Friday, April 10, 2015

The Bike that Rides Like a Car

I recently moved, and part of that move was acquiring a house with a garage.  I was particularly excited about this part of the move, not because I planned to use it for anything like parking our car, but because I finally had room to easily and conveniently park all of our bicycles, as well as room to work on them.  Furthermore it opened up the acquisition of non-standard size bicycles, bicycles that previously would have been too large for our small apartment.  Namely: a cargo bike.  In my case, an Xtracycle Edgerunner with the NuVinci N360 drivetrain.



Some might know that prior to the move (unfortunately) taking me away from it, I've spent the last couple of years working at a bike shop that specialized in cargo bikes, and the Xtracycle was one of our top products.  Most of our customers for the bicycle had big loads they needed to carry with it, usually one, two, or even three small children.  And it works superbly for loads like that.  However, since I've acquired my own, it's rapidly become one of my favorite bicycles for just riding around town and running errands, not necessarily just for huge loads.  We don't have kids yet, so most of my use is for non-live cargo.  Certainly, it's made food shopping on the bike easier, especially when the store has a really good deal on that 12 pack of IPA.  But I love riding it even when the mission doesn't require its full capacity.

Part of it is the fit.  Like all of my favorite bicycles, the large (19") Edgerunner with an uncut fork puts me in a nice, upright position, and the moderately swept bars with ergonomic grips are super comfortable.  It's a fit that works great both for jamming across town at a high pace or relaxed cruising with my wife, in any kind of clothing or footwear.  Even the stock, generic looking saddle is damn comfortable (at least for short distances), although I'm sure it'll get replaced with a Brooks at some point.  The great thing about the Xtracycle in particular is that this comfortable fit is paired with a frame design that is really well suited to it.  While the extra-long rear end of the bike is designed to help keep the bike balanced and easy to ride with a large load, it also makes the bike super well balanced with an upright riding position, since it keeps the center of gravity balanced between the two wheels, instead of biasing the rear wheel as an upright riding position does with more traditional frame geometries.  It handles great at any speed, both stable and more nimble that you would expect for such a large bike.  The icing on the cake in terms of the bike's comfort and confidence are the awesome 2.35" Schwalbe Big Ben tires, which ride smooth and fast, and offer tons of traction.

Which brings me to the second reason this bike has become my go-to: the parts spec, namely the drivetrain.  This is my first bike with an internally geared hub, and the NuVinci is a great example of the type.  The ability to shift across the gear range almost instantaneously means that I am always in the right gear, able to put power to the rear wheel without huge effort.  The continuously variable transmission (CVT) in this particular hub accentuates this ability even further.  What this means while riding is that I can keep my effort level constant, no matter my speed and even through stop-and-go city riding, which pretty much describes most riding on the gridded street system where I live.  I almost never have to stand up and put power down to the pedals to start up from a stop, as I often do with my derailleur or single speed bicycles.  This constant energy expenditure makes the bike super easy to ride, even when I am tired, thus making it more likely that I will choose it over my other vehicles (including my car) when I am headed out.  The icing on the drivetrain cake is that the constant chainline of the internally geared hub means that the the bicycle is also fitted with a partial chainguard, which means I never have to roll up my right pant leg to ride it.  Just hop on and go.

The final reason that the Xtracycle has become my go-to bicycle for errand running is its capacity, but not, as I stated above, because I need its full capacity all the time.  Instead, the Xtracycle has shown me the joys of overkill.  Having all that capacity means that any load smaller than its max capacity is a no-brainer.    No longer do I need to carefully consider which particular bag configuration on my standard-racked bike will be best suited to the errand before heading out.  No longer do I need to consider whether a bike or my car would be the easier way to carry a load.  When I'm shopping, I can impulsively pick up extra things (like that 12 pack) without worrying how I'm going to carry them.  When I leave the store, I don't need to spend a long time carefully packing the bike so I can get myself and the load home safely.  I just hop on the bike, get what I need, drop it in the X2 bags and go.  Done.

So, a vehicle that's comfortable to ride, requires a consistent, non-taxing level of energy to operate, and has more capacity than you really need, making normal loads super convenient?  The Xtracycle thus approaches the holy grail of alternative transportation.  For me, it's the bike that rides like a car.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Crashed: Nitto vs. Surly



So, I crashed yesterday.  In my history of crashing bikes, it was a relatively minor one.  The bike took most of the damage, and I escaped with minor road rash and a couple of bruises, and after getting the bike rideable again I was able to ride the ~10 miles home with pretty much no problem.  I'm thankful for the bike taking the damage, as my last couple of crashes have seen the bike pretty much unscathed and me damaged (the last one enough to land me in the emergency room and five staples in my knee).  Furthermore, the way the bicycle was damaged is pretty interesting.  Blog gold!

First, the details of the crash: I was riding my Long Haul Trucker along one of the levees that separates the American River from the Sacramento suburb of Arden, paralleling the American River Trail that runs from Sacramento all the way up to Folsom.  The levees can provide a fun alternative to the paved trail sometimes, since they are usually paved with gravel.  However, the stretch that I was riding on had become so hard packed that it felt as if I were riding on pavement, so I decided to cut back to the River trail, using one of the paved connector ramps that connects the trail to the levee.  The particular one that I decided to use was at an oblique angle to my direction of travel, so it required a sharp turn to enter.  Basically thinking I was on pavement, I didn't slow down much for the corner and took it with much exuberance.  I immediately regretted this decision as my front wheel lost traction on the less-hard packed gravel along the edge of the levee and I went ass over teakettle down the ramp.

Picking myself up and ascertaining that the bike had taken more damage than me, I set about righting it so I could ride home.  The front end of the bike had completely jackknifed around, with the front wheel turning more than 90 degrees to the right.  Normally, the front end rotation is limited by the bottom corner of my handlebars hitting the top tube, and by the front rack hitting the downtube.  Both handlebars and rack are made by Nitto: 58cm heat-treated aluminum Boscos and a chromoly M18 ("Mark's Rack") with the standard aluminum struts, respectively.  So, the crash really turned into a grudge match between my Nitto bits and my Surly frame.

Round One: Bars vs. Top Tube




In the battle of bars vs. top tube, the bars definitely won.  Whereas their rotation is normally limited by the top tube, the force of the crash was enough to push the bars past the top tube, so much so that I actually had to pull the stem off the steerer so I could turn the fork forward again.  When the head-treated Nitto aluminum met the double-butted Surly 4130 chromoly, the steel was the first to give.  As the bars contacted the top tube, the force (very minorly) dented the top of the top tube, while the bars escaped with a barely-noticeable scuff to their underside.  The dent happened right in the middle of the tube's length, right where you would expect the wall thickness of the butted tube to be the least, and it is a very gentle dent.  I actually didn't even notice it until I got on the bike to ride home and was looking down at the tube from above, and noticed the distortion in the tube's finish.  I have zero qualms about continuing to ride this frame now, one of the beautiful things about a material like steel.  It also goes to show the quality and strength of the Nitto handlebar, and why their are well worth their price.  In terms of swept-back bars appropriate for a high-performance upright bike, they really are without equal in their ability to hold up to the demands of enthusiastic riding (which, occasionally, includes crashing).  Many lesser swept-back bars intended for "casual" or "city riding," made from plain aluminum, would not have fared as well and would probably need replacing after such an incident.

Round Two: Rack vs. Down Tube


In the second round, Nitto didn't fare as well.  The front rack swung around with the fork and hit the down tube of the frame.  The best I can ascertain, the rear/upper struts of the rack (I use a four-strut mounting on this fork, seen here) hit the down tube right where the down tube cable stops bolt up.  The force badly bent all four rack struts, and twisted one of the mounting tabs that connect the struts to the rack platform.  These struts are solid aluminum, but probably not heat-treated, given how easier they are to manipulate when you are installing the rack.  The down tube, on the other hand, shows no signs of damage, even after removing the cable stop and inspecting underneath.  This impact happened much closer to the tube junction, so I assume that the wall thickness of the tube was greater here than where the impact happened on the top tube.  Since the rack was pushed against the tire, I needed to remove it in order to ride home.

I definitely need to replace at least the rack struts.  I haven't decided whether or not to replace the entire rack or try to straighten out the bent tab and re-install this platform with new struts.  Usually, I use an extra degree of caution with stuff mounted to the front of the bike, since something failing up there has the potential of stopping the front wheel suddenly, which causes a much worse crash than something stopping the rear wheel suddenly.  However, given the general beefiness of the rack platform and the redundancy of the mounting on this bike, it might be safe to ride still.  In any case, bike funds are pretty low right now, so it may be a while before I get around to doing anything.

In general, I'm really happy with how the damage from this crash shook out.  My injuries are minor, and I feel relieved that in the confrontation of handlebars, rack, and frame, the rack took the worst of it, since while not having a rack is convenient, it does not affect the rideability of the bike in any way.  I was also sure glad to have my rear rack and bag on the bike too, since I was able to just strap the damaged rack to my saddle bag, strap my front bag to the rear of the rear rack, and ride home with no issues.

Now, I wonder if there are ways I could substantially increase front-end traction in these situations, or if I just need to be more careful going around corners with sketchy surfaces?  Or both?

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

High Performance Upright: Towards a New Category?



I curated this Flickr gallery to start cataloguing and expressing a type of bicycle that I would like to use this oh-so-neglected blog to highlight, discuss, and promote. This is a type of bicycle that I have become interested in over the past couple of years through my own riding and tinkering, through my work in a small bike shop focused on fun, practical bikes, and through my participation in certain online niche cycling communities, namely the Rivendell Owners’ Bunch, the iBOB list, and the larger Flickr cycling community

I struggled to name the Flickr gallery as I started to build it, because I don’t think that this type of bicycle is as of yet instantiated enough in cycling culture to have a named category strongly associated with it. As this type of bike started to become a regular occurrence at the shop where I worked the past couple of years, my boss there started calling the category “High Quality Casual.” Certainly, this started to get to some of what this category is about, because at first glance these bikes seemed similar in overall configuration to a “hybrid” or “sport comfort” bike. However, the bikes I’m referring to generally have a higher quality of frame and components than is typically found on a bike intended for someone who doesn’t want to spend more than, say, $1000 on a bicycle, and takes a relatively non-strenuous approach to riding. However, I don’t think that “High Quality Casual” fully captures what this category is about for me.

The strongest similarity between the category of bicycle that I’m trying to describe and “casual” bikes is the handlebar setup, particularly the shape of the handlebars and their position. Perhaps the biggest identifying feature is some type of swept-back upright handlebar, set so the grips are near, at, or above saddle height. And it is exactly this feature which causes many “real” (read, not “casual”) cyclists to dismiss such a setup offhand. “Oh, I like to do long rides/ride quickly/climb hills/go touring so that type of setup isn’t going to work for me.” Or, “that’d be great if were just commuting, but I want to use this bike for recreational riding as well.” In short: upright handlebars aren’t really appropriate for any type of riding where performance matters, right?






Here’s the thing: since I built up my Surly Long Haul Trucker with an upright handlebar setup almost two years ago, it has become my preferred bicycle for pretty much everything, including long day rides, fast rides, rides with lots of climbing, and, as of this past August when I did the SF-LA route on it, touring as well. Namely: riding where performance matters. The handlebars don't hold me back; in fact, they make it easier and more comfortable to get the most out of my bike. Before this, in my first ~ten years as a “serious” cyclist, the bikes I used for these purposes all had drop bars. Sure, some of them were funky drop bar setups, with wide, flared, shallow-drop bars set at or above seat height, but they were all drop bar bikes, because that’s what you needed to really get the most out of your bike and yourself. The Surly changed all that. It showed me that a bike with an upright, comfortable riding position can also be a high-performance bicycle. It can come close to that holy grail for many cyclists, the one bike that can do pretty much everything.

Thus, it is this combination of upright comfort and high performance that really defines the category I’m getting at here. In addition to upright bars, these bikes have frames made from high-quality materials (mostly some type of chromoly steel) that balance strength, light weight, and ride quality. These bikes have lightweight wheels and fast, supple (though not necessarily skinny) tires. They have high-quality, high-performance drivetrains that shift cleanly and easily, with gearing appropriate to the terrain they are designed to encounter. They have highly effective braking systems for good control, and they handle well on variety of surfaces. In short, they are every bit as efficient as modern bikes can be, but without the drop bars or low, flat, straight handlebars traditionally associated with performance.

So, the Flickr gallery was named “High Performance Upright Bikes,” and that’s what I’m going to try to flesh out in some upcoming posts. Certainly, it’s not the catchiest name and it is kind of a mouthful, but I do think it’s the clearest description of the category I’m trying to describe.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

"Fun" Geometry and Mountain Biking Culture: some preliminary thoughts

 I posted this on the Rivendell list in response to a thread started by a long-time Rivendell owner who recently bought a Surly Krampus for off-road rides, but isn't satisfied with it, especially the way it climbs. 

I don't want to add just another voice in the peanut gallery, but I have had similar experiences recently.  I bought my first "real" mountain bike earlier this year, a pretty standard aluminum hardtail 29er from Raleigh.  By "pretty standard," it's geometry is the kind of mass-market stuff that Rivendell geometry departs from: steepish seat tube angle, short chainstays, long top tube, relatively low bars.  To keep the reach in check, I even sized down a size from the recommended, very non-Riv indeed.  Previous to this, a lot of my off-road exploring had been done on a Long Haul Trucker with Albatross bars, so probably somewhat similar to your experience on your Atlantis. 

At first, I was pleasantly surprised by the climbing ability of the Raleigh, but in retrospect I think it was the fact that it had the lowest gears of any bike I've ridden recently, as well as the traction afforded by 29x2" knobbies versus the 700x42 file treads on the LHT.  On longer rides with a lot of climbing, however, I definitely get worn out on that bike.  I think a lot of this is down to the riding position: the wide, low flat bars force me into one position, with very little options for changing my hand position or back angle.  I plan to cut down the bars and add Ergon grips with built-in barends to address some of this.  However, especially off-road, not only does the component spec of the bike force me into this low position, but its geometry demands it in order to maintain traction and handling.  Specifically, the short chainstays and long front center/top tube force a certain approach to climbing.  I need to lean low over the handlebars and sometimes slide forward on the seat in order to keep traction on that front wheel and be able to properly direct the bike.  The times that I've had to put a foot down going uphill on this bike, it hasn't been because I've run out of gas, but because the front wheel has started to wander off my line and I haven't been able to reign it back in. 

If you read mainstream mountain biking mags and bike reviews, right now there is kind of a self-reinforcing obsession with this type of geometry on the part of designers and reviewers.  People are obsessed with short chainstays, long front centers, short stems; they describe such geometry as "aggressive," "playful," and "fun" (that "aggressive" and "playful" are synonyms for each other is indicative of the general techno-cultural problem with mountain biking these days).  And I think this is further reinforced by the type of riding featured in MTB magazines and videos: high speed, big jumps, riding up and down ledgy technical features.  All of this leaves those of us who want to get away for a few hours, to enjoy the escape and beauty of riding trails for a few hours but not feel like we're riding out of the depth of our bicycles, out in the cold somewhat. 

If you look at the Surly marketing around the Krampus, you'll see that they designed this bike very much in the mainstream conception of "fun" geometry: short chainstays, even with giant tires; long front center/TT, short stem, low-ish handlebars.  A lot of the early photos of the bike featured guys wheelieing them and boosting them off jumps.  I wonder if optimizing the geometry around this type of riding has made it not as ideal for your type of riding, specifically grinding up long, steep climbs.  Perhaps an ECR, with it's touring geometry, might be different. I've never ridden one, and I've only ridden someone else's Krampus around the block, so I'm not really in a position to say.  Certainly, I'm intrigued by the ECR myself; even though I don't really see myself doing long bikepacking tours, the fact that it's geometry, at least on paper, might allow a position closer to that of my LHT, has me interested.  I'm also super interested to try the long-chainstayed Hunqapillar proto featured on the BLUG a few weeks ago: high handlebars at a comfortable reach, relatively slack seat tube, long chainstays to keep everything planted even while maintaining an upright riding position. 

For the moment, I've accepted that my current MTB is less than ideal from a fit perspective, and I appreciate it more for its ability to help me stay in control going downhill, much the same as you. 

Saturday, April 5, 2014

Richard Sachs on Being Confounded

I've said that I never want to be the type of blogger that just re-posts what other people produce, but I felt moved today by a short post on Richard Sach's blog.  He's been posting short passages from older writings recently, and in general he's always had fascinating things to say about the life of being a framebuilder.  This is a part of an answer he gave to an interview question in 2010 (so, after close to four decades of framebuilding) regarding how long he expected to keep working. 
I am routinely confounded by the process. The lack of confidence or the deeply rooted feeling that, since I am self-taught, something is missing – this is an emotion that envelopes every working day I have and every frame I build. Because of this simple fact that I am never completely content with what passes as a finished bicycle, I continue to come in every Monday to see if I can redeem myself for all my past gaffes, miscues, and blunders. It sounds so drama queen-esque typing out these words, but this is how I feel. If it ever changes, maybe the word “retire” can be used in a sentence. For now, I have many years worth of work in which to see if I can possibly get it nailed.
I find these words of incredible value to myself as a basically self-taught bicycle mechanic, who routinely finds himself confounded by the technology presented to him (see, for instance, my last post).  I take comfort in the fact that being confounded by the technology, by the process, is not antithetical to a skillful practice, a practice that can develop and grow over decades. Indeed it, it might be a key part of such a practice.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Stable Changes and Technological Love/Hate

I concluded my last post with these words:

"The truth is, because of some other priorities in my life right now, any major bike projects will probably wait for a year or two, so this is my stable as it will be for a while.  And I'm pretty satisfied with it."

One of the things I find funny about this whole blogging thing is how once I write down how I feel about something, I kind of let go of it and my feelings quickly change.  The above statement is a perfect example.  Only three months or so after saying I had stabilized my stable, I had sold my Casseroll road bike and used the funds to buy my first "real" mountain bike, a Raleigh Talus 29 Comp, in size Large (19").  Quite rightly, the purchase of my first 29er coincided with my 29th birthday in early February.  Here it is, my 29er for 29, in all of its glory:

A 29er for my 29th birthday
 This bike represents a major departure from bike business as usual, for me, being my first hands-on experience with a number of technologies:

-Aluminum frame construction.  I've basically only bought steel frames until now, enjoying the durability and smooth ride.  With 29x2" tires and a sprung fork (see below) on this beast, I'm not really worried about shock absorbing qualities of the frames as much.
-Suspension!  Specifically, a RockShox XC 32 fork with Solo Air spring.  Nothing to write home about for MTB geeks, but just quality enough and adjustable enough that I feel like I'm getting a sense of what modern suspension technology has to offer.  It has a compression lockout.  I use it often.
-Fully modern drivetrain with indexed "rapid fire" shifters, matched derailleurs (Shimano Deore "Shadow," meaning that the rear derailleur has a smaller lateral profile that's less likely to get smacked into rocks), and outboard bearing BB with two-piece crankset (again, Deore).  So far so good on this front.  I don't mind the wide Q-factor, in fact, it feels good, and I do appreciate the fact that my bearings aren't pressed into the frame, so they're easy to replace.  The only problem has been a bit of front derailleur tire rub in the granny gear, which is more of a frame design or adjustment issue.  
-Hydraulic Disc Brakes, specifically the Shimano BR-M395's.  As far as I can tell, this is a non-series OEM brake that is roughly matching the Deore/Alivio quality of the rest of the bike.

This last one, especially, has been the biggest love/hate technology for me on this bike.  In part, I bought this bike in order to give myself more experience and make myself more comfortable working on these types of technology, since I am increasingly called upon to set up and service them in my job as a mechanic.  This is especially true of disc brakes, since they are rapidly becoming the norm for cargo bikes, our bread and butter at the shop where I work.

Marincello trail

First, the love.  I bought this bike because I have a burgeoning interest in off-road riding, fueled by my explorations over last summer and fall on the Trucker.  And living up to my expectations, the 29er is by far the most capable off-road machine I've ever ridden, giving me much more confidence on the fire trails I had previous ridden on the Trucker, and opening up new riding opportunities on technical trails I might have thought twice about riding before.  In particular, I've loved the single track in Joaquin Miller Park above Oakland, and I said this on the Rivendell list after my first ride there with some riding companions from the list:


"..,being a relative novice to technical off-road riding, I was thankful for every last ounce of tire volume, fork travel, and hydraulic fluid I had, and totally humbled by the skills of my companions on their steel all-rounders."

Joaquin Miller overlook.

The hydraulic disc brakes are no small part of that.  When I'm working my way down a steep and bumpy descent I feel really in control, always having the braking power I need and with the braking surface separate from the rim, never worrying about over-braking or rim damage.  I feel the same way about the fat tires and the suspension fork: they let me build up speed when I'm confident, but they also let me slow down and keep my speed in check when the trail is sketchy, to take things at a pace that my novice off-road skills can keep up with.

But then, there's the hate.  While the technologies on the new bike have increased my confidence as a novice off-roader while riding, as a mechanic they've taken all of my skills to get set up satisfactorily.  The first few weeks of the new bike's life were marked by many multi-hour sessions in the shop, trying to get everything dialed just so.  The brakes were the biggest part of this; they took a long time to where they were hitting the rotor squarely and evenly from both sides, and not rubbing when released.  The standard "pull the levers with the calipers loose to self-align, then tighten caliper mounting bolts" simply didn't work, and I tried everything to get them to align properly: advancing and lubricating the pistons, pushing them back and pumping the levers to let them find their natural position, facing the mounts, etc.  In the end, I got them to work, but it was a long process.

All of this reinforces something I've learned about disc brakes: when everything is spot on, they work great.  However, when things are off just slightly, they don't work nearly as well.  Compared, for instance, to a set of V-brakes, they have fewer means of adjustment.  A hydraulic disc brake caliper has no adjustment for pad position other than the overall position of the caliper, while even the cheapest v-brakes have independent adjustments for the position and angle of each pad, not to mention the spring tension in each arm and overall cable tension.  Furthermore, these adjustments have ranges of multiple centimeters, while the whole travel of disc brakes happens in fractions of millimeters.   In the "less advanced technology" of v-brakes, there are built in means to deal with imperfection, and an experienced mechanic can still adjust cheap brakes to work surprisingly well.  As I work with mass-produced disc brakes on mass-produced frames, I just don't find the same means to deal with the imperfections inherent in things built to certain quality-control and cost margins.  That frustrates me.

All of this makes me curious to try a bike designed for off-road riding that uses simper technology.  When I was describing how much control I felt off-road while on the new bike, a coworker asked, "Yeah, but how much of that is tires?"  How would a bike with similarly knobby 29x2" tires, but with a rigid frame/fork and rim brakes feel off road?  Is over-braking and rim damage actually a concern?  However, there is almost no choice when it comes to mountain bikes in terms of braking systems, no chance to compare braking systems on the same bike.  Virtually all mass-produced mountain bikes use disc brakes exclusively, and hydraulic brakes are rapidly marching down the price points.  The only mass-produced 29er mountain bike frame that has mounts for both disc brakes and rim brakes, as far as I can tell, is the Surly Ogre. There are small production frames like the Rivendell Hunqapillar and upcoming Velo-Orange Camargue that use rim brakes, but with no fittings for disc brakes and more all-round-ish geometry, they are a commitment in a different direction.

There's not much out there for the the relatively novice, technologically skeptical, empirically curious off-road rider. 




(Having said all this, I'll probably post a glowing endorsement of hydraulic disc brakes in a couple of months).

Monday, October 21, 2013

Fall 2013: State of the Stable

Redwood Park

The bike builds and changes of spring and early summer led to some great riding all through the summer; between that and traveling, working, weddings, etc, most of my time's been taken up, which is good for me.  Riding has been when I can and where I can, mostly rides of an hour or three up in the Berkeley and Oakland hills, a lot of it in the hours before or after a workday.  This kind of riding is the core of my practice as a cyclist and are really what do it for me, I've come to realize.  Once in a while I'll get to together with people to do a longer ride or even an all-day epic, but I'm slowly realizing that my fantasies of randos or epic tours don't really reflect my natural inclinations as a cyclist.  I try to refocus, appreciate what I have here in the East Bay, close at hand.  It really is a great place to ride.

My bike stable has stabilized on three bicycles, and I think that it will stay that way for a while, at least while my wife and I devote most of our resources towards other goals.  My three bike stable is:

Trucker

1. The Trucker.  Building up this bike as I have has turned out to be a great addition to my stable.  Its present configuration is super versatile.  As I said in my original post about it, it's opened up tons of mixed-terrain and off-road riding to me, and I've really enjoyed bombing around the East Bay trails on it.  Sometimes I wish for fatter tires or suspension, but the truth is that would make it less capable as an allrounder.  With a my Blackburn rear rack bolted up and a pair of Ortleib panniers, I've done a great little overnight trip with Megan on it.  In addition to touring capability, its carrying capacity with panniers also means it's a great utility bike, and it's become my go-to for big grocery loads and even trips to Target or the like.  Just yesterday it carried a huge grocery load home--it felt like something around 50lbs.  I've even done long-ish road rides on it, when I felt like its low gears would come in handy, and haven't felt held back by the lack of drop bars or anything.  It's latest upgrade came this week when I finally got my SP SD-8 dynamo hub built into a wheel (laced it 32h 3x to a polished silver Sun CR18 with Wheelsmith 14g spokes, brass nips), and got that mounted up with a good basic LED dyno light from Avenir.  With the dyno light, I'm sure it'll see even more use as the days get shorter around here.

This bike has really become something I've sought after with many builds, and mused about on this blog before, but only feel like I've really got it with this one: a true allrounder.  Jack of all trades, master of none, but so capable that I wouldn't hesitate to take it anywhere.  It's gearing is low enough and it feels efficient enough to tackle long rides and long climbs, but it's also burly enough with fat enough tires that it can handle basically any of the roads or trails I have accessible to me around here.  It feels good with a load, but not overly heavy without one.  It's got lighting, and it will probably get fenders before too long.  It's comfortable and well balanced, and handles really well.  As I said before, for any one type of riding, I could see making improvements.  A simpler drivetrain, maybe with an internally geared hub, would be better for urban riding.  But that would remove some of gear range for the mixed-terrain riding.  Offroad, fatter tires and/or suspension might come in handy, but I'd probably regret them on the long road climb up to the trailheads around here.  It's pretty awesome as is.  If circumstance forced me to have only one bike, chances are that it'd be this one.

At the same time, having the Surly as the designated all-rounder has allowed my other bikes to evolve as well, to become more focused on the types of riding that they are better at than the Surly, and in so doing to become better.  So while the Trucker is the allrounder, the one bike I'd have if I'd have to have one, I'd sure miss my other bikes as well. 

Quickbeam

2. The Quickbeam.  The Quickbeam has kept it's role as upright, Bosco-barred fixed gear basic transportation bike, but has gotten stripped down a bit.  Now that I have the Trucker for big grocery loads, the rack and bag on the Quickbeam have been taken off.  For most of my basic riding, to and from work and around Berkeley, I'm only really carrying a lock, waterbottle, and maybe an extra layer, so I get on really well with just my smallest messenger backpack or even just a musette on this bike.  Furthermore, the rear brake (and brake lever) have gone along with the freewheel from the flop side of the hub.  I'm also running a slightly lower gear (42x19 versus 42x17), which is great for maintaining my cadence heading up the grades towards downtown Berkeley and accelerating from a stop sign, of which there's a lot when you're riding around here.  I'm really enjoying the lighter, more bare bones bike.  It harkens back to my old fixed gear beaters that were the original inspiration for the bike, and it's focused really well on its purpose. 

Stripping off the rear brake lever (as well as removing the vestigial "stopper button" from the remaining front brake lever) has had the added benefit of opening up the hand positions on the Bosco Bullmoose bars.  I find myself grabbing a different portion of the long grip area depending on how I'm feeling and how much I'm hustling, including the forward extremities, where it drops down to the horizontal flat section.  In fact, holding on to the forward curves, thumbs inward and pointing down (like they would be as you slide your hands forward from the grips and rotate your wrists inward) is a surprisingly ergonomic position.  It doesn't sound like it, but it is.  I'll have to get a picture of it. I should probably wrap the bars forward of the Oury grips with some cotton tape, but for the moment I don't mind grabbing bare metal, and there's some interesting beausage happening with the nickel plating finish on the bars.  I may want the bars wrapped as it gets colder and damper, however.

Casseroll

3. The Casseroll.  The Casseroll has become my road bike, period.  This is the bike I take out when the route is paved and I want to go fast.  It's riding position is low down and stretched out, and it is the only one of my bikes at the moment with drop bars.  It's great at that, and it's got an eclectic mix of new and not-quite-old-enough-to-be-called-vintage road bike parts that works well for me: long reach brakes for 28mm tires and 35mm fenders, 7spd shimano DT shifters and derailleurs shifting 7 of 8 speeds on a Campagnolo rear wheel, Salsa Cowbell bars, Selle SMP Glider saddle (what can I say, the yellow one was on sale...).

This used to be the bike with which I was search for the "one" fit...the transcendent fit that would be the basis for all of my other fits.  In the early part of this year, there was a lot of work on the trainer with levels, measuring tape, a Size-o-Matic stem, and a couple of different saddles mounted way back on a S-84 post searching for it.  Truth be told, I wasn't really satisfied with any of the results I got, and I didn't ride this bike a ton in the later spring, around the same time I was discovering riding more upright and building up the Trucker.  

And then something interesting happened.  The original seatpost I had on the Trucker wasn't working for my, so I cannibalized the S-84 from the Casseroll for it.  Wanting to keep three working bikes, just cause it was the first time I'd had three working bikes in years, I just threw the SMP Glider saddle, the last saddle I had been experimenting with, back on using a Thomson seatpost I had in the bin.  The Thomson, with a measly 18mm of setback despite its oddly kinked design, gave me probably the farthest forward position on this bike I had tried since I discovered the concept of balance and saddle setback being related.

When I tried it out, low and behold, it didn't feel as horribly unbalanced (weight on hands) as I had remember.  Furthemore, the bike felt fast, and I began to really enjoy it's responsiveness.  So what, I thought; if this is my fast bike, let me have the position on it which makes me the fastest, even if it might be slightly less comfortable.  The Casseroll has become my go-to for a ritual I've taken to calling "Ferrari Friday," where I ride my road bike to work, taking a long detour through the hills on my way there.

Then another thing happened.  My wife and I started attending a weekly Beginner Yoga class at a studio near our house.  Mostly, we just wanted to get some weeknight exercise together, and I wanted to get some exercise different from bicycling.  From the very first class, it was clear that while I'm pretty strong and flexible in certain parts of my body, overall I lack a lot of core strength and flexibility, especially in my hamstrings, pelvis, and lower back.  In just a couple of months of going to these classes (and I've definitely missed a few), I've already started to notice a difference in my body, and if nothing else I'm much more aware of my limitations and am working to make them better. In terms of riding, even from the early days of going to class I've noticed a difference in comfort and power on the bicycle, and I notice it most drastically on the Casseroll.  I can reach the drops easier, and feel balanced while being able to apply power.  It's clear that some of the basic limitations of my body have been a major limiting factor in terms of bike fit, and it's cool to be able to work on that and change my body, little by little.  

I still have a long way to go: on the weeks where I don't do Yoga, I can definitely feel it when I hop on this bike.  Furthermore, I'm still not 100% satisfied with my position on it.  I'm not in pain at all anymore--this is basically a comfortable bike for me now--but there are a couple of things I want to play around with.  I find myself sliding forward on the saddle while climbing, which can be annoying with the raised nose on the SMP.  The hoods still feel pretty far away.  I think the truth is that maybe, this winter, some more trainer fitting work and real-world testing with a yet further forward saddle position might be in order, to help dial in the reach while seeing if I can still feel balanced farther forward.  Of course, such a position might be as far forward as I used to ride on this bike, with standard seatposts and saddles, and the truth is I've never felt 100% fitted properly on this thing.  What might be different now?  Three things: One, I'm using a shorter reach stem and bars than I ever have in the past, meaning I might not need to shove my butt back as far to balance.  Two, I've started using plain sneakers on platform pedals (MKS Touring Lite) with Power Grips as foot retention, rather than my old SIDIs with Time ATAC clipless pedals, and have naturally moved to a more midfoot riding position, and consequently a lower saddle height, which helps me feel more balanced overall.  Finally, the core strength and flexibility work I'm doing with Yoga mean that a lot of limitations I had before are slowly getting better.

I'm still not convinced that the rather long effective top tube on this bike (60.5cm) is right for me, and I wonder about trying a road bike with a shorter top tube.  Just yesterday I discovered this site in the UK, and started fantasizing about something classic and lugged, with a nice short top tube...even the older ones with 120mm spacing, I could use one of those cool new 120mm cassette hubs hitting the market....ahh....hmmm...........

*snaps back to attention*

The truth is, because of some other priorities in my life right now, any major bike projects will probably wait for a year or two, so this is my stable as it will be for a while.  And I'm pretty satisfied with it.