Grail bikes

are different for everyone.

Like the old saw "one man's treasure is another man's trash," grail bikes mean different things to different riders. For some, an antique frame fits the bill, for others it's the latest and greatest (and lightest) plastic wunderbike.

The term "grail bike" is derived from "Holy Grail," describing the ultimate artifact of early Christianity sought during the Middle Ages. Grail bikes tend to hold their value over time and are often unique, rare, or simply difficult to come by.

At this stage of my life, my grail bikes are the classic racers: Colnagos, De Rosas, Pinarellos, Bianchis, and Merckxs,.

NEWS FLASH!!

A grail bike has arrived on my doorstep! It's a late-80s Pinarello Montello road bike, the pinnacle of the  maker's craftsmanship in it's time.

It's red (no surprise there) and built with modern Campy components (i.e. Ergo powerlevers and wide-range Chorus rear derailleur.) Like most Pinarellos of its time, it also has peeling/missing decals.

Are grail bikes too "nice" to ride? I'd say "yes" if the bike in question is truly rare or a collector's item, or if the original components would be difficult to replace. The Montello does not fall into any of those categories, so it will be a rider.

Now it's time to thin the herd. I've already sold an unfinished frameset (1986 red Centurion Ironman), and there are two others in the wings, an Ironman Expert and a Paramount OS, waiting prep and sale.

Keep peadling!

Horatio

Metric success

I, and a couple of buddies, completed a 100 km ride last Saturday, an event we planned to coincide with a fund-raiser our church supports annually.


One of my buddies, Scott, is new to cycling as an adult. He started riding last fall, and in the time since then, he has become a strong rider. He challenges me to match his speed on the flats, but struggles on the climbs because of his weight. The other rider in our trio, Kevin, is the fittest of us all. (There's always one in every crowd, right?) Me? I'm somewhere in between the two.

Because he tends to go all-out for relatively short distances (25-30 miles) I was concerned that Scott had not properly trained himself to ride at lower intensities, and that he would not have enough stamina for 60+ miles. I was not worried about Kevin.

(Honestly, I thought the same of myself after a hilly 55-miler in early April when I came close to bonking.)

Personally, I was plagued by questions of how much (or little) food, liquid, supplies etc. to bring on the metric ride. I decided on three water bottles, a bag of fig bars, a banana and a fruit/nut bar, and my usual tools, the only limitation being how much I could stuff in my jersey pockets!

Turns out the worries were for naught, but I wish I had packed a wet wipe for clean-up (I dropped my chain within the last 15 miles and had nothing but my shorts with which to clean my hands.)

Truth be told, we had come close to riding 100 km on several occasions, so in the back of my mind I knew we could do it. It was just a matter of going a little farther and conserving a little more energy. We planned a rest stop at the 40-mile mark and took about a 20-minute break. At that point I knew I had enough supplies left to finish the ride. The question was did I have enough juice left in the legs, since the last third of the course had the steepest climbs.

Aside from a little stiffness in my thighs because of the prolonged break, the last third of the ride was manageable, even with the hills. My confidence in Scott and myself to finish grew with every mile that rolled by.

My friend commented he was "out of gas" about mile 60, and he had another six miles to ride to get home, but at that point the hilly sections were behind us. He recovered quickly and we pushed on. I followed my friends partway home, then turned back and rode home myself, finishing with about 65 miles.

I was a little sore when I dismounted, but not wiped out. Even my butt felt ok.

As I walked the Ironman to the front door, I wondered how much farther we could have gone.

In the end, I completed the ride in 3 hours 49 minutes (moving time), with an average speed of 16.8 mph. My heart rate averaged 159 bpm.

Not bad at all. Another goal/challenge met. Now to plan for a full imperial century, and then a 200 km event before the fall.

Keep pedaling!

Horatio

Addictions

come in all types. Typically we think of addiction in terms of substances/drugs/alcohol. But what about... bikes?

Webster's defines addicted as : to devote or surrender (oneself) to something habitually or obsessively <addicted to gambling.


Sounds like cycling would qualify as "habitual," at least when it is done regularly.

Addiction has a negative connotation, and typically refers to behaviors that are detrimental to ones physical well-being.

But saying I am addicted to bicycles and riding them obviates the positive cardiovascular and psychological benefits associated with our favorite form of exercise.

But what role do endorphins, the body's natural opiate-like secretions, play in our commitment to cycling? Learn more here. Endorphins bind to the body's opiate receptors in the brain to lessen perception of pain. They also produce euphoria.

But unlike chemical opiates (morphine, etc.) endorphins are NOT addictive. Since there is no evidence of physical dependence on these neurotransmitters, it must be a psychological craving. It's an addiction of the mind rather than the body.

On most of my rides I find myself in a state of mental neutrality. My usual thoughts and concerns are pushed into the background, and my thoughts are centered more in the "now," i.e. on what is happening (monitoring heart rate or respiration, reaching for a water bottle) or about to happen (like avoiding a pothole or piece of debris in the road, anticipating a shift because of the terrain.)

I also find I am addicted to perusing Craigslist and eBay bike ads, and this is probably more of the obsessive variety, as it is potentially harmful to my bank account! I've managed to satisfy my cravings by purchasing bike parts (wheelsets, shifters, etc.) when a good deal comes along. But I'm always checking out the full-bike ads, working out bids and offers in my head. Occasionally I lose my willpower and place a bid or offer on something.

Recently, I swapped my aluminum Trek 1500 for a vintage steel Bianchi Brava (in celeste, of course) in an even trade. The transaction was prompted by a desire I've always had for things Bianchi, especially when they come in celeste wrapping.

Was it a fair trade? From a capatalistic perspective, I probably got the proverbial "short end of the stick." From an aesthetic point of view, I got the sexier bike.

Which outcome is most "correct" depends on your perspective, I suppose.

After all, as long as it's legal and no one gets hurt, what's the harm?

Keep pedaling!

Catching up

Wow. It's been more than a month since my last post. Hard to believe that Spring is nearly over for us in the Southeast.

It's true... summer temps in the 90s are predicted this week, and before you know it, the afternoon heat indices will top 100 degrees. Riding in that kind of heat is just not possible, for me. I nearly had heat stroke on a day with temps in the high 80s last May, so I tend to be wary of riding in really hot weather.

I'm more careful now.

Starting (and finishing) early makes a difference.

Going retro?

I've been forced to use down tube shifters again since acquiring the Basso, and the weird thing is I like it!

I'm fully prepared to modernize it with a 9-speed Campagnolo group, but I'm wondering should I bother?

Inspired by this thread on my favorite internet forum, I decided to put a newer wheelset  with an 8-speed cassette on the Basso to assess friction shifting across eight cogs. A secondary motivation was to determine how different tires would affect the bike's handling, especially on rough surfaced descents.

With only a couple of rides completed, I have the impression that shifting is certainly no worse, and perhaps more accurate, with less throw of the lever. I'm also getting the hang of shifting both levers with one hand, generally the left. I find this intriguing as I'm right-handed, but the more I think about it, the more sense it makes because the left hand shifts on the front, which usually requires an up or down shift on the rear. The hand is already there, so why not use it?

It was a different matter when I got back into cycling four years ago. My 1988 Nishiki road bike seemed outdated, even primitive. Reaching down to shift was uncomfortable for my (bad) lower back. I was convinced I needed integrated shifters. At first I wanted to "upgrade" the Nishiki, but that would have meant new everything: front and rear derailleurs and a new wheelset, cassette, etc. in addition to the shifters. It made more sense to buy something new or slightly used.

So, I started pricing bikes. Sticker shock stopped me cold. I was leaning towards an aluminum  Specialized Roubaix with a 9-speed Ultegra group ($1800 at the time.) I fell in love with a carbon Roubaix, but it was even more expensive. My research led me to look at aluminum frames, for stiffness and efficiency as well as affordability, and I ended up with a gently used Trek 1500. Thrilled to be riding again, I really enjoyed the integrated shifting.

Since then I've occasionally toyed with the idea of getting a carbon bike. I mean, some of the designs are really sexy (as far as bikes go.) When I got the bug for a new bike in 2010, I actually rented several carbon and aluminum bikes, just to see how the alloy frame I wanted compared to its carbon cousins. I preferred the less-expensive aluminum over the entry-level carbon bikes. For my style of riding, there was not enough difference in performance and ride quality to justify the extra expense.

So, as long as I'm comfortable riding the Basso as-is, and the friction shifting is a non-issue, I doubt I'll update it. It's just a lot of fun and a welcome change of pace.

Keep pedaling!


Horatio

My favorite plants and trees

are in full bloom! Wisteria blossoms fill in the empty spaces of still-dormant trees with a purplish-hued cascade of foliage. Dogwood trees dot the landscape with splashes of yellow, white and pink.

Everywhere I turn I see an explosion of color...

and an explosion of pollen!

It's the time of year for extreme contrasts - warmer days, cool nights and frequent storms as nature transitions from dormancy to full force growth and regeneration.

It's also the season when we cyclists transition from limited activity to full-bore training and racing.

The advent of longer days and warmer temps tends to make me want to push myself and go all-out, just from the simple joy of getting out on the bike anytime I want. For me, the hardest part of this time of the year is to reel it in and not fall prey to overtraining.

As a prime example, yesterday I had a goal of riding three hours at my "endurance" pace (HR 149-159 bpm), but because there are hills everywhere I turn, my HR  often exceeded 170 bpm, and I frequently observed it in the mid-160s. For the entire ride it averaged 159 bpm, the upper limit of my endurance zone.

That was the same average I managed last week on one of my "brisk" rides, when I was out pushing 20+ mph on the flats. So, am I overtraining on my endurance rides or undertraining on my workouts? Only time will tell.

I have yet to keep a regular training schedule. There are just too many interruptions. But I manage to enjoy the time I do spend riding, and perhaps that's more important than setting and attaining arbitrary performance goals.

If you're riding with a narrow focus all the time, you're bound to miss a lot of pleasurable sights and sensations along the way.

Keep pedaling!


Horatio

Randonneuring plans on hold

This was to be the year for me to venture forth on a randonee or two before summer, and I had every intention of preparing to ride a 200 km event in early April. However, fate (or what-have-you) has stepped in to dash my early season plans once again.

It seems there's always something in the winter months (other than weather) that prevents me from building up endurance times. Shorter days are partly to blame, but there is more variability from parental obligations than anything else.

I had also planned to build the Roberts Audax into a full-blown randonneuse by this time, but it is still sitting disassembled on the back porch. It desperately needs a new paint job, and the funds for that are being diverted into other outlets (like the recently-acquired Basso, plus various spare parts I run across on CraigsList that are too good to pass up on.)

So, where do things stand at this point?

I've pushed the target date for completing an official randonee back to the fall. I'm in no hurry to "get 'er done," so a change in the timeframe is no real concern. On a positive note, I have noticed an improvement in fitness over the course of several weeks, so I have probably met most of my base training requirements.

The main thing to work on now is endurance. With warmer morning temps just around the corner, I can leave home early on any given Saturday, get in rides of several hours, and be home in time for other responsibilities.

If things go well I will do a three-our ride this weekend to assess endurance capability. I can manage 2.5 hour rides with little trouble, so 3+ hours should be manageable.

I'll also devise my own 100 km route to ride sometime before it gets hot, so I can practice nutrition and hydration techniques (as well as pacing!) prior to an official randonee.

Hopefully the Roberts will be ready for trials by then.


Keep pedaling!