@eightzero
“I want to make love to the bike, not fuck it” – yeh, but you know what I’m saying too bro’
Can we drop the sexist garbage please.
@King Clydesdale
I like V-bank more than pain bank. The ratio of deposit to withdrawal is too steep also.
@roadslave
I like the fact that nothing needs to be charged on my ride. The only power source, poor as they are some days, are the guns. Will that become the next excuse for decanting out the back? My Di2 battery went dead?
@roadslave
Roadslave, mate, +1 Badge for you. I can’t think of a better way to express how well I think you put that. The beauty of a cable, however flawed it is, is only emphasized by the involvement that it brings from it’s operator. Quite simply, it takes it from simply being an action to being an art. That that transformation, in the countless forms its manifests itself throughout our sport, is precisely what makes it what it is.
Oh, and nipple lube.
@roadslave
Nipple, cable, and chain lube. Sheer fucking poetry that. You can have my cable shifters when you pry them from my cold dead fingers.
@frank
Et tu Brute?
I gotta go back to the original “nipple lube’ post and ask; Exactly what brand and type of petrol product do you use to lube said nipples? I always just use a light chain oil. Nipple lube? Really? Is kinda chatchy though, Nipple lube.
@scaler911
Appletini
@scaler911
I hear melted scented candle wax works well.
@frank
@roadslave
Frank/Roadslave – Great posts. You’ve articulated my feelings to a T. I’ll also add that a similar type of loss would be felt from the perspective of working on your bike. There is something therapeutic for me about installing and tuning a cable system. From threading the cable through the brake levers, down through the tubes, guides and into the derailleurs, the first hand pull of the cable, the initial adjustments, hearing the rub of the chain on the cage disappear as you turn the screws and the satisfaction of reaching that beautiful silence as everything gets perfectly aligned. Even cutting the cable and crimping the endcap is an opportunity to make your bike as perfect as possible. I just can’t imagine pushing a button and turning a limit screw… no matter how easy or efficient… could be as satisfying.
I’m not anti e-shifting, and suspect I’ll own a bike with it at some point, but I’m also sure that I will always have a few bikes running cables in my collection.
@Dr C “I sense a secret, not so well concealed, desire to have Di2, but that you can live with the stretchy wire bits out of respect for the purity of it all”
I am so busted
@all…thanks for kind words.
I’m relatively new to road bikes, I’d consider myself to be a more than competent bike mechanic but have never had the opportunity to fiddle with derailleur gears. It’s not to hard after watching a few how to clips on-line and it’s very satisfying having no problems whatsoever changing gear and so far (though I’m sure it’ll happen one day but not because I typed this) I’ve never dropped my chain.
It does fill me with glee when I make a shift from the wee ring to big as it’s somewhat mystical. I previously thought that the pin that joins the two parts of the front mech and is under the chain somehow lifted the chain up onto the big ring but no, just the sideways movement is enough to skip the chain over, the teeth seem to grab it and off I go sur le plaque, it amazes me. There’s also the satisfaction that comes from maintaining it myself, when my riding buddies always seem to have to go back to the LBS because the LBS didn’t get it right the first time.
When I get a biek I can call number 1 bike it probably won’t have Di2 but I’d maybe only get Di2 if there was a compatible solar charger just in case there is a societal collapse as someone previously mentioned, but stocking up on tyres etc will slow down my ability to get bike number 1, which is my proirity right now.
Dear Frank
Why are there 14 teeth on the V cog when we all know the maximum V is 11 ?
@minion
Quite right – it’s not funny or clever – I’m ashamed – have asked the leader to remove my vile tripe of a posting
@Rik Perry
The answer is, of course, that Merckx set the Hour record in a 52×14.
@frank
astonishing attention to detail – chapeau
@Dr C
Probably more like second nature. Like putting the key in the ignition and turning it to start. You don’t think about it, you just know. It’s why Frank is Frank.