Toxic ProTour teams

For the last few years I had been wondering about the "carbon footprint" of the big bike races. Especially the big tours and classics in France, Italy, etc.

Well, just recently Lennard Zinn (of VeloNews) fielded just this question. While he wasn't able to provide much of an answer (other than "huge", which I'd agree with) he DID mention a ghastly practice of many of the team mechanics-- cleaning bike with diesel fuel! And then just dumping the rinsate on the parking lots which then drain into nearby waterways.

I’ll let you calculate that, as I don’t know how to do it. I would imagine that on average each of the 22 teams has five station wagons with roof racks full of bikes, one bus and one truck, all of which drive an average of 200km per day. Then of course there’s laundry, food, lodging, etc. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg compared to the entire race itself. Think of all of the transport of race barriers, grandstands, concessions, start village, etc., not to mention transport and lodging of the fans, publicity caravan, media, organizers, etc. Big footprint.

But if you’re interested in environmental impacts of the race, nothing grates me more than team mechanics who continue to use diesel fuel to clean bikes, spraying it and dumping it in parking lots of, for example, seaside hotels along the Lido di Jesolo in the days before the Giro’s start. Many do use biodegradable cleaners, but plenty don’t, and the first rainstorm it goes right in the Adriatic.
Lennard

(Excepted from VeloNews Technical Q&A with Lennard Zinn)

What the hell?

I think that the ProTour teams need an injection of badassery. Enough of this ridiculous pampering and ourtrageous pollution.

They need to ride a dirty bike and have it last. A dirty bike is a working bike.

Contrary to what the nicenastys over at BKW may claim about looking PRO, some buildup of road grime or mud actually demonstrates PRO-ness. The dirt says "I ride." A dirty bike and a well-maintained bike aren't mutually exclusive.

For most of the time all my bikes have encrustations of dirt. When they do get cleaned it's typically a "dry" cleaning-- a toothbrush gets rid of excessive buildup. A good chain-lube precludes the need for constant degreasings and cleanings.

Last chance to see...

Here's a short video overview of Cannondale's manufacturing process. It's a trip watching the robotic wheel truer.

How Stuff Works: Assembly Line: Cannondale Bicycles

This was pretty much the reason why I liked Cannondale bikes so much.

It's interesting to see how many of the people don't look like the type to ride bikes. I mean, I suppose one could be a NASCAR (I'm recalling the guy who seemed to have a NASCAR-themed deco on his welder's helmet) and still hit the trails on a bicycle. But that's just my bias-- I would never work in a car or motorcycle factory because I don't really like internal combustion engine vehicles.

Perhaps a job is just a job. :)


Holy H. Crow-- do I sound like a dork or what?

Fighting for the right to drive a car

You may or may not know this, but in Saudi Arabia women are not allowed to drive a car. Apparently it's not law, just custom.

A 24 year-old Saudi woman, Areej Khan, recently completed her MFA thesis at the School of Visual Arts in Manhattan. Her project "We The Women" is a campaign to spur debate (and dialog) about Saudi women's right to drive a car.

Part of her project are little downloadable "speech bubbles" that women can download and print out, then write in their thoughts and post them publicly. Car windows, utility poles, etc.

Flickr page showing the "declarations".

Her project is getting a lot of attention. Here's a blog post on The New York Times. In it the author quotes another story by the English-language paper Arab News:

"...most women believe it is their God-given right to drive."

Let me start out by saying this: I feel that the oppression of one group by another is a blight on humanity. More to the point it's just cowardly.

I find the notion that driving an automobile is a "God given right" a bit perplexing. But that's just my perspective from the "bottomless bike culture" of Portland, Oregon. I've never felt that a driver's license was a right; it is a privilege.

I see so many ills associated with autos: traffic jams, road rage, pollution, the ruination of neighborhoods, and the current dire financial troubles of the US auto manufacturers (because people stopped buying so many cars).

It makes me feel a little sad that women in Saudi Arabia are clamoring, not just for freedom of choice, but to don the yokes of automobiles that their men have had around their necks for so long.

No no no... I'm not insinuating that women are somehow better off without the "right" to drive. I'm thinking laterally here.

Maybe the women of Saudi Arabia should look to the bicycle for liberation. After all, that's what happened here in the USA in the late 1800's.

Susan B. Anthony is credited with saying that the bicycle had "...done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world."

The bicycle added fuel to the "women's movement" of the late 1800's and enable women to take control of their lives in a way previously unimaginable. The effects rippled through society. Notable was the effect on women's fashions: as more and more women adopted cycling as transport (and even sport-- Here's to you, Annie Londonderry!) the impractical multilayered dresses and restrictive corsets gave way to more practical "cycling clothing" and forever changed the way women dressed.

So I'm all for women in Saudi Arabia taking control of their own lives and "driving" their own destiny.

But I wonder if there might not be a way they could just sidestep the male domination altogether and not try to wrest "rights" from men, to not play that game, but instead to take their ball and start a new game on their own-- one in which they set the rules.

Maybe the bicycle could be their vehicle.

Good Stuff: Bontrager Inform R saddle

At the end of last MTB season (Which, here, seems to end in May) I noticed that my trusty, relatively comfy Avocet O2 saddle was getting a bit threadbare.

Yay. Time to buy more bike stuff!

I love the OBRA email list. It's a great way to connect with other like-minded folks and there's always a ton of used good stuff circulating. This is where I found the next saddle.

I scored a Fizik Pave Sport for a paltry $30. Yay, deal. It was like new and I happily mounted it to the Thomson seatpost. Well, my mountain bike pretty much sat idle the whole winter as I spent all my time on the SS MTB.

So. A couple of weeks ago I take the MTB out for a little fun in the park-- it's the maiden voyage on the Fizik saddle. (Apparently Fizik is supposed to rhyme with "physique", but it should rhyme with "yeowww", or eventually "What the hell? I can't feel my dick!!")

Immediately the thing is beating the tar out of my ass. It really was like sitting on the end of a baseball bat. With a doily on it. The best part was that the plastic scuff guards were digging into my soft butt. So it was like sitting on the end of a baseball bat. With a doily. With nails in it.

Removing the scuff guards helped tremendously but it was still damned uncomfortable. I mean really, the saddle is so narrow that it's almost inside me.

What, are Italians really that skinny? Or do I just have a big butt?

Well, as fortune would have it, I found myself in one of the local bike shops for an unrelated matter. I discovered that they had all their saddle on sale. I had been eyeing the Specialized Body Geometry saddles for a while since I'd had pretty good luck with one on my road bike. They didn't have the width I wanted in stock and steered me to the new Bontrager inForm saddles. The sales-dude had me sit on this weird squishy bench that revealed my assal pressure points. These correlated to various widths of the saddles.

I was shocked to discover that I was right on the cusp of the widest size-- 154mm!

With tears in my eyes, I blurted out "I've got a big butt!" I turned back to the display wall and began grabbing at several very sporty racing saddles: the "Le Gouger", the "Terriblé Race RL", and the "SuperCry Narrow Sport". I vowed that I'd live with a numb penis before admitting that I had a "wide load". Visions of super-wide "health saddles" crowded out svelte racing imagery.

The helpful sales-dude reASSured me that "internal bone structure doesn't translate to exterior size". Yeah, whatever.

But I bought the 154mm wide Bontrager inForm R saddle because it was barely $60 and I needed a saddle for my first big MTB race of the season in just a few days. Plus the saddle had a 90-day return policy. Parker Lewis Can't Lose!

After mounting the saddle and taking it for a quick test ride out in the street I was amazed at how comfortable the saddle was. It was instant. Like putting on an old pair of jeans. It just fit! The only other time I've had a component fit me so quickly and so well was the OnOne Midge handlebar.

The saddle passed with flying colors just a few days later at the race. Not a single problem. No numbness, no hot spots, no chafing. Just incredible.

And the saddle doesn't look like it belongs on a cruiser or anything.

Old wounds...

Click the photo for a nice close view of the awesome boots...

I was just recovering my iPhoto picture library after a recent OS meltdown when I came across this photo from 1991.

Me and a few college friends were taking advantage of the new gondola service on Silver Mountain (up in Kellog, in northern Idaho). Ride the gondola up, ride your bike down the various and sundry cat tracks and access roads and trails and stuff.

It was nice enough, I suppose. Unfortunately I don't remember much of the trip. I think this was actually on our first run down that I shredded my knee. About all I remember from the trip is my accident, trip to the hospital, and waiting around down at the base while my pals got in a few more runs. Bastards. And one of them was riding my bike! Bastards! (I think it was Eric. The chain on his bike broke. So I let him borrow my bike. Or maybe it was Doug?? Bastards!!) (Update: It was Eric. And it was the BB spindle that went kablooey, not the chain. I remember now that he spoke with a rather higher-pitched voice for the remainder of the day...)

"Hey dude, my bike's busted. Since you're not using yours, mind if I ride it?"
(Thanks for the photo, Eric! Cycling "fashion" noted without comment.)

So my front end washed out on a very gravelly, rocky access road. I evidently hit a nice big rock with my knee. I remember doing a tuck-n-roll over one shoulder and coming to a stop sitting up. Then I saw my knee. Yipes! It looked really scary-- I wasn't sure what would happen if I tried standing up. Would my leg bones just pop out through the gaping hole in my knee? So I didn't bother standing up. I remember the rocks poking my butt as I sat there, afraid to even wiggle. (Gosh-- such a wimp! In retrospect I could have coasted the rest of the way down. But I was afraid of all that dirt and dust getting into my... leg hole!) One of our gang, Jayson, rode the rest of the way down to get his truck. Nice guy. (But he became a bastard!!! later with the rest of them as they later continued to ride without me. I didn't even score sympathy from "buff nugs" as I lounged around down at the lodge. I digress...)

So we're all sitting there, my pals very nicely hanging around and keeping me company, pretending that they didn't hate my guts for crashing and raining on their collective parade -- Hey, we all had to pay for the damned gondola ride, we're wasting daylight you clumsy jerk! -- as we wait for Jayson to return with the truck/ambulance/meat wagon.

It seemed like we were there for a loooooog time. We must have been. I remember thinking "Hey, this is an access road, wouldn't it be great if an ATV or motorcycle or jeep or limo full of buff nugs came along and rescued me from all these people who are just pretending to be my friends but I can see it in their eyes-- they want to slit my throat, throw my lifeless body in the bushes, steal my awesome bike and rad rad Axo MTB boots and keep riding. So where is Jason, anyway??"

Unbelieveably, an old coot on 4-wheeled ATV DID show up. I couldn't believe my ears! Saved! Such a nice looking chap with a kindly face and a great big comfy looking rack on the back of his large, capacious ATV. He rolled to a stop and inquired politely about my dreadful looking wound, made some small talk about remoteness of our location and how it would be the perfect sort of spot to slit someone's throat, dump their lifeless body in the bushes and make off with their bike and Axo boots. If one was that sort of person who was so inclined. Then he made some sort of encouraging noises at me, kicked his quad into gear and continued his merry way up the road. Bastard.

The rest of the wait is a blur. I can't really remember anything. After about a year, Jason roared up in his truck. Hurray! I very tenderly dragged myself into the bed of the truck and one of my "friends" thoughtfully threw my bike in after me. The ride down the mountain was a joy as me and my bike slid and rattled around the bed of the truck. With every little bump and rattle, every single sharp and poky part of my bike stuck me right in my shredded knee. Right in there!

I got into the nearest hospital ER where the doctor shot my knee up with novocaine and then disappeared for 45 minutes.

He came back in time for most of the effect of the novocaine to have worn off and began picking gravel out of my knee. Apparently I was "lucky" that nothing penetrated the connective tissue capsule surrounding the joint. (See? I was right to have freaked out just a little bit.) I refused to watch and settled for listening to the "tink, tink, tink" of bits of gravel dropping in a metal tray.

Then came the cleaning. So far so good as I couldn't yet feel too much.

However, about halfway through the suturing (Was it 11 or 14 sutures?) the novocaine had pretty much completely evaporated. Jiminy christmas did that ever hurt. The weirdest part was feeling the suturing filament sliding through my skin. Maybe by "weirdest" I mean "worst".

At one point the noise of my teeth grinding must have distracted the doctor as he paused in his work and fixed me with an annoyed glare. "Are you okay? Do you need more novocaine?"

Lying through my clenched teeth I told him "No thanks." I didn't have any kind of health insurance (I was a poor, dumb college kid at the time) so I was trying to be good and not rack up a huge bill with all sorts of needless extras.

Finally I was whole again, fitted with a brace to immobilize my knee and shoved out the door with a sampler pack of Advil.

Jayson, Travis, Eric (I don't think I've ever seen a photo with Eric where he's actually wearing a shirt), Doug, Yours Truly, Kenny, Trent (Sometimes shirts, sometimes skins.)
Kellog Hospital, 8-31-1991 Thanks to Eric for the photo.

Back to the mountain we went. While I put my grievous wound on display at the lodge patio, casting about for sympathy, my "friends" continued their rollicking good time up on the mountain. Bastards.

But who's got the awesome scar? Who ultimately scored the hot chick? I did.

But I don't have the Awesome Boots anymore.

Criminally poor kids bikes

Last Saturday I volunteered my time at a nearby middle school bike safety fair.

A bunch of people came together to help kids ride safely. It was great. The organizers had done a great job and the event ran like clockwork. The kids watched a video, got fitted for free helmets, and then could ride through an obstacle course under the watchful eyes of the Beaverton bike police.

Me, a couple of other guys and a couple of mechanics from Hillsboro REI were spinning wrenches for a few hours making sure kids' bikes were safe to ride. One of the REI guys, Erin (Aaron?) called it "bike triage" I think.

I took it a step further on one bike and performed emergency battlefield surgery. More on that later, maybe.

One thing that struck me was the astoundingly low quality of components on childrens' bikes. Truly awful stuff! It seems almost criminal that bicycles intended for children should feature such poor-quality components-- the brakes in particular.

I saw brakes that were so loose that the caliper arms would wobble back and forth an inch or more when applied; brake pads that were badly cupped and slipping under the rim (and into the spokes); disconnected brakes; and tangled, twisted, rusted, frayed cables and housing.

The fragility of bicycles was readily apparent. They aren't bullet-proof or maintenance free, yet none of the bikes I saw couldn't have seen more than a squirt of WD-40 in the past few years. To be clear, I'm not criticizing the children or their parents for just simply using the bikes. It just seems like the bikes that are destined to receive the least maintenance are the ones that actually need more care due to their lower-quality components.

I worked on a few bikes that were downright dangerous to ride on. One in particular: the right-side pedal had worked itself loose and destroyed half of the threads. The thing was only held in place by one or two threads and a lot of rust. I don't know what it would have taken to break that tenuous bond. Maybe coming down off of a curb? Hopping on the bike? Maybe just some random pedal stroke?

I kept wondering to myself if the collective genius of the bicycle industry couldn't come up with a few simple components that would be durable, reliable, and very low maintenance. I suppose the real problem would be cost-- anything that would meet those criteria would likely add significantly to the cost of the bike. Plus it seems that most childrens' bikes are "disposable" because by the time they DO fail or become unridable the child has already out-grown it and is ready fo the next size up. I guess this is what Wal-Mart is for.

But this brings me back to something that I feel pretty strongly about:
That a bike that is safe and reliable and that functions properly is more fun to ride and thus the child will be more likely to KEEP riding. When a bike doesn't function properly and, as a result, is difficult to ride, I could see the child becoming disenchanted and opting to have mom or dad ferry them around in the car. At the very lease they lose an avenue for healthy exploration and transportation. (I remember my first bike as a child-- what a sense of freedom! It was like I had been given wings.)

Anyway... I overheard that about 400 kids when through in just a few hours. We breathed new life in to lots and lots of bikes that needed a little TLC and I hope that we helped to keep the kids enjoying their bikes and the freedom of riding. I also hope that we gave them a favorable impression of "bike people".

Ride on, kids.