"Yes, my bike has a kickstand on it, and the little foot at the bottom of the kickstand fell off, so my bike fell over onto a post and it dented the top tube. I'd like it considered for..."
I'm thinking, "Don't say it. Don't you dare let that fucking word escape your lips..."
"Warranty."
Goddamnit. Even when the claim is legitimate, I hate the W-word. There has never been a positive discussion around the warranty of a product, unless you shop at good ol' REI, in which case you could return an item they've never sold, or because you change your mind, or because you're a douchebag, or if you have a SRAM product, in which case they seem to have a shotgun approach to quality control, in which they anticipate a 50% return rate and plan accordingly. I've heard Campy had a no questions asked warranty policy in the good ol' days as well, but I'm gonna corral this before it turns into a full blown, no holds barred, back when people had ethics, retrogrouchathon, but it does illustrate what a warranty is for, and what it is not for.
Read most warranties, and you will come across the following or something similar: "This item is guaranteed for X years from date of purchase against defects in materials or worksmanship."
Don't get me wrong. I believe in protecting consumers, which is what a warranty is supposed to do. That's where the clause, "defects in materials or worksmanship" come into play. What that says is, "Hey, if we fucked this up, we'll make it right. Mea culpa."
What it does not say is, "Hey, we'll replace your shit even if it broke because you were any or all of the above: stupid, willfully ignorant, abusive, unlucky, and/or negligent." Take some responsibility for the care and upkeep of your shit. Pay attention to it, or make friends with people who will.
And always, always remember: SHIT HAPPENS.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Monday, August 5, 2013
My Flat Tire Schema, Continued
"Hi, I was hoping you could help me pick out a tube."
"Sure. What size?"
"Seven hundred by twenty-three."
"OK. Presta or Schraeder?"
"Presta."
"Here you go."
"I'd also like to lodge a complaint."
I thought, "Yeah, well go fuck yourself. Or find somebody who's going to give a shit. They amount to the same thing as far as I'm concerned."
I said, "OK, what's going on?"
"Well, a while ago, one of you guys, I don't remember which, fixed a flat tire for me..."
I was afraid at this point he was going to tell me about a flat tire he'd gotten weeks or months after we'd allegedly fixed a flat for him and claim it was somehow our fault, as if a responsible bike shop would've installed a magic force field that would clear debris from the path of the tire. That is the kind of shit up with which the ABW does not put.
But, it turns out he had a legitimate claim, maybe. He got a flat, and when the mechanic was changing it, he said the tube was pinched between the tire and rim. I know it happens, although when it does, at least on a road tire, the pressure blows everything up before the wheel makes it back on the bike, or the mechanic notices the growing bulge, quickly rolls the wheel out onto the sales floor, dives behind the counter, and covers his ears. Ha ha, fuck you sales guys.
But, I know if the pinch is small enough, and the bead tight enough, it can happen like he claimed it happened, and that is no es bueno at all. Imagine what could/would finally cause that tire to blow: increased pressure. The kind of increased pressure that might be generated by heating the air in the tube. The kind of heat that might be generated by a wheel sitting in a hot car.
Or by heavy braking because the bike is being piloted down mountain switchbacks. No es bueno at all.
Thankfully, none of that happened, and I'm feeling like the grumpy douche I am for wanting to punch this guy in the throat for bringing up what sounds like a legitimate issue. We then got to talking about the frustrations of flat tires, and how they seem to travel in packs. This guy never got flats until he got that first flat, and then he got three in a couple months.
I could relate. Believe it or don't, but I almost never get flat tires. I used to tell myself some bullshit about how in tune I was with whatever garbage I had to ride over, and somehow telepathically guided my tires around the nasty bits capable of causing punctures. Maybe. As I get older, my ego gets more wrinkled and saggy, and I'd feel more comfortable making claims like that if somebody could show me data proving I actually get fewer flats than average, but I digress.
Last week, I got a flat on my bar bike. It was a speedy one. I could hear the leak when on the bike, and had to walk a couple blocks back home. Because in addition to being an egomaniac I am also a magnificently cheap bastard, I brewed myself a cup of coffee and sat down to patch the hole. 15 minutes later, I'm back in business.
On the very next ride, same exact fucking thing happens. Now, I had inflated the tube and found the hole. Marked it with Sharpie. Lined it up to the hot patch on the tire and tried to find the offending sharp object. Nada. Flipped tube 180 degrees. Still nada. I then carefully did the ol' visuotactile examination, running my hands carefully through the inside of the tire while looking at the outside. As is so often the case, I found nothing and assumed whatever had punctured the tube was gone.
After the second flat, I did the same thing - inflated the tube, found the hole, and noted with glee that it was EXACTLY the same distance from the valve stem in the opposite direction from the first hole. Now that's some data bitches. This time, I turned the tire inside out, and there it was: a honkin' big piece of glass that had so neatly cut the tread it was fully encased in the rubber when viewed from the outside, but (I'm assuming) only extended into the interior of the tire when under load. I dug it out and sealed up the cut with some super glue, patched the second hole, and slept well that night knowing I'd solved that issue.
What's my point? FLAT TIRES FUCKING HAPPEN. Even with my telepathic ability to ride between punctures, and my superhuman mechanical skills, and my Sherlockian powers of deduction, they happen. If you can't accept that, riding bikes is going to be a whole lot less enjoyable. Learn how to fix a flat. Carry what you need to fix one on the road, or don't ride any further than you want to walk. If you're buying a bike and the sales person doesn't mention this, find another bike shop. If they do, they are not trying to rip you off.
And then ride your fucking bike.
"Sure. What size?"
"Seven hundred by twenty-three."
"OK. Presta or Schraeder?"
"Presta."
"Here you go."
"I'd also like to lodge a complaint."
I thought, "Yeah, well go fuck yourself. Or find somebody who's going to give a shit. They amount to the same thing as far as I'm concerned."
I said, "OK, what's going on?"
"Well, a while ago, one of you guys, I don't remember which, fixed a flat tire for me..."
I was afraid at this point he was going to tell me about a flat tire he'd gotten weeks or months after we'd allegedly fixed a flat for him and claim it was somehow our fault, as if a responsible bike shop would've installed a magic force field that would clear debris from the path of the tire. That is the kind of shit up with which the ABW does not put.
But, it turns out he had a legitimate claim, maybe. He got a flat, and when the mechanic was changing it, he said the tube was pinched between the tire and rim. I know it happens, although when it does, at least on a road tire, the pressure blows everything up before the wheel makes it back on the bike, or the mechanic notices the growing bulge, quickly rolls the wheel out onto the sales floor, dives behind the counter, and covers his ears. Ha ha, fuck you sales guys.
But, I know if the pinch is small enough, and the bead tight enough, it can happen like he claimed it happened, and that is no es bueno at all. Imagine what could/would finally cause that tire to blow: increased pressure. The kind of increased pressure that might be generated by heating the air in the tube. The kind of heat that might be generated by a wheel sitting in a hot car.
Or by heavy braking because the bike is being piloted down mountain switchbacks. No es bueno at all.
Thankfully, none of that happened, and I'm feeling like the grumpy douche I am for wanting to punch this guy in the throat for bringing up what sounds like a legitimate issue. We then got to talking about the frustrations of flat tires, and how they seem to travel in packs. This guy never got flats until he got that first flat, and then he got three in a couple months.
I could relate. Believe it or don't, but I almost never get flat tires. I used to tell myself some bullshit about how in tune I was with whatever garbage I had to ride over, and somehow telepathically guided my tires around the nasty bits capable of causing punctures. Maybe. As I get older, my ego gets more wrinkled and saggy, and I'd feel more comfortable making claims like that if somebody could show me data proving I actually get fewer flats than average, but I digress.
Last week, I got a flat on my bar bike. It was a speedy one. I could hear the leak when on the bike, and had to walk a couple blocks back home. Because in addition to being an egomaniac I am also a magnificently cheap bastard, I brewed myself a cup of coffee and sat down to patch the hole. 15 minutes later, I'm back in business.
On the very next ride, same exact fucking thing happens. Now, I had inflated the tube and found the hole. Marked it with Sharpie. Lined it up to the hot patch on the tire and tried to find the offending sharp object. Nada. Flipped tube 180 degrees. Still nada. I then carefully did the ol' visuotactile examination, running my hands carefully through the inside of the tire while looking at the outside. As is so often the case, I found nothing and assumed whatever had punctured the tube was gone.
After the second flat, I did the same thing - inflated the tube, found the hole, and noted with glee that it was EXACTLY the same distance from the valve stem in the opposite direction from the first hole. Now that's some data bitches. This time, I turned the tire inside out, and there it was: a honkin' big piece of glass that had so neatly cut the tread it was fully encased in the rubber when viewed from the outside, but (I'm assuming) only extended into the interior of the tire when under load. I dug it out and sealed up the cut with some super glue, patched the second hole, and slept well that night knowing I'd solved that issue.
What's my point? FLAT TIRES FUCKING HAPPEN. Even with my telepathic ability to ride between punctures, and my superhuman mechanical skills, and my Sherlockian powers of deduction, they happen. If you can't accept that, riding bikes is going to be a whole lot less enjoyable. Learn how to fix a flat. Carry what you need to fix one on the road, or don't ride any further than you want to walk. If you're buying a bike and the sales person doesn't mention this, find another bike shop. If they do, they are not trying to rip you off.
And then ride your fucking bike.
Friday, July 26, 2013
BB "Standards": Square to Spline
Last post, we covered a little about evolution and the first branch of the BB Tree of Life: between cottered cranks and square taper cranks. This post, we're going to dig a little deeper into the competitive pressures exerted on BB systems and talk about why ISIS (and others) are the next logical branch on the BB Tree of Life. But first:
Evolution. The gradual change in expressed genes due to the inherent advantage conferred by those traits over competing traits. In the bike industry, it is the gradual change in the characteristics of technical systems due to advantages inherent in those systems as compared to other, competing systems. In biology, competitive advantage is mind bogglingly broad. It could be defined as faster, slower, shorter, stronger, lighter in color, etc. It's not even worth trying to sort it out without context.
In the bike industry, it's a little easier. I'd say the following are pretty generally accepted as competitive pressures:
So at some point in the past, the limitations of the cottered crank became apparent, and gave rise to the square taper BB system. The square taper BB was much better, but because competitive pressures are relative, it was only a matter of time before somebody developed something "better." In the case of bicycles, the pattern is to address the weakest link first, making it better, which exposes the next weakest link. Prior to the 80s, bikes were made of relatively narrow diameter steel tubing. Even the nicest frames would be considered "flexy" by today's standards, so the stiffness of the BB system was not the weakest link in the chain of performance, and since they were durable and inexpensive, they didn't get a lot of attention.
With the rise of alternative frame materials and larger diameter tubes, frames stopped being the most flexible (i.e. least efficient) component of the bicycle and other components started getting scrutinized, and at some point, some rider or manufacturer realized his (because during the time period in question, you can be sure it was a him) square taper BB was too flexible. A high school physics student knows that larger diameter tubes are stiffer, and since they are stiffer, can use less material, which if done properly, can actually make a stiffer component that is also lighter (a lesson Cannondale and Klein capitalized on with their oversized aluminum frames).
With frame stiffness increasing, all other components would be scrutinized, and the BB was a logical place to focus since it's amongst the first mechanisms transferring the force from the legs into forward motion. How do you make it stiffer? You take a cue from physics and use a spindle that's larger diameter. The first to try this was Magic Motorcycle Components with their crankset that was later licensed by Cannondale under their CODA brand name.
You want to talk about a design ahead of its time? Look into these cranks. I hesitate to bring them up because the design of these cranks jumps so many steps we need to examine. But hey, they were the first to try a larger diameter crank spindle.
In the interest of keeping these digestible, we'll leave it there for now. Do some digging on Magic Motorcycle and be prepared to be amazed. Next time we'll talk about Octalink and why Magic Motorcycle/CODA didn't succeed.
Evolution. The gradual change in expressed genes due to the inherent advantage conferred by those traits over competing traits. In the bike industry, it is the gradual change in the characteristics of technical systems due to advantages inherent in those systems as compared to other, competing systems. In biology, competitive advantage is mind bogglingly broad. It could be defined as faster, slower, shorter, stronger, lighter in color, etc. It's not even worth trying to sort it out without context.
In the bike industry, it's a little easier. I'd say the following are pretty generally accepted as competitive pressures:
- Weight
- "Stiffness" which is really a measure of efficiency
- Cost
- Aesthetics
- Aerodynamics
- Durability
- Other
So at some point in the past, the limitations of the cottered crank became apparent, and gave rise to the square taper BB system. The square taper BB was much better, but because competitive pressures are relative, it was only a matter of time before somebody developed something "better." In the case of bicycles, the pattern is to address the weakest link first, making it better, which exposes the next weakest link. Prior to the 80s, bikes were made of relatively narrow diameter steel tubing. Even the nicest frames would be considered "flexy" by today's standards, so the stiffness of the BB system was not the weakest link in the chain of performance, and since they were durable and inexpensive, they didn't get a lot of attention.
With the rise of alternative frame materials and larger diameter tubes, frames stopped being the most flexible (i.e. least efficient) component of the bicycle and other components started getting scrutinized, and at some point, some rider or manufacturer realized his (because during the time period in question, you can be sure it was a him) square taper BB was too flexible. A high school physics student knows that larger diameter tubes are stiffer, and since they are stiffer, can use less material, which if done properly, can actually make a stiffer component that is also lighter (a lesson Cannondale and Klein capitalized on with their oversized aluminum frames).
With frame stiffness increasing, all other components would be scrutinized, and the BB was a logical place to focus since it's amongst the first mechanisms transferring the force from the legs into forward motion. How do you make it stiffer? You take a cue from physics and use a spindle that's larger diameter. The first to try this was Magic Motorcycle Components with their crankset that was later licensed by Cannondale under their CODA brand name.
You want to talk about a design ahead of its time? Look into these cranks. I hesitate to bring them up because the design of these cranks jumps so many steps we need to examine. But hey, they were the first to try a larger diameter crank spindle.
In the interest of keeping these digestible, we'll leave it there for now. Do some digging on Magic Motorcycle and be prepared to be amazed. Next time we'll talk about Octalink and why Magic Motorcycle/CODA didn't succeed.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
You're doin' it wrong
Going to pause the BB "Standard" Evolution/Bitching essays for a post about doing it wrong in all the right ways.
A couple weeks ago, I was lucky enough to attend a party that started with a mountain bike ride. I had to fly to get there, which meant I was going to borrow a bike because flying with a bike and/or shipping a bike in any way is way fucking expensive. I don't really have any problems with borrowing bikes; in fact, I think it's a great way to experience bikes that I don't want or can't afford. But there are certain parts of my personal bikes that really are personal - shoes/pedals and helmet. But, these are heavy and take up a lot of space in a suitcase. With airlines charging for any checked bags these days, that means if I fly, I'm usually not going to be bringing shoes and pedals.
So for this trip, I packed my "workout shoes" which is to say the shoes I wear when I want to look like I'm going to work out, am working out, or just finished working out. They're sporty. They're also of the new minimal school and are not far removed from being barefoot. They're flexy. I also packed one pair of bib shorts.
And that's it. I had "prepared" for this ride by bringing shorts and barefoot running shoes. You're doin' it wrong.
The bike I was borrowing was fuggin amazing. Fully rigid single speed, ti, light, lively, awesome. Not a bike I could ever afford, ever. We screwed on some plastic platform pedals in the parking lot. From this friend I also borrowed a helmet. Found out later it belongs to his wife. She's understanding. Also on this ride was my brother, who I found out later had never ridden a bike off road before. On top of that, his bike was purchased when he was graduating high school about 50 years ago. It's a Raleigh M40 with the old Shimano cantilever brakes whose plastic spring carriers all broke. It was completely bone stock down to the brake pads and Greenfield kickstand. Oh, did I mention my brother and I are both 6'2" tall? It's a 16 or 17 inch frame.
So there it is; no gloves, no clipless, no water, no food. Just me, a chamois, a bike, and a brother even more poorly equipped than me. Read the mags. Take your pick of any of the trash out there and they'll say you're doing it wrong.
Know what? IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME. I'm not saying all the shit that goes with riding can't be fun, or that it doesn't affect the ride experience for the better. But it just doesn't matter in the end. Even when I swapped bikes with my brother and found myself on that shitty, tiny, heavy bike, it didn't matter. I was still having a blast.
So just ride your fucking bike. Feel like it's too smallheavyshittyuglycheap? Try riding it. While you're riding, STOP THINKING ABOUT THE BIKE. Look around. Smile at the people you see. Stop to appreciate the skylinehorizonmountainsflowershotchicks. True story - if you're appreciating the experience, the bike and all the shit that go with it just become tiny, insignificant details.
Just ride your fucking bike!
A couple weeks ago, I was lucky enough to attend a party that started with a mountain bike ride. I had to fly to get there, which meant I was going to borrow a bike because flying with a bike and/or shipping a bike in any way is way fucking expensive. I don't really have any problems with borrowing bikes; in fact, I think it's a great way to experience bikes that I don't want or can't afford. But there are certain parts of my personal bikes that really are personal - shoes/pedals and helmet. But, these are heavy and take up a lot of space in a suitcase. With airlines charging for any checked bags these days, that means if I fly, I'm usually not going to be bringing shoes and pedals.
So for this trip, I packed my "workout shoes" which is to say the shoes I wear when I want to look like I'm going to work out, am working out, or just finished working out. They're sporty. They're also of the new minimal school and are not far removed from being barefoot. They're flexy. I also packed one pair of bib shorts.
And that's it. I had "prepared" for this ride by bringing shorts and barefoot running shoes. You're doin' it wrong.
The bike I was borrowing was fuggin amazing. Fully rigid single speed, ti, light, lively, awesome. Not a bike I could ever afford, ever. We screwed on some plastic platform pedals in the parking lot. From this friend I also borrowed a helmet. Found out later it belongs to his wife. She's understanding. Also on this ride was my brother, who I found out later had never ridden a bike off road before. On top of that, his bike was purchased when he was graduating high school about 50 years ago. It's a Raleigh M40 with the old Shimano cantilever brakes whose plastic spring carriers all broke. It was completely bone stock down to the brake pads and Greenfield kickstand. Oh, did I mention my brother and I are both 6'2" tall? It's a 16 or 17 inch frame.
So there it is; no gloves, no clipless, no water, no food. Just me, a chamois, a bike, and a brother even more poorly equipped than me. Read the mags. Take your pick of any of the trash out there and they'll say you're doing it wrong.
Know what? IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME. I'm not saying all the shit that goes with riding can't be fun, or that it doesn't affect the ride experience for the better. But it just doesn't matter in the end. Even when I swapped bikes with my brother and found myself on that shitty, tiny, heavy bike, it didn't matter. I was still having a blast.
So just ride your fucking bike. Feel like it's too smallheavyshittyuglycheap? Try riding it. While you're riding, STOP THINKING ABOUT THE BIKE. Look around. Smile at the people you see. Stop to appreciate the skylinehorizonmountainsflowershotchicks. True story - if you're appreciating the experience, the bike and all the shit that go with it just become tiny, insignificant details.
Just ride your fucking bike!
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Let's Bitch About BB "Standards!"
Jesus fuck, where to start. Well, let's go a long way back, to establish a baseline for bitchiness in the bike industry. I'm reading The Dancing Chain, by Frank Berto. Amazing book. Really well done, very complete look at the evolution of the bicycle drivetrain. A little on the geeky side, but I'm into that kind of thing.
It didn't take long to realize that there isn't a lot that's been truly new on a bike's drivetrain for a LONG time. The Frenchies were experimenting with derailleurs that look remarkably like today's in the early 1900s. Since then, it's been a steady progression of adding gears. Most of the changes we note (e.g. wider rear hubs/dropouts) were and are the result of accommodating more gears. So what. So my point is, even way back then, there were the retro grouches who bitched about the additional gears, and planned obsolescence, and they were debating whether or not cycling was a feat of physical fitness or a technological contest. Change some of the details, and you have today's stupid fucks forever bitching about the rise of disc brakes on road bikes.
Which brings us back to BBs, and importantly, to the process of evolution. Let's start with evolution. I'm going to simplify the shit out of this, because it's been a long time since I used my completely worthless biology degree (yes, I really have one), and because I trust if I get anything too wrong, some pedantic douchebag will be happy to correct me in the comments.
If we tear away all the details, evolution is change in the frequency of expressed genes, or stated another way, it is change in how often we "see" different traits expressed. With humans, those traits are things like hair color or height or cranial capacity, and what we "see" as humans evolve is an increase in cranial capacity and an increase in height. Why? Because those traits conferred a competitive advantage over humans who didn't have them.
Bottom brackets. Starting way back, we have the cottered crank. This was a round spindle with a keyway machined into it. The crankarm had a corresponding round hole and keyway. The crankarm slipped loosely over the spindle, and the cotter was hammered into place and bolted tight to keep it tight. For those lucky enough to have worked on cottered cranks, you know their weaknesses: the cotters need to be tightened regularly, are prone to rusting in place or otherwise getting stuck, and the whole system is flexy. When those old farts got sick of dealing with those limitations, they developed the square taper bottom bracket, in which the crankarm features a tapered, square hole, and the BB spindle a corresponding square taper. The crankarm is fitted over the spindle and a bolt pushes the crankarm tightly onto the spindle.
Thus, we are introduced to the first significant branch on the evolutionary tree of bottom bracket standards. To the "left," we have cottered cranks, based on a loose fit held in place with a key, and to the "right," we have square taper cranks, held in place by friction generated by pressing the tapered hole of the crankarm onto the tapered spindle.
Why? The evolutionary pressure most easily identified as resulting in this change is durability. Properly maintained, a square taper BB/crank requires much less maintenance than a cottered system. Secondarily, you might argue the system is stiffer, but I have no data to support that claim. In any case, the result was and is that the square taper system became virtually ubiquitous, and the cottered system all but became extinct.
Next post, we'll keep working our way up the tree to talk about why ISIS is just another version of the ol' square taper BB system.
It didn't take long to realize that there isn't a lot that's been truly new on a bike's drivetrain for a LONG time. The Frenchies were experimenting with derailleurs that look remarkably like today's in the early 1900s. Since then, it's been a steady progression of adding gears. Most of the changes we note (e.g. wider rear hubs/dropouts) were and are the result of accommodating more gears. So what. So my point is, even way back then, there were the retro grouches who bitched about the additional gears, and planned obsolescence, and they were debating whether or not cycling was a feat of physical fitness or a technological contest. Change some of the details, and you have today's stupid fucks forever bitching about the rise of disc brakes on road bikes.
Which brings us back to BBs, and importantly, to the process of evolution. Let's start with evolution. I'm going to simplify the shit out of this, because it's been a long time since I used my completely worthless biology degree (yes, I really have one), and because I trust if I get anything too wrong, some pedantic douchebag will be happy to correct me in the comments.
If we tear away all the details, evolution is change in the frequency of expressed genes, or stated another way, it is change in how often we "see" different traits expressed. With humans, those traits are things like hair color or height or cranial capacity, and what we "see" as humans evolve is an increase in cranial capacity and an increase in height. Why? Because those traits conferred a competitive advantage over humans who didn't have them.
Bottom brackets. Starting way back, we have the cottered crank. This was a round spindle with a keyway machined into it. The crankarm had a corresponding round hole and keyway. The crankarm slipped loosely over the spindle, and the cotter was hammered into place and bolted tight to keep it tight. For those lucky enough to have worked on cottered cranks, you know their weaknesses: the cotters need to be tightened regularly, are prone to rusting in place or otherwise getting stuck, and the whole system is flexy. When those old farts got sick of dealing with those limitations, they developed the square taper bottom bracket, in which the crankarm features a tapered, square hole, and the BB spindle a corresponding square taper. The crankarm is fitted over the spindle and a bolt pushes the crankarm tightly onto the spindle.
Thus, we are introduced to the first significant branch on the evolutionary tree of bottom bracket standards. To the "left," we have cottered cranks, based on a loose fit held in place with a key, and to the "right," we have square taper cranks, held in place by friction generated by pressing the tapered hole of the crankarm onto the tapered spindle.
Why? The evolutionary pressure most easily identified as resulting in this change is durability. Properly maintained, a square taper BB/crank requires much less maintenance than a cottered system. Secondarily, you might argue the system is stiffer, but I have no data to support that claim. In any case, the result was and is that the square taper system became virtually ubiquitous, and the cottered system all but became extinct.
Next post, we'll keep working our way up the tree to talk about why ISIS is just another version of the ol' square taper BB system.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Road Disc Brakes and Whiners
I'm surprised the discussion around road disc brakes has taken this long to raise my ire high enough to overcome my apathy and lethargy, but it finally has. As reported on VeloNews, Bike Rumor, and elsewhere, Zipp has introduced a disc version of their 303, both in full carbon clincher and tubular versions. As of now, it is not a disc-specific version of the rim, leading to much speculation about future generations of the wheel. In addition to this the Ultra New SRAM Red is going to 11, and will feature hydro disc brakes.
I don't know why, but I cannot help reading the comments sections on these blogs. Never has it done anything other than make me angry at the ignorance of those readers who have enough energy and misguided passion to spew their filth, comfortable in the anonymity offered by the interwebs (at least on Bike Rumor; VeloNews comments are tied to a Facebook profile, which is better than nothing, but close enough to anonymous). I spent a solid half hour reading through the comments of readers as they vomited about the inferiority of road discs, how they are a solution to a problem that doesn't exist, and how unfair it is that SRAM has the audacity to introduce new products when they just introduced new products LAST YEAR. I'll address these in turn:
1. The Inferiority of Disc Brakes on a Road Bike
The argument usually goes like this, "I once read this blog post about a guy who crashed really hard because he was riding a road bike with disc brakes and they failed." Most often, this argument is backed by an argument about issues of heat dissipation.
The issue of heat dissipation is a valid one, and one I don't believe has been totally addressed by the road disc technology we've seen thus far (I do not include the Ultra New Red hydros in this, because I haven't read any reviews of them yet), but heat dissipation was long ago addressed by mountain disc technology. I cannot recall the last time I read a negative review of a mtb brake due to heat fade, although that was a frequent issue with first and second generations of mtn hydro brakes. If road brakes are not there yet with respect to heat management, they will get there.
How? My predictions: consumers or brands or both will recognize that a 140mm rotor on the front is not adequate. It may provide plenty of stopping power, but the shorter circumference (read smaller surface area, which is directly related to heat dissipation) and decreased mass are an insufficient heat sink. 160mm is will be the standard, at least in the front where it matters more.
Shimano has spent considerable resources developing heat dissipation technology. By almost all accounts, their mtb disc brakes are excellent. Other brands will follow suit, developing things like finned rotors, mixed-metal rotors, and radiators on calipers. All this technology exists and has been proven on mtb discs. It's only a matter of time before material and manufacturing technology advance enough to make weights acceptable for road bikes.
2. The Disc Brake Solves a Problem That Doesn't Exist
Argument: "I can already lock up the tires on my road bike with the caliper brakes. Why would I need discs?"
Superficially, the argument is sound - road calipers are already strong enough to lock up the tires - for the science geeks out there, there are two types of friction: static and sliding. Static friction means the parts are stationary relative to each other. Sliding friction means they're...well... sliding. Simplistic explanation, but adequate for this discussion. The force of static friction is always greater than the force of sliding friction, i.e. if you're locking up your tires, you are not slowing as quickly as possibly, no matter what.
The problem with this argument is it assumes an ideal environment, in which things like moisture and temperature are not considered, and in which the only variable being considered the the power of the brake. It's just an inadequate way of evaluating the performance of a brake.
Consider modulation. This is the ability to apply the brakes such that you do NOT lock up the wheels. Thought of another way, it is the ability to finely adjust the amount of stopping power. Better modulation means finer control over that power; worse modulation means poorer control over it. In the olden days, when brakes had poor modulation, it was said they were either on or off. Modulation is arguably a more important performance variable than power. As many point out. nearly all braking systems on all bikes are now powerful enough to lock up the tires. Other performance variables to improve are durability (never a high priority because if something lasts forever, you only sell it once), and modulation. So, modulation gets better, and we're all safer and happier.
This argument also disregards the other components affected by moving the brake from the rim to the hub. Most importantly, if a rim doesn't need a brake track, it can either be made lighter, or stronger at the same weight. Either is better, as you're moving mass from the outside of the wheel, where it's harder to get it moving, to the center of the wheel, where it's easier.
I know what you're going to say here. "They still can't make a disc wheelset and hydro disc brake set that together are lighter than current road wheels and brake systems." True, but they will. If there is an Axiom of The Bike Industry, it is that parts will always get lighter.
3. How Dare SRAM Introduce New Products When They Just Did So Last Year
What? Are you fucking kidding me? I was blown away by these whiners out there. "I'm so pissed because I just bough New Red, and now there Ultra New Red, and my Old Red sucks." No, it doesn't. Your 2013 Red is exactly as good as it was when you bought, minus the usual wear and tear. It is your perception of it that changed. New products come out annually, and it's been that way forever in the bike industry. Maybe that another Axiom of The Bike Industry: brands will always come out with something newer and better.
What's even more interesting to me is that the arguments and complaints themselves haven't changed at all. Every time a gear is added, people bitch because their old stuff won't work with new stuff. Every time a new tool is required, mechanics bitch because they need to buy a new tool. Every time a new technology is introduced, people are adamant that it CANNOT be as good as the old, tried and true technology. Read "The Dancing Chain" by Frank Berto. People bitched when they were figuring out how to offer two gears on a fixed gear bike!
Look, I'm not an early adopter. My mtb had to be stolen before I considered moving to a 10 speed setup, and the same is true of my road bike and 11 speeds. I'm not a racer, and on those occasions when I decide racing would be a good, if misguided, idea, I'm not nearly fast enough to push the performance envelope of my equipment. For a guy like me, and for 98% of the bike industry, this is true, no matter what we or the market departments tell us. It just. Doesn't. Matter.
But, as I have said in previous posts, things are better now. Even when we disregard mushy variable around performance, we can agree that it is safer to not have to move your hands to shift your gears or apply your brakes. Conceding diminishing returns, it is easier to pedal a lighter bike. Metals and manufacturing are improved, so pieces like spokes and rims are stronger. They're better. Taken care of properly, there is not reason a bike of reasonable quality, with the appropriate maintenance, cannot last forever. Yes, by the time you die, the only pieces of original equipment might be the frame and handlebars, but hey, it's the same soul, isn't it?
Just ride your fucking bike, OK? Just ride it, and love it.
I don't know why, but I cannot help reading the comments sections on these blogs. Never has it done anything other than make me angry at the ignorance of those readers who have enough energy and misguided passion to spew their filth, comfortable in the anonymity offered by the interwebs (at least on Bike Rumor; VeloNews comments are tied to a Facebook profile, which is better than nothing, but close enough to anonymous). I spent a solid half hour reading through the comments of readers as they vomited about the inferiority of road discs, how they are a solution to a problem that doesn't exist, and how unfair it is that SRAM has the audacity to introduce new products when they just introduced new products LAST YEAR. I'll address these in turn:
1. The Inferiority of Disc Brakes on a Road Bike
The argument usually goes like this, "I once read this blog post about a guy who crashed really hard because he was riding a road bike with disc brakes and they failed." Most often, this argument is backed by an argument about issues of heat dissipation.
The issue of heat dissipation is a valid one, and one I don't believe has been totally addressed by the road disc technology we've seen thus far (I do not include the Ultra New Red hydros in this, because I haven't read any reviews of them yet), but heat dissipation was long ago addressed by mountain disc technology. I cannot recall the last time I read a negative review of a mtb brake due to heat fade, although that was a frequent issue with first and second generations of mtn hydro brakes. If road brakes are not there yet with respect to heat management, they will get there.
How? My predictions: consumers or brands or both will recognize that a 140mm rotor on the front is not adequate. It may provide plenty of stopping power, but the shorter circumference (read smaller surface area, which is directly related to heat dissipation) and decreased mass are an insufficient heat sink. 160mm is will be the standard, at least in the front where it matters more.
Shimano has spent considerable resources developing heat dissipation technology. By almost all accounts, their mtb disc brakes are excellent. Other brands will follow suit, developing things like finned rotors, mixed-metal rotors, and radiators on calipers. All this technology exists and has been proven on mtb discs. It's only a matter of time before material and manufacturing technology advance enough to make weights acceptable for road bikes.
2. The Disc Brake Solves a Problem That Doesn't Exist
Argument: "I can already lock up the tires on my road bike with the caliper brakes. Why would I need discs?"
Superficially, the argument is sound - road calipers are already strong enough to lock up the tires - for the science geeks out there, there are two types of friction: static and sliding. Static friction means the parts are stationary relative to each other. Sliding friction means they're...well... sliding. Simplistic explanation, but adequate for this discussion. The force of static friction is always greater than the force of sliding friction, i.e. if you're locking up your tires, you are not slowing as quickly as possibly, no matter what.
The problem with this argument is it assumes an ideal environment, in which things like moisture and temperature are not considered, and in which the only variable being considered the the power of the brake. It's just an inadequate way of evaluating the performance of a brake.
Consider modulation. This is the ability to apply the brakes such that you do NOT lock up the wheels. Thought of another way, it is the ability to finely adjust the amount of stopping power. Better modulation means finer control over that power; worse modulation means poorer control over it. In the olden days, when brakes had poor modulation, it was said they were either on or off. Modulation is arguably a more important performance variable than power. As many point out. nearly all braking systems on all bikes are now powerful enough to lock up the tires. Other performance variables to improve are durability (never a high priority because if something lasts forever, you only sell it once), and modulation. So, modulation gets better, and we're all safer and happier.
This argument also disregards the other components affected by moving the brake from the rim to the hub. Most importantly, if a rim doesn't need a brake track, it can either be made lighter, or stronger at the same weight. Either is better, as you're moving mass from the outside of the wheel, where it's harder to get it moving, to the center of the wheel, where it's easier.
I know what you're going to say here. "They still can't make a disc wheelset and hydro disc brake set that together are lighter than current road wheels and brake systems." True, but they will. If there is an Axiom of The Bike Industry, it is that parts will always get lighter.
3. How Dare SRAM Introduce New Products When They Just Did So Last Year
What? Are you fucking kidding me? I was blown away by these whiners out there. "I'm so pissed because I just bough New Red, and now there Ultra New Red, and my Old Red sucks." No, it doesn't. Your 2013 Red is exactly as good as it was when you bought, minus the usual wear and tear. It is your perception of it that changed. New products come out annually, and it's been that way forever in the bike industry. Maybe that another Axiom of The Bike Industry: brands will always come out with something newer and better.
What's even more interesting to me is that the arguments and complaints themselves haven't changed at all. Every time a gear is added, people bitch because their old stuff won't work with new stuff. Every time a new tool is required, mechanics bitch because they need to buy a new tool. Every time a new technology is introduced, people are adamant that it CANNOT be as good as the old, tried and true technology. Read "The Dancing Chain" by Frank Berto. People bitched when they were figuring out how to offer two gears on a fixed gear bike!
Look, I'm not an early adopter. My mtb had to be stolen before I considered moving to a 10 speed setup, and the same is true of my road bike and 11 speeds. I'm not a racer, and on those occasions when I decide racing would be a good, if misguided, idea, I'm not nearly fast enough to push the performance envelope of my equipment. For a guy like me, and for 98% of the bike industry, this is true, no matter what we or the market departments tell us. It just. Doesn't. Matter.
But, as I have said in previous posts, things are better now. Even when we disregard mushy variable around performance, we can agree that it is safer to not have to move your hands to shift your gears or apply your brakes. Conceding diminishing returns, it is easier to pedal a lighter bike. Metals and manufacturing are improved, so pieces like spokes and rims are stronger. They're better. Taken care of properly, there is not reason a bike of reasonable quality, with the appropriate maintenance, cannot last forever. Yes, by the time you die, the only pieces of original equipment might be the frame and handlebars, but hey, it's the same soul, isn't it?
Just ride your fucking bike, OK? Just ride it, and love it.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Becoming the Old Guy
It's the slow season, so I don't have any regularly scheduled hours right now. I go in as needed to close up or to cover if somebody has jury duty or an early flight. I like it. I like having all my evenings and weekends off, no questions asked, and I'll like it fine when things pick up in another month and I start getting put back on the schedule. It's all good.
Last night, I was back in the shop for the first time in a little over a month. In my absence, we'd hired a new sales lady... Let's call her Gina. I introduced myself to her, explained my schedule, what my day job was, etc. I also met the new mechanic who will be doing our production stuff this summer - tune ups and the like. He took a good look at my ugly as shit bar bike, paying particular attention to the Dunelt chain guard and DIY chain tensioner, made by cutting down an old Shimano 600 rear derailleur so it's only got one pulley. I'd spent (foolishly?) a lot of time with a belt sander, taking off all extraneous bits of metal, making it nice and curvy. But I digress.
So I met the newbies, and got caught up with the old farts, and I thought about Dave. At the first shop I worked in, Dave was me. He was older, married, with a little girl. Dave was cool. He taught me how to hop on the back wheel of my old Specialized Hardrock. He taught me a couple tricks about fixing bikes, which I probably remember, but probably use often enough now that I forget which tricks were his and which came from the dozens of other wrenches I've worked with over the years. He tried to convince me that riding the 26 miles into work was doable, when the longest ride I'd ever taken to that point, on my ol' Hardrock, was 12 miles, on the flatasapancake gravel roads around my hometown. I didn't believe him, and never did it. He was cool, and he was nice to me when I didn't know shit about shit.
I realized last night, I could be Dave. Trivial as it sounds, I don't take the responsibility lightly. Fact is, I'm older and more experienced that a lot of these dipshits with whom I work. I've learned a thing or two, and I know how to teach. I try to be nice. I try to show the pleasure in doing a job right even where nobody looks. It matters. I heard secondhand that two of the others, Skippy and Al, had been chatting about who would be the first to befriend me on the Face Books. I don't know who won, but I'm "FBriends" with both of them. It's flattering.
Dave, wherever you are, I hope I do the job of being the Cool Old Guy justice.
Last night, I was back in the shop for the first time in a little over a month. In my absence, we'd hired a new sales lady... Let's call her Gina. I introduced myself to her, explained my schedule, what my day job was, etc. I also met the new mechanic who will be doing our production stuff this summer - tune ups and the like. He took a good look at my ugly as shit bar bike, paying particular attention to the Dunelt chain guard and DIY chain tensioner, made by cutting down an old Shimano 600 rear derailleur so it's only got one pulley. I'd spent (foolishly?) a lot of time with a belt sander, taking off all extraneous bits of metal, making it nice and curvy. But I digress.
So I met the newbies, and got caught up with the old farts, and I thought about Dave. At the first shop I worked in, Dave was me. He was older, married, with a little girl. Dave was cool. He taught me how to hop on the back wheel of my old Specialized Hardrock. He taught me a couple tricks about fixing bikes, which I probably remember, but probably use often enough now that I forget which tricks were his and which came from the dozens of other wrenches I've worked with over the years. He tried to convince me that riding the 26 miles into work was doable, when the longest ride I'd ever taken to that point, on my ol' Hardrock, was 12 miles, on the flatasapancake gravel roads around my hometown. I didn't believe him, and never did it. He was cool, and he was nice to me when I didn't know shit about shit.
I realized last night, I could be Dave. Trivial as it sounds, I don't take the responsibility lightly. Fact is, I'm older and more experienced that a lot of these dipshits with whom I work. I've learned a thing or two, and I know how to teach. I try to be nice. I try to show the pleasure in doing a job right even where nobody looks. It matters. I heard secondhand that two of the others, Skippy and Al, had been chatting about who would be the first to befriend me on the Face Books. I don't know who won, but I'm "FBriends" with both of them. It's flattering.
Dave, wherever you are, I hope I do the job of being the Cool Old Guy justice.
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