Climbing

I like climbing.

Sorta.

Climbing goes part and parcel with cycling in Colorado   It doesn't matter what kind of cycling you do.  You have to climb around here.  We have these Big Things called the Rocky Mountains.  They're kinda high.  Because we live close to those mountains the terrain here isn't flat.  At least not for very long.  Sooner or later, on any given ride, you have to climb.

Yeah, it hurts sometimes.

If you ride a bike around here, climbing is something you have to make peace with.

I have a love/hate relationship with climbing.  As I approach a climb, there's a certain loathing I experience.  Something in me doesn't want to do the Work.  I think about walking the climb, or I'll consider possible alternatives.  However, at some point, usually just before the slope changes, something automatic kicks in and I just start working.

I start enjoying myself.

When I finally summit the climb, even a short one, I feel an exhilaration.  I feel like Caesar.

Veni. Ego ascendit. Vici.

It's kind of silly-sounding, but climbing with a bike is serious business.  It takes strength, endurance and intelligence.  You have to have strength to push yourself ever higher, be able to carry on to the end, and smart enough to do it right.

I find climbing a useful tool.  I ride a number of climbs regularly and I find that as time goes on I get through these climbs faster.  It's never easier, either. It's like Greg Lemond said.

It never gets easier.  You just get faster.

Climbs that  a year ago, would kick your ass, still kick your ass, but the difference is that as time goes on you don't have to endure the ass-kicking for as long.

And that, dear friends, is progress.

It shows that I'm getting stronger, my lungs are improving and maybe, just maybe, a tad smarter.

I like that.

I also find that once I make it to the Top, that I've been having fun.

I like that, too.

Climbs: Loretto Backside

Not far from our house is one of the best climbs in the city of Denver. I named it "Loretto Backside" after the old name of the nearby college campus, Loretto Heights. The Backside begins at Knox and Hampden and climbs for just under a mile.  There is an elevation gain of about 200 feet over that distance which works out to an average grade of about 4%. Don't let that number fool you.  The Backside qualifies as a Categorty 5 climb.  It  starts out easy, but gets progressively steeper reaching a brutal 20% grade in the last third of a mile.  It's a great climb, a fantastic workout, and one of the most challenging short climbs I know of. I make this climb regularly as a part of two commuting routes I take home.  The Backside looms over the last few miles of my commute, so when I get to the bottom I'm warmed up and ready for some work. And the Backside provides it. I take it slow, staying in the saddle until I pass Dartmouth where I stand up and "dance" the rest of the way to the summit.   My ass is pretty much kicked by the time I get there. And it feels great. Although I'm not a great or strong climber, I still get a lot of satisfaction from making a tough climb like Loretto Backside.

Create Maps or search from 80 million at MapMyRide

If you find yourself on Bear Creek Trail and want challenge to liven up the ride, simply turn north when Bear Creek crosses Lowell, cross Hampden, and head on up

Sun Spot

Sun Spot and my bike (for scale)

If you ride the Platte River Trail,  there is an interesting statue at 1241 West Bayaud that watches over  people who pass.  It's called "Sun Spot".  Sun Spot is a 20-foot tall likeness of a dog made up of 90,000 stainless steel dog tags (not the military kind).  It was set up in May, 2011 when the new animal shelter opened at the same location.

The artists who created Sun Spot are Laura Haddad and Tom Drugan.

Denver has it's share of monumental statuary scattered about the city.  This one is my favorite.

A slide show of Sun Spot being installed can be found here.

Satisfied: Titanico X

I'd like to do a series of posts where I discuss bike components and kit that I've purchased and am satisfied with.  I am not a paid endorser nor do I have any business relationship with these companies.  I'm just a satisfied customer.

Your bike's most important part is the ass on the saddle.

Anyway, that's what some people say ....

Colorful metaphors aside, a comfortable saddle is more important than anything else on the bike.  This is especially true when you've been riding all day and your butt-cheeks feel like they've been pounded into hamburger. You can be hot, sweaty, thirsty, sunburned, with sore legs and back, but it all pales in comparison to the inhuman torture of a saddle that just ain't right.  As a result, a comfortable saddle is the Holy Grail of cycling.

My quest for the Grail began a few months after bringing my GT home.  It came with a decent saddle, made by a reputable company, but became very uncomfortable after about 20 miles.  I tried the Rule 5 ploy, hoping to get used to it, but my backside just wasn't diggin' the saddle at all.  So, after giving it a good 5 months I decided a different saddle was in order.

Titanico X

I tried several saddles that didn't really feel a whole lot better than what I already had.  Then, I went to a shop to look at a well-known English-made leather saddle, one that everyone raves about, only to find out that it wouldn't work on my bike.  In order to get a proper fit, the saddle needed more setback than the that saddle allowed.  The fitting specialist immediately suggested a different leather saddle that offered considerably more setback and in his opinion, would be even more comfortable than the other saddle.  This saddle was made by an American company, Selle Anatomica, and was called the "Titanico".

I'd never heard of it.

Choice of saddle is a very personal matter.  A saddle that works for one may not work for another.  The shop had a loaner saddle and we mounted to the bike so I could ride it for a weekend and decide for myself.  That decision was not long in coming.  I rode 15 miles after work the next day, and 50 miles over the weekend.  I was amazed at how immediately comfortable the saddle was.  Really, really comfortable.  I was impressed after the first ride, but by the time the weekend was over I was sold.  I ordered a saddle right away.

The new saddle arrived in time for the Denver Century where I'd be riding a Metric Century for the first time.  Ordinarily, you don't use a brand-new piece of equipment on a ride like that, but I felt confident this new saddle would serve well.  It did not disappoint.  It was a brutal day's ride, but at the finish, my butt was the only part of me that didn't hurt.

Since then, I've put a lot of miles on my Titanico.  I love it.  It's proven to be as easy to own, dependable and durable as it is comfortable.

No treatment was or is needed for the Titanico.  No cremes or oils had to applied to the leather.  The laminate, "Watershed" leather was perfect right out of the box and continues to be so. You never have to do a thing to it.  No maintenance is required and that's a good thing in my book.

Although it never required a break-in period as with other leather saddles, mine stretched just a little in the first weeks. Tensioning the saddle was simple - using a tensioning screw in the saddles's nose - and since then has required no further adjustment.  It didn't take long to find the saddles "sweet spot" - in my case just a couple degrees down at the nose.  The saddle has kept that setup and has required no further adjustment.  You can count on the saddle being the same as it was last time you rode it.

Recent picture of my Titanico X

My saddle is amazingly durable.  The rails are strong and support my 200+ pounds very well.  It holds up beautifully - after 6 months it looks every bit as good as it did the day I brought it home. Just recently I rode in a cold, shitty rain for 20 miles and left it uncovered for 1/2 hour with no ill effect.  This is a damned tough saddle.

The saddle is extremely comfortable in all riding positions. The cut-out to prevent perineum numbness works well and doesn't cause any discomfort.  It's still comfortable all day long.


So, I'm extremely satisfied with the Titanico X.  It has proven to be all that was promised and more.  It's a saddle I'd recommend to anyone, anytime.

Road Krill

Several of my regular rides take me along the South Platte River.  There's a nice multi-use trail that follows the river through the city.  It's a nice trail as such things go.  It's wide enough, smooth and scenic.  There are squirrels, deer, herons, eagles, ducks, geese, cormorants, numerous songbirds and, of course, all sorts of different people.  There are people on bikes - Roadies, Hipsters, Cruisers, people on tandems, recumbents, mountain bikes, hybrids, fitness and even the occasional handcycle.  There are people walking, jogging, pushing strollers, with dogs, children and so on.  Quite a menagerie, actually.  All things considered, it's a wonderful trail system.

Except for the Road Krill.

Yes.  Road Krill.

Road Krill

Road Krill is the name I give to the evil clouds of minute insects - midges, gnats, mayflies and so on - that form along the river at various times during the year.  They swarm over the trail in their thousands and are often invisible until the split second before you ride right through them. 

And they are nasty, nasty little fuckers.

All by themselves they are harmless enough.  They don't seem to bite, or anything.  In some cases they don't even have mouth parts (don't ask me why I know this).  In fact, I think the only reason they swarm at all is for mating purposes.

I'll not begrudge them their right to procreate.  I do wish they'd get a room or something.

What makes a Road Krill Encounter so nasty is that you get covered by the little shits.  They get in your hair, they go up your nose, in your ears and in your mouth.  They'll get behind your glasses and fly around and get in your eyes.  It's a fucking nightmare.  You run though a swarm of these evil, nasty, little bastards and you'll want to stop and tear off your own skin with your bare hands.

Some people try to protect themselves - an effort in futility.  One fellow I see regularly, rides along with a bandanna covering his mouth and nose.  In the winter a balaclava can offer a forlorn sense of protection.  Such measures may offer some protection to the mouth and nose, but does nothing to save the rest of your body and bike from being thoroughly pelted with those ............... insects.  They're going nuts, trapped behind your glasses, unable to escape.  They're in you ears, wings buzzing at unnatural volume.  They're trapped in the hair on your arms, legs and head.  Some of them go down into your jersey.

And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it.

Sickening.

Most sane people avoid the river altogether.

Our friends, the Velominati, those who abide by The Rules, will quickly and correctly invoke Rule 5:  Harden The Fuck Up.  Forget about the discomfort, the good vs. evil duality and the stomach-churning revulsion.  Put on your Big Boy Pants, grow a pair, put your head down, just ride through and don't be such a fucking pussy about it.

My good friend and sometime cycling partner, Mr. Ected, says it best ...

All you can do is just open your mouth and take in the protein.

The Bike

After riding the mountain bike for a couple months, two became things became clear.   One was that I needed a better bike than what I had.  A better bike would be ……… better.  I was riding a lot and I was riding hard.   I was riding longer distances at ever-increasing speeds.   The bike I had, simply, wasn’t going to cut it for very much longer. The second thing was that it seemed I had almost no interest in riding in the dirt.  Even when opportunities to play in the dirt would present themselves I stayed to pavement.   A mountain bike wasn’t of much use.   It was clear that a new bike was needed and it wasn’t going to be a mountain bike.

It turned out to be a road bike.  This road bike.

I enlisted the help of a new friend, Glen.  Glen was an experienced bike racer and had forgotten more about bikes than I knew.  Glen was generous with his time and knowledge, answering every question, offering advice on what to look for and what to avoid.  I learned a lot from Glen - derailleurs, brakes, wheels, saddles, tires and frames.  I absorbed as much as I could.  I wanted to be as informed as possible when the time came to buy my next bike.  I wanted it to be the best bike I could afford.

One day Glen emailed me a sale flier that listed a 2011 GT GTR Series 2 road bike.  It had the kind of components I was looking for and the price was right.  I drove down to the shop after work, looked the bike over and took it for a test ride.  Although it had been 40 years since the last time I got on a road bike, I found the GT comfortable, steady and predictable.  I liked it immediately.  After talking it over with the wife, we decided to buy it.  It was Christmas time, and money was a little tight, so we put it on lay-away with the idea of redeeming the bike in mid-February.   Three months.

That was a long three months.  Although the weather around the Holidays wasn't always suited  to riding, every time a nice day came along, I found myself wanting to get on GT and ride it somewhere rather than the POS I had.    I was like a kid waiting for a present he knew he was getting.  It was kinda fun to feel that way, but it was also kind of frustrating.  I still had the old, POS mountain bike to ride and it was, of course, better than nothing, but  it wasn't the bike that was waiting for me.  It wasn't the kind of bike I wanted to be riding.

February finally came.  We finished paying off the layaway, and brought the bike home.  I asked the mechanic to remove the spoke protector from the rear wheel.  This item is also called a "Pie Pan" or "Dork Disc".  It was ugly.  I didn't want it on my bike.  When I got home, I put Mr. Tuffy tape in the tires for better flat protection. I shit-canned the reflectors.  I took the pedals and cyclocomputer off the MTB and mounted them on the GT.

The bike was home and ready to ride.

I took the next day off work and took the GT for a long ride. Twenty five miles.  I was in love.  It was everything the mountain bike was not - light, responsive, fast and easy on the eye.  It was cloudy and cool out, but I didn't really notice.  I saw a few similarly dedicated cyclists on the road.  I nodded, smiled and waved.  I was now a Roadie.  I was one them.  We recognize our own, don't we?  They did not respond in kind.  Then a young lady on a Trek passed me.  Didn't say a word.  I wanted to say something to her about what I nice day for a ride it was, but before I could get a word out, she was gone out of earshot.  But what the hell.  It was nothing personal and this wasn't a race.  There was a long downhill at about the half-way point.  I decided to get down in the "drops" and take this descent like a pro.  Sort of.  Nearing the bottom I shot a glance at the computer: 35 MPH!!!!!!! 

Sonofabitch, that's FUCKING FAST!!!!!!

The rest of the ride was along the South Platte River. I blew through several clouds of Road Krill en route, but being peppered with gnats didn't bother me.  I was now a Roadie and was above such mundane annoyances.  I made it home, tired, but happy and supremely satisfied.  I wheeled the bike into the garage set it up in the stand, got a cup of coffee and sat with my new bike for a while.  Then I grabbed a rag and wiped her down.

I'd done alright.

2011 GT GTR Series 2

Wheels: Mavic Aksium Race
Tires: Kenda Kadence 700 X 23c
Handlebars:  Ritchey
Brakes: Tektonic R540
Front Derailleur: SRAM Apex
Rear Derailleur: SRAM Apex
Brake/Shift Levers: SRAM Apex Double-Tap
Headset:  FSA Orbit 1 Inegrated
Bottom Bracket: FSA Mega Exo
Crank:  SRAM Apex 50/34

Things I Added

Headlight
Tail light
2 bottle cages
Mr. Tuffy tire liners
Pedals from the MTB
Cateye cyclocomputer from the MTB.

Shit-Canned

Rear wheel spoke protector ("Pie Pan" or "Dork Disc")
Reflectors

Things I Changed Later

Tires
Just before the Denver Century, I changed the Kenda 23s to a set of Vittoria Rubino Pro Slick 25s.  My hope was to get a more compliant ride, which I got, but the increased tire diameter changed rollout and in effect raised my overall gear ratios.  I recently switched back to the Kendas.

Cassette
The bike came with a Shimano 12-25 cassette.  After riding with this for several months I decided I needed lower gearing for climbs and opted for the SRAM 1050 12-28 cassette instead.  Good choice.

Chain
The bike came with a Shimano chain.  When I replaced the cassette, I got a new SRAM PC 1031 PowerChain.

Seatpost
I was cursed by two reputable mechanics for the stock seatpost – a Ritchey OEM post.  Ashamed, I replaced the Ritchey with a Deda Elementi  Pro RS01.  Much nicer.

Pedals
Not really a change as the bike came without pedals. At first I used the pedals off the old MTB.  When I decided to step up to clipless pedals I chose the Crank Brothers Eggbeater 1. A friend had a factory rebuilt set with new cleats.  I like walking normally and have vivid memories of the Earth Shoe.

Eggbeaters are easy to clip in/out of and hold the foot securely.  They're a LOT more comfortable than they look.  The colors even match the bike.

Seat
The bike came with the Fi'zi:k Pave CS saddle.  That saddle was fine for about two hours of riding and then became really uncomfortable.  After trying a few others, I settled on the Selle An Atomica Titanico X to replace the Fi'zi:k.  The TX is a leather hammock-style saddle, but required no break in - immediately comfortable.  I also needed more setback on the saddle than other saddles offered and the Titanico has really long mounting rails that worked perfectly for that problem.

Note:  Choice of saddles is probably the most personal thing on road bike.  Some saddles work for some peope and not for others.  My decision to replace the Fi'zi:k is not a reflection on the quality of that saddle.  It wasn't working and for the sake of my butt a change was necessary.

It's Josh's Bike Now

It used to be mine.

I bought it "off the rack" at my local Kmart.  Or was it Walmart. Shit, I don't remember, but wherever it was, it happened ten years ago.  Maybe.  I forget.  Dammit!  I don't even remember why I bought it in the first place.

This gettin' old shit ain't for pussies.

Anyway.....

I bought this bike and used it briefly. Then it sat in the garage for a long time, collecting dust, the tires going flat.  Ignored.  Neglected. All but forgotten.

Then came Doctors Orders.

Ride your bike.

So, I pulled ten years of flotsam off the bike.  I cleaned it up.  I put air back in the tires.  I oiled the chain.  I went to the cupboard, grabbed my helmet and gloves and went back to go for a ride.

Both tires were already flat.

Gawddammit!

So, I went to the nearest bike shop and got a couple tubes.  I got home replaced the tubes, aired-up the tires and went for a ride.

Let me take a moment to describe the bike.  It was a full-suspension mountain bike.  For those unfamiliar with bikes like this, a full-suspension bike has a suspension system on both wheels.  It was made from aluminum and heavy (weighed in at 42 pounds).  It had 21 speeds - 7 gears (or cogs) on the rear wheel and 3 gears (or chainrings) on the crank.  The derailleurs were made by Shimano but not particularly good.  By any standard, this wasn't a particularly good bike, but it was serviceable.

I would joke about the bike.  I'd call it a POS (Piece of Shit).  I'd run down the derailuers, the wheels, the tires, the frame, the seat, the weight and whatever benighted, reprobate, creature designed it.  I would, at times, be relentless in my condemnation.  Privately, it was a much different story.

I was having fun.

Despite all the bike's shortcomings, I was enjoying the hell out of riding it. The sights and sounds associated with cycling were kind of intoxicating.  Meeting the challenges of a climb, a new route, an old route ridden faster or a longer route I found to be supremely satisfying.  I was feeling better.  I was losing a little weight.  My cardio-vascular health was improving.   It was all that, more and I was loving every minute of it. It may not have been the best bike in the world and it may have been every bit the POS I was telling people it was, but it was also my conveyance to a new world, a new way of life.

I found tinkering with that bike to be very therapeutic.  Going to the garage after dinner with a cup of coffee and NPR to work on my bike (whether it needed the work or not) became a ritual of sorts.  It was calming.  It was intimate.  It was rewarding.

It provided me with education.  I learned to do things I didn’t know how to do.  I learned to adjust derailleurs and brakes.  I cleaned and re-greased the wheel bearings.  I took it apart and put it back together.  I found out what differences changing seat or handlebar positioning would make.  I learned how to pace myself.  I learned how to listen to my body.

This bike, this “piece of shit”, was helping me in ways I had never thought I could be helped.  Taking me to places I had never considered going to.  My life was changing, right before my very eyes and this machine was at the heart of it.

It really wasn’t a piece of shit.  It was more like a friend.  I liked this bike.  I was having fun with it.  It was helping me make my world a Better Place.

What are friends for?

*********************************************

All things change and so would this.  That bike was a mountain bike.  It was meant to be ridden off-road and I was becoming more interested in road cycling.  I found a decent road bike, bought it and began riding that.  The mountain bike was once again set aside.  I was thinking about giving it to some needy kid when a friend, Josh, offered to buy it from me.  I needed some kit, so I took him up on his offer.

So now it’s Josh’s bike and I hope he can get a fraction of what I got from it.