Same Old Sky Story

   My intended topic this week is my cycling trip to the shore, but I first wanted to give my take on what we’ve seen so far during the Tour de France. I've been consoling myself with the excitement of sprint finishes and occasional victories from breakaways, as nothing of interest has happened as far as the overall standings are concerned. If the Tour officials had any guts and let the wacky results stand from stage 12’s “Keystone Cops” finish, things may have been a bit different, but I’ll get back to that.

The dark side - dressed in black, wearing helmets, while breathing deeply, ominously

   If history has told us anything, it’s that the British like an empire, and it is no different in sports. Not counting this season’s miracle win by a seemingly overmatched Leicester City squad, the English Premier League presents a great example: Brits love teams that are dominant year after year, no matter what kind of predictably repetitive finish it may have among only a handful of the league’s 20 teams. In fact, in the 24 seasons since the League's inception in 1992, only TWO titles haven't been won by the "big four": Manchester United (13 themselves!), Arsenal, Chelsea, and recently Manchester City. Those organizations have all the money and all the players.

   American sports aren’t completely immune to this problem, as many people will point to baseball and the New York Yankees, but it is obvious that the health of a sport and the growth of a game benefits by the chance that any team could win a championship. The NFL and NHL have shown that revenue sharing provides the opportunity for any organization, regardless of market size or owner’s wallet size, to attract talented players and keep the standings from featuring the same teams at the top every season.

   Cycling is unique in that the success of its teams is directly influenced by the sponsorship that can be attracted by a general manager. The value of having a wealthy and stable backer to rely on year after year cannot be understated when trying to attract top athletes and supply the best bicycles and components with which to compete.

   Team Sky is funded by an extremely successful telecommunications company in the U.K. and has very deep pockets. Their team can not only afford the deepest roster of talent in pro cycling, it also has many of the world’s brightest directors and coaches in their organization, and stocks up on some of the most advanced equipment available. Pinarello bicycles had an extremely successful partnership with the Banesto/Caisse d’Epargne/Movistar organization, which yielded six Tour victories during their 33-year tenure together, but the company knew where the money was and decided in 2014 to go exclusively with Team Sky.

   As a fan of an attacking style of bicycle racing, it is extremely frustrating to watch six or seven elite climbers from the same team on the front, keeping the pace high to discourage breakaways, while wearing the other teams down to one or two wannabees who will never be able to hold on when Sky eventually launches their leader towards the finish line. You may wonder how much help teammates can provide on a mountain climb – well, besides a bit of psychological advantage of having friends around, there is the benefit of an available bike/wheel if some mechanical issue pops up, and since they are riding between 15-20 mph on some of these climbs, there is plenty of drafting/saving energy done at that speed!

   Sky has not only been dominant in stage racing, they seemed to have figured out the one-day classics as well and this year claimed their first “monument” victory with Wouter Pouls’ win at Liege-Bastogne-Liege. Considering the method of funding pro cycling teams that is currently in place, I’m not sure exactly how to solve this problem of Team Sky dominance, but it is not healthy for the sport in the long run. I’m sure the Brits are fine with it, but I don’t think the rest of the world will be too enthusiastic much longer!

   I think the race officials missed an opportunity to keep things interesting when they negated the results of the wild stage 12 finish. Race leader Chris Froome (Sky – ugh) with breakaway mates Richie Porte (BMC) and Bauke Mollema (Trek-Segafredo) ran into the back of a camera motorcycle when it was forced to a stop by overenthusiastic fans crowding into the road to get a better look at the action. Froome’s bike was damaged, and because the team car was farther down the narrow road behind the chasing peloton, he panicked a bit, threw his bike aside and started running up the mountain.

   Now Froome is kinda tall, thin and geeky already, but running in cycling cleats with bright yellow kit and helmet certainly didn’t help to create a look of athletic majesty! Mollema and Porte had gathered themselves pretty well and were on their way, and eventually many of Froome’s big rivals began to pass him. Mavic neutral support gave the Sky leader a bike, but these are older bikes intended only as a desperate measure (which I guess this was) and often aren’t top-quality. The Mavic bikes are definitely not adjusted to the correct size for every rider, and Froome looked almost like he was on a kid’s bike. As a somewhat neutral viewer (rooting against the “Evil Empire”), it was comical to see the race leader pedaling with his legs bent awkwardly and his feet slipping as the bike didn’t have pedals to match his shoes/cleats.

   In any other race - and I am inclined to believe with any other cyclist and team - the circumstance would have just been considered a crash within the competition, and the time differences would have stood. I found it extremely disappointing that the race officials came to Froome’s rescue and awarded him the same time as Mollema, who otherwise would have gained nearly two minutes on the Brit and vaulted up the overall standings.

   Sue has heard me root against Alberto Contador and knows I don’t like him, although I love his style of racing/tactics. Hearing me vent frustration with the current Tour situation, Sue asked my opinion on Chris Froome. I told her that he seems like a nice guy and puts up with a lot of crap from fans and the media with great poise. I have grown to detest the incredibly biased British Eurosport coverage and CycleSport Magazine (a U.K. publication I read) slobbering over Team Sky and Chris Froome. Mostly though, it's the Sky Strategy and its scientific method of racing that I hate – perhaps if Froome stopped looking down constantly at the computer for his current wattage, he wouldn’t have smacked into the motorbike!

   I was wishing I had a motorbike to grab onto when I was into the last twenty miles of my ride to the shore last Friday. Sue had a triathlon in Stone Harbor on Sunday, so on the way down to the shore, she dropped me off in downtown Philadelphia, close to the Ben Franklin Bridge. It was a bit humid, but the overcast skies had kept the temperatures down to a comfortable level, and riding was quite enjoyable as I cruised high over the Delaware River.

   Based on past experiences and the temperatures forecast in the afternoon, I decided to knock back my pace a MPH or so and save something for later in the ride. There is very little shade early on the route along Haddon Avenue and White Horse Pike through Parkside and Woodlynne, New Jersey, but the skies were still cooperating with clouds at this point.

   The air was drying out, as I could see salt lines from evaporated sweat forming on the backs of my gloves, unfortunately the sun was now brightly beating down on me. Near Audubon I made my way over to Atlantic Avenue, where I followed the tracks of the former Pennsylvania – Reading Seashore Line for many miles.

   I considered taking a dip at Clementon Park’s Splash World, but made a right turn to head up Pine Hill, which isn’t anywhere near as challenging as some of the climbs around home, but in this otherwise pan-flat terrain it seemed like a mountain. I looked forward to the lefthand turn off of New Brooklyn Road, as I headed to the shelter of the tree-lined Blue Anchor Road.

   I had to remember to eat, although I wasn’t particularly hungry, since I didn’t want to “pop” later in the ride. My legs felt pretty good, and I didn’t have any signs yet of shoulder or neck fatigue. As I headed down Route 73, I became aware of my dwindling water supply and looked forward to filling up with some cool liquid at a convenience mart at the intersection with Black Horse Pike (U.S. 322).

   Remembering not to go overboard with the cool liquid, I headed off on maybe my favorite section of the ride. With the wind at my back I enjoyed the wide shoulder, which is free of debris and flat-to-slightly-downhill for five miles before my next turn. I was now at the halfway point as I head east on Weymouth Road towards Mays Landing, and I unrolled the aluminum foil on half of a peanut butter/strawberry jam sandwich that went down remarkably well. The cool refill stop certainly helped!

   Although the road condition is fantastic, since it was repaved just last summer, the next twenty miles down Route 50 felt like a grind. The heat was really burdensome at this point, and I welcomed every tree overhanging the highway, just for a small break from the sun. My legs still felt good, but I really struggled to put the last bit of food into my body. I was also sitting up and stretching more regularly as soreness became an issue.

   There is a threshold around 65 miles into a long ride that I really begin to feel fatigued. I suppose it makes sense that, because this “metric century” distance is a familiar limit for me, my body starts to rebel, but this experience was a bit different. I was reminded of a time during a 100-mile ride that Sue suspected she had downed too much water without eating and diluted her system, with not enough sodium balance in the blood.

   I was feeling a need to keep cool and simply resorted to pouring a little into the helmet openings onto my head or onto the back of my neck. I certainly did not want to feel the mushiness that was in my back wheel and pretty much wiped myself out changing the tube and pumping the tire. When I stood up after picking up all of my repair tools, I felt quite nauseous. After a few long, slow breaths to gather myself, I did briefly enjoy the chill (well, close enough to one) of the air moving over my sweat-soaked arms and legs.

   I had pre-planned a stop to treat myself to an Icee (Slurpy-esque drink) at a Wawa in Ocean View, but it became a necessity as my water supply had dwindled, and I was feeling pretty foul – the yellow and red sign appeared like an oasis! The pineapple citrus Fanta-flavored frosty goodness could not have come a moment too soon – except that it did come too soon, and the resulting brainfreeze had me doubled-over, thinking that the floor would soon be covered with expelled Icee.

   Again, long, slow breaths to gain my composure, and then I set off to tackle the remaining miles at a very casual pace with domed Wawa cup in hand. The relief of the cold drink disappeared almost as fast as the Icee itself, and I found that the water I had replenished didn’t taste good at all. It wasn’t the quality of the water, just my body telling me that it didn’t want any more inside. I again turned to small amounts on my head and neck in order to control my temperature.

   I suppose it didn’t help that the wind was at my back, and I was receiving very little relief from the breezes. Those last 10 miles were pretty brutal, and I even felt a cramp (VERY rare for me) in my right calf muscle as I crossed the bridge into Stone Harbor, but it loosened up quickly when I stood on the pedals and stretched it out.

   Twenty-four blocks later (mentally counting each one), I told Sue to remind me that I don’t really need to ever do that ride again. There is a certain amount of cycling that is enjoyable and a point where you wonder why you ever sat on the saddle in the first place. My brother-in-law gave me a (requested) dousing with a garden hose, I downed a cold can of Coke from the garage fridge and then collapsed into a beach chair that was still sitting in the driveway.

   I will be taking a week off from writing as Sue and I are again headed up to the cottage on Cayuga in the Finger Lakes. If you have some time, stop by Royersford's National Night Out block party on August 2nd. My home shop is in the heart of the festivities, and I will be having an open house of sorts, with plenty of bikes on display (for sale and otherwise) and other goodies. 

Rantin' and Ravin'

   I was considering holding off on writing this week since I am in a bit of a foul mood due to bicycle transactions that have gone wrong and a few build issues that have popped up, but where better to express my frustrations?

   I had seven finished bicycles in my shop at one point this fall, and all but two were out of my possession by the early spring. However, I have added a couple completed bikes to my inventory, and I have been surprised and very disappointed by how few sales have happened since. I figured when the weather turned nice, more folks would be looking for bikes, but that just hasn’t been the case. It’s not like I’ve been pricing them differently, as I rarely charge much more than what the actual build costs in parts, with maybe a little extra for the time I put into them.

   There have been several instances when I’ve gotten my hopes up with people who have expressed interest or even made offers and then, really, just disappeared without a word. I had one person stop by, spend over an hour looking at my bikes, finished projects and current builds in progress, as well as talking about pro cycling past and present. He talked about making a deposit for the Pinarello Prince and paying in a couple installments if I’d hold it for him. Well, I have no money and the Prince is still hanging down there a month later.

   When dealing with potential buyers, I try to practice a basic form of courtesy, although it is generally a “first come, first serve” arrangement when using craigslist or other online classified ads. If someone has contacted me with plans to stop by, I think it would be rude to have the next person who calls show up beforehand and sell the bike out from under the original potential buyer.

   I used italics when I repeated that word because this strategy has done nothing but backfire on me, as people have not treated me with the same courtesy and have most often just not shown up, without any call or explanation. Of course, when I go back to the second or third caller, they have by that time bought something else or now have their eyes on an alternative purchase.

   I try not to become bitter with what I really perceive is a “nice guys finish last” world, but I am convinced that, at least when dealing with somewhat fickle bicycle buyers, my best bet is to make the bicycles available to the first person who will put cash in my hand and wheel one out the door!

   Down in the shop I have been VERY busy with repair work, as I have become acquainted with a circle of people, some of which have already been repeat customers and have also been so kind as to recommend me to friends of theirs. And some of them have likewise already returned for repairs on other bikes! I continue to collect parts for my waiting Ciocc ’80 Mokba and Pinarello Veneto projects, but the repairs are always the priority, so progress has been slow on those two bicycles.

   The replacement parts for the Centaur righthand shifter came in the mail, so I resumed work on the Ridley Boreas. I found the lefthand lever was a bit sticky between downshifts, so I flooded it with degreaser and re-lubed the innards, which has improved its operation significantly. The bike is finished and is now listed in my "For Sale" page.

   I wasn’t exactly delighted to find compatibility issues aren’t just Campagnolo related, as I recently acquired a 2012 Cannondale SuperSix 5 bicycle that was equipped with mostly Shimano Ultegra components. I was interested in swapping out the standard 53/39t crankset to a compact version, and double-checked what type of bottom bracket interface the bicycle required so that I could purchase the appropriate part.

   In an effort to have the bottom bracket and crankset provide as much stiffness as possible so that no power from the pedal stroke is lost in flex, companies have been experimenting with crank spindles and bearings with a larger diameter. In this case, Cannondale developed what is called a BB30 system, a bottom bracket for 30 millimeter spindles, as opposed to the common 25 millimeter spindles of modern Shimano screw-in bottom brackets (left photo below).

   BB30 bottom brackets do not have threads and are sometimes called PF30, as they are press fit (right photo above). I then wondered why, even though the Cannondale had a BB30 logo printed clearly on the bottom of the frame, there was a threaded bottom bracket installed. After doing some research and finding a ton of different adaptors listed on eBay, I found that many people prefer to use the traditional Shimano assembly because the BB30 bearings have proven to wear out quickly. Several companies have manufactured a metal sleeve that fits inside the BB30 opening, which has threads for the traditional 25mm system.

In this closeup of the SuperSix bottom bracket with the cranskset removed, you can see the threaded adapter insert (red arrow) installed within the original BB30 sleeve (blue arrow).

   Looking into the situation a bit deeper, I found that this SuperSix 5 had an alloy BB30 insert listed in its original specs! You may wonder why Cannondale would construct frames with its own wider bottom bracket, and then completely undo the work by factory installing the narrower insert, but of course, word travels fast in the cycling market and the company needs to sell bikes. Shimano has proven to be a reliable and preferred brand, and until you get all the kinks out of your own system, you’d better go with something that works and, most importantly, what the customers want.

   I have decided not to mess with trying to have the insert removed, as I have seen how “sketchy” that prospect is, even for experienced mechanics. I didn’t particularly like the mismatched silver crankset anyway, so I will try to find a good deal on black Ultegra cranks, or maybe even save a few bucks on a Shimano 105 version, if necessary.

   One never knows, behind-the-scenes Cannondale may be working with SRAM or Shimano to perfect the BB30 system and intends to do some sort of re-launch in the near future. However, the way of the cycling world operates, I wouldn’t be completely stunned to see this particular number completely disappear. After all, Cannondale is the company that decided, for no apparent reason, to skip from manufacturing CAAD10 aluminum frames directly to the CAAD12!

   

   Even though the forecast is for a very hot Friday, I am planning to do my annual ride down to the shore. I usually see something interesting along the way (I prefer that nothing too dramatic actually happens, though!), and I’ll fill you in next time around.