Results for the Cedar Cross race of Missoury are finally in, and you can see them here:

http://cedarcross.wordpress.com/2012/05/12/cedar-cross-results-and-other-stuff/

I only heard about the Cedar Cross race about 2 weeks before it was to take place.  I won’t go into details about the venue, since there’s much more detailed info about it on the official site:  https://cedarcross.wordpress.com/

What I will get into here is my own experience with the race.  I’ll keep it short, but try to cover the more memorable parts.  Number one: my bike.

Though this was a cyclocross race, mountain bikes were also allowed.  I have my Scrambler built up as a sort of pseudo cross bike right now, but the thought of trying to get through miles of muddy singletrack on very narrow 32c tires wasn’t very appealing.  I also knew there’d be hills, and since that bike has a standard road crank, that’d mean a 39T chainring would be a bear to push up hills.  Sure, my road bike has a 42c small ring (and 11-23 cassette), but I’d be on gravel roads, which means I couldn’t just stand and mash the pedals like I do on my road bike.

So, the mountain bike won out.  It has a shock with a remote lock-out, disc brakes, wider tires, better gearing, and more room for mud.  And speaking of the gearing, my granny chainring is a 20T.  Match that with a 32T cog, and I was able to sit and easily spin up hills that I saw many other people working much harder to get up.

The race started at 9am at the Katy Trail commuter parking lot in what used to be called Cedar City, and is now more or less just part of Jefferson City, next to highways 63 and 54.  I don’t know an official number of racers yet, but around 170 signed up, and at least 120 actually showed up.  We got a quick speech from Bob Jenkins, the sadistic a-hole who set this torture game up for us, where he basically told us we were on our own, and not to hit on his mom.  Finally, a lead vehicle showed us the way down a mile or so of paved road, to where the beginning of seemingly endless gravel roads began.

The beginning of the gravel…

I was on my own–many stayed in teams with riding buddies, but I don’t have any friends dumb enough to do this with me–so my first plan was to find a group of people I could stick with.  Though the group changed many times throughout the race, I didn’t have to put in a whole lot of miles on my own.  My biggest worry was that we’d eventually run into a pack of 4 hateful dogs that we’d been warned many times about, so I figured if we had bigger numbers than the dogs, we’d make it through alright.  As it would end up, by the time my small group got to them, they already seemed too worn out or bored to really put up much of an aggressive front.

Singletrack:

The two sections of singletrack we had were where my bike was supposed to excel over all the cyclocross bikes on the route.  Maybe it did, maybe not.  Considering how many of us ended up having to walk most of the trails, I don’t think the shocks and fatter tires really mattered much here.  The worst part was a section called the stair climb, which was less like stairs, and more like a near-vertical cliff of thick, sticky mud.  We all had to dismount and walk our bikes up this.  All I really remember is I nearly lost a shoe in the mud, some guy everyone called "Turbo" ran right up it like it was nothing, and it basically destroyed my climbing/sprinting muscles–the ones I fall back on to make up time when my legs begin to tire from normal riding.

Inside the national forest that was home to the singletrack, it was humid, temps were in the high-80s already, and there was zero wind.  It was a miserable place to be, and I heard some riders threw up (and perhaps called it quits) because of it.  Fortunately, it made up for only a very small fraction of the overall course, so once you were out of the second section, you knew you were good to go.

Gravel and hills:

Bob purposely set this course up to keep us off of paved roads as much as possible.  As such, you rarely got to just relax and spin your pedals; instead, you were always on the look-out for potholes and tractor tire ruts.  It made drafting behind others difficult and a bit unnerving.  Still, I can deal with gravel.  What I couldn’t deal with were the gravel climbs.  As I mentioned before, I like to stand up and mash a big gear to get up hills.  It’s how I rest one group of muscles while using the other group to make quick work of any size hill.  But if you do that on gravel, you’ll lose traction and spin out.  And we all know how hard it can be to get re-started from a dead stop on an incline.

So, instead, I was forced to stay seated like everyone else, and spin a lower gear.  It meant my ass never got a rest from being in the saddle, and I was never able to distribute the burden between different muscle groups.  My only saving grace was that I put the 20T small chainring back on my bike a few days prior.

Fortunately, every climb led to another descent, so I had time to rest occasionally.  I’d turn off my shock’s remote lock, get up to speed, and just coast over any rut or pothole that got in my way.  In fact, twice I hit 40mph–the fastest I’ve ever gone (or want to go) on gravel.  I heard a few others make the same comment moments after we all made it down safe.

Problems:

Whereas many others ran into plenty of equipment failures (ex.1 ex.2), I had only one:  during the second singletrack section, something apparently grabbed my rear derailer housing on the seat stay, and popped it out of the cable stop.  I didn’t know what happened at the time, but my chain quickly shifted all the way to the other end of my cassette, without the shifter moving in unison.  I adjusted it at the shifter until it sort of worked and continued on, but kept having to re-adjust every few miles.  I finally mentioned it to a guy I was riding with named Matt Grothoff, and he told me the housing looked like it was sitting funny against the frame.  So, on one of the long, never-ending climbs, I got to looking at it between my legs while I pedaled.  Turns out, the housing simply popped out, so I stopped, popped it back in, re-adjusted once more, and never had another problem.

I did see a ton of flat tires, though.  The group I was with near the end had two in the final 20 miles, and there were many others dealing with punctures throughout the race.  I give full credit to my Panaracer Flataway tire liners.

SAG:

My wife volunteered to be my support and gear team, even though I had originally envisioned just doing this alone.  But so long as she wanted to help, I sure wasn’t going to turn it down.  She kept extra food, drinks, supplies, and clothes in her car, and met up with me at 6 different locations throughout the ride.  While others had to depend on drop bags, I knew my stuff would always be there when I arrived.  The best part was being able to change my soaking wet socks after crossing a creek in the first singletrack section.  I’m glad I planned ahead for that.

By the 70mi mark, I had been riding on a seriously cramped right leg–my right quads and hamstring simultaneously cramped up on a hill climb at the 50mi mark, so badly I let out a scream and had to rest for 5 minutes–and was beginning to feel sick from over heating.  After getting refills on my water and Gatorade, I sat in the car with the A/C cranked for 5 minutes.  It gave me just enough of a refresh to feel like I could make it another 43 miles.

It was also at this stop that many racers chose to get a bite to eat inside a convenience store.  Riders who got there way before I did were still sitting around, eating sandwiches and chilling out, when I decided it was best to keep my stay short and get back on the road.  As it would turn out, no riders successfully passed me for the rest of the ride (and by successfully, I mean pass and then keep in front; I did have a couple pass me on two different occasions when I stopped with my group during flat tire repairs, but we passed them again minutes later both times).  Also, for a time being, the temperature seemed to drop by about 10°.

Final 40 miles:

The final 40 miles were the worst, not because they were difficult–because they weren’t really; it was cooler and we were done with hills–but because it just didn’t seem like it’d ever end.  Fortunately, after I left the convenience store at mile 70, I met up with a group of 3, and we more or less stayed together until the end.  I think we knew we’d all be faster together than alone, and I guess we were right.

The final descent was from the nuclear power plant south of Fulton, MO, back down to the Katy Trail, where we never had to deal with another hill.  We had about 10 miles of relatively smooth Katy Trail, then got off onto some of the worst gravel roads of the whole course.  They were so bad, we saw another guy get double flat tires, which put him (a faster rider, it seemed) far behind us.  Eventually, it led back to the Katy, then back onto more gravel roads, which finally turned to pavement near the end.  On the final corner, 3 of the 4 sprinted to the finish line.  Bob was there to throw beer in our faces as we crossed.

In all, it was over 113 miles, took close to 10 hours to complete (including refill and rest times), and left me pretty sore for the next 24 hours.  I hear there are rumors it’ll be held again next year.

Other observations:

I was really impressed with how well the race was put together.  Bob Jenkins not only put in a ton of his own time clearing the singletrack, mapping the route, getting sponsors, etc., he also dumped his own money into this race, then made it free to join.  Then, any money dontated by the racers was given to a local no-kill animal shelter.

I saw far more singlespeeds at this race than I ever would have guessed.  You can always assume you’ll see a couple guys on them, but there were almost too many to keep track of.  Considering the number of hills, the size of the hills, and the overall distance, I was impressed by everyone who committed to riding one.  I was very happy with all 27 speeds on my own bike, though.

My whole ride, all I wanted more than anything were drop bars.  I feel so much more comfortable riding in drops, and have an easier time climbing and putting down power overall.  If I ever do something this crazy again, I think I’ll find a way to put them on my MTB and just ditch the flat bar forever.

I ordered a saddle a few days prior to the race–a used, but excellent condition San Selle Marco Aspide on eBay–that I knew would be comfortable for the length of this race.  Unfortunately, it was shipped UPS, and arrived a day after the race.  I should have specified USPS, and maybe it would have shown up on Saturday instead.  As it turned out, my Selle Italia SLR TT tore me up.  Lesson learned:  order parts further in advance.

No matter how much liquid you think you’ll need, always take more.  I had one particular hour before I met my wife for the first re-fueling, where I really wish I’d taken a Gatorade with me.  I still had enough water (barely), but that Gatorade would have been awesome.  I also noticed plenty of other riders running out of water, and heard some made it to a drop point late enough that even the truck at the drop point had run out.  I even offered to fill one guy’s bottles with water from our car, and he only took enough to fill one, not both.  Stupid.  On a day like that, it can really mean life or death, or even just finishing or having to drop out.

There was a couple there from Texas on a tandem Calfee bamboo bike.  I lost track of them before the first singletrack, and really wanted to know if they finished, and how well they did.

And finally, if you take GoPro cameras with you on a ride with a group that big, there will be plenty of people trying to get camera time.

Remember awhile back when I converted my EighthInch Scrambler V2 frame from a singlespeed to a 2-speed?  Well, I decided I still wasn’t done with it.

When I was in the middle of the conversion, I discovered another guy who converted his Scrambler V2, as well, only he basically did the opposite:  he stuck with a single chainring, but scrammed a 10sp cassette in the rear.

(some other guy’s Scrambler conversion)

I figured, since I already had the rear shifter (it came with the front as a set, and I never sold it like I’d planned to), all I really needed was a rear derailer and a wheel with a proper road hub.  Well, that, plus I needed to widen the rear triangle to fit a 130mm hub.  Using a combination of the homemade frame spreader tool (see previous post), along with Sheldon Brown’s 2×4 method, I was able to cold set the frame to 126mm, up from 120mm.  I’m now able to squeeze in a road hub, or add a couple 2mm spacers to either side of my SS hub, and go either direction.

As usual, I wanted to do it right, so I bought a second STI cable stop for the downtube, and a regular cable stop of the chainstay, drilled 1/8" holes in the frame, and riveted them on.

I’m happy to say it all worked out as planned.  The one thing I’d been worried about was the tight clearance between the small chainring and the chainstay, which was already just 3mm before I widened it.  However, after I was finished, it still remained more or less the same, so no worries there.  I swapped the Paul Components Melvin chain tensioner for a used SRAM Force rear derailer I found on eBay, re-using the DMR chain tug with it’s built-in derailer hanger.

With it complete, I can run just about any combo of gears I want: singlespeed, 2-speed, fixed, or 2×10.  I also have the option of running skinny road tires, or cramming in my Kenda 32c knobby cyclocross tires.  The cassette is a 12-28, to make off-road climbing a little easier while staying seated.

I just pieced together this invaluable tool for about $5.  If you know what it is, you may know what I’m up to.

More to come in a few weeks…

I know I’m a little late, seeing as the 8th anniversary of Pantani’s death was on Valentine’s Day, but I still wanted to post a photo of his incredible Bianchi TT bike.  He was a climbing specialist who liked to stay low in the drops, and I don’t think you can get much lower than these bullhorns.  Too bad I never got a chance to see his race this bike.

R.I.P.

I can’t say I approve of the Aerspokes, but this is an interesting take on a 2-tone color scheme.

Via Reddit

This is about the coolest thing I’ve ever stumbled upon.  According to Bike Works NYC, this custom chainring was made by a Japanese cyclist.  It consists of "Stronglight 49 crankarms with spoked-wheel spider armature, made of thin spokes (1.2mm diameter), with 51- and 45-tooth Simplex chainrings, on a custom Toei bike."

Unfortunately, that’s all the information I can find on it.  If you look closely, it’s not just one ring, but a pair that are bolted together.  What I can’t tell is, whether both rings share the same spokes (which would mean they couldn’t easily be taken apart), or if they are two entirely separate pieces that are bolted together after they’re laced.

Either way, it’s one of the most unique pieces I’ve ever seen, and I wouldn’t mind trying to build one someday myself.  Anyone have a CNC machine I can borrow?

Wow, I’ve been slacking quite a bit lately; not on the bike, but on my blog.  So, here’s what Ive been up to since my last post:

–  I finished off 2011 with 3,475mi, which is quite a bit less than I did in 2010.  Last winter was a wet one, and by the time March rolled around, I was already hundreds of miles in the hole compared to the year before.  Still, it wasn’t a terrible year, and I had fun building up two bikes and 3 new wheelsets.

–  I made some updates to my Scrambler Dinglespeed conversion, most notably different gearing and the addition of cross levers.

Over the coldest months (which weren’t too bad this year, thankfully), I kept running into issues with my chain skipping, and I began to think it was the 10-speed chain slipping on the Paul Comp. Melvin tensioner.  After a lot of frustration–including buying a 9-speed chain and the problem not going away–I finally discovered the culprit was my cheap-ass 18T freewheel.  What was happening was, the cold weather was causing the grease inside the freewheel to thicken, and not allowing the pawls to engage properly.  It’s apparently a very common problem with cheap freewheels.  So, I bit the bullet and finally purchased a White Industries freewheel.  Problem solved!

I mounted the cross levers after having a few incidences of feeling like I was about to go over the bar while braking on steep off-road descents.  Unfortunately, the cables coming out of the back of the levers continued to hit each other, so I ended up swapping from a 38cm to 42cm bar.  With the freewheel and brakes worked out, I can finally ride the bike without having to think about it anymore.

–  I finished off 2011 the same way I did 2010, with a metric century on New Year’s Eve day.  Only, this time around I did it in St. Louis for a change of scenery.  I hope to make it a yearly tradition, but that will be determined by the weather.

–  I bought my wife a Fuji Absolute 2.0 hybrid in February, so now she has something more appropriate than a mountain bike to take on road rides.

That photo was taken before I put on a Selle San Marco Aspide Glamour Tri saddle, cut the steerer tube, and made a few other small modifications.  I’m pretty impressed with the bike overall, especially considering the price.  Thanks to my weight weenie disease, it’s already lost over 2lbs since we got it, and I’ll get rid of more excess weight as time goes on.  The 32-spoke wheels are first on my agenda.

–  Due to the unseasonably warm weather–the nicest winter I’ve ever experienced living in the mid-West–I’ve been getting in a lot of miles so far this year.  I hit an even 400mi for February, which nearly doubles my old record back in 2010.  I finished up with a 65mi ride on Leap Day, fighting a 35mph wind the entire time, with gusts well above 40mph.  But, it beat spending the day at work, so I can’t complain.

That’s about it for now.  I’ll try to get some reviews up as soon as I can, so check back.

Genius.

Via Craigslist.org

In the process of modifying my Scrambler frame with cable stops, I ran into a problem:  how to rivet the stops in place.  Seems easy enough on the surface, but what I soon found was it’s impossible to get a rivet gun flat against the rivet heads.  In case anyone else has run into the same problem, I thought I’d share my method.

First, let’s do the brake cable stops.  Whether you’re going with standard ones, or the type that hold hydraulic brake lines, it’s pretty simple.  Drill a couple 1/8" holes where you want the stops.  Be very accurate with your measurements before you drill.  If the holes aren’t lined up with the holes on the stop, you’ve more or less just ruined your frame.  In fact, if you’re even off by a fraction of a millimeter, the rivets may go in, but end up a little crooked, and look like crap.  Use a center punch so the drill bit doesn’t walk, and drill a smaller pilot hole first.  I’d also suggest using aluminum rivets, since they’re lighter, don’t rust, and require less force to rivet than steel.

You’ll need rivets 3mm x 3mm in size, and they’re easy to find at any hardware store for about $5 for 100 of them.

Okay, here’s the problem you’re going to have:  once the holes are drilled, and the stops are zip tied in place, you’re going to realize there’s no way to place the head of the rivet gun flat against the head of the rivet because it’s in a recessed area.

Here’s the solution:  go to a hardware store, like Ace Hardware, etc, and buy a couple aluminum spacers 1/2" long and 1/4" diameter.  One of them will need to be cut down to about 9mm long for a standard cable stop.  Use a fine tooth hacksaw blade and a vise to cut it, but save both pieces.  Also, be sure to compensate for blade thickness, because you really need it to be 9mm long so that it clears the stop, but allows enough of the rivet pin to stick through so the gun can grab it.

Now, put the rivet in place through the stop and frame, and slide the 9mm spacer down the rivet pin.  It will rest against the rivet head, and give the rivet gun’s head something to push against.  A couple squeezes of the gun handle, and the pin should break as the rivet permanently clamps the to objects together.

(Tip:  wrap electrical tape around the entire area, because once the pin breaks, the gun may fly forward and ding the frame or scratch your paint.)

The brake cable stops were the easy part, but the STI stop will take a little more effort.  For the record, I didn’t come up with this idea.  I racked my brain for days trying to figure out how I’d get the STI stop riveted on, since putting enough spacers in place for the gun to clear the stop, meant there wasn’t enough pin exposed for the gun to grab onto.  I mentioned it to a guy I know, and he came up with an idea that saved my day:  pull the pin out of a longer rivet, and use it in the shorter one.  I had no idea the pin could be removed, but it can…

I headed back to Lowes, and bough a box of 3mm x 1/2" rivets, since that was the longest they had in 3mm diameter.  If you can find something longer, go for it, but 1/2" gets the job done.

Next, it’s time to do some pin swapping.  Unlike steel rivets, where the pin easily slips out by hand, it’s in there a lot tighter in an aluminum rivet.  I ended up using an adjustable wrench–wrapped around the rivet, just under the head–to press the rivet off the pin, against a hard tile.

This first photo shows how the pins are the same length above the heads, but it’s much longer under the head on the 1/2" rivet.

With the rivets pulled off the pins, you get an idea how much longer one is than the other.

Next, do the swap, again using an adjustable wrench to force the pin onto the rivet.

Now, it’s time to add some spacers.  Remember that piece I told you to hold onto from the cut spacer?  Well, slip it, and the uncut 1/2" spacer onto the rivet pin, and you have enough to clear the taller STI stop, with enough exposed pin for the rivet gun to grab onto.

You can discard the leftover 1/2" rivet and shorter pin.  When you’re all done, you should have something like this:

One other thing I’ll add is, if you’re doing this to a steel frame, put a tiny bit of grease around the edges of the holes you drilled in the frame, and between the frame and the stop.  It’ll work as a water-tight barrier to help prevent rust.  That’s a little bit of grease being squeezed out near the upper rivet in my photo, so I know I have a good seal.

Links:

Standard aluminum brake cable stop (also in black)
STI derailer cable stop
Standard rivet gun