Who knew? Not me.

It's been a long time since I've sought out any Campagnolo parts. But now that I'm transferring my old group from a Cannondale frame I no longer ride to my custom Evans frame, I still didn't really look. I just figured the old stuff was no more. 

I needed brake and shift cables for the build and I asked Dale to order a set of anything. She pulls up a complete NEW package of Campagnolo cables, housings, ferrules, and ends!

I dragged my feet a little, trying to rationalize cheap stuff. Dale slid my original brake levers toward me, with the new Campy hoods she'd found for them giving me her "seriously?" look. 

Then she also found brand new Campagnolo brake pads: black, old school, CAMPAGNOLO block lettering. I've only had 2 or maybe 3 sets of those pads in my entire life. (Those who've seen my videos can attest that I don't brake too much.)

Thanks Honey. 

One small step . . .

... and that's it. Just one small step, but it is a good one. Dale found Campagnolo brake hoods in Italy and they look and fit great!

These are non-aero original style where the brake cables come out the top and loop down old school. 

The other day, I hung the rear changer on the frame and put the rear wheel in to make sure that the changer could reach the inner most cog on the 9-speed cassette. It does fine. 

I'm getting pretty excited about this project!

Old School Nobody Gets

I got this project taking shape, that I have kept secret.

As I solved problems and I started collecting missing/needed parts, I started talking to people about it.  However, as I described the custom steel bicycle frame that I found on EBAY, and about how I planned to build it up using my old school Campagnolo group from an old bike that I wasn't riding, people looked at me like I had slipped into a language they didn't understand.

OK, no need to keep this secret any longer; nobody cares what I am doing.  Well, nobody but Dale, and maybe you.

Sean: "Dale, I've decided that the Evans frameset is Reynolds tubing."

Dale: "You know why you decided that?  Tube shapes.  I worried about a one-of-a-kind custom frame built by a frame builder in Denver and what he might have made it from. I had to learn how people were building frames, what was available for tubing and lugs, and then I looked at a ton of images and read about frame building.  I'm not sure that you can buy much other than Reynolds, but with those oval chain stays, rather than crimped the way most old Columbus tubesets were, I decided it was Reynolds too."

Sean: !!??!!

Custom modified seat tube lug

This image of the seat tube lug shows additional points added to the lug for beauty and symmetry. The EBAY listing had very little information:

"Custom Evans Road Bike Frame 56cm LARGE Hand Built Steel.
Hand built by a local frame builder in Denver, CO."

 No builder name, no angles, drop, rake, or specific tubing.  The listing did have bunch of good quality images from which I could see the artistry, attention to detail, craftsmanship, and that the geometry would be good for my use.  When I unpacked it at home, it was exactly what I expected.  Beautifully built and straght tubes.

This project got started when OLPH and Plain Jim started talking about beautiful steel lugged frames, and got me thinking about putting my Campagnolo group on something I'd ride again.  OLPH bought a Tommassini and had it built up with a group matching her other bikes.  She ordered the frame without all the name decals, like 10 or something usually on modern bikes.  It is a sweet electric blue and very uncluttered with no name tags except for the head tube badge.

Speaking of head tube badges:

Head tube badge of Kokopelli

"Kokopelli is a fertility deity, usually depicted as a humpbacked flute player (often with feathers or antenna-like protrusions on his head), who has been venerated by some Native American cultures in the Southwestern United States. Like most fertility deities, Kokopelli presides over both childbirth and agriculture. He is also a trickster god and represents the spirit of music.

In his domain over agriculture, Kokopelli's flute-playing chases away the winter and brings about spring." Wikipedia

Perfect for presiding over cycling too. 

Not a "Dues Paying" ride, but rather an "Early Season Shakedown" ride

So, when you rebuild an engine, or rebuild a bicycle, you take it out for a "shakedown" test drive to see how everything is, note where adjustments or changes need to be made. You can say the same thing about an early-season bicycle ride. Often times bikes and bodies are coming out of a deep sleep and things need to be checked out adjustments made, changes made.

Last weekend I joined Our Lady of Perpetual Headwinds for just such a ride. The rest of the Princeton Freewheelers joining that ride have been doing more training over the winter than I have. Truthfully, I have not done much riding or training of any kind for over two years. Okay, I was the slowest one there that day, but I had a great ride nonetheless. Laura has an "no drop" policy for her rides and the group regroups at the top of climes or as necessary.

Laura also had the first chain drop of the day. She and most of the riders rode the extra distance from her house to the starting point. Just before reaching the parking lot her chain fell off and got jammed between the chain rings and the frame. This part does not really count as a shakedown early-season chain drop for Laura's bike. Her bike is quite the diva, is high maintenance, and requires a lot of attention. "Miss Piggy" as Laura lovingly calls her bike makes these sort of attention demands frequently. 

Being late February, we had to watch carefully for new and very big potholes in the road from the winter freeze-thaw cycle as well as for patches of ice still on the road. I was the only one riding a cyclocross bike. Everyone else was on their  very nice high-end road bikes. "Jewel" as I have named my cross bike doesn't care about potholes, mud, ice slush, gravel, you name it. Jewel scoffs at danger, laughs of death. Somewhere along the ride, a rider in front of me slipped on a patch of ice in the road. While he regained his balance and did not fall right then, the slide pitched him kind of sideways and left him aiming for the shoulder of the road. He managed to almost regain control and parallel the road but his weight was still too far off the shoulder. As he sloughed along the snowbank for little while the inevitable happened. It cannot count as a fall, because the snowbank came halfway up to meet him. It was more of an ease over into making a one sided snow angel. Regroup, remount, no problem. 

Later in the ride, this same cyclist got a flat front tire. I pitched in to help and quite soon had a new tube in the tire and remounted. Laura pulled out a CO2 cartridge to quickly inflate the tire without having to use a hand pump. After carefully emptying the CO2 cartridge, the tire remained completely flat. I grabbed my frame pump to just fill the tire by hand as eyes started looking at me as if to say "what's the problem here? Can get going?" That was probably just my misperception, but I got nervous has my pump failed to inflate the tire. Rather than continue messing with this tube, I just swapped in another tube and Ron grabbed another CO2 cartridge to inflate the tire. I am sure that he gave me and my pump a bit of a "look." 

While I confirmed that my pump was fine by holding my thumb tight against the output and created good air pressure by pumping it, Laura found that the first tube I put in had a huge shredded section opposite the valve stem. We were all a bit confused about when and how this happened. Did the cartridge freeze and damage the tube? 

Once riding again, I pulled up next to Ron to reiterate that my pump was not the problem. We all laughed and Ron continued mock sneers at my pump. This sort of good-natured banter is one of the main advantages and fun of a group ride. 

Not long later Ron's chain became seriously jammed between his cluster and the spokes of his rear wheel. It took Ron, Jim, and me almost 10 minutes to get Ron's bike back on the road. 

Again I pulled up next to Ron as we resumed riding: "you wouldn't be the first to accuse my pump of practicing the Dark Arts."

Laughing, Ron unoquivically apologized for casting aspersions at my pump, and at the end of the ride pledged to seek out an equally powerful and mystical pump. 

As Jewel and I rolled to my car I could hear my pump demand: "RESPECT MY ATHORITY!"

Good fun; good ride. 

David Lindley - El Rayo-X on Highway 5, Central California

So, I'm on the train this evening commuting home from Newark to West Windsor, NJ and David Lindley - El Rayo-X comes on my music shuffle. That tune is forever connected for me to a road trip with Dale through the California Central Valley on our way to Los Angeles for a week of sun, surf, and fun in La La Land.  The old Love Van was rolling along just fine, but seriously low on gas.  Back then gas stations were few and far between on the No Man's Land that was Highway 5.  We'd been watching and worrying about gas for a while.  The gas gauge generally read almost a quarter tank low at any given time, but it had read empty for quite a while.  We were playing the El Ray-X tape and that song came on as a gas station slowly appeared through the shimmering heat waves of the highway.

Yeah, we broke into song and did the Happy Dance while driving.

First Triathlons

Last summer, one of my best friends John, raced his first triathlon.  He selected his target race and prepared for it wisely and thoughtfully.  He had a great time, and plans to race more triathlons in the future.  John chose a sprint distance for his first tri: 700 yard swim, 18 mile bike, 4 mile run.  A national caliber swimmer in college, this would almost be a warm-up swim for John.  The last few years, John has started cycling seriously and has completed the LiveStrong century ride two years in a row.  At about 6’6” and over 200 pounds, he is a big boy so the run would be his weakest portion, but he ran admirably and only lost a few places in his age group. 

Some first-timers get kind of panicky in the transitions and throw their bikes and clothes all over costing themselves time and penalties.  Not John.  He practiced and ordered his gear, then calmly and efficiently changed shoes, etc. like an experienced veteran.  I am very happy for John and enjoyed reliving the triathlon experience vicariously through him.

This got me to thinking about my first triathlon.  Ya, not quite such a smooth entry; more of a hazing.

I do not remember how I selected the Bud Light US Triathlon Series, San Francisco race in 1983, but it was not a wise choice.  Despite the name, the race took place in Livermore taking full advantage of the Central Valley heat.  I do remember reading that it would be the toughest race in the series and relished this acclaim.  The previous year, like so many others, I watched Julie Moss on Wide World of Sports completely break down at the end of the 1982 Hawaii Ironman, barely able to finally crawl across the finish line and I said to myself: “That looks like a great time!  I have GOT to do that!”

Back then, triathlons used a mass start: 800 of us hit the water together.  I do remember a lot of elbows and later noticed a nice swim-goggle imprint on the back of my left hand.  At the first turn buoy of the 2,000-meter swim we were so bunched up that everyone was now vertical in the water.  It was sort of like trying to tread water in an over-crowded elevator.  After the turn, we strung out in a thin line. About half way through the swim, I felt nausea coming on.  “OK, I’m in 100 feet of water, a long way from anything to hang on to and about to start barfing.  Better think how to do this, and fast.”  I discovered a heretofore-unknown ability to barf while my face was in the water and breath in as I turned my head during the recovery portion of my swim stroke.  Breathe, barf, breathe, barf.  Note to self: Denny’s steak and egg breakfast prior to a swim is NOT a good idea.

Coming from the cycling world, the 40-kilometer bike portion was uneventful, but a little hungry.

Back then, what would become today’s “international distance” triathlon had a 15-kilometer run.  That’s right: 1.25 mile swim, a 25 mile bike ride and a 9.6 mile hilly trail run in 90+ degrees and zero humidity.  Yes, a dry heat, kind of like an OVEN.  For a while around the 10K point of the run, I was having one of those delirium induced internal conversations trying to decide if I was just cramped up with side stitches or having a heart attack.  It was the former apparently.

While I didn’t lose all control and crawl my way over the finish line like Julie Moss at the 1982 Ironman, I was almost as destroyed.  And just like John last summer, I was hooked on this rockin’ good time.  Couldn’t wait to do it again.

Bermuda Triangle of Mercer County Park

So, the other day I finally tried mountain biking in the snow.  The first thing that has to go next time is step-in pedals.  They immediately turn to ice balls so that I cannot click in or have anything to step on.  I also will try it in less than 6 - 8 inches of snow!

Yep, six months after Dale fell in Mercer County Park, I fell in exactly the same place!

Definitely something mysterious going on here.