Bike fitting

You probably thought you’d never forget how to ride a bike. Yet, I’ve recently found out that this is not entirely accurate. You may not forget how to ride on two wheels, but riding efficiently and using the right leg muscles, while the rest of the body remains still, is something different. Our body changes constantly, and our way of riding adapts to this change. This is what I learned last week, when after a year and 8 months since purchasing my first road bicycle, I finally realized that I needed another fitting. 

This is what my bike looked like when I bought it.

A number of reasons convinced me to do it. First, it was the saddle: it started hurting after a couple of hours. Then, it was shoulder tension: it would increase to the point that the entire upper body would be in pain. Finally, it was my endurance on the road, which seemed to decrease, the more miles I invested in riding. Of course, I didn’t expect that changing the position of my hands relatively to the seat and the seat relatively to the pedals—the three points of contact we normally have with the bike—would resolve all of my problems. I knew I would have to do a lot of work on my own.

I arranged to see Kevin Bailey, the bicycle-fitting guru at BikeNüt. Kevin knows that bicycle fitting consists of a lot more than matching diagrams and key body dimensions. When we ride, we move, and the fitting must be dynamic rather than a static one.

Kevin attached my bike to a trainer and watched me ride for a while. He adjusted the handlebar to modify slightly my hold on it. He made sure that my shoulder joints were properly aligned with my hands. That adjustment made it more comfortable for me to hold the drops, a position I usually found comfortable for only a few minutes at a time.

New handlebar position

Kevin then observed that my back was slightly rounded, forming an awkward angle between my pelvis and the saddle. He eased the saddle back on the post by almost an inch, giving me more room to expand my lungs and relieve the pressure on my lower back. He also made me perform a few stretches on the floor, to make sure that my posture on the bike matched what I would normally achieve, when my muscles were warm and relaxed.

Old saddle position.

New position.

By far the biggest chunk of time, however, was spent on my leg motion, checking the angle formed by the femur and the tibia at the knee was the ideal one to allow the leg to spin the pedals without wasted effort. It sounds so simple, but during the fitting session I discovered that my bones are of different sizes in my right and left legs. I also had developed the habit of moving on the saddle quite a bit, changing frequently the amount of power I was able to develop. Finding an ideal position for my pelvis against the back of the seat eliminated that silly habit.

Much more relaxed on the bike.

Finally, Kevin checked the alignment of my hips, knees, ankles, and feet, even checking that my shoes provided the correct amount of arch support. Pushing against the pedals with misaligned joints not only disperses a lot of the power but also develops long-term problems, such as knee pain.

A lot of this sounds like going to the doctor for the yearly physical and, well, it is. Also, like with the doctor, I felt relieved to be out the shop and back on the bike. Yet, I immediately noticed how weird it felt; my body position had changed, and so had my hands, seat, and feet. As I have discovered during the past week and a half, this is a good kind of weird.

The bike as it is now. After 20 months, only the frame remains the same.

I am still adjusting to the changes, and sometimes, after a ride, it feels as if I am developing a whole new set of muscles. I had been using my quads for most of the time, and now, after the fitting, I put more effort in my glutei maximi. I develop more power with less effort. By keeping my back more straight, I allow my lungs to work more efficiently (less hard breathing on the hills) and the seat doesn't hurt. Finally, I hold the drops for longer periods of time for added leverage, even while climbing, something I had never done before.

In theory, minimizing my effort on the bike should allow me to go faster and be less tired doing it. Well, let’s just say that I’m still testing this theory.

Wheels

We take a lot of pride in our craftsmanship. It’s true, we don’t actually manufactures the frames, rims, tyres, shifters, derailleurs, and so on. We put all of these components together in a complete bike, ready for the road. It is in this deceptively simple set of operations, putting things together and making sure that they all work, that we choose to manifest the quality of our craftsmanship and our creativity.

This is a process, not a single operation, and is anything but simple. All of these parts were not made by a single manufacturer but by many from different cultural backgrounds, standards of quality, and objectives. And so we must select the components that are most appropriate for specific purposes, such as for example, go for the wheel spokes that make the ride smooth for commuting, rather than those that would be the pick for speed. How important is weight? How relevant is durability? What is the bottom line? Once these components coexist in a coherent whole, they must be pleasing to the eyes of our customers and, of course, our own.

Our customers are like us: not entirely satisfied with what comes off the shelves, they want to put their own stamp on things. We like experimenting, trying out new components, tinkering with them, talking to manufacturers about their next new big thing, getting prototypes into our shop and putting them on our bikes. Knowledge and experience are dynamic.

Take these two sets of wheels, for example. The wheels made by Ambrosio, an Italian manufacturer, have an outstanding reputation for reliability in the world of pro cycling. For years, they were a regular presence in the Paris-Roubaix spring classic race.

We have taken their rims, made of alloy with finished braking surfaces, and laced them with DT Swiss aerolite white spokes. 

These spokes are double butted and bladed, ensuring elasticity (read comfort) together with aerodynamic efficiency on the road. We also rely on DT Swiss hubs, our workhorse, that is light, sturdy, pleasing to our eyes, affordable, and extremely reliable.

Not all of our bikes are road machines. A large section of our customers also rides on the dirt trails of the Bay Area and elsewhere. Some of us, not all, even prefer mountain bikes to road bikes. The world of mountain bikes is in no way simpler than that of road bikes, and its lexicon is, if anything, a tad more complex.

Jumping over boulders or doing wheelies on the trails is not something we typically associate with carbon-fiber wheels. Understandably, these riders don’t want something that requires particular attention and withstands the stresses of the ride. During the past few years, however, carbon-fiber has infiltrated the mountain-bike world, traditionally populated with alloys.

The main feature of this wheel set is their carbon-fiber rims, made by DT Swiss. They are XRC 330, their cross-race rims, where the C stands for carbon fiber. No, you won’t find this particular model either online or in the DT Swiss catalogue. We managed to get hold of a set of them. We laced them with DT Swiss aerolite spokes and also equipped them with DT Swiss 240s hubs.

Why are wheels so important to us, that we are willing to spend so many hours making sure they are what we need and want? The canned answer would be that wheels are important because they connect us to the surface of the earth. In reality, there are no parts in our bikes that are more important then others. We need our wheels as we need our frames, handlebars, and everything else we need; we want all of them to be just right. Yet, we can't help thinking that, everything else being equal, it is the wheels that make the difference in the way we ride.

Tour of California, stage 3, San Francisco to Santa Cruz

Bravo, Dave Zabriskie, stage winner!

Actually, Levi Leipheimer and Michael Rogers, who were in a sprint with Zabriskie, were not so bad either!

Catlike Whisper

This year, two Grand Tour teams sport that distinctive look on  their heads: Euskaltel Euskadi and Cervélo. How shall we define that look? Brainy, perhaps? To me, the Catlike Whisper helmets make those tops look like giant brains. Interesting.

With their Whisper helmets, the Spanish manufacturer Catlike explored unknown design territory. This is the case where indeed form follows function.

To a certain degree, most manufacturers are still indebted to the tradition that began with leather helmets of the kind worn by Fausto Coppi until the 1950s. 

Let’s just say that they were not the ideal form of head protection. Maybe the padding could absorb a little of the impact, but head injuries were still frequent. Those helmets were bulky and thick and offered little and inefficient ventilation. Most pros dispensed with them most of the time. To an extent, the new carbon fiber and styrofoam helmets have inherited the look of the longitudinal, streamlined, padded strips of leather.

Not so the Catlike Whisper helmets: they are different from the pack and exhibit no regard for tradition. Two main concerns guide their design: efficient ventilation and maximum head protection.

The Catlike helmets provide 39 openings to take advantage of the flow of air during a ride. We all know how important ventilation is and hate it when it gets hot and sticky under the helmet. Furthermore, it gets extremely irritating when the noise of the air flow gets so loud that we can’t think. The location of the openings and the air stream inside and above the helmet address these two major sources of distraction. The holes are designed to form several tunnels to facilitate the passage of air, perhaps taking inspiration from the design of Formula 1 cars, a big thing in Europe.

Even more importantly for our well being, in case of a crash, the ridges and valleys formed by the ventilation holes are strategically located to distribute the force of impact equally over the largest possible area, which is to say that rather then suffering from a blunt and painful blow in one particular spot, we may be able to feel less pain over the entire head. No question, this is better for us—science tells us so.

Designed to provide maximum comfort, the Catlike Whisper helmets introduce interesting details, such as this padded chin strap.

The Catlike Whisper helmets come in several colors and finishes. The matt black finish, shown above, is my favorite, but that's just me.

With their distinctive look, these helmets may please some but not all. Some may prefer the more traditional kind, and BikeNüt carries those, too. 

The important thing, however, is to wear a helmet. I know, there is a debate going on between helmet doctrinaires and free spirits. Immediately before, during, or after a crash, however, it is too late to decide which side is right.

 

This point became painfully clear yesterday morning, while riding on the Golden Gate Bridge, when two cyclists coming from two opposite directions clashed on the East sidewalk. There were paramedics, fire fighters, and a few stretchers. Not a good sight.

Giro d'Italia

Wouter Weylandt, of Team QuickStep, sprints to victory at the end of the third stage

We enjoyed the spring classics, we were glued to the TV screen during the Paris-Roubaix, but at last the season of the Grand Tours has started. The Giro d’Italia began last Saturday, May 8, 2010, with a time-trial race in Amsterdam. Next Sunday, May 16, the Tour of California, our home race, will start. In July we’ll have the Tour de France. And then, the Vuelta de España, and so forth. There are plenty of reasons for celebrating for those of us, at BikeNüt and elsewhere, who like to follow bike races. Most of these races will be shown live on TV. We’ll also check out the new bikes, hear the typically bland interviews with the riders, check out the garish uniforms. Bliss!

I have a couple of thoughts about the Giro. Many of the big names in professional cycling today, from Alberto Contador to Lance Armstrong, Mark Cavendish, Fabian Cancellara, George Hincapie, and many others are missing from the roster. Many chose to ride on the Tour of California rather than on the Giro. Why was it necessary to choose between the two? Why was the Tour of California planned at the same time as the Giro? We don’t know. Since it was moved from its usual time slot in February, couldn’t the tour organizer avoid schedule conflicts altogether? Couldn’t the Tour of California organizers and the Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI), the international body that supposedly coordinates these events, get together for coffee or something and decide on a schedule? What are they thinking?

Enough of that.

I also wonder why this year the Giro is starting from Amsterdam, rather than from one of the many Italian cities, as it did in the past. 

True, last year the Tour de France also started in the Netherlands, and I suppose the Giro organizers felt the pressure and didn’t want to be left behind. Indeed, next year, they will outdo the Tour and start from Washington, D.C. What will the following year be, Sidney, Australia? Bangkok, perhaps? The North Pole? I entirely agree that these races are too important to be confined by narrow nationalistic boundaries, but is it necessary to leave a carbon footprint as large as Europe to make the Giro a newsworthy race? The whole thing strikes me as a marketing gimmick.

Not to take anything from the other grand races, but I think the Giro is the most entertaining. It’s more unpredictable, has more variety of places and topography, and has more heroic mountain stages. Why not make the most of these qualities rather than introduce novelty stages? Besides, I strongly feel that the Giro organizers, as well as the organizers of all of the other races, have the responsibility of communicating the virtues of cycling—its efficiency, health benefits, and sheer beauty—rather than transform it into a circus involving hundreds of cars, trucks, buses, and airplanes.

There, I’ve said it.

Today, at the end of the third and last of the Dutch stages, Alexandre Vinokourod, of Team Astana, got the pink jersey. After tomorrow’s rest day, necessary to survive the 1,200 mile trip to Italy, the Giro will start from Cuneo, Italy with the Team Time Trial. 

That’s where it will really begin.

Alexandre Vinokourod, enjoying the lead

Fascenario 0.7

Marcus Storck, now in his early 40s, has been designing bicycles for more than 30 years. His design philosophy is to make things once, make them well, and not upgrade them every one or two years. You can’t do any better than that, he says.

Storck makes me think of a book of a few years ago that I am re-reading only now, with a renewed sense of interest and much pleasure. The book is The Craftsman, by the sociologist Richard Sennett. The idea of craftsmanship, Sennett writes, is not applicable only to wood carving or macramé, but to virtually every aspect of our world, from dentistry to writing or computer 3D rendering. Even lawyers or bond traders have the potential of being craftsmen. At some point or another in our daily lives, we translate ideas into things, and if we have any salt in our brains, we want to do it well. It is this innate reward of making things to the best of one’s ability that craftsmen treasure, far beyond material rewards or public praise.

Marcus Storck is a craftsman in the best sense of the word. Storck knows that, in terms of market share and level of public exposure, his bikes will never compete with the giants in the business. That is not his goal. His objective is to make the best bikes he can.

The Fascenario 0.7 (no further information is available about the origin of this name) was introduced in 2007 and is still in production. At that time, his was the lightest production racing machine available, one complete bike for 12.7 pounds.

There are many remarkable qualities about this bike, such as the level of craftsmanship in all of its parts, for example, the smoothness of the carbon layering, that make it possible to see the weave through a thin layer of clear coating without any aesthetic loss, or the organic, sensuous forms of the tubes. Many more components than are usually provided by bicycle manufacturers are produced directly by Storck, such as the cranckset, for example.

The Fascenario 0.7 has been a regular fixture at BikeNüt. It is placed on a prominent display in our showroom, implying that is reserved for the most discriminating customers, those looking for a bike at the sight of which only collectors or cognoscenti will emit an appreciative “Wow!” Its frame looks remarkably straightforward, even simple. Even its simplicity communicates quality: if things are good, there is no need to hide them behind useless decoration.

Yet, as good as Storck bikes are, we believe that there is still room for improvement. As usual, this Fascenario 0.7 is not the bike that is shown in Storck’s online catalogue but one that we put together with the best components. Marcus Storck has his own ideas about quality; we have ours.

The wheels consist of a set of Mavic Cosmic Carbone Ultimate. These wheels introduce a new technology, where the spokes do not penetrate the surface of the carbon-fiber rims, thus compromising their structural integrity, but are molded to them. They are tubular rims and are very, very light.

The brakes are REVL Carbon, and, as the name implies, are made of carbon fiber except for the spindle, of course, made of titanium, and the brake pads. As brakes go, they are deceptively simple in their design, reducing the number of moving parts to a minimum. 

As I mentioned earlier, the fork is also manufactured according to Storck's specification. It has its own brand, Stiletto Light USM. It is considered to be extremely stiff and reliable for its weight, a meager 260 g. Why should Storck go to the trouble of designing, engineering, and manufacturing these things? Easy: no other fork, in this instance, would do, as it would clash with the design quality and appearance of the other components. All parts of this bike merge into a seamless whole.

The same goes for the crankset, also produced by Storck. The PowerArms SL crank is very light (440 g. without chain rings) and stiff and, like almost everything else on this bike, is made of carbon fiber. It is suitable for BB 30 bottom brackets. The outer chaining is also made of carbon fiber and produced by Fibre-Lyte, a British company. The inner chain ring is a Stronglight, made of 7075 aluminum and coated in Teflon for smoothness.

The saddle alone could be the subject of a series of posts. We all know how important saddles are for cyclists, amateurs and pros alike; their importance becomes painfully obvious after spending several hours on them. This, an Arione K:1 by the Italian manufacturer fi’zi:k, is a technological marvel, entirely made of carbon fiber from the seat to the rails, supporting the whole surface of the saddle: 140 g, total. The manufacturer claims the this surface consists of a combination of carbon fiber and soft gel. Mmmmh.

Not everything is black or charcoal grey in this bike. We introduced a touch of color: the KCNC cassette is made of a combination of titanium, light weight aluminum alloy, and scandium, all in the name of lightness, for an approximate weight of 103 g. The chain, also gold in color, is by KMC, model X10SL with a titanium nitrate coating: it is light! Perhaps more importantly, these components work exceedingly smoothly with the Shimano DuraAce group.

Finally, a touch of levity, in the gold colored, Y-Cut TK 233 titanium and alloy skewers by Token: about 40 g for the set.

We've barely scratched the surface, and there is a lot that could be added about this machine. Let's not forget that this bike is made for riding not just for admiring. I know, I'm asking a lot.

One last thing: many thanks to Ryan at BikeNüt for last-minute research on some of the components.

A ride over to the Marin Headlands? Not until September!

We don’t just put together bikes and sell them, we also love riding them.

It used to be that my favorite training ride, one of those rides that are handy when you have something else to do that day, was to cross the Golden Gate Bridge, climb the hill overlooking the Marin Headlands, stop for a minute to take in the view of San Francisco from the top of Conzelman Road, ride down the hill, perhaps take a detour to the Headlands Institute and Rodeo Beach to watch the waves, ride east on Bunker Road, climb again up McCullough Road and return to the city across the Bridge—about an hour and a half from my home in San Francisco. I used to take this ride twice, maybe three times a week.

Well, no more. Conzelman Road has been blocked off for the best part of this year.

Why? Because the National Park Service and the U.S. Department of Transportation have decided to improve something that was close to perfect. They are repaving the roads, enlarging them to accommodate parking for cars, and, yes, they are including a bike lane on the way up.

I certainly applaud the inclusion of  a bike lane, although it should not be necessary on what is substantially a country road. Here people are supposed to look at the stunning scenery and feel at peace with nature, rather than driving at top speed with great danger to themselves and to others without any law enforcement within sight. The newly paved roads will certainly not discourage such behavior.

What will Conzelman Road look like? According to the rendering shown in the project’s website, www.projectheadlands.gov, it will be distressingly similar to the parking lot surrounding a suburban shopping mall.

Proposed

Existing

Why is it that we think of some beautiful spot as some sort of tourist destination, or a ride, not as in bike ride but as in Disneyland ride, something that is made especially for tourists, in other words, and should be avoided carefully by locals. We have seen such trivialization happening with Lombard Street in San Francisco, which has no other reason to appeal to hordes of visitors than that of being curved. Still in San Francisco, Fisherman’s Wharf, another area that has become the prime example of a tourist trap, with the same shops and souvenirs we see anywhere else on the planet.

Why not leave to people to discover such attractions and feel a sense of achievement in their accomplishment? Why must tourism have this in-your-face quality? Why is it that whenever we discuss road improvement it is to increase the volume of traffic, primarily cars or buses? 

Now