We Are The Cyclists

I have lots of overdue posts, half-written, queued up to publish. It's this video, though, that I really need to share with you right now.



It made me laugh so hard I nearly peed myself!

New Year, New Bike

No, I haven't actually got another bike! But Joop's had a new Chorus 11-speed groupset fitted and I even convinced Warrick to service the hubs on those Eurus wheels and put on new tyres so it looks and feels like a new bike!





Between eating and sleeping during the week between Xmas and New Year, I managed to get out for a few 2-3 hour rides and am really pleased with the new Chorus.

I especially like the shape and texture of the new lever hoods. It wasn't something I noticed immediately on using them, but when I later rode a bike with the old-style levers I suddenly felt that the old shape was really uncomfortable!

Other noteworthy improvements are the shorter throw of the new shifting mechanism, and improved braking performance. The brake calipers themselves aren't any different, but the shape and action of the levers is more comfortable and requires less effort to pull. I don't think it'll be long before I replace the levers on one or two of my other bikes.

I also want to change these bars. I put those FSA Wing Pro Alloy compact bars on just to try them out when they first became available, and never really warmed to them. Now I find that the shape of the new Campag levers makes the shape of the compact bend look really odd. But I haven't decided what to replace them with. I'd really like to try the Deda Campione carbon bars, but don't think my budget will stretch that far (even at the staff discount price). I'll probably just end up putting the old Stella Azzurra Profi bars back on. Then my bars, stem and seatpost will all match again and that's a very important style consideration, you know!

Leftovers

While I've nothing to do besides get out for a ride then come back for lunch of leftover turkey and stuffing, I have plenty of time to write up scintillating blog posts.

But I'm using that time to watch rubbish on telly instead, so I'll send you to a bit I wrote about the Ghent Six-Days for londoncyclesport.com: Big Names at the Ghent Six.

Catching Up

One of the films I saw at the Bicycle Film Festival last month was Road to Roubaix, a feature film about the 2007 Paris-Roubaix race. But, as any film about this iconic race must, it also features footage of classic editions and plenty of people talking about the emotions and passion the race evokes.

The story of my Big Belgian Adventure - a trip to Belgium and France for Spring Classics week 2008 that I began recounting on this blog nearly eight months ago - concludes with my watching Tom Boonen blast past Fabian Cancellara and Alessandro Ballan on his way to that famous finish line in the Roubaix velodrome.



But the end of that story actually begins much earlier...


One day back in June, 2007, I began the work day as usual by scanning the appointments diary.

"Erm," I had to ask, "is this eSoles appointment this afternoon the Roger Hammond or just a Roger Hammond?" "I don't know," Phil said, "he just called up to make an appointment and said his name was Roger Hammond."

Whether he knew and was teasing me or not, I don't know, but I did my best to act cool all day until the moment when I answered the front door and, "Hello!", the Roger Hammond wheeled his T-Mobile team issue case into the shop and I made him a cup of tea.

In the weeks following his visit, I had reason to speak to him on a couple of occasions. It was quite an exciting time: he'd been short-listed for the Tour squad and was waiting for the final selection. When the squad was announced and Mark Cavendish was there but he wasn't, I offered my commiserations. He explained that the team would be working for Michael Rogers on GC and looking to Mark for a stage win. I practically batted my eyelashes down the telephone line and said, "Well, he won't get it without you there to lead him out!" Rog protested that there were plenty of riders on the team capable of looking after young Mark but I felt vindicated - sad, but vindicated - when Cavendish crashed in the first stage, squandering his best chance for a stage win, and ended up leaving the Tour empty-handed. I’m sure Mr. Hammond would've kept him out of the gutter, out of harm's way.

Nine months later, at Gent-Wevelgem on the Wednesday of my 2008 Spring Classics Week trip, I watched Cavendish ride comfortably up the Kemmelberg from where I'd staked out a viewing spot, prepared for the inbetween-laps boredom with a handbag full of Duvel. Watching the race live, I had no idea what happened after the race passed for the 2nd time. Knowing that many people had tipped Cav for the win, I was surprised to discover afterwards that he'd finished in 17th while Roger had made it into the top 10. Surely all Cav had to do was stick to Roger's wheel...



Later that evening, after the friendly bartender at our hotel taught me how to order Duvel across a crowded bar (hold your hands next to your temples with your index fingers extended like Devil's horns), I decided it would be nice to send a congratulatory text to Roger and to let him know that I'd be out riding parts of the Paris-Roubaix course on Thursday and Friday. If there were any chance of meeting up on the road, I’d be thrilled to ride a couple of miles with him. He replied to let me know when High Road would be riding out from Arenberg on Friday and said he hoped to see me there.




Unfortunately, they were setting out much later than the group I was with were planning to be through the forest, so I missed him. I sent him a message on Friday to say, "Sorry I missed you, I'll try to get your attention at the team presentation tomorrow to say hi," and he replied that I hadn't missed anything anyway - it turns out that the High Road squad set out late and ended up driving over a lot of the pave sectors instead of riding them - and said he'd look out for me in Compiegne.

In Compiegne the next day, when the High Road vehicle - I hesitate to call it a team bus as it was so much more modest than any other team's! - arrived, I waited patiently for all the riders to disembark and was grateful when most of the crowd moved away to follow George Hincapie (who isn't fit to smear Roger Hammond's chamois cream, in my opinion). Finally, Rog, who likes to be last off the bus, appeared and I waved hello. He stopped for a pat on the back and a quick kiss on both cheeks and then we chatted as he made his way towards the team presentation stage. All the while, there was a TV cameraman walking backwards in front of us and an unrelenting stream of fans pushing things into his hands for an autograph or stopping to have their pictures taken with him. When we got to the stage, he practically apologised for having to step away, and a quarter of an hour later, we picked up again and did the whole thing in reverse. It was mad enough with Roger; Tommeke! Tommeke! Tommeke! was completely mobbed.



While waiting for the teams to arrive for the start in Compiegne on Sunday, we stopped in a cafe for small, strong coffees. The local pros had the same idea: the entire Francaise des Jeux squad took up the tables next to us. "Who do you think will win today?", one of us asked. "Bah," came the reply with a Gallic shrug, "it won't be one of us! Maybe Boonen if it stays dry, but if it rains he's no good." I should've put a bet on then and there.

The actual day of the race proceeded much like my experience of the Tour of Flanders - watch the start then dash to the coach to get to the next viewing point, and repeat until you arrive at the velodrome in Roubaix.



It was heart-rending seeing Roger Hammond exit the Arenberg Forest with blood dripping down his face and then watching him work so hard, for 100 kms, to fight back to the front of the race. He entered the velodrome in 23rd place, just over 7 minutes behind the winning trio.

I remember reading an article once where Roger described how, after finishing the race he liked to spend some time in the track centre, just relaxing and soaking up the atmosphere before heading into the showers. This year, he headed out immediately to get a suspected broken finger attended to. My hero.

Mig and Me

Last night, I was out at the Bicycle Film Festival and each film in the programme reminded me of something I've been meaning to post.

One of the shorts was a collage of images of Marco Pantani in the 1994 Tour de France, won by my mate, Miguel Indurain:

Well, he was my mate for at least the 10 seconds it took Antonio to snap this photo. He'd just crossed the finish line at the Gran Fondo Pinarello when we accosted him shouting "Miguelon! Miguelon!" How could he resist?

Business Trip

Nevermind it's my day off, I've just been to Diss, Norfolk, with Julian to see something really exciting.

My luck runs out

For the past 5 or 6 months I've been commuting mostly on a Glider Boxercross (one of the pre-production frames which I've customised a bit) running handbuilt wheels shod with Challenge Paris-Roubaix 28mm tubular tyres.

That's right, I've been commuting through London on tubs.

This has nothing to do with taking a stance in the clinchers vs. tubs debate; I'm not commuting on tubs because I think they're "better" but rather to prove that there's nothing especially difficult about mounting or changing them, or anything risky about riding with them, as many people seem to believe. So many people come into the shop looking for super light climbing wheels or deep, aero, carbon rims but suck air through their teeth and shake their heads when you mention a tubular option. And that's just the men! Female riders have been led to believe that riding with tubulars is something completely beyond them.

So I wanted to prove that not only are tubulars not as mysterious and difficult as people make them out to be, but that they are so easy to deal with that you can ride them every day and suffer no more incident, stress, or effort than riding clinchers.

This was always going to be a tricky thing to pull off; my commute into central London is along a bus lane and glass-littered gutters with so much traffic that you can't swerve to avoid the pot holes and debris. But I put my faith in what I knew to be the facts and just got on with it. In case of puncture, I ride with a canister of Vittoria Pitstop sealant and a frame-fit pump. (I love my Pocket Rocket, but with 28mm tyres I'd be pumping a long, long, time!)

One day, about three months ago, as I was riding along a section of road which had just been re-opened after having been coned-off for weeks to accommodate the reconstruction of a fire-razed building, I surveyed all the rubbish on the road and thought to myself, "They've really left this area a mess!" Then I heard the Pfffttttt of a punctured tyre and pulled over to evaluate the damage. My rear tyre had a large v-shaped cut in it, much too large to be sealed by the Pitstop. So, since I was wearing my MTB shoes, I walked the rest of the way (most of the way) and arrived at work a half-hour late.

After having replaced that front tub, I tried to be more wary of riding through glass and road debris and began inspecting my tyres for cuts more frequently.

One morning, I found a slit that was small, but so deep that it completely penetrated the casing and allowed a bit of the latex inner to bubble through. I knew that the sensible thing was to replace the tyre, but at £28 each (trade price) I decided to Blue Peter up a repair. I used a dab of super glue to seal the little split in the rubber, hoping it didn't contain a solvent that would eat away at the inner latex tube.

That night, I rode out to Crystal Palace to watch the Tuesday night racing before heading home - a 30-mile detour - and was very pleased that the repair held. But the next morning, the tyre was flat so I assumed it hadn't been a success after all.

When I finally got 'round to replacing the tyre a couple of days later, I discovered that the super glue repair had indeed done the trick and that this latest deflation was a bona fide puncture caused by a small shard of glass. It seemed the perfect opportunity to try out one of the puncture sealant options that we sell, so I squeezed in some Tufo extreme sealant and, hey presto!, the tub once more held air.

And all was well again until last weekend.

Our last customer in the shop on Saturday was an extremely enthusiastic new cyclist, and a clubmate, who managed to talk me into riding out to Richmond Park with her for a lap or two. The weather was great and we had Tony's company, too, since that's his route home. It was fun riding together through town, showing them my Thames-hugging route to the park.

Until we turned into Priory Lane and I realised that the softening sensation I'd dismissed as imagined was now undeniably a flat rear tyre.

I was able to ride - carefully - to the Roehampton Gate cafe, where we ran into Stephen (the shop mechanic) who'd been out for a few training laps. While Meagan queued for consolatory ice cream and coffee, Steve helped me find and seal the puncture.

Road Racing PitStop is recommended for use on road tyres up to 25mm. These Challenge tubs are 28mm, so I wasn't sure it would work. The pressurised canister contains a liquid latex - goo, I believe, is the technical term - that simultaneously inflates the tyre and delivers goo to the site of the puncture.

You can see goo oozing from the site of the puncture.

Steve's strong finger held it all together until the latex hardened sufficiently to create an effective seal. (My fingers were occupied with retaining the dribbles of some rapidly-melting pistachio ice cream.)

The PitStop repair held up under another week of commuting until I suffered a catastrophic puncture at Tower Hill one morning. I didn't have another shot of sealant with me, and wasn't prepared to ride alongside the Parade of Murderous Lorries that accompany my usual commute with a flat tub, so was once again reduced to walking in to work. At least my way was cheered by no less than three customers recognising me and calling Hi! from their own bikes as they passed.

Undaunted, I've since replaced that tub. I love the feel of them and at that width (24-28mm) there are a couple of robust and sexy options. I've just got some 27mm Vittoria Pave Evo CG's in reserve for when I have to replace the Challenge P-Rs. You might consider tubs esoteric and think my devotion to them eccentric, but I reckon this is the perfect winter commuting solution.

Wish me luck!