Joe-Made Fender = Fail

In anticipation of a wet Sub9 Death March this Saturday, I made a fender from this 100 count CD tower.  I work at a radio station and empty compact disc towers are as abundant as men and women who can give you the time and temperature four different ways.  Its 44 degrees at 4:44.  That’s 16 minutes before the hour and we’re expecting a shower.  44 minutes past four and the thermometer reads 44.  Quarter to five and just shy of 45.  See.  I’m not making that up.

Tube snippet btwn frame & fender keeps it from slipping

In the respect that my Joe-made fender may keep some water from hitting the front of my body during the Death March in Hoosier National Forest, I have succeeded.  In the respect that it looks like a pot smoking 10^th grade shop class dropout crafted it from a CD tower of Metallica bootlegs with a pair of dull tin-snips and ugly green zip ties, it’s also…a glaring success!  In your eyes, you are making a note never to ask a certain blogger to come over and help with your home construction project.

Anything I cut ends up looking as straight as Steve Buscemi’s smile.  I know.  Measure twice and cut once.  The problem is my one cut is always more crooked than a Wall St. hedge fund manager.  I threw my first three drafts away.  I will blame the first two attempts more on the plastic being too brittle or the possibility that I am left handed and the tin snips were not.  The third attempt got burned.  A friend suggested that I heat up a screw driver to poke holes in for the zip ties rather than drilling and risking cracking the plastic.  That really didn’t work.  So I tried heating up the plastic.  While I enjoyed a 3 second high from the fumes, I turned my fender into a burnt Frito Lay potato chip reject.  It should be noted that I cannot operate a cigarette lighter and should never be put in the position of using anything with fire aside from the stove and only under direct supervision of an adult.

My fourth attempt wasn’t that bad.  Well it wasn’t awful.  It didn’t totally suck.  Well maybe it did.  Yeah.  As the two old men critics on the Muppet Show would say from their balcony, “That was horrible.  Get him off the stage.  Boooooo!”

The only redeeming qualities of my ho-made fender are that it is clear, which looks kind of sporty.  It probably will keep some water from hitting my legs and working its way into my socks, which is also nifty.  The glaring FAIL is that while the edges are straight, they are not 90 degree from the factory cut edges.  It’s also slightly off center.  Okay, the Mississippi River runs straighter between Dubuque and New Orleans.  And, after reading a recent article in Bicycling Magazine about Aero bikes versus light bikes…my fender is as aerodynamic as a city bus.

The final death blow is that you can buy a nifty perfect fender, that's much better than mine for one tenth of the time commitment for $9 at your local bike shop or REI if you click here.  That’s sort of disconcerting when I figure I put at least 2 hours into this project.  How much do you make an hour?  I'm guessing enough to buy a freaking $9 fender.

Cyclocross Solution: Carbon Fork Brake Shudder (revisited)

Note: So far I have not received any feedback calling me a kook or a hack.  I must be on to something.  Aside from the Celebrities On My Bike post featuring American Idol winner Taylor Hicks, this has been one of the all-time most popular posts on The Best Bike Blog Ever, original here.  Since CX season is looming, here's a revisit to to the confounding topic of brake shudder, or as I like to call it fork snap, with carbon cyclocross forks.  After rereading it, a year later, I still agree with my findings.  It's not your brakes.  All forks flex under braking pressure.  The rate at which they snap back to their original position is what is different between say steel and carbon.  The trick fix is to minimize the fork flex, slow the rate of the snap and not throw your bike into the woods.  

I inadvertently performed a bike experiment last night after work. I took my cyclocross bike, an Indy Fab Planet X with an Easton EC90x carbon fork for a spin at a nearby park.Since the glue job on the Zipp 404 CX tubulars was fairly new, over the past week I kept the air pressure high to make sure the glue cured and stuck to riding the roads and bike path while I dialed in the fit.Yesterday was my first cyclocross style ride with the tires at cross pressures.  Instead of driving the mile to the park, I decided I’d just let some air out of the tires in the parking lot at work and ride over to the park. I guessed at it and let air out until I could squish the Vittoria file tread really good with my thumb. The ride in the park for the most part was fine, although the pressure was probably a tish too low on the hard ground. The bike felt like it was pushing to the outside in corners (as if the tire was sort of rolling under the rim.) Since my pump was a mile away, I just dialed back the cornering speed and went on with my ride. Coming down the steep road back to my car at work, I hit the brakes, and I felt the familiar tug-tug-tug of brake shudder. I could see the ends of the fork blade move. Son of a!

I had been riding this bike for at least a week and a half with the tires over 60 psi with no brake shudder. Now the tires were at the extreme opposite (guessing around 28-30-remember I let air out without a guage), probably a few PSI too low for hardpack causing a little shudder when slowing at the bottom of a paved hill. I knew about the possibility of brake shudder with carbon cyclocross forks and consequently hung on to my trusty steel fork in case this was to happen. However, I hardly think it’s time to ditch the carbon fork. You have to admit, it’s pretty rare to have a paved descent in a CX race. I didn't feel a single bit of shudder or snap while riding in the park and I even bombed a few grassy downhills where I had to brake into a corner.  It was a long hill; long enough to hit the brakes and watch what was happening.The brakes were slowing the wheel, but the tire was spinning just a bit faster.When I hit the brakes, the tires traveled a little further than the rim, causing the sidewall of the tire to give a bit and in reaction, causing the fork to flex under the bike with the grabby pressure. Ah ha!

Of course, putting the steel fork back on would reduce the shudder. But, I don’t think the problem is severe enough to add a pound back to the bike.  I also think brake shudder isn’t the correct description. It’s more like fork snap. I think Carbon forks are stiffer and snappier. We all know steel has a very soft and easy flex to it. I think the steel fork flexed too, but it never snapped back to shape as quickly as the carbon. It’s like the difference between bamboo and pine. Both forks will flex under braking pressure. It’s just that the carbon fork will snap back into shape while the steel fork will flex, stay in the flexed position longer and go back to it’s original shape more slowly and less noticeably when the pressure if relieved. In addition the IF steel fork has a greater degree of rake, (48mm compared to the carbon’s 45mm). From the beginning the steel fork puts the contact area of the tire more forward than that of the Easton EC90x.

You can do a few things to minimize the “snap.” The usual fix is to try toeing in the brakes which will put less initial brake pad in contact with the rim surface, which I assume reduces initial braking power, makes braking more linear or gradual, and consequently reduce the fork flex at the other end. However, I think that’s only half, or more likely a quarter of the solution. I think tire construction, the grippiness of brake pads, tire pressure, fork rake and even the hardness of the ground play an equal role. I would go even as far to assume a tubular with a soft cotton sidewall and latex inner tube (like a Challenge or Dugast), would cause more carbon fork snap than say a Tufo or Vittoria with a thicker sidewall and standard rubber inner tube. The ground was hard yesterday, I really only needed to run low enough pressure for comfort and keep the tires from rolling in the corners. I think a few more PSI would’ve made all the difference. The other thing to note is that I didn’t feel any fork snap during the CX practice. It didn’t snap until bombing down a long paved hill.

I think the trick is to keep enough air in the tires so that they hold their shape in the given conditions. This optimal pressure will change with the course and conditions.  If the tires hold their shape, that’ll give the contact patch of the tire less opportunity to get under the fork and pull it backwards. The fork snap should be reduced. Air is the least expensive of the possible combination of solutions.

Ahh. Fhew. Time to put on my smoking jacket and ease into my high-backed leather chair with a snifter of brandy.

Goodbye Mr. Janglybag

Gears clanking, chain slapping, seat bag jangling, not too long ago I was on a big group ride and got stuck behind a rider with a noisy bike, Mr. Janglybag.  I couldn’t take it.  Rather than berating him for bad manners and his lack of packing skills, I sat-in till I found another wheel.  Sitting-in is a great way to save energy if you’ve got the sniffles, are the weaker rider in the bunch or just need to get behind or in front of someone else.  Unfortunately, many riders haven’t mastered the art of changing their position in the paceline without causing gaps or disrupting the pace.  Consequently they get dropped if they’re weak or start making enemies if they’re not cool about it. 

I sat-in to get away from Mr. Janglybag, but there are other reasons to sit in.  A lot of riders don’t even think about how the riders in front of and behind them in a paceline affect their experience.  Maybe a sprint is coming up and you’d rather have a teammate’s wheel.  Maybe the guy in front of you is squirrely and you’d rather be behind someone steadier.  Maybe you’re on the brink of getting dropped because the doofus behind you always jacks the pace after you take your pull and you’d rather have a smoother person behind you.  I’ve sat-in for all these reason and it works.  The trick to sitting-in is to be invisible. 

     X

     X

     X

     X

     X

     X

     X

Take these 7 riders for example, and excuse my lack of graphic art skills.  The GREEN X is taking their pull.  You’re (RED X) picking up the rear. 

     X

 X  X

     X

     X

     X

     X

GREEN X has finished their pull, has moved off the front and drifts to the rear.  You (RED X) need to be aware that it’s time to put on your cloak of invisibility and get ready to move to your left a bit. 

     X

     X

     X

     X

  X X

 X

GREEN X is now almost to the rear of the paceline.  You (RED X) move behind them and slightly to the left in their blind spot.  Then, drift to the rear with them.  As GREEN X gets ready to fall back in line, naturally he’ll look to the right to grab the wheel of the last rider he sees-the rider to his right at the moment. 

     X

     X

     X

     X

     X

   X

   X

Since you (RED X) were in the blind spot, GREEN X didn’t see you and simply moved behind the last rider he saw, the guy that used to be in front of you.  You move behind GREEN X.  The pace stays steady and you stay out of the wind.  If the people you’re riding with know you’re under the weather or a weaker rider, they won’t mind.  Or, if you’re just looking for another wheel, you can sit on till you’re between the riders you want to be.  Goodbye Mr. Janglybag.

A Dog On The Carpet, A Fish In The Air

I want to say you look like a dog scooting across the carpet desperately trying to get a dingle berry out of his fur, but I can’t. I keep it bottled up, because when it comes down to it, I should just be glad there’s another soul out there on a bike. I see riders all time, usually older more portly gentlemen, riding road bikes with their knees sticking out to the sides and their hands on the tops of the bars doin’ the poop scoot boogie. I try. I try so hard to mentally put a smile on my face and say way to go! So, glad you’re out there riding your bike, enjoying the outdoors, and losing a little weight. Then I see the knees akimbo, the hands close to the stem, and the legs wildly spinning two gears too small and something gurgles up inside that makes me want to roll up to them and say, “for goodness sake man, look at your reflection in the storefront windows. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Your riding looks like a dog trying to get a poop out of it's fur! But, I’m a non confrontational man. A wussy trait I know. One day they’ll have the revelation or someone with bigger stones than I will approach them.

That’s how it happened with me. I used to scoot across the roadway knees pin-wheeling to either side of the bike. Then one day a veteran racer on a group ride said, “Eh, Joe your knees are sticking out. Get your knees in, like this. It’ll make you more aero, efficient and faster.” I saw some truth in that. Who doesn’t want to get faster and use less energy doing it? Looking back I’m sure it was all a diabolical plan so he wouldn’t have to be on a group ride with someone who rode like a dog with a rear-end issue. I wrote about the experience in a previous post here.

Sorry. I know I shouldn’t cast judgment. Maybe the big-boy thunder thighs can’t come any closer to the top tube. Maybe the larger belly in tandem with the thighs causes an inability to put hands on the hoods or in the drops. I’ve never spun a mile in a large man’s chamois. It could physically be impossible. That’s why I dare not approach and instead take the long slow road of hoping that when the butt scooter loses a few pounds and ends up riding with some veteran riders that osmosis will take place, he’ll take note of the knees and slowly they’ll migrate toward the top tube.

There are so many ins and outs, dos and don’ts and unspoken “rules” of cycling, the fact that anyone new to the sport can pass the scrutiny of veteran riders is nearly impossible. There’s always be poofy jacket guy, seat bag big enough for an Everest expedition guy, and too much reflective flair guy. However, that’s true with any sport. I’m sure my golf swing looks like I’m shoveling a pig pen. No doubt my basketball lay-up has all the grace of a fish being thrown on the Seattle dock. Certainly I’m not the person to be dispensing cycling tips.

How To Drop An Attackus-Nonstickus With AAD

In some cycling circles this bone head move is know as a Break-a-lame.  Some go so far as to call these riders Wad Blowers, or the more PC “natural sprinter.” Nothing ruins a group ride faster than a dolt who shoots off the front of a strong paceline causing everyone to surge and chase, only to have said dolt sit up when others reach the dolt’s wheel.  This particular syndrome is known to the cycling community as AAD, Attack And Die.  Symptoms include half-wheeling, increased time spent riding alone, chest thumping, frequent looking over one’s shoulder, moving left after their “attack” is done and they are in the “die” mode, riding with their knees out while attacking with hands on the hoods, the inability to hold a respectable fast speed for more than 14.3 seconds without needing a 5 minute recovery and a Clif Bar, and an over-zealous appreciation of high speed coasting. 

Those with AAD also didn’t get enough attention from their mommies.  If they weren’t going off the front and sitting up on your group ride they’d be shouting “get in the hole” at televised golf tournaments.  I consultultated (a George Bush term) with The Global Center For Naming Everything With Latin Lingo and they have approved a whole new animal kingdom sounding term for this dufus, Attackus-Nonstickus.  Women aren’t immune from AAD.  On occasion I have witnessed the female of the Attackus-Nonstickus species go all AAD on a group.  It’s very rare and just as unimpressive.  The Attackus-Nonstickus doesn’t realize that there’s no glory in an attack unless you can stick it to the end of the ride, the sprint sign or the coffee shop.  To attack and not stick it is like a football player fumbling the ball on the goal line…a shameful wasted effort.

If you encounter an Attackus-Nonstickus, first of all never give a hard chase.  The Attackus-Nonstickus, much like a 7^th grader pulling the fire alarm at school, thrives on attention.  By standing up and ramping up the speed to quickly close the gap you just fuel the fire, the cycling equivalent of dialing 9-1-1.  You also risk dropping riders you enjoy riding with.  By maintaining a steady tempo and gradually reeling in the Attackus-Nonstickus you don’t give them undue attention.  The best catch of an Attackus-Nonstickus is not to simply reach their wheel, but to just keep rolling by them like they aren’t even there.  It’s easy because they usually end up on the left after their non-sticking attack.  Even better, during the chase, arrange the order of the paceline so the weakest rider of the group is the one who ends up making the catch and the pass.  That leaves an Attackus-Nonstickus thinking “what the?” in their head as ninety-pound Nancy rolls on by.  If this technique fails to quash the spirits of the Attackus-Nonstickus, your next option is to systematically drop them from the ride.  While it does sound mean spirited, it opens up a whole new world of fun to those “in” on the drop. 

To accomplish this, let the Attackus-Nonstickus off the front at least 3 times.  Each of those three times reel them in as stated above.  However, on the 4^th attack, preferably at the farthest point form where you started or in a bad part of town reel them in steadily.  Before you make the catch, let your co-riders know you’re going to drill it.  Say something sly like “get ready to go.”  When you make the catch sit on the wheel of the Attackus-Nonstickus just long enough for them to feel as if they have tired you out.  Count to three bananas.  Let out a big sigh to solidify your bluff.  Now!  Swing out wide-right to the shoulder and drill it!  Go hard enough to get a gap but not so hard as to lose the riders behind you.  Now dial it up to donkey wheezing speed.  Even if the Attackus-Nonstickus managed to see the move, they won’t be able to grab the last spot in the paceline before they know what hit ‘em.  Now YOU got to stick it.  Hold it hard for one minute followed by a steady pace higher than the original pace of the ride.  Don’t look back for the next five minutes.  Since the Attackus-Nonstickus will be tired from their four hard efforts, has no idea that attacks can go up the right side of the road, and can’t hold a fast speed for more than 14.3 seconds, you will never see them again…at least until next week’s group ride.  

Facebook Friday: How Do You Prevent Yourself From Smashing The Bikes On Your Car Roofrack Into Your Garage Door

Yakima used to make a device called a “Load Alert.”  It’s an ingenious little device that sticks to your car's hood with a magnet.  It’s a spring loaded sign, that only pops up when your car goes under about 25mph.  Over 25, the presure from the wind holds it flat to the hood.  I have one.  It work great as long as you're not so hungry you pull into McDonalds drive-thru at 30mph.  Unfortantely we have two cars with bike racks. 

Another solution I read was to put your garbage cans in the front of the garage spot when you pull out.  That way you have to stop and move them before you pull in.  Brilliant.  And, if it still fails, you can just toss your rack and bike in the convenietly located garbage cans.

My wife nearly decapitated her Indy Fab this past week.  I saw it all unfold.  From the thrid floor, I heard the garage door open.  Being a good hubby, I started down the stairs to help her out.  As I got to the 2^nd floor, her car was already in the driveway and still rolling forward.  STOP.  STOP!!  I shouted out the open window.  Her windows rolled up and her on the phone, she couldn’t hear.  I broke into a full sprint, leaping down the last flight of stairs shouting, “STAAAAAHHHHHP!!!!”  Then, the crunch.  I opened the front door, expecting total carbon carnage.  Luckily the bike was just short enough and the garage overhang wood just soft enough that the bike barely wedged in.  

The only damage was to the wood of the garage overhang (see above photo of scatches) and the hinge pin of her heart rate monitor strapped to her handlebars.  Fhew.  Bike OK.  (photo left) Nothing ten bucks, a little garage paint and a trip to the watch repair shop wont fix.

Since I didn’t have a whole lot of time to write and research solutions, I posed the question to my Facebook friends.  How Do You Prevent Yourself From Smashing The Bikes On Your Car Roofrack Into Your Garage Door?  Here’s a few comments:

SUSAN 

Some kind of alarm system that smacks you in the face when 5 feet away or something. Had the same error about a week ago with a low-hanging ATM. Bike OK but bike rack pretty (messed) up.  The bike torqued the whole thing.  I was hurrying to do errands and get to a ride.

JADEN

Giant mirror above the garage door like they probably have on the ceilings at the Wild Wood Inn in Florence Y'all! 

SHANNON

Hang a sign from the inside of your garage door. When you press the door opener and the door opens, the sign will be hanging down, reminding you to check the car roof for bikes.

MITCH

Store all of your junk in the garage so you can't pull your car in.

 

How To: Take An Austin Powers Style Natural Correcto

The light at Camargo & Miami in Madiera turned red.  I zipped across anyway.  I had to take a natural.  Sorry, but the laws of nature supersede traffic law.  Right officer?  I knew this ride wasn’t going to let up for the next hour and the morning coffee was percolating.  Between here and the halfway sprint, I could foresee no other points where a pause in the action and a good pee place would intersect.  Figuring I had somewhere between 30 and 45 seconds of red light before the group would get back to business, I thought I’d be able to duck behind BioWheels bike shop, take care of business and either jump right back with the group as it passed or, if this were to be a grande natural, at the very least I’d catch ‘em on the descent.  I chased the group in full-on flat-backed heart grabbing donkey wheezing mode for the next 10 miles dangling between 50 and 300 meters.  I finally caught on in Loveland, only to get popped seconds later as the group punched a big climb at 23mph. Then I spent the next 5-7 miles chasing with a teammate who also got dropped on the climb all because I had to take a pee.  Have you seen my critical mistake?

I didn’t tell anyone I was going to take a natural.  What a doof I am.  Essentially I limited my potential bridge back on posse to the handful of people who saw me head up to the shop.  I had four teammates in the bunch, a few good friends, one of the Two John’s, and a bunch of others that know me well enough to give me the courtesy of holding up a bit for me to catch on.  Here’s what my antic’s looked like to the five people who saw me.  F*&%!  Joe just ran the red light.  He’s headed up to the bike shop.  Look like he’s probably ditching his knee warmers or something.  Oop, light’s green, let’s go.  At this point there are no thoughts of Joe, because the group of 25 or so is bombing down a hill at 30+mph, navigating a notoriously slippery set of angled railroad tracks followed by a 90 degree corner at the bottom.

Here’s what it was like from my perspective.  Oop, can’t pee here, looks like that’s wood for the shop renovation.  How ‘bout here?  Nope that’s Mitch’s car.  Can the neighbors see?  Who cares?  Get the front of your bibs down.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.   Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Did the light turn yet?   Ahhhhh. Ahhhhhhh. Ah.  Ah.  Ah.  Fhew!  Tuck in under jersey.  Pick up bike.  Clip in.  Where’d they go?  Oh F%^*!  They’re halfway down the hill.  Tuck and hammer.  Oh Sh&* the tracks.  Jam on brakes.  Cross.  Back up to speed.  Crap they’re around the corner.  Hammer.  Just 50 more meters.  Ugh, little bastard hill.  Dammit 100 meters. 

Like the directions on a shampoo bottle, so it went for the next 10-15 miles.  Close gap, stuck at light, hammer, repeat.  I finally caught the group in the next town, unfortunately 10 seconds before the major climb of the ride.  Still trying to choke back my heart & lungs, I was waxed and off the back in 20 seconds flat.  Here I went again, but this time I had the company of another dropped rider.  We tried in vain to catch on for the next 5-7 miles, but eventually the group got out of sight, we figured we missed a turn, and gave up the gootch. 

So to save you from making the same mistake, here’s how to take a Natural Correcto:

Step 1: Tell group you’re going to go, making this point right in front of the leader or veteran riders.  Maybe say something like, “Hey I’m gonna zip up here and take a pee.” 

Step 2: Ask a teammate to hold up to help you bridge back on. Maybe say something like, “Can you Andy, Brian and Matt hold up a bit to help me bridge back on, thanks man.”

Step 3: Take natural as quick as possible as waiting friends or teammates dangle off the back of the group.

Step 4: Time trial to your waiting teammates or friends and work together to bridge the rest of the way

Step 5: Return the favor later by keeping a teammate out of the wind or offering up half a Clif bar.