Getting New Gears -- Tongsheng TSDZ2 mid-drive conversion kit

When we are young, time is our friend. We grow taller, we get stronger, we learn how to prosper. But eventually -- for everyone -- time becomes a determined and implacable foe. Sadly, that bad old dude has now turned against me.

Back in 2011 I wrote about my experiences with supraventricular tachycardia, an arrhythmia of the heart that is especially common among endurance athletes. I first learned that I had it in 2004 so I've now had eighteen good years of continuous fitness. But now the SVT has become atrial fibrillation. Fortunately, it is almost entirely asymptomatic, except that my heart-rate does tend to spike high enough during exercise that I get a little frightened. 

When times change, it's necessary to change with the times. Almost the first thing I did when I noticed this fibrillation is order an e-bike conversion kit. Scaling back on biking is possible; quitting is not!

Shopping for e-bikes is a blast, and I've actually been attracted to them for a number of years. The latest road e-bikes by Cannondale, Trek, and Specialized are wonders. They let you ride an e-bike that is so beautifully designed nobody can even tell it is an e-bike. But they are costly and so intricately manufactured that repairs must be a nightmare. I've spent enough years working on my own bikes that I really appreciate having them easy to fix.

When both performance and ease of repair are the top priorities, a mid-drive e-bike conversion kit becomes the obvious choice. At the moment Bafang and Tongsheng are the key players in this segment of the market. The Bafang kits have a little more power and begin to resemble electric motorcycles at times. The Tongsheng kit has a peddle-assist technology that makes riding the electric bike quite like riding a regular bike -- albeit with bionic legs.

Here is a photo of the Tongsheng TSDZ2 mid-drive conversion kit that I bought:

You can see the very hefty (and ugly) battery on the left, then the motor and computer display, then the cranks and speed sensor (along with a few parts I did not use).

Now here is a photo of the full installation on my gravel bike:

Except for the bulky battery, the bike looks about the same as always. And I'm not going to complain about that battery. So far, I have ridden over 40 miles and the charge indicator has only now started to drop. I'm hoping to see if it will go 100 miles before re-charging. If so, I'll be impressed and amazed.

What's it like to ride this e-bike? It's fun. The bike feels almost the same, but the multiple levels of power assist help me up the hills. I'm still getting some decent exercise, but I'm reassured to have "turbo mode" waiting in the wings in case my heart hits overload.

I'll conclude with a few links to YouTube videos that I found useful:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPwxwLKfDSw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wThQH5Iy9uQ&list=WL&index=62

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7ve958hJXE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cK1Cx2CcNSA

https://youtu.be/0egW8O1MOV4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RlMZTA36elQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nRYwzLWfvXc

 

Update 2/12/22: I've now ridden my e-bike about 200 miles and have a few preliminary thoughts. (1) The power assist is very smooth. In Eco mode I get just enough help to cruise on relatively flat roads and up hills of 10% or so. In Tour mode I feel as if I have bionic legs, but I'm still clearly riding a bike and getting good exercise. I rarely use Speed mode and Turbo (mostly because I am out there to get some exercise and not to go fast), but Speed mode reaches the kinds of speeds that I used to achieve during a hard time trial and does so with the same amount of work as in Eco mode. Turbo mode is just what it implies -- a nice rush of speed and excitement with relatively little effort. (2) Using the E-bike has forced me to change some of my basic cycling habits. Because the pedal-assist is triggered by pressure on the pedals, I've had to develop a slower, smoother cadence -- and I have to remain seated all the time. The second point is a huge change for me. I was a climber and loved to stand on the pedals while stomping up steep hills. Now I need to remain seated, shift into a gear that keeps my cadence down, and let the motor pull me up. I'm still working harder than on the flats, but I can keep my heart-rate under 160! (3) The honking big battery on my bike is heavy (8.5 pounds) but the total weight of the e-bike (41 pounds) is still ten pounds less than the weight of similar Trek bikes. I've gone more than 70 miles on a single charge and still had plenty of charge left for another 30 miles or so. (4) I can easily remove the battery to put the bike in the back of the car or to use the bike as a normal ride.

My Bike of Broken Pieces

I've been rough on bike frames lately. Every cyclist occasionally "drops the chain." This happens as one is shifting in or out of the chain-rings. If the chain drops to the inside, it's rarely much of a problem except that the cyclist has to stop, put the chain back on, and wipe his greasy hands on some inconspicuous part (usually the butt) of his black cycling shorts. If the cyclist drops the chain to the outside, it's usually even less of a problem. Shifting down -- from the 50-tooth ring back down to the 34 -- and slowly turning the pedals almost always succeeds in "pedaling the chain back on." It's a trick all avid cyclists learn.

But it doesn't always work. In some cases the chain gets wrapped around or snagged in the rear cassette and trying to pedal it back on can result in a broken derailleur hanger. No big deal, right? Replaceable derailleur hangers are designed to break so that other parts of the bike (the frame, the rear mech, etc.) are protected. But things don't always go as intended. Three times in the past couple of years, I have broken my hanger and had to replace a variety of other parts. The last time, my chain got so tangled in the rear cassette that the wheel locked up at 20 mph, sending me into a long skid down the blacktop. Fortunately I kept the bike up, but I later measured the skid mark at over 20 feet!

That lock-up caused a broken derailleur hanger, seriously bent front and rear mechs, a chain bent in multiple places, and a cracked seat-stay on my carbon CR4. My initial reaction to all that damage was to declare the frame a total loss and to use the salvageable parts (shifters, handlebars, brakes, pedals, bar tape) to upgrade the components on my ancient Giant OCR3 (22 pounds when new in 2001, 20.5 after the upgrades).

With all the parts stripped from my CR4 crankset-frame-and-fork, I was able to appreciate how incredibly light it was. And I got to thinking. I've been making stuff with fiberglass for over 40 years -- most recently my CLC Shearwater Sport Sectional and my Northeaster Dory. How different could it be to repair a fairly trivial crack in a carbon fiber frame-set. The seat-stay was still very stiff. Wrapping it with a couple layers of carbon fiber cloth and soaking that cloth with epoxy resin should make that seat-stay as strong as new. I spent $30 on Amazon and got a small roll of carbon fiber cloth and and some small bottles of resin and hardener.

The epoxy repair went very well. I could have done a lot of sanding and some additional epoxy work to make the repair look pretty, but the sanding would have weakened the area by cutting into some of the carbon fiber, and the additional epoxy would have added weight with no increase in strength. So my repair looks like a repair. Big deal!

Here is a picture of the cracked area before the repair:

To begin riding the bike again, I needed to replace multiple links on the bent chain, throw away a badly bent front derailleur, straighten the bent rear derailleur cage, piece together some bar tape, and salvage a pair of old SPD pedals. The pedals should look like this:

But the bolt holding on the spring mechanism of one pedal had snapped.  Even though I couldn't figure out a way to repair the pedal, I thought it just might work without the rear portion, functioning like an old-fashioned toe-clip. 

Sliding the tip of the cleat under the metal toe-retainer should hold one's foot in position fairly well, as long as the force of the pedal stroke is forward and down. Sad fact is, I'm not a sprinter and I generally don't pull up on my pedals.

So I built the bike up.

Because there is no front derailleur, it's a 10-speed bike with a 34-tooth chain-ring and an 11x28 cassette. How big a deal is it to have only a 34 up front? In hill country it's not a big deal at all. At a cadence of 90 rpm, the bike will go about 21.8 mph on flat ground. But 20 mph is the fastest time trial speed I've ever been able to maintain. I'm sure I'd like a 50-tooth chain-ring if I spent a lot of time "sucking wheel" on group rides. I don't.  I almost always ride alone or side-by-side with a single friend. I really don't like holding the wheel and staring at someone else's butt for long periods of time! When the road slopes downhill, I now stop pedaling and get into an aero tuck; the bike accelerates to nearly the same speed I could maintain by pedaling in the 50-tooth chain-ring.

So here are my three conclusions from this experimental effort:

1. A modern road bike can be changed to a 10-speed with almost no loss in its capability. In fact, the single chain-ring means lighter weight, greater simplicity, and more reliability. Dropping a chain is now almost impossible, as is breaking a derailleur hanger. Fussy front derailleur adjustments are a thing of the past.

2. Carbon fiber frames can be repaired easily -- at least if the cracks are minor and the frame is still intact and strong. Even so, I would not attempt to repair a cracked fork; if that repair failed, the crash would send me sailing into a forward endo.

3. Modern clipless pedals should be adjusted so that they release very easily. Hardly anyone pulls up hard on the pedals. There is no need for those embarrassing falls when one can't unclip quickly enough to put a foot on the ground. 

Update 5/31/202: With a couple of minor changes, my bike of broken parts has once again become my main ride. First, I put on a different set of clipless pedals to improve my connection to the bike. But I do have the springs on the pedals adjusted so that they release very easily. Second, I replaced the 34-tooth chainring with a 39-tooth ring. This will allow me to crank it up to 25 mph on the flats. I'm also using the superlight American Classic Sprint 350 front wheel that originally came with my Motobecane Le Champion SL. If I remove the unnecessary 50-tooth chainring, I'll save another ounce or two on what now seems to me to be a very sweet setup!

RIP Nashbar Carbon CR4

Just over four years ago I wrote a glowing review of my then-new Nashbar CR4 carbon road bike. It has been a very good bike, but after 13,606 miles I am putting it on the shelf. I still stand by the statements I made about the bike in that review, but I can now add that the frame has one fatal flaw -- a flaw that, sadly, might be quite common on newer road bikes.

The CR4 has a "replaceable" derailleur hanger. And that part is made out of light-weight aluminum. I am not a powerhouse sprinter by any means, yet I have broken that hanger three times. One time there was little damage -- just the cost of replacing the hanger. The next time it broke when I was pedaling up a hill and the force of the pedal stroke bent the rear derailleur. The third time I was cruising downhill at more than 20 mph. The hanger broke. The rear derailleur swung down into my spokes. And I was left with a broken derailleur hanger, a wrecked derailleur, four broken spokes on my rear wheel, and (perhaps) a broken chain stay on the carbon frame! All this -- plus coming close to a very dangerous crash -- because the bike is specced with an aluminum derailleur hanger! Please! I understand that a broken hanger might be better than a broken frame, but in this case the broken hanger probably caused the broken frame as well as considerable additional damage.

Not all innovations are improvements. Give me a strong derailleur hanger. Maybe something steel!

On Muscles

Your body hates muscles.

All it takes is a minor bicycle crrrrrrash to convince a person of that. Even before you get off the ground, your body has set your muscles to screaming like a bunch of schoolgirls in a Haunted House. And then for weeks afterwards you have to keep a sharp eye on things. While you're drifting in a warm wash of pain pills, your body is slicing out one muscle after another and sending it to the glue factory.

You may never be quite the same.

My Advice

My Mother, Cycling at age 91

My Advice

Keep yourself healthy,

Keep yourself happy,

And follow the Golden Rule.

Keep in mind you might die tomorrow;

Plan as though you will live a century.

Motobecane Fantom Cross Trail Bike Review

Despite the hype, a bicycle is just a bundle of components. If the bundle is well-chosen, the bike will be great. If not, no need to despair. Every component can be replaced and in time almost all of them will be.

My newest bike is the 2017 Motobecane Fantom Cross Trail, which costs $599. At that price I did not expect the lightest cross bike, nor did I expect top-of-the-line components. What I was hoping for was a lovely bike capable of handling good gravel roads as well as having decent speed on smooth pavement. Here is a review of the various components on the bike and then my overall assessment.

The Frame: Reviewers often seem to see the frame as the defining component of a bicycle. In the past I’ve resisted that notion, but I have to admit that I am pleased with the Fantom Cross Trail frame. I like the traditional look and geometry. Many competing bikes have a sloping top tube so that only three frame sizes can fit a large variety of riders. The Cross Trail comes in six different frame sizes, and perhaps that leads to slightly better performance. I’m 6’2” tall and the 61 cm frame was easy for me to set up to match my crucial measurements on my road bikes (a Motobecane Le Champion SL and a Nashbar CR4). But there are significant differences in frame geometry. The Fantom Cross is not trying to save weight so it can have a more relaxed head tube angle with a longer wheelbase and a bit more metal in the double diamond. This means that the bike descends more stably and can be ridden “no-hands” more easily. It feels stable and secure in situations where my race bikes feel twitchy and high-strung. I like it! It’s a nice plus that the frame can be fitted with fenders and racks for touring.

The Fork: I’m sure the carbon fork also has some impact on how the bike handles. But I’m not able to differentiate one fork from another. This one looks sturdy (appropriate for a trail bike) and not as aero as the one on my Motobecane race bike.

The Crankset and Cassette: The bike is specced with a triple (50-39-30) combined with an 8-speed (11-32) cassette. One’s first thought is that this is low-end compared to more expensive bikes that come with a double (often 46-36) and an 11-speed cassette (11-32). I think the “low-end” specifications are better. The Cross Trail has three chainrings and eight cassette cogsets -- a total of eleven metal disks. A pro-level cross bike typically has two chainrings coupled with eleven cogsets -- thirteen metal disks. So the pro bike has more complexity and potentially more weight. Yet it has a smaller range of gearing. My Fantom ranges from 50-11 for flat pavement to 30-32 for steep gravel climbs. The pro bike can only attain 46-11 and 36-32; thus, it has neither the top-end speed nor the low-end power. And, frankly, I want my cross bike to be speedy on pavement and still allow seated climbs on steep gravel. I love to climb out of the saddle on my race bikes, but if I try that on gravel, my rear wheel will slip and spin-out. I need to stay seated to keep enough weight on the rear wheel.

Derailleurs and Shifters: The Phantom Cross has a mix of Shimano Claris and Sora components. These are “entry-level” components, but they work as well as the Ultegra components on my race bikes. A more expensive groupset would cut at least a pound from the bike’s total weight, but this is an all-terrain machine and definitely not a race bike. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the visual gear indicators on top of the hoods -- a useful little touch.

Wheelset: The tubeless-ready WTB i19 wheelset is one of the better components on the bike. The wheels are reputed to be strong, light, and durable.

Tires: Continental Cyclocross Race Wire, 700x35C 84TPI x 3-Ply. These are great tires for my purposes. Despite the relatively narrow width, they seem secure on good gravel. Despite the off-road tread pattern, they roll smoothly on pavement. With my weight (about 150) I can keep the tire pressure low (35-40 lbs). That increases the contact patch and softens the ride on gravel, but it is still firm enough to avoid pinch flats. The forks will hold 40 mm tires easily and perhaps those are a better option for loose gravel or mountain bike trails.

Brakes: This is the first bike I’ve ever had with disk brakes (Tektro Lyra mechanicals). I found them very difficult to set up and get into adjustment. But they work well and now seem to retain adjustment adequately. I guess I’d prefer the simplicity of rim brakes since I’ll never be riding in the wet and muddy conditions where disk brakes are greatly superior. The top-bar brake levers are a nice feature, I prefer a fairly aero position on the hoods and a stretched-out position in the drops, so it's nice to be able to occasionally sit up and still have access to the brakes. These top levers also have convenient brake adjustment knobs.

Seatpost and Saddle: Clearly, these are not lightweight components, but the saddle is comfortable.

Handlebar tape: The bike comes with a fairly thin layer of handlebar tape. I added a cushioning layer (made of old inner tubes) as my very first component upgrade. Cushiony tape is one of the most important comfort features on any bike and is easy to upgrade.

Summary: I’m pleased and very pleasantly surprised. I expected the bike to weigh more than my road bikes and it does. It comes in at 24.5 lbs -- a good 7 lbs more than my road bikes. If I were interested in gravel races, I could quickly cut 3 lbs in weight by replacing the pedals, the seatpost, and the saddle while also switching to tubeless tires. But I’m actually climbing quite well on it as is. The times I’ve registered on my Strava segments are among the fastest 25% for the year. I’m confident that on the flats it can hold its own with a road bike. And when the road slopes down, I have so much more confidence in the bike that I’m almost certainly going faster. So, the Fantom Cross Trail lets me ride right from my door, nearly doubles the miles of surface I can ride in my area, and scarcely impacts my top speeds. What’s not to like? Oh, and it didn't cost much either!

Update -- 6/5/2018: I've now put over 900 miles on the bike and it continues to be a pleasure to ride. I've actually made the bike 3 pounds heavier by changing to heavier "multi-use mountain pedals" (flat one side, clipless the other). I'm also carrying a spare tube and an assortment of tools. So when I'm out for a ride, it should feel like a porky 27.5-pound behemoth. But in all honesty it isn't much different in feel than riding my 17.5-pound race bike. Strava gives me lots of precise data for comparison, and here is the gist of it: during a 1.2-mile climb (4% average), my most recent time on the Fantom was 7:34, while my fastest time-trial on the race bike in the past two years came in at 7:04. Similarly, for a 3-mile segment (with 2% ave grade), the respective times were 15:03 and 13:44. Those differences are significant, indicating that the lighter bike is 7 or 8% faster -- but that's comparing an ordinary ride on the Fantom with a hard time-trial pace on the racing bike. The numbers for a more typical ride on the light bike suggest it could be as little as 1 - 3% faster. That's not much of a sacrifice in speed for a bike that is more secure going downhill and a pleasure to ride on good gravel.

Update -- 6/8/2018: I decided to test the Fantom Cross by doing a time-trial on pavement. My normal TT route is 31.2 miles, but this morning was a bit too warm and humid to make that an option (75 degrees with 85% relative humidity). I cut the TT in half and averaged 16.13 mph over 15.6 miles. That's a pace that would give me a shot at achieving a 16 mph average for the full time trial, and I have always consider that to be a decent achievement. This reinforces my general opinion that, while the Fantom Cross is a little slower than my race bikes, it is still a fast, fun ride!

Update -- 10/31/2018:  It comes as a bit of a surprise to me, but the Fantom Cross Trial has become my main training bike of the past year.  I currently use 35 mm tubeless city/trail tires on the bike to reduce noise on pavement, but that means I must negotiate some patches of loose gravel with care. Still, it is a solid, fast bike to ride on the road. It's a blast going downhill, fast on the flats, and only a bit of an additional struggle on the climbs. I find that training on the heavier bike does give me a little extra strength when I switch to my race bike for faster rides with friends.

Update -- 8/5/2019: I now have over 3600 miles on the bike. The only repair to date has been to the front wheel bearings. Instead of the newer sealed bearings, this bike has steel ball bearings that need occasional grease and adjustment -- a very minor maintenance issue. . . . The disk brakes make it possible to use 26" wheels but I don't think I could get anything more than a 1.75" tire to fit. That's not much more than the 40 mm (1.6") tires I'm now using.

Update -- 5/11/2020: I've put over 4700 miles on the bike and have now made my first major changes.  As you can tell from my review, I was not been a big fan of the Tektro mechanical disk brakes. I find them difficult to adjust, but my last ride on the bike convinced me to replace them entirely. My route took me down a long gravel road and through about 6" of water on my way to Bennett's River. Disk brakes are supposed to shed water well, but my braking was much impaired for the entire 15-mile ride back home. Perhaps there was some contaminant in the creek water, but my brakes could scarcely slow the bike at all . . . and couldn't bring it to a stop even on gradual downhills. That was the final straw. I came home and immediately ordered a set of Tektro Long Arm Caliper Brakes. I use caliper brakes on my road bikes and like them. More to the point, I trust them! They are not great in the rain, but they do work! The new brakes came today. It was a fairly easy job to remove the disk brakes and install the caliper brakes -- though I did need to drill out the holes for the fenders in order to fit the brake bolts. But that worked and so do the new brakes! Big improvement.

Just as disk brakes are an over-hyped new gimmick, so too are tubeless tires. I devoted time and energy into installing a tubeless set-up for my tires. Again, the whole procedure is a finicky pain-in-the-ass. The stars have to align perfectly in the heavens for a tire to seat perfectly and seal completely. Sometimes the rubbery goo bubbles from the rims or spoke holes for weeks. It can even leak sealant through the sidewalls! Sometimes the danged thing never seals. When it does, fine; it's just as good as a tire with an inner tube. For about six months you might be able to trust the tire to self-seal small leaks, but you still have to carry a spare inner tube in case it does not. And if you ever have to use that inner tube, it is the devil's own torment to try to remove the valve that has probably been "glued" in place by the tubeless goo. You'll scrape your fingertips raw and still have to call your wife for a ride home! . . . I've gone back to ordinary inner tubes, but I did temporarily remove the valve cores and add a couple of ounces of tubeless sealant. This gives me flat protection and easy installation -- albeit with a slight weight penalty.

A Year on the Road -- Looking Back and Motivating to go Forward

Selfie just after completing 5,000 miles

At the end of a year it can be useful and satisfying to take a look back. Road biking is my fitness activity and my principal recreation. In the past year I . . .

• rode 5,116 miles (my most ever) 
• rode 343 hours ( an average of almost an hour a day)
• climbed 341,341 feet (about 1,000 feet of climbing an hour)

The only other time I have completed 5,000 miles in a year was way back in 2005, when I was newly retired and eager for the good life.

Distance is one measure I use to judge myself in cycling, but time trials are more meaningful. My time trial route in Hand Cove covers 31.2 hilly miles, including the slog up Woods Point and the savage little Cemetery Hill. I consider anything over 16 mph a decent time trial and anything over 17 mph to merit a two-beer lunch. I managed to grind out ten rides in the 16-17 mph range and 7 rides worthy of a two-beer celebration. I averaged 17.8 mph during my fastest time trial of the year. These are good numbers, but not great. In 2009, for example, I had twenty-three time trials averaging over 17 mph and during three of those I averaged over 18 mph. It may be that I'm getting old, but I prefer to believe that I was concentrating on distance this past year. In 2009 my year-end total was just 4,400 miles (about 15% fewer than this year).

Strava allows one to keep track of times on various segments of a route (usually climbs), and 2014 -- not 2015 -- was my big year for setting personal records on the climbs in my area. Still, this past year was not without accomplishments. I logged my third-fastest time up Cemetery Hill (3/20), my third-fastest time up Hand Cove Landing (3/20), and my second-fastest time up Woods Point (12/19). Given how often I climb those hills, anything close to a personal record is a source of smug satisfaction. My longest climb of the year was the 3.1 mile heart-stopper to the top of Bearwallow Mountain south of Asheville, NC. That was definitely a challenge, but nothing like the the 16.7 miles (3,527 vertical feet) of the climb from Mineral Store to Lassen Peak in 2013.

My greatest personal achievement of the year, however, was in finally working up the courage to ride all the way around Norfork Lake. This was a solo ride of 102 miles with 7,900 feet of climbing.

Map and profile of RAN (Ride Around Norfork)

That ride took me 8 hours (7 hours, 10 minutes of moving time) and traversed some of the loveliest blacktop in the area.

In the Jeep at sunrise on the way to start RAN

Matney Mountain

Quarry Landing on Norfork Lake

Nobody ever knows what the new year will bring, but I'd certainly be satisfied if in my cycling it is a rerun of 2015. But I may need a little motivation, so I'll conclude with a few quotes to keep me going:

• "Strength does not come from physical capacity, it comes from an indomitable will." -Gandhi
• "Fitness is not about being better than someone else, it's about being better than you used to be."
• "Never give up on a dream just because of the time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway." -Earl Nightingale
• "Nothing is impossible. The word itself says, 'I'm possible!' " -Audrey Hepburn
• "Things work out the best for those who make the best of how things work out." -John Wooden
• "Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving." -Albert Einstein

Review of the Nashbar CR4 Carbon Road Bike

Since 2004 I have ridden a Motobecane Le Champion SL. At one time it was said to be the lightest production bike on the market, tipping the scale in my size (61 cm) at about 16.5 pounds with pedals. I've logged well over 40,000 miles on it in the past decade. I've replaced the bottom bracket, the wheels, and a number of cables and cassettes, but all the components are ageing.

When the Nashbar CR4 became available at about the same price I paid ten years ago for the Motobecane, I couldn't resist. Here was a chance to try a carbon frame for the price of the components that I would eventually be replacing on my current frame anyway. Then, too, I like the no-nonsense, stealth black design of the CR4. If companies want to advertise on my bike, they should pay me for wearing their labels.

My new CR4 arrived a month ago and I've had a chance to build it up and put about 500 miles on it. My initial intention was to wait for a torque wrench from Amazon before giving all of the bolts a final tightening and taking the bike on the road--but you know how that goes. I tightened stuff as I normally do and everything has been fine . . . but I do recommend using the torque wrench to avoid over-tightening and cracking the carbon.

I'm 6'2" and bought a size 56 cm frame (the largest). I was able to set up the bike so that it fits me perfectly with all of the measurements closely matching those on my current rig, but the frame might be too small for taller riders. The bike weighs about 17 to pounds without pedals so it is a little heavier than my Motobecane. That minor weight difference is explained by the slightly heavier wheelset and  seatpost. Once I swapped out the Shimano RS11 wheels (1800 grams) for some Vuelta Corsa SLR wheels (~1400 grams) that I already owned, the weight of the bike (with pedals and two bottle cages) is hovering around 16.5 pounds.  However, I quite like the Shimano RS11 wheels and don't particularly recommend replacing them. While they are heavier, the rims are true and they seem fast enough.

The bicycle was packaged well and arrived with no damage. Everything is almost exactly as I expected. The only surprise--and a pleasant one--is that the specs on the website list an 11x25 cassette, but my bike arrived with an 11x28. I live in a hilly area, and it is definitely nice to stay in the saddle spinning a high cadence over the small hills and rollers.

The wheelbase of the Nashbar is a slightly shorter 98 cm, compared with 102 cm on the Motobecane. The reach to the hoods and drops is also a little shorter (about 3 cm), which gives me a slightly more erect posture on the bike. This is desirable for comfort on long rides; perhaps less so for time trials or racing. All in all, I'd say this is the most comfortable road bike I have ridden. And if I should want a racing position, I can easily lower the handlebars by changing the stacking of the spacers.

The paintless, matte-black carbon frame is attractive in a decidedly subdued way. There are slight variations in the carbon finish, but the frame is stylish in its refusal to be showy. Reviewers often comment on the shock absorption of carbon fiber frames. Maybe the minor vibrations of chip-and-seal roads are somewhat muted, but bumpy pavement still feels bumpy. The cushiony new handlebar tape and slightly less weight on the bars (because of my more upright position) may contribute more to the comfortable ride than the frame material.

The new Ultegra components and new cables lead to quick shifting. The eleven-speed cassette offers a nice range of gears. I love having the 28 on the steepest of sections (even if I try not to use it). The internal cable routing is aerodynamic and attractive, but I can't yet say how much I like it.

One problem I've already encountered is that my frame arrived with crossed cables in the downtube, leading to slightly "mushy" or imprecise shifting. The way to test for this is to flip the bike over so that it rests on the handlebars and saddle. Then shift into the biggest chainring and the biggest cassette ring and turn the crank arms a few times while also putting a little resistance on the rear tire. Now, put your finger on the exposed cassette shift cable where it passes over the bottom bracket. Without turning the crank arms at all, shift down from the big ring. This releases the tension on the front derailleur cable, but it should have no effect at all on the cassette cable. If you feel a slight movement in the cassette cable, it means that the cables are crossed inside the downtube. To fix that you need to remove the cassette cable, tighten the front derailleur cable, and re-thread the cassette cable. You'll have to "fish" for the end of the cable inside the downtube. To do that, remove the plastic piece near the bottom bracket (through which the end of the cable will eventually pass). This exposes a 1/2" x 1/4" opening into the downtube. Bend the end of a paper clip into a little hook that you can slide into this gap and fish out the cable as you feed it through the frame. You may not snag it on your first try. Be patient.

Some previous reviewers have complained about a creaking bottom bracket. I have not had that problem. In fact, when I first unpacked my new bike, I could see see a bead of grease that had been squeezed out from the threads of the bottom bracket.

The handlebars are a bit narrower and more compact than those on my other two road bikes. No doubt this leads to some savings in weight. There is little affect on performance.

The Prologo saddle is superb. When speaking of road bikes, it is, perhaps an oxymoron to use the phrase "comfortable saddle," but the Prologo is light while still providing a bit of cushioning.

All in all, this is a great light-weight road bike--perfect for long days in the saddle but probably also suitable for racing.

Update -- 7/20/2015: I have now ridden this bike 1700 miles and see no reason to revise any of the opinions expressed in this post. This is a light-weight, high-quality, handsome racing bike that is also comfortable for long days in the saddle. It has only two weaknesses: (1) the wheels are about a pound heavier than I'd like, but they are still excellent training wheels. I use them regularly on my other road bike. (2) The internal cable routing is aerodynamic, but not as precise in shifting or as easy to adjust and fix as external cables. But this is the new fashion and I guess it must be tolerated. It works well enough. So in conclusion, this is a remarkably good value in a racing bike!

Supraventricular Tachycardia

This is an image of Bobby Julich, the most notable cyclist in the world to have been afflicted with supraventricular tachycardia. In 1996 Julich was in top racing form but suddenly withdrew from an Olympic Trial when his heartbeat reached an alarming level. He was treated with radiofrequency ablation and came back to pro racing to compete in that year's Vuelta a España. In 1998 he went on to finish third in the Tour de France.

Now we have an image of a not-so-notable cyclist:

That's me, crashing out in my first mountain bike race at Craighead Park. I don't share much with Bobby Julich, but I, too, am afflicted with supraventricular tachycardia.

In the spring of 2004 I was diagnosed with paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia, but I have almost certainly had the condition much longer than that--perhaps for my entire life. What this seems to mean is that at unpredictable and irregular intervals the upper-chambers of my heart (the atria) speed up, putting them out-of-sync with the main pumping chambers (the ventricles). Usually, I don't notice this arrhythmia at all, but occasionally I can feel that my heart seems to be skipping beats or pounding irregularly.

In a normal heart, when the left atrium contracts, the mitral valve opens to allow blood into the left ventricle, which has just been emptied by its own contraction. In my heart the atrium apparently will sometimes contract at a time when the mitral valve is closed because the ventricle happens to be contracting at the same time. This causes the atrial blood to pound against the mitral valve and, over time, has caused me to develop mitral valve prolapse (a ballooning out of the valve). Interestingly, the "benefit" of mitral valve prolapse is that the sloppy valve acts as a shock absorber and makes the pounding of my heart less noticeable than it might be in someone with a normal heart.

The inefficient and asynchronous beating of my heart also means that sometimes the atria are not filled with blood when the ventricular valves open. Thus, the next ventricular heartbeat is "skipped." This causes an effective drop in blood pressure, and the body's feedback loop stimulates my ventricular heart-rate to increase in order to bring my blood pressure back up to its required level. So episodes of supraventricular tachycardia manifest themselves in an elevated and irregular heartbeat. If the heart-rate gets too high, the heart muscle does not have enough time to recover between beats. Contractions become weaker, resulting in exhaustion, dizziness, fainting, and (very rarely) death.

My desire to collect objective data about the functioning of my heart was a major factor in my decision to purchase a Garmin 305 GPS with heart-rate monitor. And after collecting several months of data during my time-trials, I have begun to have confidence in my understanding of my heart condition.

In the vast majority of my rides there is no evidence of any anomalous heart rhythm, but in a few there are episodes of arrhythmia of wildly varying length. In the first graph below I have superimposed the graph of my heart-rate on two rides of the same course at about the same average speed. During the "red" ride, my heart seems to have been beating normally throughout, with my maximum heart-rate peaking at about 158 at the tops of the steepest hills.

Comparison of Heart-rate During a Typical Ride and During One with Episodes of Arrhythmia
(Click on image to enlarge)

The "blue" ride, however, clearly has a section from mile 17 to mile 21 in which my heart-rate is about 15 beats-per-minute faster than expected. During this fifteen-minute period, my heart-rate spikes up to over 160 BPM (nearing, or slightly exceeding, the expected "maximum heart rate" for a person my age). I happened to glance at my heart-rate monitor during this section of the ride so I knew what was happening, but I felt perfectly fine. This is, of course, not particularly surprising. When my heart is in arrhythmia it is quite like having a four-cylinder car that is firing on only three cylinders. At low RPM's the engine runs sluggishly and may backfire; at high RPM's the engine seems to smooth out again.

Next we have a graph of my performance during my fastest-ever time trial on April 12th of this year. The green line shows the elevation, while the red line shows the associated heart-rate at that point. It was a cool day so there were no reliable heart data for the first three miles until I worked up a sweat and the chest-band was able to have good electrical conduction.

Data about Personal Record Ride
(Click on image to enlarge)

Note that from mile 3 until about mile 7 my heart-rate is consistently in the range of 140-150 BPM. This is consistent with a hard time-trial effort. Then, even though the route is descending and thus my heart-rate should be slowing because of the reduced effort, the data show a sudden upward blip of 15-20 BPM. For almost the whole rest of the ride my heart-rate stays above 150 BPM--greater than 95% of my maximal heart-rate by the standard calculation (Max HR = 220-age). Indeed, the average HR for the entire ride turned out to be 155 BPM -- an astonishing 95% to 98% of maximal HR, depending on one's method of calculation. Yet I felt solid, healthy, and energetic throughout the entire time trial. One can see in the data, by the way, that my heart occasionally tries to "reset" its rhythm. From mile 7 through 9, there are five separate downward blips of just the amount one might expect; and again at mile 27, in the midst of a fairly difficult little climb there is another downward blip of the right amount. In each case, however, there was so much adrenalin coursing through my system as I raced "the little demon" that my heart went right back into arrhythmia.

What can I conclude from all this? First, that I am blessed with a strong hemodynamic system so that minor cardiac inefficiency is not at all debilitating. Second, that if I can ever get out on a time trial on a really good day, and compete with the little demon without the handicap of arrhythmia, I should be able to shatter the record!

Update 7/29/2015

Today I came across a very useful and interesting article on cardiac arrhythmias in endurance athletes. If you have (or think you may have) such an arrhythmia, that article gives you a great dose of good guidance. As for me, I am still cycling 4,000 to 5,000 miles a year. This is enough to qualify me as a serious cyclist, but I'm not a competitive athlete. While I've completed a few centuries, my normal rides are in the 30-60 mile range (usually closer to 30).

For me, the best way to deal with SVT has been to completely avoid caffeine (coffee and tea, especially). That artificial surge of Adrenalin seems to have predisposed me to arrhythmia, and cutting it out entirely has really helped. I rarely have any problems at all (knock wood), but when something does knock my heatbeat off stride, I find that the Valsalva maneuver is pretty effective at restoring a normal rhythm. But the road ahead is never certain and contains different obstacles for everyone.

Update 1/28/2018

Here is another article that discusses the use of heart-rate monitors in athletes who suspect tachycardia. The gist of the article is that glitches in transmission of data tend to make athletic HRM devices unreliable in accurately detecting SVT. However, athletes with diagnosed SVT are advised to use these devices anyway. I guess the idea is that if you know you have SVT you should reduce exercise intensity whenever you see an exceptionally high heart rate. Better safe than sorry.

A more recent study suggests that newer HRM's are useful in detecting paroxysmal supraventricular tachycardia, but it was based on fewer subjects with fewer devices (Apple, Samsung, and Fitbit) during instances of induced SVT. It seemed a little less rigorous to me.

Matney Mountain and Push Mountain

Today Sue and I drove around to the south side of the lake in order to ride up Matney Mountain and Push Mountain in the Ozark National Forest. This is one of the prettiest and safest rides in the area with two big mountains (big for the Ozarks), lots of little hills, and lovely views across the valley. Here is the profile from my Garmin (click on the image to enlarge it):

The most intriguing part of the adventure occurred, however, before we even began the ride. On the drive to the base of Matney Mountain, we stopped off to watch the water overflowing the top of Norfork Dam:

Old and New

New Me!


Sometime last spring, I began to notice an occasional hitch--or catch--followed by a sharp snapping sound coming from the drive train (chain, crank, or bottom bracket) of my light-weight road bike. When I put the bike on the repair stand, I could create the same effect. There was indeed something that almost locked up the drive train. If I pushed hard enough, I would hear a pop and then it would seem fixed; smooth pedalling would continue for some considerable period of time.

I couldn't determine the exact location of the sound, so I decided to just keep riding the bike. Eventually it would fix itself or something would break, and then I would deal with it. And so I churned on for several thousand miles of summer suffering, including the Big Dam Bridge 100-mile ride. I was still recording reasonably fast rides--though I had not managed anything memorable for months. Just old age, I thought to myself--nonetheless a little irked.

After we returned to the Ozarks from Bethany Beach, I found myself drained after some rather slow rides. Well, there had been the sodden weeks of rain in October, followed by lethargy during the drive out East and back. Perhaps I was just out of shape--so I rode a little more and a little harder until one day I could hardly even turn the cranks and there was a perceptible grinding noise like sandpaper rubbing across a windowpane. Finally, I knew the cause of my problems, and it wasn't just (or even primarily) that I am getting old and slow. My bike's axle-bearings were shot.

Several days ensued during which I labored to discover what kind of bottom bracket my road bike uses and what exotic tools I might need to replace it. Lurking beneath the surface was the dim worry that perhaps I couldn't replace the part at all. After all, the bike had been used for five seasons, seeing about 20,000 miles of hard use. Would I be able to get enough leverage to unscrew the part without breaking something (most likely my knuckles) or stripping the threads? Could I even remove the cranks to get at the bottom bracket?

Time and patience prevailed. From studying pictures on the web, I deduced which tools I'd need and determined exactly which bottom bracket to order as a replacement. Bike technology, like most other technology, has rapidly become complicated by diversity. This is especially true of light-weight racing bikes. The desire of weight-weenies to cut grams has led to continuous redesign of bike parts that once seemed simple and unchanging. In the old days, when I first began wrenching on my own bike, the cranks and axle were a single piece of bent, stout steel laced through the bottom bracket. The bearings were the size of large bb's and were packed into races machined into the rims of the bottom brackets. Cups slopped full of grease and threaded onto the axle held it all together. Every year or so I would have to add more grease, but the rest of the mechanism seemed immortal.

About ten years ago I had my first encounter with sealed bearings, which never need greasing--and cannot be greased. Nice! But the cranks and axle on a super-light racing bike are marvels of modern technology. The cranks are carbon fiber, making them stiff and very light. The axle has to be the stiffest part of the entire bike because of the torques to which it is subjected. That is why it was made of such heavy steel in the past. A light-weight racing machine, however, uses an axle that is much bigger in diameter (to provide stiffness) and hollow (to save weight). This very clever way of building an axle means, however, that there is less room for the wheel bearings. They are miniature bb's now; and they wear out faster than they once did, requiring that the entire part must be replaced. Thus, the classic bicycle bottom bracket was heavy and hearty, while the high-tech replacement is much more frisky and finicky. It's fast and light, but not particularly fragile. On the whole a considerable improvement. Time passes; things improve.

As it happens, I have just had another--and entirely opposite--experience contrasting old and new technology. When I was a boy and young man, eyeglasses were really made of glass. Glass is the perfect material for optics. It is hard and scratch-resistant with excellent refractive properties. That is why telescopes generally still use glass optics.

There are only three problems with glass lenses: (1) glass is quite brittle, making it easily shattered in some circumstances; (2) glass is relatively heavy; and (3) glass is quite hard, making it difficult to grind and polish. The design problem presented by these three qualities is not difficult to solve. Because glass is brittle, eyeglass lenses ought not to be too thin. But making eyeglass lenses thicker makes them heavier, so to keep the total weight down, the lenses should be kept small. Smaller lenses are somewhat easier and less expensive to grind. For centuries, then, corrective lenses have tended to be tiny--like the 19th-century pince-nez or John Lennon's granny-glasses.

Sometime after 1970, however, plastic lenses came into vogue. Plastic is much easier to grind and is about half the weight of glass. For ordinary prescriptions (not bifocals), the lenses could be ground on the premises of the optometrist, and the lighter weight gave frame designers many more options--leading sometimes to very large lenses in unusual shapes--think Elton John. Plastic is also more shatter-resistant and more UV-resistant than glass. For these reasons nearly all modern eyeglass lenses are now plastic. Unfortunately, plastic has two rather serious flaws. First its refractive properties are inferior to those of glass, so you just can't see as well with plastic lenses--especially if you have a strong correction. Second, plastic is easily scratched, and even the scratch coatings on plastic are inadequate. To the optometrists, these aren't really problems; they'd like you to get a new set of lenses every year anyway. To the purchaser, however, it is simply irritating to pay hundreds of dollars for a pair of glasses that start to deteriorate almost immediately.

This year, when I went in for new glasses, I decided to insist on glass. It was a bit of a battle, as I was forced to listen to multiple lectures from everyone in the office on the superiority of plastic. They like to blather on about the horrendous weight of glass, but their favorite tactic is to raise worries about getting shards of shattered glass in one's eyeballs--forgetting entirely that plastic shatters too and that eye injuries caused by broken spectacles are very rare. I listened politely, but I got my way. Eventually, I was allowed to pick out a small pair of frames to cradle my glass lenses. Then my frame and prescription was shipped off to an out-of-town facility that could actually grind glass.

I couldn't be happier with the result. As the photos below indicate, the new frames and lenses weigh exactly the same amount as my prior set of plastic lenses in larger frames. The optics are superb. Best of all, these lenses should last years without deteriorating in any way.

So, modern high-technology in bicycles and in bifocals is lighter, but far less durable than the older way of doing things. There may be a general principle at work here. The heavy typewriter I used while writing my dissertation is still perfectly functional, but I have half-a-dozen worthless old computers gathering dust in the closet. In some cases (eyeglasses) the old ways are better, while in others the light-weight, high-tech stuff is superb. Nothing could get me to haul out my fifteen-pound 1960-vintage portable typewriter to compose a blog when I have the option of writing on a three-pound netbook. Indeed, that old Remington weighs nearly as much as my shiny, new Motobecane SL racing bike!

One final observation: businesses love profit, and hardly anyone will promote the free solution to a problem. I've lived with severe myopia all my life, but only when I was researching this blog entry did I finally discover that in a pinch one can fashion a pair of corrective spectacles for daylight use by poking two pinholes, pupil-width apart, in a strip of flimsy cardboard! But who could sell such an item at a profit so why publicize the possibility--even though it's exactly the sort of tip that could save some camper's life after a tumble down a wilderness hillside.

Old Me

Perception

What do you see when you look at the picture above? To me, it looks like a falling fox, ears streaming back from the speed of the fall. Our cabin is made of wood and there are lots of knots and swirls in which I can easily imagine that I see many things.

I now realize that I have been doing something similar in my push-up routine. I have been working toward 100 push-ups for more than a year and in the last week I got to where I did 98 in my first set. Almost there! I rested four days and set up our camera so that I could record myself as I made my first serious attempt at the big goal. I wasn't too surprised to fall a bit short with only 95, but I was surprised when I watched the play-back of the short video. I knew I wasn't doing perfect form push-ups, but I hadn't realized they were that bad. Over the months I had perfected a method of doing push-ups that required very little movement at all-- arms spread too widely, vertical movement too minimal. So I had been deceiving myself, believing what I wanted to believe.

Here is another example-- but not such a disturbing one:
That's a shot of my bicycle odometer taken early this spring. The bottom line shows the total miles, and when I look at it, I like to think it reads 99,999 miles. In fact, it is only 9,999.9 miles. Still, that's a real milestone--the first time I had ever "rolled-over" the odometer on any bicycle. (I've ridden a lot more miles than that, but usually the battery gives out on the odometer and it gets reset before rolling over.) Equally deceptive is the second line of the odometer which supposedly shows my maximum speed on the bike--70.8 mph. I've no idea how that reading showed up, but it is about 30 mph faster than I have ever gone on the bike!

Anyway, my reality check about push-ups means that I'll go back to a more balanced and less obsessive upper-body workout. I may never get to 100 push-ups, but I will get stronger.

Biking BATS

Every year--usually in early July--my wife and I load up the two cats and make the fifteen hour drive to Northern Wisconsin. By that date the thermometer in Arkansas is usually bursting its top, and it is a great relief to dangle a foot in the recently unfrozen waters of Trout Lake. Since we live in a post-and-beam cabin in the Arkansas Ozarks and my mother's guest house is also a post-and-beam cabin, the adjustment in lifestyle isn't substantial, but switching from the prevailing oak forest of Northern Arkansas to the prevailing pine woods of Northern Wisconsin does bring welcome sensory impressions. A good general impression of the lavishly-laked and heavily-wooded terrain is provided by the satellite view above.

Another delightful aspect of a vacation in Northern Wisconsin is a result of the beautifully paved roads that meander through the entire area, financed by sky-high property taxes. For avid cyclists, this is biking heaven--something obviously noticed by the Boulder Junction township elders who have had the foresight to establish the Boulder Area Trail System (BATS). There are roughly eleven miles of paved trail running from Boulder Junction down along the east side of Trout Lake and then east to Crystal Lake. This entire ride is stunningly beautiful, with expansive views of Trout Lake and Crystal Lake and plenty of places worthy of a stop and further exploration. Not to be missed is the short trail out to Cathedral Point near the mid-point of the Trout Lake section. Cathedral Point is a famous picnic spot at the narrows of Trout Lake. The tables are sheltered by massive pines and the views take in the entirety of one of the most beautiful lakes in Wisconsin. Another nice feature of the ride is the roadside wildflowers.

Click on the small photo at right to see a larger picture of the paved trail and a profusion of "Butter-and-Eggs."

The BATS trail system connects with similar trails from other nearby townships, so that a great web of interlinked biking trails is gradually emerging. But serious road bikers actually favor ROADS! The paved trails are great for family rides, but all those kids and distracted adults on the bike paths makes for a perilous experience if one is hoping to hammer down the path at top speed. I find it safer and more satisfying to wander around on the many, many wonderful paved roads. Here are a few fine rides:

The Trout Lake Loop is, perhaps, my favorite ride. The ride starts with the toughest climb in the whole area--Pope's Hill--a short, savage little thing that causes a fair amount of suffering. It's dangerous, too. The pavement is very rough and it's easy to get going too fast on the downhill section. A crash would hurt! The north leg of the loop follows North Creek Road, which is a little bumpy, but worth it--no traffic, deep woods, wild strawberries and blueberries along the roadside. The east side of the loop follows the bike path discussed above. The southern portion is quiet and generally safe. Finally, there is a short section on busy Highway 51. Fortunately, the gravel shoulders are firm enough for road bike tires at moderate speeds. On weekdays the traffic is fairly sparse, but this is a road to avoid on weekends.

Both Sue and I think the out-and-back ride to Manitowish Waters is a local treasure. The paved roads are smooth and seemingly endless. There are about as many bikers as cars on them. The whole ride is fun, but the section on Alder Lake Road is especially enjoyable--winding, wooded, with plenty of lake views and side roads to explore. After one gets up to Highway 51 near Manitowish Waters, one picks up another paved bike path, which makes its wooded way up through the town, past several lakes, and eventually into a forest trail. Usually, I'm ready to turn back at Manitowish Waters, but some day I will continue on. A host of secluded, paved roads await my exploration.

A third, perfect road-ride heads east to Star Lake. The prettiest part of this ride is the northern section on CR K out to Star Lake. It is winding and a little hilly through a lovely pine forest. The sight lines are not good, so I keep a sharp eye on my helmet mirror for cars coming up from behind. There are a couple of nice parking areas where one can hike down to Lost Canoe Lake and there is a lovely paved loop with fine views of Star Lake.

Here are links to larger maps of these three rides:

Trout Lake Loop

Manitowish Waters Ride

Star Lake Loop