Maybe it was the Salmon…

Loren and Lyle descend Mont Lozere: I'm in the van.

Our tour of the Cevennes Mountains in France started on a Saturday afternoon. After a morning transfer from Montpellier to our first night’s hotel, we set up our rental bikes and went for a short spin along the Gorge du Tarn. The ride was about 20 miles and featured one 2 km climb that averaged in the 8-9% range.

I felt great. I had some jet lag, of course, but my legs were good and my appetite was good and I felt rested and ready to do the next 6 days of riding. The tour was going to be 350 miles over those 6 days, with around 29,000 feet of climbing. Not the hardest week I’ve ever done, but a significant amount of saddle time nonetheless. I had done the tour the previous year, and loved it so much I came back to do it again. So I knew what I was getting into.

We had a delightful dinner, and the ‘plat’ (main course) was salmon. I remember heading off to my room feeling excited and ready to ride.

When I woke up Sunday morning I did have a little discomfort in my stomach, but I put it off to nerves and jet lag. I ate breakfast and felt ok. We started off on our first ride around 9 am. This was going to be a spin along the Gorge, slightly uphill but no serious ascents. It was the easiest ride of the week, only 40 miles and a mere 2,100 feet of climbing.

I felt ok until around the last 7 miles. I started sweating a lot, even though the day was not especially hot. There was more humidity than I was used to. I felt like the water I was drinking was just sitting on the top of my stomach, and I had some digestive discomfort. I finished the ride and then experienced some REAL digestive distress. Decorum mandates I skip the details.

We all made it up Mont Aigoual. Mont Lozere was a different story.

I also skipped the delightful picnic lunch our hotel provided in their shaded courtyard behind the stone walls. I felt well enough to sit with my fellow cyclists but not well enough to enjoy the food.

Thus began my 3 day struggle to deal with being far from home and attempting to do long and challenging bike rides with a dubious digestion.

Monday’s ride was a long one, 73 miles and over 6,000 feet of climbing. We approached Mont Aigoual from the steep and deserted ‘back door’ road. After a fantastic descent we stopped for a picnic lunch. A good indicator of how I was feeling was that I ate only half of the delicious tuna rice salad which was the main course. But I made it all the way to the finish, up the Causse Mejean climb, across the windy plateau, and then down to Florac before the final climb back to our hotel. A little climb that felt like Mont Ventoux at the end of a long day. I took a shower and ate the rest of my tuna salad and drank a Perrier and then took a nap. At dinner that evening everything stayed where it was supposed to, so I had hopes that the trouble was past me.

No such luck. On Tuesday morning my stomach felt even worse. I picked at breakfast but I had no appetite at all. That day’s ride started with a 16 mile gentle climb (1-3% max) along another gorge. Lyle and Lauren and our guide John started off and from the very beginning I struggled to match their pace, which was gentle enough. But I found it impossible to stay with them. I was sweating even though the day was quite cool. My stomach felt bloated and drinking the water I needed to replace the perspiration losses made the bloating sensation worse. When we regrouped at the top of the gorge I told our other guide Gerry that I had to quit and ride in the van. I guess I looked awful enough that the guides were relieved I was stopping; no one tried to talk me into continuing the ride.

One reason I had to climb off is that the next 34 miles of the route was possibly the hardest part of the entire week. There is the 20 km climb of Mont Lozere to contend with. And then after a long descent there is another climb, easier and much shorter, up to the hotel, which is actually a castle dating back to the 13th century. Doing those miles when healthy is a challenge, and the way I felt it would have been impossible.

I feel much better! Stoker and I celebraate after our last ride in France.

I watched Lauren and Lyle and John do the climb from the side of the road and from inside the van as Gerry moved it along to offer water and gels as needed. I was completely discouraged. I felt like I had failed. I felt like I had wasted a lot of effort and money to make a long journey and then have to abandon a ride I am certainly able to do because I feel awful. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to ride the rest of the tour or do any tandem riding with Diane. It was looking like it was going to be a miserable two weeks.

That evening’s dinner was the worst. I still felt awful, perhaps even worse than when I got off of the bike. I picked at my duck confit, and ate almost none of the excellent roasted potatoes that accompanied it. I left the table before dessert, asking John to explain to the hotel owner (who served dinner) why I didn’t eat his excellent food, and then went to my room. Diane was in Paris doing a tour before coming to join me for a week of tandem riding when my Cevennes Tour ended. I hadn’t told her anything about my problem but that night I needed someone to tell me everything was ok even though I wasn’t. I couldn’t call her because there was no cell service in the isolated castle we were staying at. But there was WIFI, so we exchanged texts and that made me feel a little better. It was a bit selfish of me to worry her when she couldn’t do anything to help, but her support was about the only thing good about that day.

The story has a happy ending, as you know if you have seen the posts about our tandem week together. On Wednesday I got on my bike for the ‘recovery’ day (47 miles and 4,100 feet, some recovery) and I did fine, feeling better as the ride went on. I even matched Lauren on the climb back to the hotel, and I know she was trying to drop me even though she might not admit it. That night I actually enjoyed dinner for the first time since the salmon. I did all the rest of the rides on the Cevennes Tour and followed that up with 5 days of fantastic tandem riding with Diane. And during that entire time I ate everything in sight and drank red wine (in moderation) and felt wonderful.

So it was a stomach bug, or mild food poisoning, or some bad fish, or who knows what? I’m certainly not the first person to suffer digestive trouble while travelling. And if I hadn’t been doing something as difficult as trying to ride a bike up some major mountains I probably wouldn’t have been so severely affected. But next time (and Diane and I are already thinking about ‘next time’) I think I might avoid the salmon.

 

 

 

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Our Modestine

The finish of our first ride in Nimes

 

Last year before I travelled to France to do a cycling tour in the Cevennes, I read Robert Louis Stevenson’s book Travels in the Cevennes with a Donkey. Before he was famous Stevenson spent 12 days hiking the region with his donkey named Modestine, and developed a great affection for this stubborn, clever and ultimately noble beast of burden.

Stoker and I found our own Modestine, thanks to the touring company 44|5. When I rode with them last year, I remarked how many of the roads around Nimes and Provence were possible for us to do on a tandem, unlike the more severe climbs in the Cevennes Mountains. Since 44|5 puts together custom tours as well as their week long ‘High Roads’ trips, I told them that if they could find us an acceptable tandem to rent I would really like to bring Diane here for what I was sure would be some fantastic tandem riding. 44|5 did it, and that is how we met the bike that we immediately dubbed ‘Modestine’.

Rolling through Provence

Our Modestine is a Cannondale tandem, and she is completely different from our CoMotion. Her frame is aluminum (not steel), she has Shimano 105 shifters (not Ultegra) and the heaviest wheels with the widest road bike tires I have ever seen. We use 25 mm width tires on our CoMotion, and Modestine had to be sporting tires size 32 mm or more. They looked like small motorcycle tires.

Modestine was built to handle ‘loaded touring’, where cyclists carry all their gear for multi day trips with them. So she was delivered to us with racks both front and rear, which I took off to save weight, since we didn’t need to carry much stuff. Even so, when I picked her up I estimated the weight at least 40 lbs. which is about 8 lbs. more than our CoMotion. And her wheels, besides being heavy. had too many spokes to count. More spokes means more air resistance, making our heavy, slow rental bike even slower.

Trying to set up Modestine to match our riding positions proved to be a challenge. The frame was too small for me to put my saddle at my preferred distance from the handlebar. Our guide left me with tools, but unfortunately the tape measure was in the other tool bag. Stoker had, of all things, brought along a sewing kit that had a measuring tape (metric no less!), but it was too short to measure my saddle height. So I used a piece of dental floss and the tape to measure a piece 74 cm long, and used that to set my saddle height.

When we finally got Modestine out on the road, we mostly got along fine. The bike was incredibly hard to get going because of the weight and the wheels, but once up to speed she rolled along nicely. The ride was shockingly comfortable; those wide tires really dampen road vibration and bumps. There was a big problem which I discovered the first time I tried to do a U turn. Modestine had severe toe overlap, which means that if I turned the front wheel a little too far to either side the tire would hit my foot. So if I had to pedal to keep the bike moving while making a sharp turn I kept hitting the tire, which limited how sharply I could turn. This also threatened to cause us to fall over if I misjudged a turn. I sort of got used to this but it was a real irritant.

One climb that is decidely 'not tandem friendly'. We passed.

Donkeys are known to be stubborn, and Modestine was no exception. Her shifting was just fine on the back, but shifting the front derailleur was an adventure. She simply did not want to go from the granny back to the middle ring. She would occasionally stay in the granny, or overshift from the granny into the big ring, which left us in a gear too big  for the conditions. And once she dropped the chain on the inside when I tried to shift into the granny gear. This is a tandem team’s worst shifting nightmare. We are riding slowly up a hill and need that low gear, and suddenly our chain is off and we are rapidly approaching zero mph. Fortunately I was able to unclip fast and get a foot down and hold up the bike without dropping us to the pavement, but it was a close call.

But overall Stoker and I would give Modestine pretty high marks. We used her to do 5 rides through the most beautiful cycling country we have ever seen or are likely to see. And she got the job done. Tandems are pretty unusual in France and we got interested looks and comments multiple times. At Pont du Gard one tourist asked us to pose for a picture using sign language, since we couldn’t understand him. As we posed we immediately had 10 others snapping away at the unique sight of a road tandem with two Americans on board. Our guide Gerry chimed out “5 Euro!” which apparently is the going rate for staged photo ops, but we did it for nothing.

After our last ride I removed our pedals and saddles from Modestine and reinstalled her racks. We left her in the locked courtyard of our hotel, waiting for her bike shop owners to come pick her up and deliver her to her next pair of riders. We actually said goodbye, out loud. Whoever rides her in the future might well be stronger than Stoker and me, but no one will have more fun with her than we did. And we may see her again next year. Toe overlap, uncertain shifting, slow wheels and all.

 

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The Serviette Serves Its Purpose

Before the storm on the way to Sault

 

At the finish of the ride, in the courtyard of our lovely hotel ‘Le Siecle’ in Mazan, our guide John and Diane (Stoker) and I were a little giddy with relief at having survived relatively unscathed. I broke out the video camera on my phone and asked Stoker to tell us how she managed to get down the mountain without freezing. She demonstrated, saying “ I took my serviette (napkin in French) and put it in here”, while unzipping her jersey and showing us exactly where ‘in here’ meant. As John and I shook with laughter she reminded us that “It had hamburger grease on it!”.

 

Two hours earlier none of us was laughing. We were at our lunch stop in Sault, halfway through the ride. The journey from Mazan to Sault via the Gorges de la Nesque that morning had been the most beautiful ride we had ever done on the tandem. Unbelievable scenery with the Gorge on our right getting deeper and deeper as we worked our way up to the summit. And the weather was fine too, sunny and cool with almost no wind. In fact, it had been so warm at the 8 am ride start, and the chance of anything but hot conditions seemed so remote, that we left all our rain gear home. Stoker had arm warmers along, but John and I wore short sleeves and didn’t bring anything else. Neither Stoker nor I even bothered with a base layer.

The road from Mazan to Sault has considerable climbing for a tandem. First a false flat to the start of the Gorge, then a 4 km climb at about 5%, followed by another 10 km varying between 1% and 6%, mostly toward the low end of the range. In short, a perfect tandem climb, and since we were doing the ride as an out and back, we were going to get to do this as a downhill ride on the return. We were looking forward to that. But we didn’t get a chance to enjoy it.

Clouds and Mountains mean Trouble

After the Gorge there is a downhill stretch followed by a pretty steep 2 km climb up into Sault. This was a bit of a challenge but Stoker and I were motivated by the prospect of lunch, so we powered up and chowed down. We sat outside on a covered terrace and enjoyed fantastic hamburgers and fries and a small salad. The burgers and fries were as good as any I’ve ever had at home.

At this point things started to get dicey. Clouds had been advancing towards us throughout the meal, and as we were deciding about coffee there was a flash of lightening and a boom of thunder, followed by a downpour. We decided to delay our departure and have coffee, but things did not look good. The clouds appeared to be coming towards us from the north and moving toward the south, which was the direction we had to ride to get back to our starting point. And of course we had nothing to put on for protection. Stoker could cover her arms, and she put her serviette ‘in there’ but if we had to do 40 km of cold and wet and mostly downhill road in a driving rain we were going to have problems.

We got going as soon as there was a break in the deluge, but as we started the steep descent from Sault the skies opened up and we got drenched. There was a sign flashing the temperature as 12 C, which is 54 F. That is not warm enough to be doing a long descent in a soaking wet short sleeved jersey.

We rode hard on the climb back to the summit where the descent started, so hard that we didn’t even use our granny gear. And we got out in front of the rain and started to feel a little warmer and a little more optimistic that we were going to make it. But then there was some more thunder and a few more drenching downpours, and about half way down John asked if we wanted to stop and take cover. That seemed like a bad idea, since we could see blue sky in front of us, and really dark clouds behind us, and moving toward us. So Stoker and I said let’s ride, and we did. We got out ahead of the storm and pretty soon it was warmer and the descent was over and I knew we were going to get back without becoming hypothermic.

So when it was done, we could laugh about it. Stoker hates to ride in bad weather and rarely is forced to do so, but this was one of those times. The conditions qualified as ‘Rule 9’ weather. Rule 9 states that “If you are out riding in bad weather, then you are a bad a…, period”. Stoker met the Rule 9 criteria for certain, and with nary a complaint nor a whimper. Bad A.. Stoker indeed!

 

 

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ToC HC for G Man

Cat 4 KOM: Hawk and G Man

ToC is short for the Tour of California, an 8 day bicycle race brought to you by the major biopharmaceutical company Amgen. Among their many fine products which help save lives is Epogen, aka EPO, the cheating  cyclist’s best friend. The irony is dripping enough to ease California’s drought.

I like to keep this blog upbeat, so I’m not going to write a lot about performance enhancing drugs and pro cycling. I’ve read many books and articles and investigative reports, and I have come to the conclusion that to follow professional bicycle racing one needs to have a ‘willing suspension of disbelief’. That is, enjoy the show and don’t ask too many difficult questions.

And the show is currently close at hand. On Monday the ToC finished in Lodi, practically in my back yard. And yesterday two buddies and I decided to see part of the mountainous course and the race up close and personal.

HC is short for Hors catégorie , a French term used in cycle races to designate a climb that is “beyond categorization”. In bicycle racing, climbs are designated from Category from 1 to 4, with 4 being the easiest. The designation HC is reserved for the toughest of the tough, long and steep and a real challenge for racers and amateurs alike.

G Man's First Time at the Top

There are a couple of HC climbs in this year’s ToC, the closest to home being the east side of Mount Hamilton just outside of San Jose. G Man and Hawk and I decided to drive to Raines Park and ride our bikes 27 miles to the Mount Hamilton summit. To get there we had to start with ‘The Wall’ a very steep part of Del Puerto Canyon Road.  ‘The Wall’ is 2 miles long and averages 8.3 %, with brief pitches up to 17%. And there was a raging headwind to add to the fun. Call it a Cat 1.

After the Junction at San Antonio Valley Road we were on the actual race route, and we rode over two short but steep Cat 4 climbs on our way to Isabella Creek, where the HC Mount Hamilton climb starts. 4.3 miles, averaging 8.6%. Steeper (but not as long) than Alpe d’ Huez, the famous climb often seen in the Tour de France. I’ve been on harder climbs, among them the Mortirolo and the Stelvio Pass in Italy, Mont Ventoux in France and Mount Baldy in Southern California, which will be in the ToC later this week. But Mount Hamilton is right up there, literally up, 4,200 feet at the top.

A Selfie at the Mount Hamilton KoM: Elevation 4,200

After filling our water bottles and admiring the view, we headed back down the mountain to a prime viewing spot on a hairpin turn.  We could see the racers from 3 miles away work their way up the ascent. Which they did, riding roughly twice as fast as our climbing speed. One pro’s Strava showed he did the climb in 22 minutes and change, and I know I was at least 45 minutes and probably more.  Hawk and I stopped once because we wanted to regroup with G Man, who is a little slower uphill and had never done this climb. But he made it without walking, and in fine style too.

The race took at least 20 minutes to get past our viewing spot. First came a lone breakaway rider, who eventually won the stage. He was pursued by 3 riders 1 1/2 minutes behind. Later came a small peloton, then the stragglers (called the ‘gruppeto’) of sprinters and lead out riders whose only goal was to make it to the finish before the time cut off and avoid being eliminated from the race. Even they were climbing quite fast by mortal standards.

Finally we were passed by the ‘broom wagon’ (a van for riders abandoning the race), an ambulance, an official ‘end of course’ car and a CHP van at the very back, designating  that the road was now open to traffic. We got on our bikes and rode back to the car. By the end of the day we had done 2 Cat 4′s, a Cat 1, and an HC: 54 miles total with 6,300 feet of climbing. The pros had to do something similar the next day, and for several days after that. They are world class athletes and I’m just enthusiastic, but riding the same climb and then watching them go by really emphasizes just how wide that gap is.

When G Man left my house to drive home, Stoker commented that she had seldom seen anyone look so happy. He had good cause; he had never been up Mount Hamilton and before the ride he was a little dubious about being able to make it. But he did, even though it was hard for him (and me too). We may not be pros but we win little victories every time we meet a new challenge, and on this day G Man bagged a big one.

 

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Don’t Bug Me!

It didn't want to share the road!

 

On Monday I was feeling a little bored, a little worried, and a little sorry for myself. So I decided to go for a bike ride. A particular type of bike ride, a ‘recovery’ ride.

I rode pretty hard on Saturday, up Stoney Creek Road and then did  Middle Bar Road, a steep bumpy descent followed by a steep bumpy climb. Then on Sunday I did 49 miles with Stoker on the tandem. I normally would not ride on Monday, but I decided to attempt to improve my mood with a little ‘cyclo-therapy’. It worked.

A recovery ride simply means that you ride a relatively short distance at an easy pace. For me that is about 20 flat miles at around 17 mph. It is sometimes called ‘active recovery’ and is supposed to be a better way to recuperate from some hard days of riding than staying off of the bike entirely. The jury is still out on whether this is the case, but there is a more important reason to do a recovery ride: it is fun! Getting out on the bike and easily rolling along, enjoying the weather and the feel of a nice road bike working perfectly and silently is great therapy. And you feel strong when you finish, as opposed to the near collapse state of some more difficult workouts or challenging, competitive club rides.

So I’m spinning along with a slight tailwind just west of Micke Grove Park when a bee or wasp or some stinging creature hits my sunglasses, bounces onto my knee and decides he dislikes the experience and makes his displeasure known with a sharp sting. Ouch! I stopped pedaling and tried to remove the stinger but I think it was a bite and run job. I kept riding and eventually the pain faded. My knee doesn’t hurt today, but it does itch and is noticeably swollen.

Bees and Bike Riders: the Aftermath

Bees, wasps, ants, stinging ‘no see ‘ems’ type bugs that sneak in under the open zipper of your jersey; I’ve been attacked by all of them when out on my bike. The most dramatic was on a tandem ride when a wasp got under my helmet and nailed me 4 times while we were descending a hill at around 35 mph. I had to bring the bike safely to a stop, unclip and get Stoker to do the same, before I had a chance to remove my helmet and stop the assault on my balding pate. The swollen lumps lasted for days.

Another time, also on a tandem ride, a bee hit me right on the bridge of my nose and stung me hard. The accompanying photo shows the damage, all the soft tissue around my eyes and nose swelled up like the result of  a collagen injection gone horribly wrong.  No one will confuse me with Brad Pitt or George Clooney under the best of circumstances, but this was ridiculous.

Bugged by aggressive, irritated drivers or bugged by aggressive irritated bugs: the roads are not always cycling friendly.

 

 

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A TT on a FF

The Measuring Stick for a TT

 

Cyclists and cycling fans know that TT is short for Time Trial. This is the simplest form of racing, where individual riders start at specified intervals and try to get from Point A to Point B in the shortest time. No drafting, no strategy, no teamwork, no wheel sucking; just go as hard as you can and the quickest rider wins. A TT is also called the ‘Race of Truth’, since presumably it reveals who the strongest rider really is.

Cyclists also recognize term ‘false flat’ (FF). This refers to a road that looks level but is actually slightly uphill. The gradient is undetectable to the eye but is obvious on the speedometer. A false flat uphill is some of the most frustrating pavement a cyclist can ride. Your eyes think you should be spinning along easily at 20+mph, and but your Garmin says you are barely doing 14 and breathing very hard to do even that.

Last Saturday, my friend Paul G and I headed to Murphys to do Mister Frog’s Wild Ride. The route is a hilly 60 miles with many climbs, none of them terribly long but some pretty steep, and adding up to around 5,400 feet of ascent for the day. One interesting feature of this ride is that it offers riders an opportunity to compete in a TT on part of the course. This is completely voluntary; if you do not want to be timed you do not have to be. Last year the time trial was only about 0.6 of a mile, but it was all uphill at around 7%. It took me 3:14, which was good enough to finish 8th out of 66 riders who chose to try the TT.

This year’s TT was completely different. For one thing, it started very near the end of the ride, at Rest Stop 4.  The course was just under 6 miles on Murphy’s Grade Road heading east. There was only 600 feet of elevation gain, which works out to a 1.9% average grade. And I’m pretty sure it is never steeper that 3%. A road like this is a prototypical FF: it looks level, but the slight uphill is a real irritant. I felt like I was working hard enough to be rolling along at around 22 mph, but the speedometer was stuck in the 14-17 range.

When I got to the last rest stop, where the TT started, I was pretty tired and really hungry. Since I had already ridden 51 miles and climbed 4,800 feet that should be no surprise. But after eating some grapes and a fig bar and some tortilla chips I decided to give the TT a shot, instead of pedaling leisurely back to Murphys. I made a big effort and was able to average 15.9 mph, and it took me 21:59 to get to the finish. This year I was 16th out of the 87 riders who decided to participate. Not terrible, not great. The winner did the course in 18:06, and the median time was 26:06, so I was a long way from the bottom.

I will never be a racer, mostly because I am not really strong enough but also because I don’t want to risk a crash caused by someone else. Or even worse, me causing someone else to crash. But I do like to challenge myself occasionally, seeing how fast I can do a climb, or how many watts I can average for 30 minutes, or sprinting for the sign at the top of ‘Mount Wallace’ (I always lose that one; I’m no sprinter).  A casual TT is perfect for that, and I’m glad I tried, even if it proves what I already know about how strong I’m not.

 

 

 

 

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These Go To Eleven…

New Local Shop: Service and Smoothies and Specialized

In case you were confused by the subject line, that is a very famous quote from the movie ” This Is Spinal Tap”. I’ve seen that flick at least a dozen times and it still makes me laugh.

But it applies to my new bike. Recall that my friend Steve was test riding my Tallerico for a couple of weeks and really wanted to purchase it. I wasn’t going to sell it, but a different bike practically fell into my lap and tempted me. Here is the story.

Around the end of February I became aware that there is a new bike shop in Lodi. I decided to check it out, and I met Ken Dovak. He owns the shop with his wife Ashley, and he is also doing all the service and repairs. The shop is pretty well stocked with the basics of tubes, tires, tools, etc., and he has a selection of cruiser, city and BMX bikes, along with some entry-level Specialized road bikes. He can also do special orders of many more items. So far the quality of the service work is excellent, repairs are done correctly and finished at the time promised.  I’m happy to have someone close to home and knowledgeable to take my bikes to for the repairs and upgrades that I can’t do myself. Ken’s wife Ashley runs the smoothie/juice bar, and I’ve enjoyed a delicious concoction there on a couple of occasions. Salads and wraps are on the menu too.

Fast Bike, Slow Rider

I  brought in a wheel for Ken to fix a broken spoke, and we were talking about his plan to become a ‘Specialized S-Works Dealer’. That would be a very big deal; Specialized sets very high standards for their top dealers and requires them to keep significant inventory of high end bikes in stock, something that is not always easy for a local shop to do. Then Ken mentioned that he had a bike for sale, but he wasn’t advertising it yet. It was an S-Works Tarmac, and it just happened to be my size.

The Tarmac is Specialized’s road race bike, and the ‘S-Works’ is the pro level model. A couple of  professional teams at the highest level of road racing ride the same frame. The bike has a reputation of being very stiff (a good thing) and either somewhat harsh to painfully rough, depending on who is writing the review. The bike is equipped with SRAM Red 11 speed components, while all of my other bikes are Shimano Dura Ace 10 speed. These go to eleven….

The bike is crazy light. It weighs 14.9 lbs. including the pedals, bottle cages and computer mounts. And the wheels are very nice but far from cutting edge light. A high end set of wheels could easily drop another 1/3 of a pound. My Tarmac is stiff and quick handling, but after 200 miles on the bike I do not think it is excessively harsh at all. I feel more road vibration than on my titanium bike or my Look 586, but it is not unpleasant. I’m not sure a double century rider would want to spend a 12-16 hour day on this bike, but since my limit is around 6 hours of riding a day and most of my rides are ‘only’ 3 hours, that is not an issue.  And the bike is really fun to ride.

A Pro Frame for a Club Rider

Most nice bikes are of course, and the Tallerico certainly was. But now everybody is happy; Steve has a bike that is a big improvement and makes him much faster, Bikes and Bites sold a high end bike, and I have a ‘new to me’ bike to ride and compare to my other bikes. And while I’m happily married to one great woman, when it comes to bikes I’m a confirmed polygamist. I think one spouse and three road bikes are enough, but you never know. About the bikes, that is.

 

 

 

 

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Next Left Brumby Road!

This one is titled 'I Don't Believe It!". My favorite 'Tommy'

My former favorite Tommy: "I Don't Believe It!"

Sometimes it seems as if everything that happens to Stoker and me has a cycling connection. Case in point..

There was an art gallery in Lockeford called ‘Captain Mike’s Outsider Art’. Stoker and I drove by it many times on our way to rides starting in the hills. But one day we were riding our tandem from home  and our route went through Lockeford.  We peeked in for a look and found a painting we were interested in. The piece was reasonably priced and we both agreed it would look good in our house. So later that day Stoker went back and purchased it.

That is how we acquired our first ‘Tommy’. ’TV- Tommyvision’ is how he signs his work. Stoker and I are not art experts, although she minored in art history as an undergraduate. We find his art quirky, colorful, and entertaining. His style is distinctive and not for everybody or for every home, but we both love the ones we have purchased. There are a couple that make me smile every time I see them. We have since acquired a total of 8 ‘Tommys”, most directly from the artist. He puts a picture up on Facebook, we decide we like it, and he sends it to us.

Diane and I both mentioned to ‘TV’ (that is how he identifies himself on the phone) that we would never presume to tell him what to create, but if he was inspired to do something with a tandem bicycle motif, we would be practically certain to purchase it. He said he didn’t really like to work that way, and Diane said we understood perfectly.

But a couple of weeks later TV called and asked if we were going to be home next week, because he was sending us something as a surprise. When we opened the box, look what we found: He titled it ‘Next Left, Brumby Road!”

Next Left, Brumby Road!

Needless to say, Stoker and I love it.  TV has created for us a 6 seat bicycle, with Rich and Diane aided by a goat (we have had 5 pet goats over the years), a ‘Luke-like’ dog, a cat (we’ve had 6, down to one now) and a mouse just for fun. And fun is what this piece of art is, at least to us.

Tommy just said if we liked it we should send him a check for what we thought was appropriate, and based on the thank you card we received he was happy with the amount. But I think he was even more happy to be able to create something that brought us some real joy. ‘Next Left’ hangs at the end of the hall where we each see it many times each day, and we hope it will bring us smiles for many years to come. Thanks TV!

And none of this would have happened if we had not stopped in Lockeford during a bike ride.

Rich, Stoker, goat, dog, cat and mouse. Coming to a club ride near you!

 

 

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Tuesday Tire Trouble

No Coffee Today!

 

Last Tuesday, Stoker and I were doing another hilly ride getting ready for our upcoming trip to France. And we were feeling great. The CoMotion had a problem with the rear disc rotor that the owner/mechanic at Bikes and Bites, Lodi’s new shop, had detected and fixed. What had been happening is that the two-piece rotor was rubbing against the caliper arms outside of the brake pads. A shiny spot on each of the spider arms showed that we were suffering a small amount of drag with each wheel rotation. Small yes, but when we started to ride with the drag-free replacement rotor, we certainly thought we noticed a difference.

So things are going well. We feel strong, we are pretty much keeping up with some of the ‘biker chicks’ (it is their own name, so refrain from accusing me of being a male chauvinist), and we are climbing the hill up the face of Hogan Dam, almost 20 miles into the ride. We are only 2 miles from Common Grounds, one of our favorite coffee break stops, and Stoker and I are trying to choose between splitting a chicken pesto panini or a breakfast burrito. Both delicious. Decisions, decisions…

Psst! Air hisses from our rear tire, which goes rapidly flat. We stop and as I’m getting repair tools and supplies out of the saddle bag, Stoker lets me know that she has found the hole.  And wow, what a hole it is. Take a look.

I didn’t remember hitting anything, and the tread of the tire did not look excessively worn to me. So either I ran over something sharp or the tire casing simply failed.  Either way, I am going to have to put a ‘boot’ inside the tire.

At the suggestion of a fellow club member, I decided to use some cardboard from the box the new tube came out of. In fact, I used two layers to cover the hole. I pumped up the new tube and crossed my fingers. That hole was pretty big, and even though Stoker is a small person and I’m not excessively heavy, there is quite a bit of weight on the rear tire of a tandem.

We decided to take the shortest route back to the car, and skip the break; no burrito for us. We’ve got about 15 miles to go. We rode 9 of them before we heard another Psst! Now what?

Here is where it is nice to ride with a club and have a friend who will help when there is a problem. One rider had followed us to make sure we got back ok. He saw we needed a lift, so he rode his bike back to the cars and then drove to pick us up.

For some reason this member wishes to remain anonymous. He is afraid this kind gesture will undo his hard won (and occasionally well deserved) reputation as a curmudgeon. So I cannot  give him the public credit he deserves. But be assured that he received profuse thanks from Stoker and me, and the next time I saw him I presented him with a very nice Jessie’s Grove ‘Old Vines’ Zinfandel in appreciation for his Good Samaritan action.

I’ve done similar good deeds. Once I drove 20 miles to pick up a rider who had his frame break. Another time I rode 35 very slow miles to make sure a new rider who did not know the route didn’t get lost. So maybe we had some good karma working for us.

I got some grief afterwards for allegedly trying to stretch the mileage of a worn out tire, but everyone who knows me is aware that I do not skimp on equipment or maintenance. Tandem tires do go from ‘looks fine’ to completely worn out very quickly, sometimes in the middle of a ride. At which time it is great to have friends who look out for you, anonymous or not.

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Would You Buy a Used Bike from this Man?

1990's bike tech: Softride comfort over performance

My friend Steve is a relatively new retiree, and has become a regular on the Tuesday and Thursday club rides in the foothills starting in Wallace. The bike he has ridden for years is heavy and inefficient. It has a frame designed around a ‘soft ride’ saddle beam. Between the heavy weight (23 lbs.) and the inefficiency of the bouncing beam and poor aerodynamics of the frame, he was losing at least ½ mph.

 

I told that to Steve, and he said yes, maybe so, but the bike was comfortable and he didn’t really think there was that much difference.

I have been urging him to ride one of my three road bikes to see what a difference a more up to date bike would make.  My ‘Tallerico’ is a carbon frame with a custom paint  job. It is a very nice bike, with full Dura Ace components (including the wheels). It is a little smaller than my other bikes, and it fits Steve just fine. The bike weighs 16.7 lbs. and is a very nice ride. Not as nice as my LOOK 586, but still very nice.

Finally, about a month ago, Steve took me up on my offer, so we swapped out my pedals for his, adjusted the saddle and seatpost height, and he started riding it. I think he liked it: he sent me an e mail saying “Your bike is light.  And it goes uphill like a rabid mountain goat on amphetamines.” He also said “I am now a true believer”; lighter and more aerodynamic bikes are faster.

16.7 lbs. of 2011 bike tech: Light and quick

He said he wanted to buy it. I laughed, and said it wasn’t for sale, but told him to keep riding it for a while. My only motivation was for him to discover just how slow his other bike was and how much he needed a new one.

The next week he said he had his checkbook and would pay a fair price. He really liked the bike and didn’t want to have to go bike shopping when he could buy such a nice bike without any searching. We talked to a neutral and knowledgeable third party, who put the value at what I thought was a pretty high level, but Steve was still was very interested. I was tempted, but while I don’t really ‘need’ three bikes, I ‘want’ three bikes.

But then, through a sequence of unlikely events, I found a new (lightly used) bike I wanted to buy. So I sent Steve an email, settling the price of the bike at around 10% below the bottom of the range set by our ‘consultant’ and Steve agreed to buy it. With alacrity; he really wanted the bike and he got a good deal.

So I said goodbye to one bike. This is the first bike I have ever sold. I rode it around 8,500 miles over the three years I had it. And hello to my new, and completely different, third bike. To be continued….

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    Rich Freggiaro

    Richard Freggiaro is a Stockton area native who grew up on his family’s farm. After an nine year detour to Davis for College, Washington DC for work, and Iowa for graduate school, he returned to San Joaquin County and spent the next quarter century farming with his father. He has been married to Diane for 31 years. He is (mostly) retired which leaves him plenty of time to ride each of his 4 bikes, and he is an enthusiastic and passionate cyclist. Read Full
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