Round and round and round: Track cycling 101 at the Kenosha Velodrome

 

Me, high on (the) track

When does a thought enter your mind? How does it mature, disappear, resurface, and eventually lead to an action, and maybe a temporary(?) obsession? I'm doing some mental archaeology of the process that had me participate in a track cycling clinic last weekend and now obsessively watching track cycling YouTube videos and sending pictures of track bikes to my SO (who's clearly rolling her eyes). 

Maybe it started here: A couple years back, at a bike swap in Madison. Browsing the aisles for bargain bike parts, I stopped at the table for the Washington Park Velodrome. They were raising funds to repave what is the oldest still operating velodrome in the US. Maybe I threw some money in their donation jar, maybe I didn't. And I don't remember any other details -- clearly at that point a velodrome was something abstract: Related to biking somehow, not related to me. But something must have stuck, and at some point it was clear to me: Here was an opportunity to try something new and different, and an opportunity that I wouldn't have in many other places. After all, there aren't many velodromes left in the US.

Art, one of our coaches and race official at the velodrome

For a few years I tried to recruit some bike friends to make a group trip to a cycling clinic. While there was interest and enthusiasm (or maybe they just were humoring their weird friend), we all have busy lives and nothing ever came of it. This year I was committed: Pick a date that works for me and just do it. If people want to come: awesome. If not: I'll just do it anyway!

In the days before the clinic I kept refreshing the weather forecast. It didn't look promising: Showers throughout the day, maybe some thunderstorm. I was prepared for an email from Chris, one of the organizers, calling it off. But that email never came. It seemed safe to assume that the organizers knew what they were doing, and so we booked the rental car and hit the road on Sunday morning. Just like the forecast had promised, on the way to Kenosha we hit several rain showers. They never lasted long, and so I was cautiously optimistic that there would be at least some riding.

In front our our little group, practicing paceline rotations

 At the velodrome, I signed a liability waiver, paid my $10, and then a volunteer set me up on a loaner bike. The club has a small fleet of track bikes in various sizes, and I ended up on a 58 cm Felt. I'm 6'5" and usually ride a 62 cm frame but for a couple hours the 58 was just fine. Maybe my knees were a little close to the ends of the handlebars, maybe my neck was a little strained, but it worked. 

We were sent into the warm-up circle in the infield of the track, and I did many loops to become familiar with the bike. I have been riding a fixed-gear bike as my everyday bike for several years (with wide tires, fenders, racks, lights), and so riding the track bike wasn't a completely new experience. Sure: I've never ridden tubular tires, I haven't ridden tires that skinny for a long time, and my everyday fixie has a front brake. But it was still just a bike. 

I saw some other riders leaving the warm-up circle and starting to make laps around the main track, and eventually I followed suit. The banking looked very intimidating. As I later learned, they're angled at 30 degrees, i.e. at a gradient of 58%! Would I slide off or fall over if I took them at slow speed? I didn't know, and so I just did some circles on the level part of the track. I observed the other riders who were going on the banked parts of the track at moderate speeds, and clearly they didn't fall over. So I tried it. And it felt weird. And I went quickly back to the level part of the track. Let's wait for some instruction on this... 

Keeping a safe distance from other riders for now

 

Instruction came: Leading the clinic were a team of seasoned track riders. Chris, Art, Bob, Lucy, and Mike. We started with some theory: How to slow and stop on a bike without brakes? What do the different lines and markings on the track mean? What to do and not to do to keep yourself and others safe? Will your bike slide down the banking if you go too slow? Then it was time to ride! The group was split into two, with a coach in the lead and in the back. After a couple laps in the warm-up circle, we entered the track. Group 1 got a half lap lead and then we followed. With the knowledge that I didn't need to worry about losing traction on the concrete, I quickly got comfortable riding on the banking. After a few laps low on the track, our leader took us up high, and then we changed between riding high and low.

 

Next were drills to rotate out and back into a paceline: The lead rider keeps their effort constant but goes high into a turn, thereby converting kinetic into potential energy. The paceline passes below, and the former lead rider drops down the track and gets to the back of the line. This quickly became my favorite sensation. At a 30 degree incline, the loss and gain of speed when going up and down the banking is exhilarating! After a drill to practice safely going around other riders we did a first mock race: I don't remember the name of the race format, but basically it's an individual timed effort over 200 meters, with a flying start. You build up speed over the course of a lap and a bit, and then it's all out for 200 m. At the beginning of the last 200 meters you want to be high on the track to get that extra boost of speed when you move down. My time was middling: between some sudden headwind gusts and no intuitive feel how hard I could go without blowing up, I did the distance in a little over 16 seconds. At maximum effort you can really feel how the bike wants to carry you up through the turns!

Finishing those 200 meters

The final opportunity to ride was a scratch race. I have no idea why it's called scratch race, but it's simple: You have a neutralized group start, a fixed distance, and whoever crosses the finish line first wins. It was neat to ride in a paceline, but also a little disorienting. The fast folks pulled away quickly and I settled in another small group, as the third rider behind another novice and Lucy, one of the clinic coaches. I figured sitting on her wheel was safe and probably not slow. Out of the final turn we were passed from behind and I tried to hang on as best as I could across the finish line. 

All in all I had a blast. If Kenosha weren't a two-hour drive from Madison, I would do this regularly. And I say this as someone who has zero interest in participating in road racing. Tuesday night is race night at the velodrome, and there are all kinds of race formats: Races where you don't know how many laps you have to do; points races where the winner of the first lap earns 1 point, 2 points in the second lap, and so on... Special laps that earn you dinner from the burger joint across the street; and many more. If you have the opportunity, I highly recommend doing the Track 101 clinic. All you need is a helmet and 10 bucks and the commitment to just do it.

SOLD: SOMA Grand Randonneur 65 f/f/hs

 Update: All sold.

Time to sell my SOMA Grand Randonneur. It has served me well, but I've parted it out and moved components to my new Crust Lightning Bolt. This has been a wonderful all-purpose bike for me: able gravel bike with space for 650x42B tires and full fenders (48 mm without fenders), long distance randoneur bike, and it also works as a front-loaded tourer. Skinny Tange Prestige tubing for a lively ride. Frame shows some signs of use (see photos), but no dents or dings. Included is frame, fork, and a Miche roller bearing headset (these supposedly improve handling on a low-trail bike like the Grand Rando). SOMA labels this a 65, but because it has an extended seat and head tube, it's more accurately described as a 61 (see geometry chart). I'm 6'5" and it fit me well, with a good amount of seat post and stem showing. 

 

Price: $350. There were multiple versions of this frameset, and this is usually described as V2: Original paint, but a somewhat less dog-legged fork bend. Takes cantilever brakes and the fork is 1" threaded. Local pickup in Madison preferred, but I can ship, with buyer paying all fees. Leave a comment on this post if you're interested or have questions.

 

 

 

The Cracking Bike Rim: From one cracker to another?

 It's been a long time since I've had to deal with a cracking rim. Back then, my sidewall failed under heavy braking, and it prompted me to write an article about measuring rim sidewall thickness (which turns out to be one of the most popular posts on this blog...). 

 

 

This time around it wasn't wear that made my rim crack and it wasn't the sidewalls that were affected. A few weeks ago, when changing tires, I noticed cracks around several spoke holes. The wheels had come to me used, and I had been riding them for several years and thousands of miles. In the back of my mind I recalled reading complaints about this specific model of rim, the made-in-Australia Velocity Synergy OC rims. This was one of the rims that was available in 650B size early on, and the off-center design made it nice to build with. Some googling confirmed: The Synergy OC indeed had a history of people reporting cracking at the spoke holes (you have to scroll down quite a bit to the relevant post), maybe due to excessive spoke tension, maybe not. I had no idea how long the cracks had been on the rim. Early on in my ownership I had to replace a broken spoke, and a few weeks ago I felt a slight wobble in the wheel. But I attributed that to a badly seated tire -- the other thing that Synergys were known for was loose tire fit. In full avoidance mode I decided to deal with this once the season was over.

 

That didn't quite work out. On a leisurely ride on Saturday, I suddenly a pretty bad wobble on the rear wheel. I immediately knew was up, and visual inspection confirmed it: The cracks no longer were just around the holes but had started pulling out sections of the spoke bed. I made it back home alright, but immediately took the wheel apart. 

 

What to rebuild with, though? Fortunately there are still a bunch of 650B options for rim brakes available, e.g. the HED Belgium, Velo Orange Voyager, or Pacenti Brevet. But hoarder that I am, I actually have a pair of brand new 650B rims sitting in the basement. These are Pacenti SL23s, which I had gotten at a sale many years ago. Convenient, isn't it? Well, except for one thing: The SL23 also has a reputation for cracking at the eyelets.

 

I have another wheelset with SL23s, and they have been working just fine for years. So I'm willing to take the risk. The wheel has been built. Now we'll have to see how they'll hold up.

Off-topic: Fixing a leaking steam wand on a Saeco Aroma

 Yes, this still is a bike blog. But we all know there is some overlap between the bike and the coffee scene. So please allow me to publish a very brief post on fixing my espresso machine. 

I have a Saeco Aroma, bought refurbished in 2013. It's just enough espresso machine for my needs, and it's been working reliably for years. There always had been a little leakage from the steam wand into the drip tray, but only recently the dripping increased to a point where I needed to do something about it.

 

I spent a good amount googling around for a solution. Every espresso maker is a little different, and there are lots of different kinds of leaks and causes for them. Eventually I found a link to what sounded like a solution to my problem. However, the link produced this:

A 404 error :(

 

Internet Web Archive to the rescue!The page was indeed archived. What was missing, though,  were the pictures. Fortunately, espresso makers aren't particularly complex pieces of technology, and so I could figure things out based on the text alone. For the sake of posterity I thought I'd document the process.

1. Unplug the machine. Make sure the machine had enough time to cool down. 
2. Remove the water tank and loosen the two Philips head screws that hold the metal cover in place. Don't lose the serrated washers
3. Remove metal top
4. You can see how the steam knob has a snap ring and a washer on it. Those two parts prevent the knob from being turned all the way out. 
5. Remove the snap ring. There's a good chance it'll fall somewhere into the machine, but it's easy to get it back out with a magnetized screwdriver. 
6. Keep turning the steam knob counter-clockwise until it comes out. Put the large metal washer to the side.
   

 

The lid is off

Snap ring

 

Snap ring removed; washer and knob still in place

Knob removed. There appears to be some corrosion on the tip

After rubbing off the corrosion, you can see that there are two grooves in the tip of the knob. This is what is causing the leak. 

 

The original instructions said to use use 220 grit sandpaper and steel wool to remove the grooves. This is where things got a little tricky: Without a visual reference, I wasn't sure how much material to remove.So I took it slow, starting out with extra-fine steel wool. The grooves were still visible when I tested thing the first time, and indeed there was still dripping. I removed a little more material, now using sandpaper. Brass is soft, and so it doesn't take long to remove a lot of material -- be careful, and maybe use a finer grit sandpaper. The second time round it seems like I got it right. There are still a couple drops when pulling a shot, but way less than before.

Pretty smooth now!

 

Reassembly is easy, except that I couldn't remember which of the two grooves on the know the snap ring went on.

If you found this post helpful, buy some stuff from Amazon through my affiliate link! For example, some Lavazza Super Crema.

A 300km DIY brevet to Kettle Moraine

My 200k ride two weeks ago went well. Near the end of the ride I started asking myself, "What would it be like to add another 100k?" I've ridden two 300k brevets before, one going really well, the other less so. Of course, organized brevets have all been cancelled due to COVID, and there are no sanctioned 300k permanent routes starting from Madison. So I figured I'd do a DIY brevet.

The difference between a DIY brevet and just a long ride? I dug up some of my knowledge about how to ride a good time and made a solid plan. The standard reference to this is an article in Bicycle Quarterly, where Jan Heine describes how he created his plan to ride Paris-Brest-Paris, a 1200 km ride, in under 64 hours. One of the keys is to minimize the time off the bike, and to do that you need to specify how much time you're going to spend at each stop. Following the article's suggestion, I created a spreadsheet to help me with the planning. 

 

Based on recent rides and the wind forecast, I figured I should be able to maintain an average moving speed of close to 25 km/h (15.5 mph). I made some adjustments to account for presumed hilliness of the sections and the fatigue in the later parts of the ride. The break schedule was aggressive. A 15 minute break? Sounds long, but it's all to easy to, as the Brits say, faff about and waste half an hour at a gas station. This costs you time while also not really providing much rest.  

 With sunrise a little after 6 am, I aimed for a 5:30 am start to maximize riding time with daylight. I was happy enough that I was on the road by 5:34 but that happiness didn't last long. About 2 km into the ride I saw a face mask in the middle of the road. That triggered an immediate, "Oh shit, I didn't pack a mask!" An additional 5 km and already 17 minutes behind schedule. Sigh.

The ride to the first control was uneventful. My legs felt in okay shape and there was hardly any wind. My route incorporated a tiny detour just before the control to collect two Explorer tiles. I skipped the first control in Newville as I still had plenty of water and wanted to make up some of the lost 17 minutes. At this point an unexpected drizzle had started. But I was making good time and at the next stop, in Whitewater, I was ahead of schedule. The lakefront park I had chosen for a 30-minute rest turned out to be so-so: The restrooms were locked and the lake turned out to be more of a swamp or marsh. But at least it had comfortable benches. I cut the 15 minutes break time down to 10 to account for having to make another gas station stop for water. 

The underwhelming lake view in Whitewater

 

The next section of the ride was my favorite. Kettle Moraine was already in view from just outside Whitewater. Oak trees, pine forests on sandy soil, gentle climbs on windy roads, good views. If this were closer to Madison, I'd ride here all the time. And based on the number of roadies I encountered, I'm not alone in this assessment. 

 

Eventually the moraine ended and the country of giant mansions on private lakes and Donald Trump election signs began. The next control was in the Town of Oconomowoc (population 98.74% white; 2018 vote share Scott Walker: 74%). Nobody at the gas station but me wore a mask, including the staff... I had calculated my arrival time based on a segment speed of 23 km/h, assuming that the hills of the Kettle Moraine would slow me down. But they had been gentle enough for me to arrive at the half-way point or the ride with 30 minutes in the bank. 

Looking for ways to stay healthy? Wear your f'ing mask

 

Those 30 minutes would come in handy for the next segments. The wind had picked up and came from the northwest. Which way did my route take me? Well, first north, then west. In addition to the cross/head wind, there were constant rolling hills, which I hadn't expected. And the route was dead straight for the most part. So it was a bit of a grind, mentally and physically. 

 

By the time I got to the next control, in Watertown I was a few minutes behind schedule. Or was I? Losing 30 minutes over 44 km seemed like a lot. Trying to claw back time, I skipped the Watertown stop (only 5 minutes anyway) and pressed on toward Waterloo. Once I got close to town and checked the clock, it looked like I would get there ahead of schedule. Weird: I certainly didn't feel any faster between Watertown and -loo, and I wondered if maybe my schedule sheet was wrong (I checked today, and it wasn't). Who knows.

In Waterloo I was scheduled for another "long" break, at half an hour. I bought supplies at a gas station, but it didn't have any seating. By the time I got to the nearby Firemen's Park, only 20 minutes of break time were left. Let me tell you: This break schedule was brutal. But the schedule is the schedule.

From here on I was in semi-familiar territory again. It was nice to recognize some of the road names from previous rides. But the wind had gotten stronger and the grind continued. What helped me get through this was listening to a podcast interview (in German) with Phil, an ultra-cyclist with a very chill-but-intense and inspiring attitude about riding your bike over long distances.

 

I probably was dehydrated and undernourished at this point, despite what I thought to be a decent job of chugging water, Clif Shots and Bars, and (a new addition to the arsenal) Tailwind. My body was in underpowered Diesel engine mode: Fine at constant speed, but slowing down drastically on every uphill. My heart rate for the most part refused to go into Zone 3. 

The last control before Madison was the general store in Keyeser. I had been there once before and wasn't counting on the store actually being open. But it was closed indeed and the faint hope for a Pepsi was squashed. No luck. I was 19 minutes behind schedule now, with 35 km to go. All south from here on, that is, no longer into the wind. Maybe with skipping the 5-minute stop at Keyeser I could make up the remaining 14 minutes and arrive on schedule?

To increase my chances, I followed advice I had just learned from the podcast with Phil. He describes how during ultra races he often catches a second wind in the evening hours. "I'll put on an awesome set on my speakers, real bangers. And then: Kopf aus, Beine an." Brains off, legs on.

The "brains off" part probably worked; the "legs on" less so. And so it was 7:42pm when I rolled in. Twenty-four minutes behind schedule, with a total elapsed time of 14 hours 12 minutes and 12:40 in the saddle. This was faster than any of my 300k brevets (14:26 and 15:12). Of course on an actual brevet you don't have the option to just ride through controls -- you have to stop at least long enough to get your brevet card signed, which can easily cost you 5 to 10 minutes each time. But on the other hand, I didn't benefit from any drafting, and there were the 17 minutes lost to forgetting my mask.

 

Conclusion? Well, I'll just copy and paste the one from my ride report from the previous 300 km (where incidentally my moving average was exactly the same):

My moving average was much lower [than on my first 300k], 24.6 vs. 27.4 km/h, but I spent half an hour less at the stops. This pretty impressively shows that a fast brevet is not so much the result of riding fast but of having efficient stops.

Just across the border

Big fake sheep

[content note: Lots of stuff about eating, and not eating]

It's been over a year since I last did a 200 km ride. With the pandemic, there have been no organized brevets, water fountains and restrooms at parks were closed, and I didn't feel comfortable doing my usual gas station stops. With three water bottles this limited me to 120 to 140 km, depending on the heat. With a statewide mask mandate and the research on mask effectiveness, I felt okay embarking on a longer ride and refuel at gas stations when necessary. This Saturday conditions looked perfect. A high of 28°C (80 F), mostly calm winds from the NE, sunny.

The destination for the ride was a certain retail establishment located just across the Illinois border in South Beloit. The Strava route builder did a good job of suggesting a route, and I didn't have to spend too much time fine-tuning it to collect a couple more Explorer tiles along the way. The total distance was 196 km. Far enough, but I figured I could always add a little detour or two to make it to 200.

Because I would have the wind in my back for the first half of the ride, I didn't want to leave too early. No point in riding with a calm tailwind, only then to ride back when the headwind is strongest. This was fine by me and accommodated my usual slowness in getting ready in the morning. Two coffees and one bowl of oatmeal in me, I was won the road by 7:18am.

My recently repainted Gunnar was in tip top shape (minor rear derailleur indexing issues aside) and I felt great. As predicted, the wind wasn't strong but definitely in my back. At the current speed I calculated that I could be at the turnaround point well before noon.

The Peace Trail follows the Rock River and will eventually connect Janesville and Beloit

One thing I have been struggling with on long rides lately is eating. My glycogen stores were still full of yesterday's pasta and the bowl of oatmeal. I know I should keep eating all throughout the ride, but in the first couple hours into the ride I just didn't feel like it at all. I had had some vague plan to stop in Janesville, about 75 km in, but then of course my route didn't really go through Janesville but around it on the lovely Peace Trail. So by the time I got to the Road Ranger gas station in South Beloit, my turnaround point, I had only had one Clif Bar and one bottle of water. There I bought a bag of dill pickle chips, a bag of actual pickles, and a bottle of V8, but only half the bag of chips and drank the V8. I kindasorta knew that this wasn't going to be sustainable, but bike brain also stopped me from doing something about it.

Well, it did go alright for another hour on the return leg, but then my body started sending some "cough, cough, didn't you forget something??" messages. The first sign was that the lukewarm, slightly plasticky water in my bottle suddenly tasted absolutely amazing! I quickly downed my remaining two water bottles and set my eyes on finding a gas station quickly. It didn't take long until I got to Footville. The gas station looked vaguely familiar from previous rides and I bought a whole gallon of water. So far, so good. But apparently taking care of one bodily need made me lose track of that whole eating thing. I really enjoy sitting down on a nice bench to eat, and neither the gas station nor the Footville Memorial Park offered such amenities. "Ah well, instead of following the signs to Footville Community Park, which would take me slightly off route, I'll just keep going and stop in Evansville! Can't be more than 20k!" Yeah, I know.

Next bodily message, at the bottom of a hill, probably halfway to Evansville: "I'm not going to ride up there unless you feed me. Right. Now." Who's to argue with that. I just stopped on the side of the road and ate both a Clif Bar and a Clif Shot. This was enough to get me to Evansville, where I stopped at Lake Leota Park. I finished the remaining half of the chips and the pickles (note to self: pay attention and don't buy the spicy pickles) and kept drinking more water. This was plenty to console my body and get it ready for the remaining 50 km.

Have I mentioned that I like pickles?

I realized I couldn't make it back home by 4:20. (I'll leave it to my readers to figure out why this is relevant to this report). This provided a welcome excuse to add a couple kilometers and make a pit stop at the Hop Garden in Paoli. This is truly one of my most favorite spots, and a beer and a Pepsi were extremely delicious, 185 km into the ride. Once I got going again I noticed that my average pace had fallen just under 25 km/h. Not that it really mattered, but it provided a boost of motivation to get it back up to 25 and complete the 200 km in under 8 hours riding time. There are a couple minor hills Paoli and Verona -- not exactly conducive to raising the average speed -- and I did what my legs allowed me to do. Once I reached the Military Ridge Trail I was able to push the pace. And indeed, the display of my Wahoo jumped from 24.9 to 25.0 km/h maybe 5 minutes before I reached the 200 km mark, just at the city limits of Madison. Pretty good for a solo ride.

This was a great ride, and despite the eating/drinking issue I felt pretty good the whole time. Nonetheless, I'd like to figure something out about the eating issue. Maybe strictly pre-planned stops? Bring real food like I used to do on brevets? Set up an obnoxious alert on my phone or the Wahoo? Maybe embarking on a 300 km route, or a 200 km with more climbing will force me to come up with a solution.