Some people are supremely good at it, reducing complex situations into matters of simple black and white. This isn’t my particular area of expertise; I enjoy wading through the pools of ambiguity a bit too much to go about bludgeoning this beautiful world into absolutes. In fact, I would venture that delighting in nuance is part of what distinguishes La Vie Velominatus from the simple act of riding a bicycle.
I’ve spent the summer wrapping myself in the Rules handed down by the Apostle Museeuw during Keepers Tour 2012, with particular emphasis on Rule #90. Climbing Sur la Plaque is a cruel business, rising upwards under the crushing weight of physics as you fight to maintain your rhythm and momentum. At first, it’s a struggle to maintain speed on the smaller climbs as you learn how to change your pedaling action to compensate for changes in gradient. You focus on loading the pedals and forcing them around; the moment you lose the rhythm, gravity sinks her claws into your tires and tries to drag you back down the hill. On the other hand, if you maintain your cadence and power through the ramps, what is usually an intimidating slope will disappear under your wheels, making molehills of mountains.
If the Big Ring is a hammer, then not every climb is a nail. (I realize too late that referring to the road as a nail is sure to bring the Puncture Apocalypse on today’s ride.) The guns get more massive from the practice of Rule #90, but it comes at a hefty price: souplesse withers like a delicate flower as one seeks to conquer the art of mashing a huge gear. Indeed, one of the great pleasures in Cycling is to sense a certain fluidity of your stroke which belies the feeling of strength in your muscles as you continue to heap coals on the fire.
This requires an art altogether different from moving Sur la Plaque; it relies on turning the pedals at a higher cadence and shifting gear whenever the gradient changes. Rhythm holds court over everything else and is maintained at all costs. As the gradient steepens, the chain is slipped into the next smaller gear; as the gradient eases, it is droped back down. Not every climb suits this style of riding; the rear cluster must be matched perfectly to accomodate the changes in pitch such that maximum speed is maintained and the legs allowed to continue their relentless churn. When synchronized perfectly, it is the gateway to La Volupté; when not: disaster.
Such is the nuance of shifting gear, such is the nature of Cycling.
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Now we are talking. Taking on the Big Ring all together until it becomes a weapon of choice. Heels down and all Hell! I am still riding 54/44 and often catch myself forgetting that it is 54/44. It feels great to power over hills and giving no visible (or audible) shift to the other riders around you. Some days I want for a 13/26 cassette, but continue to ride the 11/21 where my cadence knows what it is trained to do.
At the risk of (inappropriate) threadjack, this one (and the very appropriate picture) plays directly into a debate I've had with myself whilst focused on the V-locus: if I could place gear change command inputs anywhere on the bike, where would they be?
Remember that downtube levers were a huge inprovement to derailleur set ups. And then STI levers became derigeur for all modern bikes. In the last few years,we've seen electronic shifting make its appearance, but oddly, electronic shifters have left the "buttons" at the same place as the STI lever. Yes, there are remotes available, and TT bar options as well.
But...if you could put that button anywhere on the bike, where would it be? And remember....it theoreticlly doesn't even need to have a wire leading there. Maybe on a glove? Or is the STI placement the ultimate refinement?
We now return you to our regularly scheduled thread.
As a developing pedalwan nothing gave me greater pleasure than when I was able to commute to work this summer without difficulty in the big ring the whole way.
Not that my commute is a challenge, but there are certainly spots where I used to be required to be in the small ring to make it up the hill, or even just feel like I wasn't overcooking myself.
@eightzero
Be careful that you don't get indiscriminate shifts from having a button where other actions are intended -- reaching for water bottles...
Two things - first the Bianchi should be sporting Simplex levers...
Secondly - I read an article recently about the difference between the pros and the Average Fred when it comes to climbing. Fred will start down shifting to bring his cadence up while the pro simply stays in the same gear and the same cadence and just mashes on the pedals harder. I've been trying that a lot on (not so steep) gradients and it is amazing the damage you do to people when your speed, cadence, body position, breathing, and facial expression does not change as you start going up hill. It's pretty demoralizing to them. I like it.
@Cyclops How much for the Simplex levers? And are they for sell?
I love competing against riders who have to mash every hill in the big ring, barely doing 50 rpm, because they confuse pride with idiocy and don't understand that bike racing is all about saving energy. Every time I see them out of their saddles, fighting with their pedals, I smile and know there is potentially one less racer to worry about in the finish.
@unversio Just a picture from the internet.
It does confuse me a bit when folk smile after making it up a climb in the big ring but on their 27 tooth sprocket, they assure me they are not cross chaining?
Frank, that opening paragraph there... Spot on, just absolutely spot on as far as I'm concerned. Beautiful. Here in Denmark (as in many other places, I assume) there is a strange tendency, particularly in the media, towards ever-increasing simplification, for lack of a better word, of complicated aspects of reality. Journalists, politicians, so-called experts all seem to fight amongst themselves in order to be the first to reach the microphone - and then it's as if they have all been coached by the same marketing guru, who has instructed them to begin every sentence by saying "Of course, ..." or "Clearly, ..." or even "Obviously, ..." or similar, to create the illusion that they know exactly what they are talking about. The curse of the clever one-liner, as it were...
Life is simple, I guess (Ride Lots), but the world we live in is very, very complicated - and thank Merckx for that. As you say, this beautiful world of ours is wáy too rich in nuance and subtle shades of whatever, to be reduced to absolutes. Thanks for putting that into words in such an eloquent manner - made my day.
As for big-ringing it uphill: Hmmm - tricky. My old and creaky knees would not approve at all, I'm afraid (but that might well be a matter of having to HTFU?). However, while on the bike, I really enjoy the process of finding the exact right gear(s) to keep me going up and down hills at the same, steady but hopefully 'souple' cadence of 85 RPM or thereabouts.
Thankfully, cycling is as complicated a business as the world itself: one could write a book about it, perhaps?