GORGEous Italian Beauties

   If you were expecting photos of Monica Bellucci and Caterina Murino, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the title refers to bicycles and the last of the Cycle Tech Sojourns, which took place in the beautiful Pocono Mountains up along the Lehigh River Gorge. The timing couldn’t have been much better, as we were just a few days from the forecasted peak color, and the steep hillsides were bursting with oranges, reds and yellows, mixed in with the occasional (ever)green.
   Sue and I met our crew at the lower end of the state park grounds, right near the steel truss bridge that carries the tracks of the Reading, Blue Mountain and Northern Railroad, as well as a parallel section of the gorge trail, over the Lehigh River into the borough of Jim Thorpe.

   I always forget how chilly it can get riding up here, as there is very little warmth hitting the trail, not only due to the abundance of shade trees, but also because the low angle of the sun at this time of the year combines with the surrounding mountains to allow only brief periods of sunlight to reach the ground. We were well-prepared with our attire and it took just a short time to warm up while pedaling the (very slightly) uphill leg north towards Penn Haven Junction, where another branch of the railroad heads to the west.
   However, it wasn’t too long after I had taken off my outer shell and rolled it up neatly to stuff into my back jersey pocket that I started to get chilly again and thought about putting it back on. The river winds all over the place, and luckily we were in another sunny section of the trail, so I held off from putting the shell back on.

   My friend Ed was along for ride, and we joked that after spending a few hours together last weekend riding the Paulinskill and Sussex Trails, we might be “all talked out”, but we always find some fun subject matter to draw upon. His wife Kelly came along, and since it had been about a year since I had seen her, during the last Turkey Trek, we had a great time catching up.
   We took a break at Rockport, as some of us have back issues and need to stretch out. Mind you, my back situation isn’t perfect, but for the most part it feels better when cycling, so I just have to be patient. Everyone knows how antsy I am just waiting around, and really, no one wanted to cool off too much, so the stops were brief.
   As mentioned, the northern leg is uphill, but the trail is built on the Lehigh Valley Railroad grade, so it is very gradual. The incline is more noticeable as you near Tannery, but not particularly challenging. We were disappointed that the trail was closed the remaining two miles up to White Haven, due to construction near the Interstate 80 bridge over the trail.
   Because of Ed’s rough summer dealing with some health issues, he often mentioned how much more fit Kelly is, particularly because she regularly uses an indoor trainer. She “tore it up” for a few miles on the return leg, and I sprinted up to catch her. We slowed considerably after a few miles, but had to look back a few times to make sure we weren’t completely losing our companions.

   On the way back we encountered a passing RBMN tourist train, which was packed with railroad enthusiasts, as well as folks wanting a convenient way to experience the autumn colors. Sue and I reminisced about the last time we were up here riding (oh my god, TEN summers ago!), when the temperatures were nearing 100 degrees!
   Despite having the company of loved/missed family members during that ride, there was no doubt the scenery and weather this time around was preferred by us both!

   I was extremely excited to have my Pinarello Prince frame returned to me, beautifully repaired and ready to reassemble. A small crack in the head tube had appeared, not because of any type of impact, but nevertheless, I did not want to ride the bike and make the damage worse. Because the crack was perfectly straight, I was hoping it was a flaw in the joint between the two sides of the mold when the frame was manufactured.

   Thankfully, Pat at Cleveland Carbon confirmed what was suspected and did a wonderful job with the repair, in addition to matching the paint. This bike means a lot to me, not only because of the history behind it, but because the 2011 trip to Rome with my late mother inspired its purchase.

   I was able to (almost completely) wrap up assembly/conversion of my Bianchi Camaleonte (C-Sport 3) to a drop-bar gravel bike. I had previously mentioned that my friend Chad had supplied some Shimano 105 levers and rear derailleur, but he also hooked me up with a set of cable-activated hydraulic brake calipers! He explained to me that they have stopping power more like the straight hydraulics, but don’t have the messy setup with fluids. Sounds good to me!
   I had to have a little lesson on replacing disk brake pads from my buddies at Bikesport, but installation was relatively painless when I returned home. It was pointed out to me that, as long as you don’t knock the calipers around when doing so, replacing pads in disk brakes is actually easier, as rim brake pads require much more time to adjust/align to the rim’s braking surface.
   I wanted to remove the rear brake without having to drain the fluid, but it proved impossible, since the parts that connect the line to the levers would not fit through the tiny internal routing port. I had removed the rubber “boot” and threaded compression sleeve from the fluid line. I then popped out the brass “olive” that fits the line into the lever. At this point I realized that clipping off the end and slipping off the parts would be necessary to remove the fluid lines from the frame.

   At this point, with all of the repair/tune-up work I’ve done on modern bikes, I have plenty of experience with aligning rotors and calipers, so installing the new brakes to my Bianchi wasn’t too difficult. I think the metallic blue finish on the calipers looks pretty good with the celeste paint.

   The rest of the parts involved were the Cinelli stem/bars, a Ritchey WCS carbon seatpost, a Shimano Deore crankset with a single chainring that has narrow/wide teeth and a new 11-speed cassette with a bit more climbing range. I have yet to swap in the SPD pedals from my Cross Concept, as I am tuning up that bike a bit and want to test ride before selling. The standard 116-link Shimano chain I bought for the Camaleonte was also not quite long enough, so I’ll have to install the correct length before riding. I couldn’t resist leaving the chain on temporarily for some photos:

   I was also able to finish assembly of the Pinarello Opera Cellini frame that I picked up in June. There weren't really any snags to this project, other than a missing cable guide under the bottom bracket, but that was a simple purchase. I had a Campagnolo Chorus 10-speed group on the shelf and an ITM stem and bar set hanging up in the shop. I found a new set of Miche Reflex R7 wheels online, which nicely completes this modern build.

 

...and to wrap up, I drove out to Lancaster a couple of weeks ago to pick up a nice Tommasini Super Prestige bicycle. I had contacted the seller through eBay and was able to get in a great ride on my regular Amish Country circuit before meeting for the transaction in the afternoon.

   The bike will need a tune-up, and I'm thinking of swapping out the triple chainring components, although it is a very new Campagnolo Veloce group. I'll also grab a new saddle and some tan wall tires. I will probably list it for $950, but if you’d be interested in the bicycle as-is, I'll drop $150 off the price - just let me know.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

   After a rather mild first couple of autumn weeks, some cooler temperatures moved in, and we were met with a crisp morning when setting off from beneath the Paulinskill Viaduct in New Jersey’s Knowlton Township. I had visited this structure, built in 1910 to carry trains of the Delaware, Lackawanna and Western railroad high over the valley, a couple times in the past, but it never fails to amaze me. The seven main arches, which are about 90 feet high over the water below, create crazy echoes, and we laughed about how our voices were amplified as we unloaded our bikes and slipped on our cycling shoes.
   My friend Ed had been dealing with some serious health issues, including a bout of COVID, and admitted to not having put in a whole lot of miles on the bike this summer. The plan was to ride a very relaxed pace, so he would still have something left to tackle the hills near the end of our 48-mile route.
   I was careful to dress warmly, as I didn’t anticipate really working up a sweat. Although this trail is very shaded by tree cover anyway, there was going to be a reduced amount of warmth hitting us because of the surrounding hills and lower sunlight angle at this time of year.
   The lack of sun hitting the trail also meant that it hadn’t dried out completely from the heavy tropical storm rains that hit the region about a week ago. In some of the lower areas, we were weaving from side to side to avoid mushy spots of thick mud, and in some of the rock cuts, where water couldn’t drain laterally away from the trail, it was like riding through a very shallow creek.
   It was incredible, in a matter of days, how much autumn color had popped in the trees, and an increased amount of fallen leaves and branches on the trail added to the adventure. Maybe about ten miles into the ride, I heard an awful metallic snagging sound and then a loud pop. Ed was right behind me when I asked, “What was that?”, and he immediately responded, “Your rear tire!”
   A stick had gone through my wheel and sheared off the tube’s valve stem right at the little circular anchor nut. It took a bit of effort to twist the nut over the mangled end of broken metal, then it was otherwise a fairly simple tube replacement. I was sure to inflate the tire toward the maximum PSI, since I did not want to get a stupid pinch flat, now that I had used my spare tube so early in the ride!
   Ed, who lucked out and didn’t seem to have any issues with debris during the ride, got a kick out of watching me stop a couple more times – once when a vine got tangled around my rear hub and another when a stick got stuck between my pedal and shoe.
   It had been a few years since my last visit to the trail, and I suppose the surface has eroded a bit from use and weather, as there seemed to be more exposed rocks and tree roots than I remember. We did a good job of calling out obstacles when we saw them, helping to keep each other from taking many big wheel hits. I was glad not to be doing this a couple weeks later when the dropped leaves would really be thick, and spotting objects in the trail would be impossible. There were a couple equestrian farms along the trail east of Blairstown, so we were also being careful to avoid the “horse bombs” on the trail. Having that stuck in the knobs of your tires is not pleasant!
   I don’t need to go into the route details too much, as it has been described in-depth in a previous blog entry, but Ed took a few photos that he encouraged me to share:

The New York, Susquehanna & Western RR marker shows it was 79 miles to Jersey City.

   Staying somewhat within the theme of the blog this week. I have always been annoyed by the way people change name pronunciation for no real reason other than laziness. I was watching a YouTube video from BikeIt UK, where the host Andy regularly does restorations of classic vintage racing bikes. He was interviewing Graham Weigh, who has been involved in cycling for forty years, building, collecting and supplying bicycles to the public, as well as pro cycling teams.
   I was shocked to hear Graham, a guy you’d think really knows his stuff, mispronounce Vitus bicycles with a long “eye” sound, instead of the way the French would “vee-tus”. I was then irked by Graham’s explanation that “Pronunciation depends what country you are from.”
   WHAT?!! That is just ridiculous - Vitus is a French name, so you should always be pronouncing it the way they do. I shouldn’t really be surprised, though, as it seems a common British attitude. Commentators on Eurosport stubbornly stick to mispronouncing names, even when colleagues are consistently saying the names correctly during the same broadcast.
   Just think how you’d feel if someone kept butchering your last name over and over, despite being told how to say it. I’m reminded of people immigrating to the U.S. and having their names Anglicized, whether they liked it or not. I feel disappointed when I see what I think is going to be a wonderful sounding last name, only to find it has been mangled and sounds awful. For this reason, sometimes I feel like learning to speak/pronounce Italian is a curse.
   One of the most stupid name pronunciation stories in sports I’ve ever heard comes from hockey. American forward Zach Parise started insisting his name be said as “pah-REE-zee”, despite the fact his father, J.P. Parisé, who starred in the NHL for sixteen years, correctly pronounced their surname “pah-REE-zay”. Zach not only dropped the accent mark but also part of his brain somewhere along the line!

   Finally, I decided it was time for an alteration to my collection of bikes. Having been working consistently all summer on bicycles equipped with them, I’ve come to realize how much more responsive stopping power they supply. Not that the cantilever brakes on my Cross Concept are bad, it just with some of the more challenging terrain I ride, like that on the Tro-Bro Brandywine route, I feel that the disk brakes will provide an extra level of security.
   Mind you, despite the fact I have tried them and appreciate how well they work, I’d prefer not having hydraulic disk brakes. I always say that I don’t want to be an auto mechanic, so dealing with the messy fluids is not my idea of a good time. Cable-actuated disk brakes are the way to go for me!
   I took the plunge and bought a disk-braked Bianchi last week. I was having absolutely no luck finding either the Via Nirone 7 or Impulso "allroad" models, and considering the collection of bikes I already have, I really couldn't justify throwing $3000 at a Zolder Pro cyclocross bike, no matter how much I would have LOVED it!
   I decided to go the route of the easier-on-the-wallet C-Sport - the C stood for camaleonte or "chameleon" in English, but they no longer use the name. It's a flat-bar gravel bike, but I'm going to set it up with drops. The bike comes in C-Sport 1 to 4 models, with the appropriate upgrades along the way as the numbers increase, but again, I was having trouble finding anything in my size – it figures! After a week of emails to anyone in the country who carries Bianchi bicycles, I finally found a 55cm C-Sport 3 in a West Chester, Ohio, shop.
   It has pretty basic stuff, though it is equipped with hydraulic disk brakes, but as explained, I will swap in mechanical disk calipers. My friend Chad told me I was welcome to a set of 105 components he had lying about, so I’ll mix in what I can. Otherwise, I'll do a 1x drivetrain and install a carbon seat post and a nice Cinelli stem/bar set.
   A couple of my riding buddies tease me about the relatively narrow 30mm tires I regularly ride on the trails, but hey, I’m a roadie at heart. They will really be amused to find out the C-Sport comes equipped with 38mm tires! We'll see how I like those or not. What the bike looks like currently:

Of course, I’ll be riding my Cross Concept until all parts come in and changes are made.