How big is too big? How soft is too soft?
The Rider is the best book ever written about Cycling. I don’t mean that figuratively, I literally mean that literally. I say this despite having had my hand in writing our own Book about Cycling. What makes this book great is not just the prose, which is immaculate, but the spirit of the Velominatus that permeates the work. My friend @ErikdR recently sent me a copy in the original Dutch and, to my amazement, the English translation loses very little of the subtext that most translations do. Still, some expressions as they are written in Dutch carry so much meaning that it is impossible to translate into a foreign tongue. This is the essential underlying art, the intangible essence that separates language from communication.
Early in the book, Krabbé rides a short warm-up and upon reaching his turn-around point, climbs off to answer the call of nature. As he remounts, he carefully wipes his tires clean before setting off back towards the start/finish line. I had never noticed that bit of the book before but the Dutch version used a particular turn of phrase that expressed, if not a love, then an unusual degree of care given to an inanimate object.
And I realized, at that moment, that Cyclists today don’t love their tires anymore; clinchers have desensitized us against the miracle of riding on a membrane supported only by air. Tubulars, on the other hand, make you work to appreciate their miracle. You have to huff some glue (technically that counts as a win-win), you have to align the tyre properly, you have to keep the glue off both the braking surface and the sidewall, which seems like a paradox to the uninitiated. Tubulars make you work for it, they help you appreciate that a tire isn’t a bit of disposable kit; it is a commitment towards mutual benefit.
I was raised like every other Merckx-fearing Velominatus: on a strict diet of Rule #5, long hours in the saddle, and 19mm tires pumped to the highest number the sidewall said to pump them to. Which was usually around 10 bar (150 psi). Simple physics: less surface area meant less friction, and everyone knows friction is an asshole.
Until the last few years, I’ve ridden 23mm tires at 8 bar, no questions asked. In the past few years, however, we’ve come to understand that lower pressures and wider tires provide some significant benefits, like being faster and more comfortable, to pick two. I have accepted this transition like a toddler “accepts” his vegetables.
Like Grandpa adjusting to color film in his camera, I have gradually moved towards wider tires at lower pressures. I’ve been experimenting with 25mm, 26mm, and 27mm tires for the last few seasons, pumped up anywhere from 6.5 to 8.5 bar. (On the cobbles in Northern Europe, I ride them at 5 to 5.5 bar, depending on the conditions.) Empirically, the difference in ride quality by tire pressure comes down first to the quality of the tire and its materials, the weight and riding style of the rider, countered by the road conditions.
Mileage may vary based on your weight and tire, but for now I’ve landed on 26mm tires at 7.5 bar. Now I’m just waiting for my order of Gianni’s Digital Lezyne pressure gauge to show up so I can really get down to business.
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@Ron
Technically, Tricky Dick's "gate" was just the name of the building, so it wasn't really a gate at all. The metonymy grew from there. Nixon's gait suggests he probably wasn't much of a cyclist. Rumours abound, however, that he was Rule 33 compliant.
Nice one, Frank - and I'm really glad you've enjoyed/are enjoying the read.
Part of the 'secret', I guess, is in the frequent - and almost un-translatable - use of the diminutive. "Ik veeg mijn bandjes schoon" immediately seems to suggest a sense of TLC in Krabbé for his poor 'little' tires, which are about to be put through an ordeal in the hours to come...
@Teocalli I've been running Schwalbe Ones on my #1 bike, but, like you, I'm still a bit on the fence: beautifully responsive ride, but they seem more puncture-prone than the Schwalbe marketing team would have us believe.
On the Giant Defy workhorse, I run Durano Plus. A bit heavy and sluggish by comparison, perhaps, but they have been utterly bullet-proof so far. (* Touch wood, salt over shoulder, mutter three hail-Merckxes...*). But I must try tubs at some point - soon, I hope.
@Ron
Spot on, Ron.
@the Engine
I love the quote "his 22 was still clean". I think about that when I go uphill and did not need to use the lowest gear. Although must admit that it's not the 22 that's still clean then...
@VeloJello
Any idea why cleaning tires is advised to be done using vinagre? I read somewhere is because of some sort of way put on the tires to keep them supple when they are shipped. But surely after the first 50km, that's gone.
@Teocalli
Why would they use stuff that dentists use to keep your mouth open. Or was it for something that felt like pulling teeth?
@Teocalli
They would become razor sharp and then drop down and slice your tyres (or fingers if you dared adjust them). You want these in the way you want coaster brake levers and a bar end mirror.
@KogaLover
Haven't a clue. I reserve vinegar for my chips and, when the season permits, my conkers.
Thanks for the bandjes banter, Frank...I think we're starting to like our vegetables, but the bike brands aren't all on board with their tire clearances. What's up with that?
[Btw, I'm currently running 28mm Conti GP 4 Seasons due to post-winter asphalt irregularities and crap still on the roads. I'll soon switch to my standard GP 4000 SII's in the 25 width (5-6bar--I'm about 75kg)]
Clinchers do seem to lack the mystery and wonder that tubulars have. After all, pop a clincher off the rim and there's no hiding that there's a tube inside doing the work to hold the air. Plus, learning the art of gluing on a set up tubs is nearly as unique as learning to build the wheels themselves (and not the latest, greatest, super-aero, carbon-fiber, high-dollar, bling people want now). But all this noted, I do have a particular favorite type of clincher.: A specific brand open tubular, high thread-count, pricey perhaps, tan sidewalls preferred, with a latex tube. Is it exactly like riding a tubular? Damn near. But as good as it gets, never quite as cool as the original.