True Classics: a Race, a Champion and a Bicycle

   I want to start off with one of my picks for pro cycling photo of the year (so far), taken at Sunday’s Liège-Bastogne-Liège, one of the sport’s Monuments. The shot captures it all: fantastic diagonal composition of the famous Cote de Saint Roch climb, the cyclists struggling up the steep ascent and fans stacked four or five deep (and hanging out windows!) to catch a glimpse of their heroes.

   I was excited to see my current favorite, Alejandro Valverde, sort out some of his recent strategy problems and complete a fantastic week of racing in the Ardennes Classics. He finished a close second to current World Champion Michal Kwiatkowski at the Amstel Gold race a week ago, before winning both mid-week at La Fleche Wallonne and then in Liège. It is the third career victory for the Spaniard at La Doyenne ("the oldest").

   The second-biggest story of the week had to be the incredible performance of 22-year-old Julian Alaphilippe (the frustrated rider to Valverde’s left). The Frenchman finished an impressive 7^th place at Amstel, but who could have predicted the runner-up places at each of the other two events this week? His countrymen have been starving for a champion, but as a current member of an Etixx-Quick Step team LOADED with relatively young talent, he may have to look elsewhere in order to take a leadership position – or maybe he has shown enough this week to make his team directors shuffle their plans a bit!

   Most of the work on the Colnago Sprint involved cleaning the bike, which required a lot of shop rags and a bottle of degreaser (I use Simple Green). The chainrings, freewheel cogs and chain would eventually need added attention. I first removed the wheels in order to give the dingy sidewalls of the Veloflex tires a good scrubbing – these classic, high-quality tires now look the part!

   I was surprised to find, after removing a good coating of greasy mess, that the seven-speed freewheel was Dura-Ace. Normally, since I hate mixing Italian and Japanese components, I would have immediately looked to find a Regina or Everest counterpart. However, Dura-Ace is top-quality stuff, and since it functioned perfectly with downtube friction shifters (contrary to the various incompatibility issues that occur with more modern parts made by the two rival companies), I decided this wasn’t something with which I needed to bother.

   The finishing touches for the bike arrived rather quickly in the mail, and I anticipated easily having the bicycle ready to list by the end of the week. Unfortunately I had overlooked the fact that a cheap replacement set of brake pads was installed on the rear calipers. I found a replacement set and quickly placed an order, then went to work on the rest of the bicycle.

   I had replaced the (incorrect) acorn nuts that came on the Dura-Ace brake calipers I used previously on the Bottecchia project and turned to the same source for the part needed on the front Campagnolo brake for the Colnago. I ordered a small handful of these “dressier” cone nuts this time around, in case I would require some in the future.

   I was pleased that the white brake hoods cleaned up nicely and that they wouldn’t appear shabby next to the new bar tape when it was applied. I was unfortunately a bit disappointed the chrome pitting on the backs of the fork blades was too close to the paint for me to make an aggressive effort to polish it up. I didn’t want to risk messing up the sharp line where the chrome and paint meet! However, I was able to mix in some blue to correctly match the hue of green metallic-flake paint I purchase to touch up the Sprint, and the more prominent scratches are now barely noticeable! 

   I see the Colnago Sprint as an excellent option for someone on the lookout for a classic Italian racing bicycle without having to break the bank. This is an affordable model by a world famous builder, with a bonus of better-than-usual Campagnolo components. I only hope that I can luck out and have anywhere near the turnaround time of the Bottecchia sale!

New York Bike Exchange

   I assume that because the weather has finally made its permanent break out of winter’s grip, people are looking to hit the road and interest in my bicycle projects has been sparked. Not only have completed bicycle builds been leaving my shop, but potential customers have been asking about future projects and have even suggested certain brands and sizes on which they might like to see me work.

   While looking through craiglist, I came across a relatively inexpensive vintage Colnago in attractive dark green paint. I contacted the seller, who explained that he was selling the bike because he needed the funds for another bicycle that he wanted to buy. With the help of some additional pictures and details, I determined the components on the bike were mid-upper level Campagnolo Athena (think Shimano Ultegra as a comparison), which made the bicycle more desirable.

   The late 1980s Colnago Sprint could probably be considered more of an entry-level product from the company, but as most aficionados would say, it is still better than most bicycles manufactured at that time. And really, anything Colnago has collectability!

   I decided that because the weather forecast looked favorable I would drive up to NYC to see the bike and take the opportunity to do one of my favorite rides from Ft. Lee, New Jersey, across the George Washington Bridge, down the Hudson River Greenway to Battery Park and back. I packed up my Colnago C-97 (staying with the trip’s overall theme) in the back of our car, along with some snacks and a change of clothes for the trip into the city to meet Edgar.

   The temperature was pleasantly cool, and I was moving well along Riverside Drive. I chose to take this route into Manhattan because, not only is the Greenway in poorer condition north of Riverside Park, but the street is nearly empty inbound during the late morning/early afternoon weekdays. At 108th Street I cut across to do my traditional three laps around Central Park. I am always surprised by how hilly the loop road is, but other than the ride back up to the bridge, the rest of the route is pretty much pan flat.

   Making it back out to the Greenway, it seemed to me that the dedicated bike lane was dirtier than usual, but I attributed it mostly to an accumulation of all of the winter’s snow removal chemicals that just hadn’t had the time to wash away. A few weeks of occasional spring rainstorms would clear that up!
   Nothing beats having a dedicated bike path with its own traffic signals, and although most pedestrians stick to the actual sidewalk, you do have to pay attention for the occasional space cadet that wanders into your path, totally unaware of anyone else's presence. Yes, there are a lot of things to catch the tourist's eye, so you have to be a bit understanding.
   Feeling pretty strong, despite the usual early season form (or lack thereof), I made my way down to Battery Park to catch a glimpse of the Staten Island ferries and Lady Liberty way off in the distance across the water. It always amazes me how congested it can get down there, no matter the time of year, but I am used to the weaving through the crowd and cars. 

   During last summer’s trip with Sue and Colin, we had made the mistake of getting off of the Greenway too soon on the return leg. Our intent was to avoid the incredibly steep pathways at the base of the bridge and try a more gradual approach on Riverside Drive. We found the outbound traffic was heavy and the roadway was dangerously tight for cycling safely, so remembering the experience, I tried a different route.

   I used a cycling-friendly access point that weaved up from a playground at 158^th Street to Riverside. There were a couple of stiff climbs which I found a bit difficult with nearly 40 miles of hard riding already in my legs. I didn’t remember that part of the route being so bad last summer, but I suppose it had something to do with the more relaxed pace at which I had done the ride with my family.

   When I returned to the car, I found that I was about a half hour ahead of schedule, so I had plenty of time to clean up, change clothes and eat something. I was grateful for some extra time to reach Edgar’s high-rise apartment on 59th and scope out a good place to "park". I put the word in quotes because I was warned about the difficulties of finding a space, and that I would probably just find a temporary spot in front of his building to pull over and put on the hazard lights!

   A few minutes after I stopped, there was a light rap on the passenger side window, along with a friendly face mouthing, “Glen?” Edgar was just returning from work and had seen the Cannondale stickers on the car, plus my bike in the back and had made the rather obvious assumption. I rolled down the window, and he told me it would just take a minute or two to bring the bike down.

   Because the paint scheme itself was unique to any examples I could find online, and because I’d been fooled before by listings with nice pictures, I was a little worried about how the actual paintjob would appear “in person”. I was happy to find that if the Sprint was repainted, it was done extremely well, with none of the pooling of paint in the engraved areas or around the edges of the lugs, like I’ve seen on some poorly-done frames. However, there were plenty of bicycles custom painted by the company, and it certainly could have been the case with this bicycle.

   Although this particular bicycle had the word “Sprint” engraved on the top of the bottom bracket, the frame didn’t have some of the signature details of other Colnago frames, such as the company’s trademark ace-of-clubs cutout on the underside of the bottom bracket or the Colnago name engraved on the top of the seat stays or the sides of the chainstays. The fork fortunately had the “C – club” logo on the crown and there was also a club engraved on the top of the downtube to completely alleviate any worries that I might not be receiving “the real thing”.

   Edgar and I chatted for a bit about some bicycles he owned and what he was currently considering for purchase, before I slid the Sprint into the back of the car with its Colnago partner. I was unfortunately on the back end of rush hour and had some traffic to deal with on the way home.

   When I had a chance to look things over in my shop, I was pleased overall with the condition of the bike. It has some nice touches, like a sparkling Cinelli stem and handlebars, plus the Campagnolo aero seat post with the classic shield logo. There are some paint areas that I’d like to touch up and some of the chrome is a bit rusty, but the bicycle should clean up nicely. Well-ridden bicycles are going to show some signs of age, no matter how well you look after them!

   I have ordered some new white Cinelli bar tape to go with the Selle Italia Flite saddle already on the bike. I also noticed the front brake was missing the cone-shaped nut and had an acorn-shaped version in its place. This Campagnolo part is extremely hard to find and probably very costly if you happen to come across one, so I’ll try to find something reasonable as a stand-in.

   This bicycle should take very little time to turn around, so I expect to have a set of pics of the finished bike next time! 

Yes, I know it's a small detail

   BAR TAPE…yes, bar tape. You would think that after building up a classy looking bicycle, such a little thing wouldn’t make much of a difference, but are you familiar with “splash” bar tape? If you have it, you need to go out right now and remove it. Nothing spoils a decent bicycle more than that shabby crap - I’ve seen color combinations that actually look like vomit! The guy who invented this tape (shown below) should be dragged out into the street and beaten senseless.

   Selle Italia’s SmooTape (a dumb attempt at a clever name, if you ask me) appears to be a good idea gone tragically bad. The product shape has a beveled cross section, with the intent that when you overlap the tape during the wrapping process, you don’t have that bulge that usually occurs from the layering. Now, that condition has been around long enough that I don’t even think about it, and I considered that the "bulging" might actually provide better grip. Anyhow, I was willing to give the product a try (see the box cover’s interesting graphics below).

   Despite what the Selle Italia staff's professional bar wrapper was able to achieve for the box photo, the problem appeared immediately when I went to start wrapping the bar. The “directions” seem to be the traditional method of starting at the end on the underside of the bar and going over the top away from the bicycle. The process is supposed to continue all the way up the bars in the same direction, so that the (over the top) grip of the rider has the natural tendency to tighten the tape. Usually, the first loop of tape should come around to hold the first “row” of tape in place, and then you start to angle outward and overlap from that point on, maybe about 1/3 of the tape width.

   Now if this SmooTape is supposed to lie flat, haven’t I just ruined this whole idea by starting in the traditional manner? The odd tapered shape of the product has added to the problem by creating an unusually big knob at the end of the bar!

   I thought if I angled the tape as I started the wrap and left the excess to trim off afterward, I might have better luck. And anyone out there who has gotten into the habit of tucking tape into the open bar end with the plug just needs to stop – I’ve NEVER see someone do an attractive job with that technique! With anything but the thinnest bar tape material, this method also makes putting in the plug impossible.

   As I continued with the wrapping, I discovered that the adhesive was a bit too strong – any time I attempted to adjust the spacing as I moved towards the tricky brake levers, the adhesive would start to tear the tape that it was overlapping underneath. I struggled along carefully and did a fairly decent job of it, but my efforts to trim near the ends did not look very good. Cutting a straight, squared-off edge on a cylindrical object is not a skill the average human masters on the first try!

   I was not happy with the overall look either, as the tape was just too puffy, kinda like I had pushed marshmallows onto the bar. It also reminded me of that cheap, puffy sponge bar wrap (photo below) that used to appear on late-1980s/early-‘90s ten-speed bikes. If you didn’t have a bike with it, I know that you had a friend who did!

   My frustration had grown to a point that I didn’t even bother to take a picture of it before ripping it off. If anyone needs a spare roll for one side, let me know, and you can have it for free! I’m calling it a $10 product experiment and letting the experience just roll off my back, like it never happened. I purchased some of the company’s regular flat gel tape, which looks and performs perfectly fine! 

   Below is a collection of photos of the completed Bottecchia ZG-Mobili Team bicycle, which I recently listed for sale. The bike is equipped with components from suppliers for the team at that time, according to the logo decals on the bicycle chainstays: Shimano Dura-Ace component group, including derailleurs, shift/brake levers, brakes and crankset; ITM stem, bars and seatpost; Miche headset; Selle Italia saddle, and (of course) bar tape. The wheels are Mavic SUP rims with Dura-Ace hubs and Michelin tires.

   Believe it or not, I listed this bike on Saturday evening, and Monday morning a very nice gentleman from the Trenton area dropped by and took ‘er away. I wish I had such a turnaround on every bicycle I’ve built – I barely had time to put it on my blog’s “FOR SALE” page! 

   In an attempt to smooth over any bad feelings that I may have caused with my stance on splash bar tape (you still need to get rid of it!), I will admit that there has been ONE attractive application of this product. I’m proud to say that I came up with a proper use of the splash tape to compliment the marble-like paint job on my brother Mark’s 1991 Diamondback Centurion Expert TG:

Dastardly and Muttley?

   My blog is a bit late this week because I had been taking care of some work in my shop. The first job was replacing an old, collapsing shelf unit with a higher-quality piece of furniture. My wife was remodeling one of our second floor rooms to claim as her own work space and donated a large desk/shelf combo that she didn’t want. I now have plenty of room for all my parts and tools, plus even more table-top workspace!

   The other work involved a small problem with the Bottecchia - I only say “small” because I received a refund to cover most of the costs, but it required removal and replacement of the Miche headset lower cup, which had a small crack. I also discovered a crack in the seatpost, but that part isn’t quite as essential to completing the rest of the bicycle’s assembly. Without the headset and fork, I had no stem or handlebars, which meant I couldn’t install the brake and shifting systems.

  One of the reasons I like to “watch” cycling is that I can often have it on in the background while doing something else. After hundreds of events over the years, I don’t need or want to watch every second of what is going on (or most moments when nothing is going on) during all the major races during the season. The Eurosport announcers will often comment on something that is happening, and I can glance up in time to see what they are pointing out, or catch a replay if it was an important enough moment.

   However there are some races like Paris-Roubaix, or the occasional mountain stage during one of the Grand Tours, where the action is absolutely riveting. The racers are very familiar with the terrain and know where the strategically important sections on the course are located. Teams jostle for position, the action is tense with a high pace, and there is an anticipation of the instant when attacks and counter-attacks start.

   Then there are those races that unfold with all kinds of incidents which keep your eyes glued to the screen, and Sunday’s Tour of Flanders was such an event. As one of cycling’s Monuments, the race’s high status always ensures aggressive riding by the teams contesting the challenging course. Sunday’s race was even more incredible because of all the crazy mishaps that popped up - it started to remind me of the old Wacky Races cartoon!

   You can see every incident here as it unfolds in Cosmo Catalano’s excellent video summary, but this is what happened: 

1. MTN-Qhubeka’s Youcef Reguigui went down hard on a very narrow road, which forced dozens of riders to hop off of their bikes and run cyclocross-style across the grass to get around the pileup.
2. A Shimano neutral support car attempted a dangerous move by coming through the inside of a curve past the early four-man breakaway group. The driver ended up bouncing off the curb and hit the lead rider, Trek’s Jesse Sergent. I gasped when I saw the replay, as I thought he might get caught under the car, but as it was, Sergent fell hard on his shoulder, breaking his collarbone.
3. Shimano’s other vehicle rear-ended the FDJ car as its crew was pulling over to assist team member Sebastian Chavanel, who had a mechanical problem. The FDJ car was forced into Chavanel, who spiraled onto the air, lucky to escape with just some bad bruising!
4. One of the inflatable advertising archways that line the course sprang a leak and forced several cyclists trailing at the back of the peloton to swerve and/or duck in order to continue down the road. 

Oh, and then the racing really started! Team Katusha has been having a marvelous season, largely based on the success of strongman Alexander Kristoff, who has won nine World Tour events this year. The Norwegian star pulled away with Etixx-Quickstep’s Nikki Terpstra after the last ascent up the Kruisberg, 16 miles from the finish. Last year’s Paris-Roubaix winner knew he couldn’t match the powerful sprint of Kristoff and unsuccessfully attempted to shake him on the nasty climbs remaining over Oude Kwaremont and the Paterberg. Terpstra even left his breakaway mate to do most of the work during the last few kilometers, but the sprint was still an easy victory for Kristoff.

Everyone Knows It's Windy

(That’s the chorus of a 1967 song by The Association, if you are a youngster.)

  Spring in eastern Pennsylvania means temperatures are (usually) warming up and the winds will blow. Sure there are breezes much of the year, but it seems particularly gusty in March and April, which is especially noticeable when you are struggling through it in an effort to get the cycling legs back in condition!

    I was out riding on the Schuylkill Trail yesterday, doing about a thirty mile round trip from the Oaks area to the Philadelphia city line. The eastward leg of the trip was fantastic - at some moments I was cruising along, effortlessly holding at around 25 mph!  In the back of my mind, I knew I was going to have to turn around and dreaded what was waiting for me.

   When the moment came to head back, I was deceived a bit at first by a lack of wind. There are those VERY rare instances when wind changes direction to my advantage, but since the location of my U-turn was within a rock cut, I realized it must be a case of temporary shelter. About a half mile later, as the trail followed a bend in the river and the trail headed nearly due west, I was hit with a wall of wind that lasted nearly the whole trip back.

   Except for a couple sections where the trail direction changed slightly or I was partially screened by a tree line or building, it felt like I was doing a 15-mile hill climb. When I finished back at the trailhead and looked at my computer for an average speed, I knew that the relatively decent stats were more of a reflection of the incredible outbound speed, because as well as I held it together into the wind, there were some gusts that brought me to an absolute crawl!

   I had a whole new level of admiration for professional cyclists after watching them fight through even worse conditions during Sunday’s Ghent-Wevelgem race.  Facing a rainy day on the slippery, steep cobbled climbs throughout the 148-mile course is challenging enough, but riding into winds that gusted up to 50 mph off of the North Sea proved nearly impossible.

   Commentators refer to cyclists who excel in the Belgian Classics as “hard men”, and anyone finishing in this wretched weather had to be considered such. Indeed, only 39 of the original 199 starters crossed the finish line! Splits in the peloton kept occurring over and over again during the event, with little chance to get back together once groups fell behind.

   Racers who dropped far enough out of contention just decided to give up. Riders piled into team cars if there was space, while others asked locals for directions back to their hotel. Those attempting to battle through the conditions found absolutely no shelter out in the open farmlands of Belgium, and riders were actually being blown off of their bikes. Simple tasks like taking a feedbag (called a musette) or removing a rain jacket became dangerous - dozens of collisions occurred, accompanied with many broken bones from hitting the pavement.

   There were some “softer” landings, such as the two riders who were forced off of the road into an adjacent drainage ditch. Take a look at the photo below showing them climbing out, while their bikes sink, and the despair on the face of the red-helmeted Lotto-Soudal cyclist.

   Another incident involved the late breakaway, when Sky’s Gerraint Thomas was blown into a field. He attempted to unclip his foot for balance but lost control of his bike, somersaulted through the air and landed in the mushy grass. Thomas, winner of Friday’s E3 Harelbeke race, proved himself an ultimate “hard man” by getting on his bike, fighting back to the group and claiming the final spot on the podium!

   Perhaps the winner of the race, Luca Paolini, has the perfect stature for these extreme conditions – a diminutive, but powerful build. I’m thinking less body surface to catch the wind, yet the strength to fight through the air that is trying to push him around. The Italian at times looked to be cooked, but in these conditions, so did his other six breakaway mates. Paolini just managed to jump away at the right time, when the more favored riders were looking at each other, and once there was a little gap, there wasn’t enough left in anyone’s legs to catch him!

   As Paolini crossed the line, he pointed to his jersey to acknowledge his Katusha team, and also to his head, perhaps making the point that overcoming the day’s miserable weather was all about the mind.