Another Visit with Henry Hudson

Who knew, Henry also loves the Giro?

   Last week I was heading out towards the northern beaches of New Jersey to pick up a bicycle (more on that later) and scoped out prospective routes for a ride while I was out there. It turned out the pick-up spot was right on the Henry Hudson Trail, a location I checked out during a 2017 cycling trip.
   I'll admit that I wasn't too excited about the condition of the trail's paving back then, as there were so many roots pushing up the asphalt, it felt like riding over an old washboard! The trail forms a 22-mile crescent - very appropriately, because his ship was named Halve Maen (half moon) - counterclockwise from Atlantic Highlands to Freehold. See the map below for reference.

   Because the day before I had done a ride of 30 miles and nearly 3000 feet of climbing with my friend Mike, I wasn't looking for a huge quantity of pedaling, maybe just a casual out and back along the water. I would just be riding the first two miles of the Bayshore section of the trail and then I planned to check out Sandy Hook, completing about a 24-mile circuit.

   It turns out I received much more of a workout than I expected, due to the winds coming off the ocean and the HILLS! There is a reason the area is called the Atlantic Highlands, which were a real grind on the return leg, and the crossing of the steep bridge over Highlands Reach was a real leg-burner. This span allowed the passing below of sailboats from the marinas that dot the Navesink River and Shrewsbury Bay.

   The Henry Hudson Trail weaved around through the development along Sandy Hook Bay, and unexpectedly became an unpaved path. It probably wouldn't have been too bad if it hadn't rained the day before, and there was some runoff from nearby parking lots and driveways. The mushy-ness led to my decision to return on Memorial Parkway (Route 36) instead.

Once clear of the developments, the trail was quite pleasant.

The complete Henry Hudson Trail (in red)

    After crossing the bridge, I headed south a few miles into the borough of Sea Bright, using the trail that, for its whole length, ran beside a high rock wall. The structure not only protected the beaches from storm erosion, but provided an excellent shield for cyclists pedaling on windy days! When I finally turned around, I moved out away from the wall onto Ocean Drive so that I could take advantage of the wind at my back when pedaling back north!

   Just after the cloverleaf at the bridge, I moved onto the wonderful asphalt trail that wound through the scrubby woodlands up along Sandy Hook. I was having a blast zipping along the nearly perfect (some spots of wind-blown sand, but not treacherous) surface, which even had a couple little rises and falls among the trees.

   I hadn't done a whole lot of research about where I was headed, and I was surprised by the somewhat spooky surroundings of Fort Hancock. I'll leave you to read up on its history, but since the site was decommissioned in 1974, the attractive yellow brick houses along Officer's Row had fallen into disrepair. Some restoration to the buildings has commenced and alternative uses are being investigated. I think I got such a creepy vibe because the area is mostly uninhabited and there are few trees or bushes to improve the landscape.

Sandy Hook Lighthouse

   I was pretty wasted from fighting the wind by the time I reached my second crossing of Highlands Reach, but when I finally crested the bridge, I was treated to a nice view of the Navesink Twin Lights:

   The bike pick-up to which I had referred was a 2002 Cannondale R2000 Si, in the Saeco/Cannondale team colors. I used to have a similar R700, which came with lower quality stock components, but I unloaded that about a decade ago, when I upgraded to my SuperSix 5.

   I got into a conversation with a friend about Mario Cipollini and the Saeco team. I mentioned owning that Cannondale, with which I did a couple century rides, and I remembered receiving compliments about the bike. I then came across the blog entry about buying that bike while searching for some other information. I really missed that bike, did a casual search on Facebook Marketplace and found one in gorgeous condition.

The image from the listing: why do people take photos of the wrong side of the bike?

   The stock R2000 Si came with Ultegra components, a carbon fork manufactured by Time and, strangely, a set of Campagnolo Proton wheels. The owner had upgraded the bike further by installing a 3T cockpit and a Selle Italia saddle. It was at a great price, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it in the long run, but I couldn't pass it up!

   Although I had brought my SuperSix with me, just in case, I had the intention of taking the R2000 on a test ride. I had also brought along a set of Look pedals and some tools so I could install them, and I also wanted to flip the stem around from that unsightly upward position. Unfortunately, after a couple turns to retighten the bolts (there are only two on the faceplate of the 3T "Zepp" stem), there was a pop sound and the bolt spun around freely, obviously now stripped.

   I quickly came up with the idea of swapping in one of the stem bolts from the SuperSix, but they turned out to be the wrong length. I didn't want to get bent out of shape over a little piece of hardware that could easily be replaced by something in my parts bin, so I jumped on my SuperSix for the ride to Sandy Hook.

   There were a few things I wanted to change up, most importantly installing a wider range cassette and a compact crankset to give the bike better "climbability". I opted for the interesting Sakae/Ringyo CR cranks, which have a web and rings that have a cool spiral shape. I swapped out the seatpost that had a setback of a couple centimeters to a straight Cannondale post. Finally, although the Elite Ciuzzi bottle cages are a classic, I didn't like the yellow and opted for some sleek, modern red Blackburn versions.

   

   

Cafe Racer or Whatever Gets You Out Pedaling

   A YouTube margin link caught my eye the other day, and I watched a video featuring a mechanic ranting about when he was a kid who was duped into thinking his bike sucked and that he needed to buy a new one. He then went into the top reasons why people's bikes actually suck, all done with a bit of humor, emphasized by his #1 reason - your bike is just fine.

   His point was whatever bike you have that gets you out on the road or trail is the right bike. He also mentioned that little tweaks can be made that improve the performance and longevity of your old bike. I couldn't agree more with both those statements, but there are definitely cases where someone has a bicycle that just isn't the right tool for the job.  

   I sometimes get accused of "bike shaming", but it usually involves someone who is just riding a really poor-quality (or poorly-maintained) machine, or quite simply, the wrong bike for the situation in which they are riding Yes, I love a sweet looking modern machine with high-end components, and I adore a classic steel European racing bike with elegant geometry and Campagnolo parts, but that isn't what everyone needs or should be pedaling.

   Sure, I see plenty of folks who are "out for a bike ride", pedaling along on an old clunker, looking at the scenery, having a conversation with a friend, and that is fine. I'm talking about the folks who are out on their own, Lycra-clad, head down and obviously digging in for some exercise, but on a bulky machine that is slogging along the pavement.

   It also drives me nuts to see a nice lightweight machine loaded down with a saddle bag, big cell phone mounts, etc. I have former customer who perplexes me with the "luggage" he regularly includes on his carbon fiber racing bike, completely outdoing the intent of its design!

   Now why do I see folks riding the asphalt on a 30-year-old mountain bike with aero bars? Would they take a brand new, skinny-tired road bike out on a gravely, single-track, off-road route? Of course not, so why don't they see that they are not riding the correct machine for the terrain on which they are riding?

   First of all, those knobby tires are just heavy and have too much rolling resistance. The least they can do is change out the fat rubber for some "slicks" that will roll easily over the tarmac!

   Secondly, they've realized that the upright riding position is catching a lot of air, so they've (strangely) installed aero bars to get into more of a tuck. Why don't they just ride a bike with narrower, drop bars.

   Of course, I know not everyone feels comfortable on drop bars, but that doesn't mean one has to ride "in the drops". I hardly EVER ride with my hands in the lower curve - I'm mainly on the top, short horizontal section of the bars, or on the brake lever hoods when climbing...and right there's another reason why drop bars are better, more hand positions. Also, modern compact handlebars are designed with a shallower drop than those in the past, which provide less of a crouch when riding in the optimum breaking position.

   If someone isn't comfortable with narrow bars, different widths are available to get a cyclists' arms extended more in line with their shoulders. The key here is to flatten out the back a bit and bring the arms in to create less of an open, flat chest that would catch wind.

   Finally, if you are saying to yourself, "Well, I like to ride on different surfaces, and that's why I have a mountain bike, for the wider tires," I'd follow up with the question, "Are you actually climbing mountains on some gnarly single-track, or just riding on some gravel trails?" Many models of drop-bar bikes have plenty of clearance for tires over 30 centimeters in diameter, which is more than enough width to handle rockier surfaces, and the rolling resistance that comes with tires this diameter when riding on asphalt isn't bad at all, so it's a nice compromise.

   The really great thing about the marketing of the "gravel bikes" is that it allows people to really have one bike that does it all. Not everyone has the money to buy specialized bikes for different terrain or the space to store them, but now you can really just have one machine with a lot of flexibility. Even if you had a real preference for tires in certain situations, perhaps you could manage just having an extra set of wheels with which to easily swap out tire widths!

   I've had several people bring bicycles in for me to repair or upgrade, and I've told them that the cost for the parts and work just aren't worth it, when compared to the performance they'd get from a newer bicycle. I'm not someone who wants to throw more trash in the landfill, but there is a point when a bike is just DONE and no amount of repair work is going to make that thing roll smoothly and shift correctly. Unless the frame has some collectability, there isn't a point in putting all new parts on an old frame.

   This brings me to a beautiful bike I was working on the past couple of weeks. My brother had a friend's bike hanging in his garage, with the intent to ask me about the brand. Turned out the bike was a very nice Gios Torino, that had a flat bar setup. This is what I would call a "Cafe Racer", having a relaxed riding position but definitely with the pedigree to "do some damage" (in a good way) during a group ride.

   During a friendly get-together, I told the owner about his great bike, some Gios history and the company's connection with the Belgian legend Roger de Vlaeminck. I also told him about my recent Colnago RdV project. Seeing my enthusiasm for the potential of his bike, he asked what should be done.

   Well, despite the really nice set of wheels with Shimano 600 8-speed hubs, the rest of the group was at the lower end of the Shimano spectrum. The first thing I suggested was Campagnolo components, and then I noted that I could give the paint and chrome a little bit of touch-up and polish. It was important to him that the bike stay in its flat bar configuration, at least until he "got back into cycling" a bit more, and I replied "whatever gets you out on the road, using this great bike!"

   I had a nice Campagnolo Chorus group and a companion set of wheels already in my shop stock, and I snagged a set of leather grips, plus a pair of silver brake levers that would match up better with the rest of the chrome. Unfortunately, his trigger shifters were toast, so I had to replace those, but the build would otherwise be fairly simple.

   I knew ahead of time there would be compatibility issues between the Campagnolo rear derailleur and Shimano shift levers, so I was ready with a vintage Ultegra mech to be substituted. I had some fun with it, by polishing out the logo and applying a Campagnolo script decal on the derailleur face place, just to make it match up better with the rest of the "Campy" parts.

 

   My friend Walt was visiting the other day in order to pick up his Pinarello Montello frameset to which I had recently applied decals and a headtube badge. He saw the setup on the Gios, and because he is a traditionalist, he scoffed a bit at the upright setup. I reiterated the importance of having someone comfortable with what he or she is riding and how I appreciate a customer's enthusiasm for riding a vintage bike, no matter what components are included 

   I'm not trying to convince people to go out and buy a new bicycle, since there are plenty of great used and affordable bicycles currently on the market, but is a great time to consider what you are riding and if it is giving you the kind of performance you desire. You can then decide if what you really want is to add a beautiful vintage machine with some history (hint, hint)!