Idaho Stop

I generally operate on logic, and for the best of me, I can't figure out how the "Idaho Stop" law isn't on the books in every state. It's simple, makes sense and still requires cyclists to behave like law-abiding citizens. Aside from that, this animation is visually great, so do yourself a favor, and watch it!


Bicycles, Rolling Stops, and the Idaho Stop from Spencer Boomhower on Vimeo.

Cyclocross Santa Rosa: Doyle Park

There's long been an idea knocking around in my head that I love Sonoma County and want to live there someday. This weekend furthers that notion. What a place on Earth - perhaps the best place.

Team Paul (minus Lau Ackerman, who is undergoing knee surgery. Get well soon Brother Lau!) headed to Santa Rosa for a weekend of rain-soaked muddy cyclocross racing, touring of three breweries in three days, and some bicycle day touring on the Sonoma coast. Mission accomplished: fast-n-dirty racing, brewery trifecta (Russian River Brewing, Bear Republic Brewing, Hopmonk), beautiful coastal riding, great fun and people second to none.

Barrier hoppin' and diggin' in

Roy Steves has some good photos of the team at finals a few weeks back.

My SF Randonneurs Pt. Reyes 200k DNF

I hadn't ridden more than 80 miles in one sitting since the last 200k, but given my decent base, and the fact that I'd been racing cyclocross all winter, I figured I would hop on the bike and ride the season opener with the San Francisco Randonneurs. Great company, world class scenery, possibility of bad weather. Sounds great!

photo by Damien
I was up at 5:30am to go through my normal routine: coffee times two with bagel(s), hot shower, get going. I was staying at a friend's house in Sausalito, so my trip to the bridge was minimal. As I rolled over the Golden Gate to the start control, the wind was howling. I wasn't too worried yet, because the wind always knocks one around on the bridge. The Pacific can blow, and she nearly never feels the need to stop.

As I arrived at the control, nearly everyone seemed to be there. 100 riders (maximum capacity) for this season opener, and the sun itself was still asleep. Bicycle lights were blazing. Reflecto-geeky attire was in full effect. The biggest collection of amazing rando bikes I'd ever seen; Rivendell, Toei, Pelican, Kogswell, Ebisu - they were all there. The women's bathroom was out of order, so women and men were using the same one. As it was my turn, a guy wearing roadie cleats/shoes slipped and fell to the wet public bathroom floor, landing on his tailbone. He sat there, not saying anything. It definitely hurt, given the amount of time he kept his eyes closed, swallowing the pain. He finally eeked out, "well, that's not a good way to start the day." A young woman and I peed next to each other, and then I went to hear Rob Hawks give orders for the day.

The ride started out well. Perfect overcast-yet-dry skies, no wind once we left Sausalito. Warm enough, but cool enough to keep me cool. The bicycle headlights were soon turned off. My stomach didn't feel great though... as if the too-much-garlic from the previous night's pizza was nagging me. I thought it would go away in no time, but in fact it would come back to haunt me.

(photo by JimG)

Compared to the racers I often ride with in Chico, I've noticed that many SF randonneurs don't paceline very well; it felt like more of a loose organism than a tightly controlled wind-breaking machine. Randonneurs could save a lot more time and energy by pacelining properly. That said, it is such a fun group of like-minded folks, I only thought about this fact for a minute or two as the groups became separated by traffic lights, and in the first hills. Then we were mostly alone.

Even though I lived in Marin in the late 90's, rode in Marin, drove in Marin fished in Marin and ran in Marin, I'm always blown away by the beauty of Marin. Every time I come back to visit. There's something about the freshness of the air, the everpresent reminders of the Pacific (fog, mist, sloughs, marshes, seabirds, fishing boats, howling winds) that really make my heart pitter patter like no other place on Earth. I do love it there, yuppies, hippies, grumpies and all. Marin, for me, might hold the best cycling on the planet.

As the affluent and beautiful suburbs of southern Marin passed us by, we headed over White's hill and through San Geronimo Valley, then JimG and I took the off-road option through Samuel P. Taylor State Park. It was a mud-soaked affair, and when we got back on the road, I looked like I'd been in a cyclocross race. It's the same path I rode with Cyclofiend and Jim last fall, and there were a few times I caught myself thinking, "man, I wish the other Jim were riding with us!"



The fences disappear in the west of Marin, and cattle guards become the only man-made containment mechanisms for all the dairy cows. I reckon the country is just too rugged to escape, and the milk gals just can't go anywhere that isn't on the road, so a few steel bars across the road does the trick. In cattle guard country, fat tires are a good thing. And between the cattle guards and metric tons of rain-soaked cow shit and mud, so are fenders.

It's a funny mind game, the route out to the Pt. Reyes Lighthouse. The approach reminds you that for every hill you crest, there is another waiting for you no matter which direction you choose. My strategy was to focus on the unthinkable beauty of the hills falling to the coast, the sun trying to get through the translucent yellow-haloed grey blanket of clouds, and the lack of wind in a land where there are no trees because the wind is generally so bad. Coyote. Deer. Egret. It was a good number of things to take in as we headed west, and while the riding was tough, the experience was sublime.

At mile 45 or so, my Stomach Thing started waking up. I could feel hints of it along the route, but to this point I was still far too excited to let it bother me. I figured I could ride through it. Maybe gas? Lack of salt? Drinking enough? Only ten hard miles to Control #1 at mile 55.

Jim and I rolled into the control, and after getting our brevet cards signed, we heard the volunteer say that there were only about 30 of 100 people ahead of us. Good! We were making great time! I ate half a sandwich, drank the remainder of my first water bottle, and we rolled out, headed back through the hills toward Inverness and Pt. Reyes Station. We spent maybe 10 or 15 minutes at the control.

Back through the hills, my stomach started to go, um, downhill. What was a whisper of a cramp slowly turned into a full blown sour stomach cauldron, Long Knives Drawn episode. But I pedaled on with Jim for 21 miles or so into Pt. Reyes. By this point, I felt feverish, achy, and the stomach thing wasn't going anywhere. I told Jim to just go on without me to the next control in Marshall. I told him I thought I was out of the brevet. I called Claire (my wife) to see where she was, and to ask if need be she could come grab me from Pt. Reyes if need be. She confirmed, but I told her I'd call her later. When Jim left, I got horizontal on a public bench, and thought about my choices. It was an out-and-back 17 mile arm to the Marshall control, and I figured if I could stay down for a bit, things might get better. After a half hour and a cup of coffee from Bovine Bakery, I texted Claire telling her I was bailing on the brevet, but would start riding back toward the Golden Gate. Stand by just in case.

Shortly after I sat up and had thrown a leg over my Saluki, still in Pt. Reyes, I ran into Brian and Gabe, who offered me Tums. My stomach was so rank that I couldn't take the stuff. So off they went toward Marshall, and I decided to click in, and bail on the Marshall control. I just needed to head back.

I pedaled slowly toward Olema, climbed out of Olema toward Samuel P. Taylor state park and Lagunitas. I rolled back through the gravel/mud option that Jim and I cranked through earlier in the day. Alone in the gravel, the quietness of the tree canopy had a soothing effect on my mind, and surprisingly, my stomach started to feel a bit better. I kept the pedals turning much slower than I wanted, but really, there was little choice to be had in the matter, so I took what I could get. I was running on fumes at this point. Exit the park. Sir Francis Drake. Fairfax. San Anselmo. Ross. Kentfield. Camino Alto.

I got to the bottom of Camino Alto as it dumps into Mill Valley, and lo and behold, there's Claire, on her bike with her friend sitting at the traffic light at Blithedale just getting back from their own ride on the Paradise Loop. I was less than a half mile from our truck and her friend's house it turned out, and I had just rolled over 100 miles. Twenty four miles from completing my brevet, and not regretting my choice to abandon. Heck, I still got to climb all the 7700+ feet of hills... I was glad to be done, and looking forward to lying down after a shower.

Almost to my friend's house in Sausalito, I saw my crew (JimG) rolling toward the finish control. In the time that had passed, I had lost a half hour trying to get better, and then my riding pace was slow enough that he nearly caught me, even though I cut 20 miles off the course. That's how slowly I limped back south. Phew! I yelled some words of encouragement to Jim, and headed on up the hill, to hot water and down pillows. The stomach thing was on and off for the remainder of the evening, but today I feel pretty good, albeit a bit sore in the legs.

Could I have finished? I likely could have unless something went terribly wrong. Jim's time was around 9:45, and I imagine I'd have finished an hour after that. The bigger question for me though is, would it have been fun on any level to have stayed out there for another couple of hours fighting bio-failure? Eh, not really. I'm stubborn when it comes to these things, and apparently/obviously I like suffering. But on this day, the fire just wasn't in me to battle my stomach issues, so I made a decision and stuck with it.

I'll be back out there, likely on the Davis 200k in March, the Russian River brevet in April, not to mention some of the upcoming Chico Velo rides.

Notes to self
• didn't use rain jacket or gloves, shoe covers, or extra socks
• ate less than half of the food I packed (gels, bars, dried fruit, beef jerky, figs). Attribute to stomach ailments.
• Left knee was pinging pretty nicely the last 30 miles. Suspect too-wide crankset. Changing this week.
• the borrowed NR MiNewt light was extremely bright, but offered poor mounting options. When on, it interfered with the wireless cyclometer - no reading.
• 44cm bars feel too wide. On this, and other bikes.
• don't do well with onions or garlic. Stay away from it before big rides!

Bringin' it home for Team Paul

by jnkochs

Well, I stuck it out in the C's this season, and brought home the win for Team Paul. As Paul says, ' TEAM PAUL DOMINATES THE SLOW CLASS OF A REALLY SMALL RACE SERIES!'

And so it was, my first cyclocross season, and probably my last season of winning. What does an Overall Winner receive in a tiny race series? Well, for one, a custom etched 1st Place beer mug bigger than my head. Any astute Chico Gino readers realize this may well be a Gift from God in these parts. It's true. We like beer here.

I also received a nice $50 gift certificate to a bike shop in Redding (that's a good number of tubes!), some Yerba Mate, a Redline beanie, and a pint glass from Kona Cycles, which has a sketch of a fella doing a table top on a penny farthing, with the descriptive exclamation, "SICK!". More cycle-themed beer implements... I'm in love.

Oh, I've also been advised to not come back unless I'm willing to move up a class. I guess it's time to start training harder for the B's next fall.

Shasta Race Series Video (Enterprise Park)

Video by Mike Crumm

Hitting your stride

It's not something I'd ever felt before, I can tell you that much. In the season opener of the 2008-2009 Shasta Race Series, I bolted off the Le Mans style start like Richard Pryor when he caught his hair on fire, my strategy: Go Till You Blow.

I got the hole shot.

I mashed out the first climb.

Through the flats and over the barriers, and twisting through the oak-studded single track, I could hear racers bearing down on me. Chains were slapping. People were spitting. One guy tapped my rear tire on a climb, and apologized. Through heaving gasps of desperation I replied something like, "don't worry 'bout it dude, we're in a race!"

They kept breathing down my neck as we worked our way across the course, but the buzz of many slowly turned to fewer. We covered more technical terrain, and then fewer. Upon dismount before the last set of barriers on Lap 1, my cleat got stuck in my pedal, but I managed drag my bike and free myself just before yard sale-ing in front of god and everyone at the chute. There was still the noise of being chased, too close, in fact, and it worried me immensely. Just behind me as I cleared the second barrier, I hear a BANG KLANG THWACK. THUMP. Followed by a hearty, "FUUUUUCK!"

And then silence.

A clear moment of silence. Just me fluidly remounting, trying to keep moving. Click. Pedal in. Click. Other pedal in. Don't hurl. Can you pedal harder? No? Well just try to keep it up.

When the cowbells and familiar voices of my friends and teammates broke the silence that was in my head, I was bombarded by words I'd never heard before: "GO GINO, GO MAN. GO GO GO GO MAN GO YOU'RE OFF THE FRONT!"

I was too scared to flip a glance over my shoulder for fear of veering off course into poison oak, oak trees, or rocks; my pace was still frantic. My pipecleaner legs were on fire. So I kept mashing the pedals, heaving, heart rate at 10% higher than whatever it should've been. The first glance I was able to steal found an empty section of doubletrack behind me about a half mile into the next lap, with no other racers that I could see. But I still didn't trust my eyes, so I mashed on. The first time it really sank in that I was in the lead position was at a 180º switchback, which gave me a clear view of the field. I had gained at least 15 seconds on the closest riders after the crash behind me, and by this point I had settled into a pace that I could maintain. And by maintain, I mean that the puke stayed right behind my epiglottis, rather than the outward side of it.

So here's the thing. I've never been at the front of any sort of race, ever. So I wasn't prepared for the mental switch from offense to defense. I was completely blindsided by the feeling of pedaling out there alone, wondering how much I could back off, but not so much that I would have to fight so hard again. I've only ever been trying to catch someone. This time, I had everything to lose. Focus, man!

For the last two laps, I managed to keep up my pace, avoid crashing, and ended up winning my first race ever. Now I'm fully aware that it's no big accomplishment, winning a Category C race in northern California, especially when I compare it to other things I've done with my life. But for a lifetime average joe athelete, maybe slightly less-than-average, well, it was righteous. I savored every tiny painful second of it, and I've run through the details of how I could've been faster a thousand times in my head. And if it never happens again, well, it happened once, and this once I got to taste victory. And victory doesn't suck! Especially when it comes with a 1st Place Pilsner glass and a $20 purse!

To use a cliché, sometimes the stars just align. Sometimes you cast that perfect loop with your favorite bamboo flyrod. Today, for me, it was winning this cyclocross race. But in my personal bigger picture, I feel like Claire and I have really hit a stride in Chico that feels juicy, and solid, and indescribably Good and Fun. We're squeezing this place for everything it has to offer, and it has taken three and a half years of living here to get to this point. And it feels like it only keeps getting better. We have an amazing, no AMAZING, group of friends - in Chico, and in the bay area. Our jobs are currently both going a million miles an hour and keeping us traveling all over California all the time, and for that I count my blessings daily. I have a wife that I'm nutso over, and we just celebrated five years of being hitched; it still rocks to see her every single day. We both get along with our parents, and even like them all. We live in a town that has three farmers markets every week. We eat fruit and veggies out of our own garden from May until late December. Even our neighbors, while half crazy or half redneck or both, are perfectly fine neighbors. Our health isn't horrible.

You know, things are just good right now when it's all said and done. Sometimes it's probably a good idea to step back, and write down all the goodness, because sometimes the badness can overshadow it. Sure, there are plenty of things that are bad-to-awful in my life, and they could each get me down. But not me, not now.

All of this, which is to say Happy Thanksgiving! Unless you're starving in a desert with no water and no way out, you probably have something to be thankful for. Just give it a thought, eh?

Oh, and here's the proof. Go Team Paul!

Cyclocross! Chico's annual Cross Dress Cross Race

Cyclocross: Galland Cross Dress Cross Race 2008 from Gino on Vimeo.

In my head, this is what Cyclocross feels like.

This particular event is a yearly semi-private gathering of friends at Casa Galland in Chico, California. We get together and dress up like girls, drink beer, race cyclocross, and then drink more beer. See, Chico and bikes and beer go hand in hand.

Thanks to the Bronx (without permission) for the music. You guys rawk. Hard. thebronxxx.com/

Product Review: El Duke degreaser

El Duke (doo-kay)
Originally uploaded by Gino

After a quick test on a nasty cassette and chain, soybean-oil-based (which means biodegradable and non-toxic!) El Duke (pronounced El Doo-kay) degreaser rocks it. Makes gakked up parts shiny, smooth, good.

Sorry Park, but El Duke is my new way to get stuff clean. It's solid. Plus, a dog with a bone logo is unbeatable in itself. You know how we do.

You can get yer own El Duke here.

A Bicycle Light Mount for the Masses

After nearly six months of waiting, it's finally here folks: The Gino Light Mount, by Paul Component Engineering.

This bicycle light mount is designed to do two things:

1) get your bicycle headlight down low, where it should be. Handlebars are not a great spot to mount a headlight. (more on that below)

2) hold about 99% of every battery powered handlebar-mount style bicycle headlight on any 5mm (M5) brazeon that is on your bicycle. So, if you have a little front rack, or mid-fork brazeons, or even eyelets for fenders near your fork dropouts, then the Gino Light Mount will help you better light your way. It can also work for tail lights.

But Gino, why do I want my headlight down low?
Great question! A light that is mounted lower casts a beam that is closer to parallel to the ground, which results in a less bright beam that lets you see further ahead. And yes, the lower light casts more shadows from bumps, cracks and potholes, which is precisely what you want a light to do. Show me the surface irregularities, man!

The mount has undergone many thousands of miles of testing at this point, including a 500 mile tour of California, the Rocky Mountain 1200k, dozens of mixed-terrain rides, and countless
daily commutes, with good results! Here is one review: http://readytoride.biz/?p=342

That said, get your Gino Light Mount at the Paul store.

For more on bicycle lighting, and why down-low is better, see:
Bicycle Quarterly Volume 5, Number 2

You can also check out a bunch of long-distance bicycles that have been tested by BQ, nearly all of which have the lights mounted low, here.

Wheels North: Help medical research and (maybe) win a Richard Sachs frame

Wheels North is a bicycle adventure led by Eric Norris that is recreating the epic 1909 adventure of two young bicyclists, from Santa Rosa, California, to Seattle, Washington. Aside from an epic cycle adventure, Eric & crew are raising money for Histiocytosis research.

This description is from the Hystiocytosis Association of America:

Histiocytosis is a rare blood disease that is caused by an excess of white blood cells called histiocytes. The histiocytes cluster together and can attack the skin, bones, lung, liver, spleen, gums, ears, eyes, and/or the central nervous system. The disease can range from limited involvement that spontaneously regresses to progressive multiorgan involvement that can be chronic and debilitating. In some cases, the disease can be life-threatening.

About the frame you have a 1 in 100 chance of winning
Richard Sachs has been building bicycle frames since 1972, working entirely by hand in his Connecticut workshop (see his work at www.richardsachs.com). He has such a rabid following that his wait list for a frame is SIX years.

If you don't already own a Richard Sachs, this auction may be your last chance to order a frame. Richard stopped taking orders from new customers in August, but held a spot open for this auction. But more importantly, your $100 donation will go toward research for Histiocyctosis.

Proceeds from the raffle benefit the Histiocytosis Association of America and the Wheels North fundraising ride. For more info: www.histio.org and www.wheelsnorth.org

You can buy your raffle ticket here.

Rawland getting picked up by local dealer?

JimG sent me a link today to the blog of Marin County-based Black Mountain Cycles:

"There were two booths at [Interbike] that had bikes I place in the category of "bikes-I-didn't-design-but-would-like-to-own." The first is the new Salsa Fargo. The second were the bikes from Rawland... Thinking about why I like the bikes from these two brands, I see that they both have something in common: fat tires and drop bars. The combination doesn't get any better."

I can't say that I disagree... want to read it all?

Product Reviews: Ibex wool cycling gear

I've been meaning to write a review on a few pieces of Ibex wool for about six months now, but I've been busier riding and using said gear than writing about it. As fall sets in, I find myself with a free afternoon full of ball sports that I'll never watch on TV, so now seems like a good time to tell you about some of the best pieces of clothing I own.

Let's start with the garment that kicked off this love affair:

El Fito 3/4 knickers

Really, the Ibex experience starts with their packaging. It's kind of a low-fi nature-y version of the Apple unboxing experience (if you don't know what it's like to unbox an Apple product, go find someone with an Apple product box!). The products come in thin, minimalistic Ibex-branded boxes, and the whole experience is simply refined. It's a pleasure to open, and I think Ibex's attention to these tiny details simply reflects their dedication to making very fine wool products. The detail carries over to everything they make. I bet JimG rolled his eyes on this entire paragraph. :-)

Right, so the knickers. I purchased the El Fito knickers late in 2007 directly from Ibex. Over the winter, I was able to ride a couple of centuries, lots of mixed terrain rainy rides, and a few 70+ mile warmer days until Chico really started to cook in June. The stitching is second to none, and the weight of the knickers is definitely that of a company based in New England. It's pretty thick. Not uncomfortably thick - just thick enough to know you're wearing really high quality wool. The 'Climawool Lite' knee panels allow great movement without getting wonky in shape, no matter how long you wear them or go without washing them. The chamois is of similar quality to the priciest Pearl Izumi chamois I've ridden. I don't ever think about it, so it must be doing its job. Overall, I love the knickers. They're the perfect three season (northern California) cycling knickers. For those on the CA coast, they're easily a 4-season piece of gear. My wife, Claire, rides in the women's version exclusively, unless it's 100º outside.

I do have one gripe about the El Fito, but first a little tangent.

South by Southwest happens every year in Austin, TX, and like most years, I went for the Interactive part of the conference/festival. SXSW 2008 led me to a wonderful meeting with a rep from Ibex, at the Bikehugger party. I told her that I loved my knickers, but that the waistband must have been designed with either A) fat people or B) big butts in mind. See, the knickers fit perfectly, except that the waist band is about 2" too high for a skinny guy like me. The result is that the knickers work their way down as I ride, leaving a host of room for my, umm, junk to move around, the result of which would be chafing if one weren't careful. I've figured out that by simply rolling down the waistband TWO full times, no sagging, and thus no rubbing occurs. There's the gripe. If you're skinny, prepare to roll the waistband. If you have a gut, you're set, although you probably won't wear a size Small either.

Anyway, the Ibex rep (I'm leaving her name out on purpose) gave me an Ibex wool beanie at the Bikehugger party, and after a great conversation about product design, bikes and blogs, I gave her my card. A few weeks later, a tidy little package marked Ibex showed up at my house. But first:

the Ibex BeanieI don't know what one can really say about a beanie, but I can tell you that it is now my most-worn winter head garb. I took it on our Tour of the California Coastal Breweries (where it's always winter), and after a week of wearing it without washing it, it was just fine, and didn't stink at all. I slept in it every night, rode with it most mornings, and it's an indispensable piece of my bike wardrobe.

So that package showed up, and in it was a spanking new...

Arrivee Ibex bib short
Wool bib? I've never owned a bib, but I'm now sold on bibs now for certain types of riding. I sported this thing all spring and summer in Chico for all sorts of riding on and off road. In case you don't know, summer in Chico means HOT HOT HEAT, and I don't deal well with heat. The Arrivee bib never feels uncomfortable, and when it's super hot, just dribble some water down the mesh on your back and poof: instant air conditioning. I don't know if they intended that as a feature, but it's enough for me to buy another one when this one wears out. Oh, and the potential rubbing issues that I experience with the El Fito are completely erased with the bib. The first time I wore it on a 50 or 60 mile hilly ride, I did come home with tender nipples due to the shoulder straps. Hey, I'm just sayin'. I guess my nips leathered up though, because I no longer have that issue.

The Arrivee has the same OCD attention to detail as the knickers; the quality is equivalent to the price tag. Interestingly, I've learned through experience that there are a few times I won't wear it: brevets, camping and/or touring. Why? Well, it's a real pain when you find yourself having to do the #2 with a bib strapped over your shoulders. Just think of the logistics. I'd not considered it, but I discovered it on an alpine ride in the southern Cascades. It's something to consider! OK, I'll stop with that. If you're a racer or weekend warrior who doesn't like plastic clothing, get the Arrivee bib. If you have a big gut and tend to show crack, get the Arrivee bib. It's possibly the perfect piece of gear for all but the longest of rides. And even then, that's just my personal preference.

SummaryI've since purchased Ibex leg warmers, and tested their arm warmers (on the summer tour); each product leads me to the same old boring story: I love the stuff Ibex makes. It costs a shiny nickel, no doubt. But if you can come up with the coin, you can rest assured that your Ibex duds will do you right, and last for a long, long time. I'm thousands of miles into these Ibex products, and none are showing signs of wear yet. Once I get my hands on a couple of pairs of their merino cycling shorts, my departure from plastic will be complete.

The only difference between a cult and a religion is the amount of real estate they own

(Title, courtesy of Frank Zappa)

Todd Teachout

Todd Teachout
Originally uploaded by Gino

I rode with Todd for 30 miles or so on the recent RUSA 200k 10th Anniversary brevet in Marin county. It was my first brevet, and a wonderful cycling experience. Marin and Sonoma truly are cycling heaven on earth.

(Thanks for the pull!)

El Gran Tour de bicicletas de la costa Cervecerías 2008

Update: Tour photos are here.

This Friday, Jeff and I are headed out for a 420 mile self-supported tour from Brookings, Oregon to San Francisco. This is a first for both of us; for Jeff it's a way to celebrate his 40th year, and for me it's a celebration of living in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and being lucky enough to know people like Jeff.

Our route will traipse the coastline, and we've designed it with the intention of sampling the yields of as many coastal breweries as possible, hence our broken Spanish title: El Gran Vuelta de bicicletas de la costa Cervecerías 2008, which poorly translates to The Grand Bicycle Tour of the Coastal Breweries 2008. We thought about a French title, but really, this is California...

As regular readers may know, we are both beer connoisseurs of sorts, and there are simply too many breweries along our lovely coastline to just pedal past. So, on the list for this tour:

Humboldt Brewing, Arcata
Lost Coast Brewery & Café, Eureka
Eel River Brewing, Fortuna
Six Rivers Brewery, McKinleyville
North Coast Brewing, Fort Bragg
Iron Springs Pub & Brewery, Fairfax

And we may very well end the tour at 21st Amendment in San Francisco.

Several of my favorite breweries are just barely not on this course, including Russian River Brewing, Lagunitas, and Mendocino Brewing. Those plus several more are all in Sonoma county, and that sounds to me like a good three day weekend tour for a different time. :-)

Now I know that was an awful lot about beer, but really this tour is only slightly about sampling local beers along the way. In fact, it's hardly about beer at all.

It's mostly about moving along a ravishing and world-famous coastline under our own power, and on our own time.

Take photos. Stop to drink in the scenery; hopefully feel the fog, and if we're lucky, a bit of rain. Take any suffering in stride, and know that suffering is likely of our own doing, and that the sum total of the adventure is pure pleasure. See the coast in a way that most people never will. Camp out all but one night. Watch cable television the night we don't sleep out. Maybe see some stars and ocean and moonlight over the water. Get really dirty and definitely stinky. Ride these miles and have this adventure now, because I have no idea what tomorrow will deal.

That's what this is about for me.

Jeff is riding his SOMA Double Cross, and I, my Rivendell Saluki. We've given them several loaded riding tests, done some S24O trips this year, and I think we're ready. We've planned each day's route (over a couple beers), and that's pretty much nailed down. I've been testing a bunch of wool gear from Ibex all summer, and this tour will be the final beat down on that stuff before I write up several product test reports (including arm/leg warmers, knicker/tights, and a bib.).

Special thanks goes out to our families (my wife, his wife and daughter) for giving us the time and freedom to do this. THANK YOU!

Until we return, keep 'em turnin'!

Leaving Chico for a month of riding

Due to the fires and smoke that are consuming our area of northern California, Claire and I have decided to stay in Marin County for a month or two. Our home is fine, just smoked in. The way I see it, this stay in Marin will be a nice break from the smoke and heat, a chance to catch up with a lot of bay area friends, and a chance ride my bike every day in the wonderful coastal California weather. And, we'll still come home from time to time.

Butte county is currently down to five "active" fires, one of which is over 53,000 acres. CalFire is saying that the big one should be contained by the end of July. Contained doesn't mean out though. Best of luck to everyone in Chico, and all the brave people that have been risking their lives to fight the fires. Thank you.

My company has a San Francisco office, and I plan to make as much use of it as possible during our stay. I have my trusty Saluki, and will ride it over the Golden Gate most mornings to downtown SF. Sometimes I'll ride to the CalTrain station in SF, and shoot down to Mountain View to work HQ. The weekends will hopefully be spent riding with Claire, as well as some of the super swell San Francisco Randonneurs. I kicked it off by riding with JimG, Carlos and Greg this past weekend on a challenging mixed terrain ride in southern/west Marin. I'll have to ride the entire route next time...

The end of July will be broken up by a 420 mile tour from Brookings, Oregon to San Francisco with my good buddy Jeff, and that will put us into August.

Then, hopefully the air quality in Chico will be back to suitable for healthy life, and we can head home. If not, well, I could get used to this Marin County thing. I lived here almost 10 years ago, and had forgotten how nice it is, if you simply ignore all the foofy goofy people.

The S24O and beer

In my little world of bike camping, my fellow Chicoans seems to have a hankering for tasty suds after a hot summer ride. And they (and by 'they' and mean 'we') like them cold. Really though, who doesn't want to swill a cold one when camping on a summer day?

With this in mind, could this backpack cooler be modified to work on a rack? If so, it might be the perfect hot weather beer carrying pannier. With that in mind, I'd love to hear feedback from anyone who has devised a good beer carrier for S24Os.

Thanks to Design House Stockholm for such simple and useful design.

Back in the olden days

Old Skool Gino
Originally uploaded by aerocha

It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle.~Ernest Hemingway

Rivendell Bombadil: my two week fling

I recently had the opportunity to thoroughly test ride the 52cm twin-top-tubed Rivendell Bombadil prototype, and in short, I can sum it up like this: the Bombadil is a bike that is going to take you by surprise.

Rivendell touts La Bomba as "a stout-tubed mountain bike for rough riding and heavy loads. It's not Dutch-heavy, but by contemporary standards of expensive, fine bicycles, it's out there on the edge."

The one thing I thought when I first picked it up was, "man, this thing is light!" I wasn't the only one that thought so; every cyclist friend that happened to stop by my house during my time with the Bomba said the same thing, neither coaxed nor influenced by me.

Setup
Grant had set the bike up for himself, and I imagine it has been his main steed for a while, as he's working out the kinks and tweaking things. So, when I picked the bike up, I took it as is.


La Bomba was wearing the new Pacenti Quasi-moto 650Bx2" tires, which are billed as Pacenti's hardpack tire. I could post another review on those tires, but I'll just be quick here and report that they are easily as nice as any XC race tire I've ever used, and I used a lot of race tires back in my off-road triathlon days. They're tacky, they roll wonderfully, and the plush factor is that of a Cadillac. Great tires, and I'm praying that Kirk's new smaller knobby will fit my Bleriot.


The cockpit was set up with 46cm Noodles, and thumb mount shifters on the flat part of the bar. It was also fitted with a new style Tektro brake lever (not sure of the model) that featured a smooth spoon-like lever - excellent to the touch. Some purists might cry heresy over the V-brakes, but they were just fine for me.

The first thing I did was lower the bars a couple of feet (kidding! only a couple of inches!). After banging it out for a couple of weeks, I would have preferred a flat mountain-style handlebar. I found that in Chico's extremely technical volcanic terrain, that I needed to be in the drops quite a lot simply to have more leverage on the brakes. This is more a result of the terrain where I live, and my personal preferences, so don't take it as a recommendation or anything like that.

The biggest gripe I had with Grant's handlebar setup were the friction thumb shifters. I use friction thumbies on my Bleriot, but on this bike they never quite, um, clicked for me. Firstly, the thumbies felt in the way when I rode with my hands on the flat part of the bar. Lastly, every time I used the top-n-flat part of the bar, the jarring terrain would cause my hands to slightly touch the shifters. After a few minutes of riding I'd have to trim the shifter a bit to remove chain rub and/or unintended rear shifts.

Again, I feel like this is a result of the terrain here. If I rode smoother single track, fire roads, reg'lar roads or gravel roads it would have never been an issue. Below is a photo of a "trail" in Chico on which I tested the Bombadil.


If I were to set up my own Bombadil for pure off-road riding in the Chico/Sierras/Shasta area, I'd use a mountain flat bar and MTB brake levers with trigger shifters. The versatility of this bike shines when thinking about how to set it up though, because you could rig it as a pure mountain bike, a touring bike, an Epic Tour Through Tibet bike, or just a great all-rounder. Any of these setups would suit the Bombadil.

The bike has three bottle cage mounts, and I used two of them. When I first saw the double top tube, I wondered if the second top tube would get in the way when pulling the water bottle from the cage; it didn't.

It's probably my racing past, but I found myself wanting my Camelbak simply so I could pedal and drink while humping over the volcanic baby heads in the trail. Bottle cages + mountain biking over rough terrain = stop every time you want to drink.

The last thing I'll mention about the setup were the pedals. The left pedal was a Grip King, and the right pedal was one of those bad boy Spyder BMX pedals from Tioga. Hands down, for grippyness, the Spyder pedal wins. Even when wet with slick-soled shoes, the Spyder remained sticky. The Spyder pedal also has little spikes installed, which caused a few flashbacks to dented bloody shins, and those BMX Bear Trap pedals we used to use in the early 80s. The surface is significantly smaller on the Spyder than the Grip King though, so over a longer ride, the Grip King becomes the more comfortable pedal.

One other pedal observation I made when riding over Big Rock Technical Stuff is that due to its longer base and thicker body, the Grip King tended to cause more pedal strikes than the Spyder. Clipless pedals would likely eliminate the issue completely. Heh.


The Ride & Handling
The bike was fitted with the Tubus cargo rack, and a Nitto front rack, which I didn't load or use. So with that in mind, everything up next is in the context of riding without any loads.

Handling is where the Bombadil gets creepy. And by creepy I mean Awesome™. I've ridden one other mountain bike (my USA-made Schwinn Homegrown Factory Pro) that was so sure-footed, so easy to turn at any speed, or that tracks so well when huffing up steep-and-technical pitches at 2mph. When grinding up the most technical terrain, I simply pointed the front wheel, mashed the pedals, and it just went. It just felt like riding a caterpillar (the bug, not the tractor) that slinks over every object you put in its path. Gooey would be a good descriptor. I'm sure this certainly had to do with the Pacenti tires, but the bike's geometry is certainly at work as well. Off-camber turns? Tight switchbacks? No problem.

I was absolutely SHOCKED to find out, after (hesitantly) returning the bike that the trail figure for the Bombadil is 68mm. Make of that what you will.

I'm no weight weenie, but I'm certainly conscious of it in my bikes. Not once when climbing, descending, or riding fire roads or singletrack did it cross my mind that the Bombadil is a heavy bike. I wouldn't race on the Bombadil, but that isn't what it is made for.

Summary
If you have the coin to put down for an exquisitely crafted lugged steel mountain/adventure touring/touring/do-all 650B cycle, the Bombadil might be the bike for you. At $1600 for the frame and fork, it is more in the Mercedes-Benz Gelaendewagen category of off road vehicles. But the enjoyment of the craftsmanship, detail, performance, and interesting conversations that will happen as a result of owning it are, in my opinion, worth it.

I don't know what the final design of the bike is going to look like; I have no idea about the two top tubes, the trail figures, or anything else. But, based on the bike that I ran through the ringer, I wouldn't change a thing about the frame and fork.