Review- Ergon GA-1

 

In the last five years Ergon has gone from a nearly unknown company to a major player in the cycling world.  On any start line on any summer weekend you're likely to see Ergon grips in strong numbers.  For endurance racing a comfortable and supportive grip is critical, and in that arena the lightweight paddle-style GX1 and GS1 are very popular as are their corresponding bar end versions.  So why bother with the GA1?   

The GA1 is what Ergon considers their technical trail grip and offers a more familiar round profile.  The idea is that aggressive riders put more emphasis on manueverability but still need a well executed ergonomic grip so the shape is much more subtle.  Unlike the GX series there are also two sizes- small and large, as you probably would have guessed.  

The good news about the sizing is that it's pretty simple, and the innovative packaging allows you to try the grip in box in the store.  At 5'11" I'm a large in pretty much everything- t-shirts, jerseys, shorts, gloves, socks, etc., so I wasn't surprised to be comfortable with a large grip as well.

Prior to trying the GA1 I had been riding the GX1 exclusively for two seasons.  I was really happy with the wider, paddle-shaped profile and found that it increased control on chattery descents and allowed my hands to relax.  At two different demo events I rode several bikes with standard grips and felt like I was holding onto a #2 pencil.  With that in mind I felt the GA might be too narrow as I'd written of round grips as being a thing of the past.  

Although the hand support isn't as obvious as with the GX1 the GA1 definitely has some thoughtful features.  The grip contour is much more subtle, and you can get the right and left-specific grips installed on the wrong side if you're not paying attention.  The end collars are marked with right and left, and there's also a small gauge embossed on the top of the grip that shows you which side should face up.  After minimal fiddling I opted to run mine slightly back from vertical but well within the recommended range of adjustment.

Out on the trail the grips took some getting used to, but after a few minutes I stopped thinking about them.  The support was surprisingly good, and while I never felt that the wider GX ever got in my way it did seem like the GA1 enabled more room to move my hands around the bars.  

I've ridden these grips with both standard trigger shifters and cut down with twisters (yes, I'm a fan of twisters) and found them to play well with both.  Here's how they look installed as I ran them for last year's Vermont 50.

When I built up the RSL this spring I went for a set of GA1s again as shown in the top picture and rode them in a very technical and very slippery 6 hours of Pat's Peak.  In both the 50 and the 6 hour I never felt like my hands or wrists were fatiguing and honestly never gave my grip choice a second thought.  

Although the round profile looks like it would make the GA1 lighter than the GX1 it's actually slightly heavier.  Ergon's weight table calls them out above the 148 grams that they were on my scale (the GX1s were spot on the 135 grams that Ergon advertised).  Those aren't much heavier than a wide-profile grip, and as a confirmed weight weenie I think they're well worth the very minor weight penalty.

The GA1 is a great all-around grip and shouldn't be written off by endurance riders just because it's positioned as trail-focused.  Ergon sponsored rider Allison Mann runs the GA1, and if you're looking for a solid, comfortable grip you give it some consideration.

ByeKyle Simple Strap Review

I hate saddle bags.  While I don't mind them on other people's bikes, on my own they just look clunky saddle-mounted bike luggage.  They just seem to ruin the aesthetic of a clean, simple and purposeful bike. 

Unfortunately function gets in the way, and I'm not such a slave to self-perceived fashion that I'm willing to risk that I won't have any mechanical trouble and therefore skip out on carrying some emergency essentials.  I still need to carry the basics, and when the pockets get full of gels, bars and a spare bottle there's only one place left to carry tools- the bike.  Solution?  Enter the Simple Strap.   

 

The ByeKyle Simple Strap is one of those rare finds that seems too good to be true.  It's functional, durable, USA made, cost-effective and versatile to be used for a variety of on- and off-bike applications.

The Simple Strap is primarily marketed as a means for mountain bike racers  to carry a tube and/or CO2 canister on their bike.  Sure you can use a bag, but who wants to fumble with that when they're in a hurry on the race course? 

I can remember a picture of Lennie Kristensen on the cover of Velo News after he won Le Tour de VTT, a race that at the time was dubbed as the Tour de France of mountain biking.  The race is still around but has since lost some of its luster.  I vividly recall Lennie's bike had a tube electrical taped to the top of the stem for easy access in the event of a puncture.  One of my first acts of pro mimicry was to tape a tube to my stem for my races in 1997 and 1998. 

The problem with tape is that although it's secure, it's not really that convenient.  If you're wearing full finger gloves it's nearly impossible to quickly unwind or rip the tape to get to your tube.  Once it's undone there's also no way to reuse the tape to carry your blown tube or used CO2.  The Simple Strap changes all of that.

While I considered running my tube Lennie-style on the stem I instead opted for the cleaner under saddle mount.  Some racers just attach it to the seat tube, but I found that it rubbed on my legs too much in that position and didn't feel as secure as I would have liked.   Ultimately the size and setup of your bike will influence where a tube and CO2 fit the best, and I've seen them mounted on both the top and bottom of the stem, on seat posts, saddle rails, or anywhere inside the main triangle.    

With it mounted to the saddle rails it's not only tucked out of the way but also makes for a very tidy setup.  After I figured out the best fit for the tube and Big Air canister I cinched it down and have never had any trouble with it since.  

Previously I'd used ski straps to hold a CO2 and/or tube to my seat post.  While the rubber padding helped keep things from moving around it never quite felt secure enough and when I crashed or transported the bike it would often spin out of place.  The rubber on the Simple Strap is strong enough to keep it from moving around, but it needs to be in contact with your bike to really hold tight.  If there's one instruction to using the simple strap, that's it.

I bought two of these last spring and used one all of last season for every training ride, mid-week world championship and endurance event that I entered.  In previous endurance races I had used a saddle bag to carry two tubes, but last year I stuck with my everyday Simple Strap kit and just kept extra tubes in my drop bags.

For $7 including shipping it's a steal.  I'm so sold on these that I bought a couple more for my new bike and just to keep on hand. 

The simple strap is available in a rainbow of colors and is available online at www.byekyle.com. 

Race Schedule for 2011... Leadville?

Apparently the Tour of California organizers and Lifetime Fitness are developing a series of Leadville 100 qualifying events. 

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/new-leadville-100-race-qualifier-system-coming

Interesting.

I may need to reassess my plans and consider making a run at it this year.  My original plan was to roll out to the following endurance races

6 Hours of Pat's Peak, June 11

Darkhorse 40, July 31


Hampshire 100, August 21

Vermont 50, September 25

Four races doesn't sound like a full season, but each event over 6 hours takes me about a week and a half of recovery time.  Considering I looked like this about an hour into my second race last year I'm thinking that four races might be plenty and that Leadville might have to be a 2012 goal.

KMC X9 SL Ti Review

I'm pretty jaded and cynical when it comes to new things that promise to be lighter, better shifting and more durable. When I had the opportunity to get my hands on a KMC X9 SL Ti I jumped at it, and I'll admit it's because it was gold, not because of the claims about improved performance.

Over the course of researching KMC I learned that they've been making chains for a long time, and have done contract manufacturing for Shimano among others. They've gotten some good press about their chains, but I have to admit that I thought a lighter than normal chain would be more problematic than its more substantial brethren.

This summer at the Windham World Cup I talked with Bentley Lee of KMC USA, and his confidence in his product convinced me to give KMC chains a shot. The last thing Bentley said to me was "you will notice the shifting performance immediately."

On my first mountain bike ride after the Hampshire 100 I exploded the PC 991 chain that had been installed the week before the race and had carried me through the 63 miles of racing. The race was hard, and the conditions were challenging, but I had hoped to get more than one long day's worth of riding out of it. Of course this had to happen on a group ride so my riding partners had to wait for me while I pieced it back together.

When I got home and cleaned up the bike I installed the X9SL Ti. I could tell that the chain was palpably lighter than the one I was replacing although I didn't have a scale to quantify the difference. After having a bad experience with a standard chain I was questioning the logic of installing a superlight chain right before an endurance race.

What I first noticed when I installed the chain was the shifting performance- the chain moved noticeably quicker through downshifts and upshifts required less effort. Bentley was right- this chain did shift better in the workstand and on my first test short test ride.

With guarded optimism I headed out for a ride to really put the chain through its paces. The local trails start with a sharp climb right at the trail head and I almost always climb it in the granny, which means a forced front shift under load. Remarkably, the chain moved quickly and smoothly as I dropped it down into the 24.

For the next few miles I was paying strict attention to shift quality and chain performance and I wasn't disappointed. Somewhere 20 minutes in I forgot about the chain, refocused on the ride and enjoyed a trouble free day on the trails.

After those good initial test results I decided to run the KMC chain at the Vermont 50, and I was glad I did. In dry and dusty conditions the chain performed flawlessly with its treatment of Boeshield T9 lube. I honestly think the titanium nitride coating improves shift performance and helps shed dirt (the picture above is from after the Vermont 50 and the rest of the bike is still coated in a film of dust and dried energy drink). In almost 6 hours of racing the chain never miss-shifted or faltered in any way.

What I find most amazing about this chain is that after that race it shows less than .25 wear (almost new) on my Park Chain Checker and has many miles still left in it.

I am thoroughly impressed with the KMC X9 SL Ti and highly recommend it. If you find the gold too garish you can opt for the X9 SL version without the ti nitride coating. There are also the marginally heavier X9L and X9 versions both available with or without the ti nitride for less money.

Oil & Water- Vermont 50 Race Report

This year’s Vermont 50 was much different than I had prepared for, and much harder than I was anticipating. Maybe I should have gone out for drinks on Friday after all.

My last crack at the 50 was in 2004, and the course featured some singletrack but was mostly dirt roads with many long, diesel climbs. I had spent the summer racing XC events and had good top-end speed, but in the weeks leading up to the event I short-changed endurance training because I felt that I needed to get that last result that eluded me all season.

The course has changed quite a bit since then, and so did the organization. The 6:00 AM start wasn’t as cold as I was expecting, but it was literally 40 minutes in before I felt like I could really see what was going on around me. There’s nothing like descending at 30 miles an hour surrounded by 40 of your competitors with your eyes half-open. I didn’t know it at the time, but that odd, disconnected feeling would stay with me for the next 35 miles.

As I pushed the pedals I never could get comfortable. The right gear eluded me and I handled every technical section with nervous and erratic line selections. Everything that worked for me at the Hampshire 100- the seemingly endless ability accelerate on demand and glide through technical sections was somehow gone. I knew why, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

In retrospect my build up was flawed. Work had been stressful as we closed out our fiscal year, and although things calmed down later in the week I was too tense for my own good. I also tried to fit in some practice ‘cross racing, which was probably what did me in.

When I prepared for the Hampshire 100 I dedicated myself to it. My rides were done on similar terrain, I focused on offroad skills twice a week, worked on muscular strength and spent hours climbing at tempo pace. None of those things were part of my VT50 build up.

In my defense, the 50 of yore was always a dirt road event where fitness and rolling resistance trumped climbing torque and traction. In the 6 years between then and now the 50 became a real endurance mountain bike race when I wasn’t looking.

Somehow I rolled past the first drop station, so my tough day in the saddle looked like it was going to get even tougher. Without my race fuel or the ability to push the pace my only option was to maintain my pace as best I could. This wasn’t going to be about a fast start or trying to break a PR - it had become purely a push to finish.

Many times along the way I thought about dropping out. I was sure that my friends that started behind me were going to roll by me at any minute. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my head in the game, and all I could do was to keep pushing.

As I approached the second rest stop I could hear vigorous cheering and cowbells clanging away. When I rounded the last corner at the crest of the hill I panned across the crowd and saw my coach shouting for me. He was standing by himself and wanted to make sure I saw him. As I slowly approached he kept shouting. He had my drop bag there waiting for me. I fumbled for my remaining GU packets and chugged some redbull as he ran over and refilled my bottles. At that point I had been spotted, and I knew I had to keep going.

I got pedaling again and began the next leg-burning climb with full pockets. A pair of elderly women wearing reindeer antlers rang sleigh bells I slowly passed. I tried to wipe the snot out of my beard to look presentable.

Not 5 minutes later things had changed. I had stopped to let some more air out of my tires and found myself blasting down a fast downhill. The day before I borrowed Ben’s Slash CD, and the track “Back from Cali” with Slash and Myles Kennedy started playing in my head. 35 miles into a 50 mile race the tide had turned, and the five words I remembered from “Back from Cali” would play over and over again on a loop all the way to the finish.

My attitude finally clicked into place- I didn’t feel strong, but I felt able, and I was riding steep climbs that others had to walk and making up time on technical sections. Slowly I started to reel back some of the riders that had slipped by me before. My time spent riding barely at target effort meant that I had perfectly metered my energy so that I was able to ride a consistent race and gain back some of the places I had lost as I faltered on the steep gravel climbs earlier in the day. When I got to the “5 Miles to go” sign I knew I could finish strong, and thought I stood a chance of finishing within my goal of 6 hours.

After all of that self-doubt and poor riding I was salvaging my race, and in the closing miles I picked off a few more stragglers. My finishing position wasn’t spectacular because there was one category for Experts and Pros. Jason Sager took home the win over an hour and half before I rolled in, but I felt like I had accomplished something when I stopped the clock fifteen minutes under my goal.

VT 50 Last Push

This week is all about the build up- it's the last push to get ready for the Vermont 50 on Sunday. It's been six years since I last did the 50, and I suffered miserably the last half of that event. That summer I was doing mostly standard (or Olympic distance if you prefer) XC events and tore through the first portion only to hit the wall and crawl to the finish.

This season is a lot different. I've been focusing on enduros and have some serious base mileage to back it up, I just hope that my mid-week 'cross racing hasn't made my legs forget how to ride tempo for 6 hours. As I've said in other posts, I guess I'll find out how good my prep was on Sunday.

The start is ridiculously early, and the 5:15 AM racer meeting is just painful. The temperature will be in the low 40's and we're going to be standing around freezing while we listen to some grandstanding about how great the volunteers are. I'm all for being thankful, but that's not the time. With that 45 minute pre-start lockdown I've been debating about when to get up, how to fuel, how to warm up and how to stay warm waiting for the gun to go off.

What usually happens is that I get a minimal warm up, the start is lethal fast with non-pack friendly mountain bikers and not pack-friendly bar ends all jockeying for the holeshot onto...the first few miles on paved (then dirt) roads. I'm so cold that I freeze for 10 minutes, then start to warm up, burn too many matches trying to ride with the fast starters, overheat, pull off some clothes, remember that I need to ride my own pace, then settle in after about 45 minutes with my pockets stuffed full of food, clothing and tools. At least I know what I'm in for.