Old friends.

My two-wheeled obsession started a relatively young age.  The day the training wheels came off, I began what would be a lifelong love of bicycles and cycling.  I wasn’t the most coordinated or athletically-inclined child, but those limitations seemed to vanish the moment I threw a leg over my bike.

Bicycles also satisfied my urge to tinker.  Armed with my well-worn copy of Anybody’s Bike Book and my father’s tools, I would spend countless hours learning the intricacies of my bicycle’s various components (although back then they were simply called parts).

Inside dad’s toolbox was the holy grail of tools–genuine Campagnolo cone wrenches.  Thanks to Bicycling! magazine and Eugene Sloane’s Complete Book of Bicycling, the Campagnolo mystique was not lost on ten-year-old me.  While I may have casually borrowed my father’s other tools, I treated those cone wrenches with a sort of reverence.

Eventually I began amassing my own set of bike tools; the commandeered Campagnolo spanners serving as the collection’s foundation.  Bikes came and went, but no matter how much I pruned my stable, those two wrenches remained in my possession.  When I hit a particularly rough patch, and N+1 turned to zero, those tools became talismans–reminders of what once was.

I don’t know if my father–or mother, for that matter–ever fully understood the impact that bicycles and cycling had on me.  When mom died, I rode my bicycle as a way of coming to grips with her passing.  In dad’s final years, many of our long-distance conversations included talk of the riding here in Colorado.  After his death, I found that I missed those post-ride phone calls more than I ever could have imagined.

Today I plan on venturing into the garage, opening up my tool chest, and pulling out those Campagnolo cone wrenches.  To others it may seem odd, but to me, it’s a fitting way to remember my dad on Father’s Day.

Although GRAVELBIKE is essentially a one-man show, I’ve been extremely fortunate to receive support from some amazing people in the bicycle industry.  Guys like Mike from Black Mountain Cycles and Peter from Vecchio’s, our advertisers, and the companies that have provided product/review samples.  Your generosity has been instrumental in GRAVELBIKE’s growth.

Ride everything.
Mark @ GRAVELBIKE

QBP recalling some Salsa forks (Vaya and La Cruz)

Thanks to BRAIN for publishing this information.  I’ll be checking my Vaya’s fork ASAP (turns out mine was not part of the recall).

Customer reviews on various online retailers’ sites consistently praised the Dura-Ace (7900) pads.  Despite not being thrilled with other stock Shimano pads, I decided to give the Dura-Ace pads a try.  The 7900 pads–officially designated as R55C3–are rather unassuming looking.  The black compound doesn’t exactly scream top-of-the-line, and there are no visual cues denoting their status in the Shimano hierarchy.  In fact, if I didn’t know better, I would have easily mistaken them for the stock units that they would be replacing.

Dura-Ace 7900 pads fitted to Shimano BR-R650 47mm-57mm brakes.

The Dura-Ace pads fit any Shimano-compatible holder.  Since I was using the stock R650 holders, a 2mm hex key was the only tool necessary to complete the pad swap.  To insure the best possible performance, I cleaned the rims’ brake tracks with rubbing alcohol, and lightly sanded the pads to remove any mold release or “shine.”

Remember what it was like when you rode a bicycle with really good caliper brakes for the first time?  That’s how it felt with the R55C3 pads.  Grippy, but not grabby.  Plenty of modulation, and absolute silence from the get-go.  Braking was so good with the Dura-Ace pads that I was able to adjust the brakes to allow for more lever travel while still having plenty of power for panic stops.

Shimano claims that R55C3 pads have twice the wet-weather stopping (and durability) compared to the company’s R55C2 pads.  I wasn’t able to verify that claim, but I can say that the C3 pads performed much better than I expected in wet conditions.  In dry weather, the Dura-Ace pads offered some of the best performance that I’ve experienced to date.

Fresh from a mixed-terrain ride, and no signs of embedded grit or metal.

In my previous experience, I found that Shimano’s stock pads had a tendency to pick up and retain pieces of road grit (and occasionally, the rim material itself).  This lead to poor, noisy braking, and caused accelerated rim wear (and scoring).  I’m pleased to report that the 7900 pads are far more rim-friendly than other Shimano pads I’ve used.  Pad wear has been more noticeable with the Dura-Ace pads, but the increased stopping power and control is well worth it, in my opinion.

Typical late-afternoon weather for early June along the Front Range.

No big deal–just cut off the end cable and start over, right?  Yes and no.  If you look at the end of a new, single-ended cable, you’ll see that the individual strands are fused/welded together during manufacturing.  When you cut a cable–even using quality cutters–you expose the ends of the strands.  While this is normally not an issue, it can make inserting the cable difficult–or worse–cause it to unravel when threading it through the housing.

Factory-cut cable on left. Cable on right was cut post-install.

This is exactly what happened to me when I attempted to install a double-ended derailleur cable.  One end was Shimano/SRAM-compatible, and the other end (which I needed) was compatible with Campagnolo shifters.  I grabbed my trusty cable cutters, lopped off the un-needed end, and proceeded to install the now-compatible cable.  No dice.  The sharpened end of the cable snagged when threaded through the shifter, and after repeated unsuccessful attempts, one strand broke free, causing the cable to unravel.

I could have resorted to using a single-ended cable, but I had purchased several of the double-ended cables (hard to argue with a $1.99 price tag), and was bound and determined to make the them work.  Initially I considered soldering the end of the cable, but as luck would have it, I didn’t have any flux that was compatible with the stainless steel cables.  What I did have, however, was a small bottle of enamel hobby paint.

Inexpensive, and available in a variety of colors.

After cleaning off any remaining oil or grease with rubbing alcohol, I carefully dipped the freshly-cut end of the cable into the bottle of paint.  When the paint had dried completely, I carefully removed any excess with a few swipes of emery cloth.  Threading the paint-sealed cable through the shifter was effortless, with no snags or unraveling.

Since then, I’ve experimented with Super Glue to treat trimmed cable ends.  Super Glue has the advantage that it dries almost instantly, and unlike paint, there’s no need to wait several hours for it to cure.

I recently posted the above photo on one of the popular image sharing sites.  Someone commented that “it’s dangerous to ride such skinny tires” on a trail like that.  Yes, they actually used the d-word.

When I think of bicycling and danger, riding a skinny-tire-equipped bike on dirt roads isn’t the first thing that comes to mind.  No, danger would involve me riding against traffic, after dark, with no lights or reflective gear, all while wearing noise-canceling headphones.  That’s dangerous.

And what about the person who said that I had made the “wrong tire/bike choice for that terrain”?  Wrong?  I always thought that choosing a bike–any bike–was the right choice.

Riding a bicycle shouldn’t be reduced to a problem-solving exercise.  I’m not riding because I want to attain someone else’s concept of perfection.  I’d much rather have fun riding the wrong bike or the wrong tires on supposedly dangerous terrain.

Decided that a three-day weekend was not long enough, so I burned a vacation day to go for a nice, long ride.  I was rewarded with mild temps, light traffic, and no texts, calls, or emails.  I’d say that it was a vacation day well spent.

Life behind bars.

Ritchey’s Logic Curve bars feature a short reach (73mm) and shallow drop (128mm).  I’ve used 2nd- and 3rd-generation Campagnolo Ergopower levers with the Logic Curve bars, and when set up with the ramps flat, the transition to and from the hoods is pretty much seamless.  Moving to the drops is easy thanks to the double-radius profile.

Ritchey offers the Logic Curve in several models and finishes.  All feature a 31.8mm center section, and no-slip grit at the stem and brake lever mounting surfaces.  Widths range from 38cm to 44cm (measured center/center at the levers).  While some riders may bemoan the lack of cable grooves, I find that it allows for more freedom when positioning the levers and routing the cables.

My Classic Logic Curve bars have been in service for three years, and not once have they slipped or creaked.  Despite swapping my Comp Logic Curve bars between between several bikes and stems, they’re as secure and silent as the first time I installed them.  Both pairs bars have seen lots of bumpy, off-road miles, and I’ve been unable to detect any unwanted flex.

If you’re looking for a versatile, short-and-shallow drop bar that’s also comfortable in the drops, do yourself a favor and check out Ritchey Logic Curve line of handlebars.