Sounds simple, and it is really. But swapping your brake pads can be a lot easier if you keep a few tips in mind.
Why would you want to swap your brake pads? Well, other than regular maintenance (you DO change them when they're worn, right?), you may - like me - need to swap between brake pads that are appropriate for aluminum braking surfaces and those appropriate for carbon braking surfaces.
Like when you change from your aluminum training wheels to your full-carbon racing wheels.
Why is this sometimes complicated? Some brake pad holders have a set screw to keep the pads from slipping out. Once the set screw is sufficiently loosened, the pad slides out easily. No problem.
But some brake pad holders - like Campy for example - do not have a set screw. The pads just slip in and out.
Or not.
Trying to pull the pads out is often pretty difficult. Trying to slide them back in can sometimes be near impossible (don't ask me why I used to have channel locks on my bench for this purpose). And since I swap my wheels out a lot, this can be a pain in the neck fingers.
So here's what I do:
First, I use a small screwdriver to gently PRY the brake pad out of the holder. You shouldn't gouge the pad at all. Don't worry, I've pried both regular Campy and SwissStop pads out many times and reuse them with no problems.
So that takes care of removal. Easy. But try and slide pads back in - especially in the front where the fork makes access a little more difficult. You don't want to use oil to make it easier (oil on brakes? Not bright). Spit doesn't do it (don't ask me how I know).
Here's my big tip: GRAPHITE
It's just what you think - a little bottle of powder. I guess you could make your own by grinding up pencil leads, but getting the little bottle is much easier (and less messy).
Apply a little puff or two on the top edge of the pad (that goes into the holder)....
and apply a puff or two on the bottom part of the holder itself.
You'll find that the pad should slide in much more easily.
My "Learning Points" section from the last post seemed to be pretty popular (though, as TC pointed out, it could also be known as "Remembering Points"), so I thought I'd delve a little more deeply into what I learned/remembered during this past weekend, having flatted not once, but twice, in two seperate races.
Actually, I guess the title of this post should be "Tips for WHEN you flat during a race." Who'd want tips on how to get a flat tire? Certainly not I. Based on Sunday's experience, I've got the whole flat tire thing pretty well nailed.
So with Coach Rainy to assist us, here are a few quick tips:
Have spare wheels in the pit area. This is critical. If you don't have spares in the pit, you can't change your wheels when you flat. And they have to be in the pit - in the car doesn't count.
Don't yell "I'VE GOT A FLAT!!!" as you come up to the pit area. You'll just look silly. It's obvious why you're there. Just get about your business. Think John Wayne, not Jim Carey.
You actually can ride on a flatted tubular tire, but be careful and don't lean your bike or the wheel over too much. Steer when necessary of course, but keep the wheel as vertical as possible.
When you flat, raise your hand to let the pack know - otherwise, they won't know how fast you're slowing down. Of course, keep both of your hands on the bars to keep from crashing. Actually crashing in the field is much worse than just having the field wonder why you're popping out the back.
And THE MOST IMPORTANT TIP:
Make ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that your valve stem is closed and any stem extender STAYS tight.
Valve stems are pretty straight forward and even if they're not tightened all the way the tire's pressure will keep them from opening (one of the beauties of the Presta valve design). However, I've discovered that a stem extender is a different matter. When the valve on your tube isn't long enough to allow you to pump up the tire (not uncommon with deep-dish wheels), you need a valve extender. There are different types of extenders, but mine screws right onto the valve and has its own valve so that it's just like having a super long (like 80-100mm) valve stem.
But piggybacking one stem onto another comes with a risk. Though I didn't know it at the time, the reason my front tire went flat this past Sunday wasn't because of a puncture. Apparently the vibration of the road worked the front stem extender loose(!). Now I'm glad I didn't get any sort of result - I wouldn't have been entitled to it since I didn't really flat - I had an equipment failure. Unfortunately, I should have learned this lesson last August. Fortunately, I don't have to buy a new tubular tire.
Until I figure out how to address this problem, I'm a little nervous relying on the tubulars - most especially the front. Next time I install new, I'll be sure to put some teflon tape on the threads of the tire's valve to seal it tight against the extender. But since I can't reach that with the tire already installed, I'm considering trying some LocTite, provided I can apply it where I need to. And hopefully it won't end up gluing the valve shut.
Do any of you have any additional suggestions? (be kind - I'm still pretty new to valve extenders)
All of this discussion about tires and valves and such has clearly bored Rainy. Hopefully, if you've made it this far you've learned something helpful - or at least know enough now not to make the same mistakes.
Yesterday's Ris Van Bethel marked the beginning of my 2011 racing season, and it started off with a bang. Two bangs, that is. But more on that later.
After skipping last week's race due to the lousy weather, by yesterday I was ready to race. Or so I thought. Nobody let my stomach in on the plan and I woke up Sunday morning feeling lousy. As wonderful as it was being out with friends the night before, we got home late - just after midnight. And as I was getting ready to set the alarm, I remembered - OOPS! Daylight Savings Time is starting! So it was actually after 1am before I hit the sack.
I should know this routine by now though. By the time I got to the track, my stomach had started to settle down. And as soon as I started seeing faces I hadn't seen since last year, all the butterflies faded away. The main reason I race is to get to spend some time outdoors with other like-minded guys (and gals) riding our bikes as fast as we can. Everything else is incidental.
It was a little chilly at the start and VERY VERY windy. But as the field lined up, more than one racer mentioned how he'd take the wind over the sand/grit dowsing the pack got last week.
The strong wind even prompted a last-minute wheel change. Remembering how much my front end got whipped around during the Sweep Day ride last week, I swapped out my Williams58 clincher and put on a Reynolds Stratus DV tubular on the front. I hoped the lower profile would work better and figured the deep-dish rear would act as a nice rudder.
We had four EXPO guys in the race: Me, Lance and Dennis - who raced together here last year - and new teammate Joel, returning to racing after a 16 year hiatus (he started racing VERY young). Unfortunately, Dennis is out of the shot. And also unfortunately, the camera obviously adds at least ten pounds - or my base layer is much thicker than I thought . . .
I've mentioned it before - the best thing about the Bethel Spring Series for me is that I hardly ever even see a crash, much less get caught up in one. I don't know whether it's the quality of the racers, or the characteristics of the track, but I'm never nervous at the line like I am in some crits. That makes for a MUCH more enjoyable race for sure.
We started off and it was pretty fast - made worse by the fact that I couldn't get my left shoe clipped in (the lack of outdoor riding becoming evident). After bonking so badly - and surprisingly - last Thanksgiving, and starting my training a month later than last year, I really had no idea what to expect, and certainly no expectations in this race. Nobody was as surprised as I was when I realized I could at least hang in with the rest of the pack.
Which was easy since Lance and Dennis were doing all the work. We hadn't discussed any plan for the race. None of us have targeted it and are using these races as a true training series. So we all just decided to do whatever we wanted to do. And apparently, Lance and Dennis wanted to attack and chase breaks, which they did for much of the race. I was content to let them, figuring if I made it to the end feeling good that I'd see whether I could mix it up in the sprint.
Unfortunately, 9 laps into the 21(?) lap race, going into the third corner bend, I felt a familiar squishiness in the front of the bike. I'd flatted my front tire.
After the pack blew past me, I remembered that SDC had told me that I could ride on a tubular, so that's what I did - all the way up to the start/finish and pit area. I had my stand-by Williams58 waiting and teammate Joel - who'd ended his race early due to a badly pulled leg muscle - helped me swap it out. I was a little stressed, but didn't need to be - the pack seemed to take a LONG time to come back around. It's certainly a different race when you're waiting on the sidelines.
As I got back in, I turned my Garmin back on - or so I thought. I actually turned it off at that point so didn't get ANY data for the remainder of the race. Which is a real pity, since it would have been nice to have evidence of my late-race efforts . . .
With about 5 laps to go, I was feeling pretty good. Whether it was the euphoria of racing again, the pleasant surprise that I was keeping up, or - most likely - the extra lap of recovery due to my flat, I tried to bridge to a break. There were four guys up the road and they'd gotten pretty far ahead. I was near the front and as two guys launched off I was able to grab a wheel. The three of us tried over the next few laps to make it, but with 2 laps to go I knew we'd be caught. The Race Leader's team chased hard to bring everything back together, so I figured I'd recover for a lap then try sprinting at the end.
That's when Reality finally caught up with me. One lap recovery was nowhere near enough and when Lance asked me how I was feeling about 1/2 way through the Bell Lap, I - sadly - had to admit I was cooked.
But my first race of 2011 was in the bag. I'd raced strong, kept my head, and stayed upright.
This is what it looked like at the front:
NOW it was time to do the P123 race.
One of the downsides to having a last name that starts with "A" - the only guy with a lower number was the Race Leader. No pressure.
After having one of the helpful registration gals cut off my 3/4 race number, I went back out to line up. And BOY! did it feel COLD! I was literally shaking from head to toe at the line, my bike quivering back and forth. I was hoping to be able to at least hang with the Big Boys long enough to give SDC some shelter - or at least moral support. Since he's upgraded to Cat2, it's hard for him to get teammates in these races. Fortunately, the starting whistle got us going before things got totally unbearable and the hot pace from the start warmed me all up again by the time I got through 1/2 a lap.
The P123 race was predictably faster, with the pack being strung out only 1-2 wide most of the time. Even through the brutal wind on the backstretch, it didn't calm down too much. I'd entered this race just to see how long I'd last, but I never really got a chance to see. The Fickle Finger of Fate hit my REAR tire on the 12th lap of this race(?!) Flatting twice in two races, I decided I was done for the day and ready to get over to Hobgoblin & Dorothy's house for the rest of the afternoon.
It's amazing how different your perspective can be pre- and post-race. Sunday morning started out with my mind (not to mention my tummy) churning over all the yet-unanswered questions of the day: how would I do? would I be able to keep up? would I crash? By the time Mrs. SOC and I sat down to a lovely late lunch of pizza, fruit, cupcakes and great conversation (all my favorite things) that afternoon, I had two races chalked up for the season, two flats, one pit experience, LOTS of acquaintences renewed, and endorphins pumping. I couldn't quit smiling all along the drive home.
This is why I race - to have fun doing something healthy and spend time with friends. And I hope as I go through the 2011 racing season that you'll join me as I share my personal victories when I do well, and some tips/advice when I don't. Either way, I think it'll be a great year.
Photos & video courtesy Mrs. SOC
-------------------
Learning Points
After each race, if I learn anything new or that I want to remember for future races, I'm going to start jotting them down here.
Use lower profile wheels in windy conditions.
When doing races back to back, be sure to pin BOTH number on - first race number on top.
Have scissors handy when you have to remove your first number.
Be sure you restock your supplies before your 2nd race or you'll run out.
Eat at least 2-3 hrs before your race, no matter how you feel, even if you have to force yourself. Sure, you may make yourself totally sick and you won't be able to race at all. Or, more likely, you'll have the energy you need to race. If you don't eat, you're much more likely to bonk and can guarantee that your race will turn out badly. So eat.
Mrs. Suitcase and I took advantage of a beautiful day this weekend to ride a rail trail over in Rhode Island. I'll do a more-detailed post soon, complete with pics (which you'll love - it's a gorgeous area), but I wanted to be sure to pass along this tip ASAP.
I made the mistake of thinking that a casual ride meant casual clothing. So - taking advice from some of the more sartorial cycing sites - I decided to wear regular clothes for this little jaunt.
Problem was, this "jaunt" wasn't all that "little." The rail trail, though pretty flat, is 14 miles one-way. So I rode 28 miles in my khaki shorts and a golf shirt. On my racing bike (with its racing saddle).
Not. Good.
What do you think was worse: The inconveniently-placed seams or the fact that there's NO padding? (two, ahem, layers of cotton does not a chamois make).
Maybe regular clothes would work on a townie bike, with a cusioned seat, for a couple blocks/miles. But for any ride of more than, say, 5 miles, go with this:
There's a wise(crack) saying among certain bike racers: "Flesh Heals - Campy Doesn't." Well, like many bike racers, I've had my share of crashes. A couple of them have been worse than others - a broken collarbone here, a broken scapula there - but it wasn't until recently that I realized just how true that old saying was.
Case in point: My rear derailleur, or more precisely, my rear derailleur hanger.
Image from BikeWagon.com
I've become pretty good at bike maintenance, but for the longest time could not for the life of me figure out how to dial in my rear derailleur. I read all the books and articles until I figured it was just something peculiar about Campagnolo components better left to the experts.
Well, after racing like this for a couple of years - and it actually seeming to get even worse this season at Bethel - I finally decided enough was enough and I took my bike to the shop for a going-over.
Good thing I did. Long story short, they put a gauge on the rear derailleur and discovered it was WAY WAY out of alignment - and in TWO planes (it was bent in, AND twisted). It was so far off that an attempt to straighten it out actually broke the hangar itself. (Note to self: Always have a spare derailleur hanger. The CORRECT one. Ask me how I know...)
Back in the old days, if you broke off a derailleur hanger, the frame was ruined. Nowadays, the hanger is a seperate part - designed to break off before damaging the frame. But if the hanger's been hit especially hard, be sure to have your frame checked too. The mounting area could be slightly off too.
Installing a new hanger didn't solve the problem right away either. Apparently, even new hangars can be a little off, so best to go to a good shop that will put everything back in proper alignment. Or you can try to do it yourself.
I of course had no idea things would be that far off. But as I thought about my biggest crashes, I remembered that they'd all gone down on the drive side (Note to self: When crashing, be sure to lay down the LEFT side of the bike to protect your drivetrain). The one last October was particularly bad for my bike (and explained why the shifting was especially off this season). To my credit (and relief) the shop guys were impressed that I'd actually been able to adjust the shifting enough to even ride the bike, much less race it.
But now it's all better.
So if you're having trouble dialing in your shifting and have tried everything else, check your derailleur alignment. If you've crashed on the drive side, had your bike fall on the drive side, or even had your bike man-handled at the airport, an out-of-whack derailleur hanger may be the source of your problem.
I admit it. I haven't had my road bike outside since December 2. Other than a few MTB rides outdoors (and by "few" I mean, like, five), all of my training this winter has been on the indoor trainer. As I mentioned last time, I don't mind the trainer all that much. It's not like I try to do super long rides on it. Much more than an hour or so and I'm WAY done.
But one thing that's annoyed me a LOT with the trainer is that, for some reason, the front derrailleur didn't want to move the chain to the big ring. I could get it there, but it took a lot of finessing, letting pressure off the pedals, etc. VERY frustrating for "Big Ring/Small Ring" workouts, as you could imagine. I'd determined it wasn't a limit screw issue or cable tension, but couldn't for the life of me figure out what the problem was.
Fortunately, one of the side benefits of having Mr. & Mrs. SDC over recently was that I was able to have him give it a look. It ended up being a simple fix . . .
TODAY'S TIP
When you're front shifting isn't as fast as you'd like (or isn't working well at all), check to see whether the derailleur has turned inboard. When looking down the seat tube, if the rear of the cage is pointed slightly to the left, toward your chainstay, that's likely the problem.
Loosen the derailleur, and turn it so it is perfectly in line with the chainring.
You guessed it, my derailleur had turned in a little bit. Since adjusting it, it couldn't shift faster or more crisply.
In other news...
Racing season starts a week from this Sunday!! And we even had a great (as usual) team meeting last night, so I'm started to get really psyched about the upcoming season.
Just in time too - I noticed tonight that I hadn't uploaded my Garmin to TrainingPeaks since January 31(!) I know they were rolling out their new site, but I'd been clicking over to "classic" mode since I really prefer that interface. Well, I discovered classic mode is no longer available and I HATE the new interface. Among other things, in order to get those cool cumulative distance graphs that I post from time to time, I now have to upgrade to the "Premium" account.
I'm considering giving TrainingPeaks the boot - especially considering some of the alternatives out there (MapMyRide, iPhone apps, etc). I'd like to continue tracking my stats, but don't need all the numerous bells and whistles which tend to be more distracting than helpful.
What do you think about the new TrainingPeaks interface? Should I give it some time to win me over? Is there another product I should try?
It is an Absolutely Beautiful day today - an Absolutely Perfect day for riding. But I'm over 40 miles away from my bike right now, with no prospect for riding at all today. I'm not nearly as miles-obsessed as this may sound. A day like today is just about enjoying the act of riding itself and being outdoors. It's merely coincidence that riding into work gives me lots of miles. So what happened? Well, I'll tell you - and along the way will offer some helpful suggestions so you can avoid the mistakes I made this morning - mistakes which conspired to keep me out of the saddle on such a pretty day.
Did I mention that it would have been a perfect day for riding into work? I'd actually planned to and had even mapped out a route to get from Hartford to the in-laws' in Wallingford this evening (thanks in part to Brendan). But the logistics of the evening's plans, coupled with the fact that a) I've only been getting about 4-5 hrs sleep each night, and b) I got to ride in Monday and Wednesday (which is partly responsible for the truncated sleep), I decided to take the commuter van in this morning. I can sleep on the van and meet the Mrs. 1/2 way to Wallyworld in the evening.
So I got up at my usual time (instead of early for riding), got all showered and to the commuter lot when I discovered - "No van today." Now, since I'm not a morning person - and especially since I'd planned on sleeping on the way in - I wasn't all that lucid. Consequently, I made a big mistake on such a day as this (did I mention how nice it is outside??) - I went ahead drove in to work.
Here is a list of things I woulda/coulda/shoulda done differently - and which you can remember if this ever happens to you:
I woulda gone back home, changed, got my bike and ridden in as planned.
I wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway and the ride Hartford to Wallingford - as I discovered - is not nearly as far as I thought (so no logistical/timing problem after all). Alternatively, I could take the bus from Hartford to Middletown and meet the Mrs. to get to Wallingford and save that riding time. But having gotten up when I did, I would have been VERY late for work.
I coulda gone back home, done my usual 1hr beach loop, and then drive in to work.
This woulda put me into work just a little late and I coulda gotten a ride in.
I shoulda gone back home, got my bike/gear and planned on riding during (more likely "instead of") lunch.
As you can see, all of these options start with me turning around and going back home. Unfortunately, in my somnambulist state, I didn't figure that out until I was already 1/2 way to the office.
Those who know me best know that I avoid riding in the rain. I even avoid riding if the roads are really wet. I'm a little OCD about my bike and don't like to get it all mucked up - just means I have to take the time clean it and I don't often have that kind of time. I won't even get started on getting all soakin' wet. No matter how technical your fabric, no amount of wicking is going to help you in a downpour.
Given this aversion, especially during one of the wettest summers in recent memory, I haven't been riding as much as I'd like. Yesterday was a perfect example: Woke up to sunny skies, figured I'd ride after work. Come 4:30, the sky turns black and opens up.
Usually that would totally nix my ride plans for the day. But a teammate had agreed to ride with me and the radar showed the storm was passing through quickly. So, resigned to a messy bike, but likely avoiding a messy me, I decided to ride.
Good thing. When the forecast says "scattered thunderstorms" they aren't kidding. Where we started our ride, just 5 miles south of the monsoon, it was bone dry and clear. It looked like we'd get a nice (clean) dry ride in after all.
Things went, um, swimmingly until we turned back north for the last 20 minutes of the route. The clouds that had been threatening wiped away our smugness with a torrential downpour. I swear, I had never been so thoroughly soaked without jumping in a pool. But once you're wet, you're wet. So it's no biggie.
Until you descend - then you have to worry about your brakes (cuz they don't work, much) and your face (rain feels like sandblasting at 30+ mph). And, if you're like me, you have to worry about your contact lenses floating off your eyes and into oblivion rendering you totally blind. After riding with alternate eyes closed, the scariest part of the ride was when I realized BOTH lenses had moved and I couldn't see where I was going. And yes, I was going downhill at the time.
Fortunately, I was able to recover on the flats - recover my sight, that is. And other than the squishiness in my shoes and being otherwise waterlogged, riding in the rain was actually kind of fun. I'd probably say it was "zen like" if I knew what that actually meant. The rain didn't dampen our spirits and we were even greeted with a rainbow at the end.
Other than the obvious (avoid huge puddles, allow longer to brake, take wider lines, etc), here are some additional tips to keep in mind if you ride in the rain:
If you carry a cellphone, make sure it's in a ZipLoc bag. Actually, that's probably good advice whenever you ride. You sweat, right?
Always have at least one large towel in your bag. Even if you don't need it to dry off, it makes a handy "on site" changing room.
Have a trash bag or something similar to sit on if you have to change out of your wet clothes in the car (if it's still raining out).
While those tips may also have been obvious, did you know that if you ride in the rain your tires can fill up with water - even if you don't go through big puddles? Well, they do and I got a reminder of that from another teammate after our ride. And sure enough, when I checked last night, there was water in both tires. So...
Afterwards, deflate your tires and hang your wheels from the valve side. The water will make its way to the bottom of the tire where you can peel it off the rim and empty it. Of course, I'm talking about clinchers. Tubulars may not have this problem.
After last night's ride, I don't have near the aversion to riding in the rain as I did before. Especially since I discovered that - at least when there's not sand on the road (as there is so much in the Spring) - my bike isn't all the messed up. I just had be sure to relube the chain.
So what other tips do you have for riding in the rain and/or what special things should you do afterwards?
Naugatuck, CT is an old milltown along the shores of its namesake river. Like many other New England milltowns, it's a town in transition. Many of the old factories have shut down and there are attempts - many successful - to attract new business. And like any other town similarly situated, it probably has its issues with crime. Though when I raced there this past Sunday, none of that was apparent - it's a beautiful, friendly town.
Oh, except there WAS one crime I know happened and it was perpetrated on yours truly.
A hood robbed me of my race.
I've raced the Donovan-Ruhlman Memorial Criterium at Naugatuck (the Naugy Crit) twice before and I've always liked the layout and my results. But I should have read my report and course description from last year's race beforehand. If I had, I could have saved myself from being a victim.
The race followed the now-familiar routine, except an official made SDC remove his helmet cam prior to starting - a decision which is sure to disappoint the many fans of his race videos. Almost 60 of us lined up, with large representation by my former team and Central Wheel. I figured one or both of those teams would try to get a break going. While the course isn't a bad one for breaks (you can get out of sight), it was pretty windy and it was hard to gauge the pack's motivation.
But it was fast from the start. Despite how well I've been doing at the Tuesday night East Hartford crits, "real" races like this (maybe cuz there's prize money?) are certainly tougher and I didn't feel quite as strong and confident as I do on Tuesdays. But I held my own, staying safe near the front of the field, jumping to splits when they happened, even chasing down a couple breaks.
SDC had agreed to help me if he could so we both tried to stay sheltered. But the race had a strange dynamic - there was a lot of yo-yo-ing and changes in pace, but - thankfully - nothing sketchy, despite the poor roads.
The worst part of this race are the roads. Nothing's changed since last year - or 2006 for that matter, when I first raced here. The roads are littered with manhole covers, some recessed(!), potholes, and pavement seperations. While you could ride over everything, you had to be careful. There were quite a few jolts and you had to be careful you didn't get your bars knocked out of your hands.
I tend to race most of the time resting my hands on my brake levers, rather than in the drops. The more upright position allows me to see more of what's going on in the pack and keeps my chest a little more open for breathing. Problem is, when you're "on the hoods" and you hit a hard bump, bad things happen.
With about 11 laps to go in our 28 lap race, and after already hitting a lot of potholes, manhole covers, etc. I hit a particularly nasty hole VERY hard - so hard in fact that I was surprised that my wheel didn't crack or that my tire didn't at least blow out. But something was still wrong. I was slowing down fast and couldn't operate my rear derailleur and my right brake lever wouldn't work.
Fortunately, I was able to get out of the pack and to the pit to try and figure things out. The rear wheel was frozen and wouldn't turn. The brakes were locked up. I released the QR on the lever, opening up my calipers. Apparently, since I was riding on the hoods when I hit, the impact forced my lever down and in - stretching the cables as tight as they could go.
Unfortunately, the official did not consider this a "mechanical" which would have allowed me to jump back into the pack under the "free lap" rule. I'd have to chase. I got back on the bike and stomped on the pedals, shifting up and up to get maximum speed by corner 1 and the descent.
As I went fast around the corner, I tried to shift for more speed down the hill. Nothin'. I couldn't get the derailleur to move the chain past the middle of the cassette, so now I'm spinning like crazy to keep my speed up and try to get back to the pack.
It sure felt a lot more windy out there alone, but I continued - like a crazy man - to try and catch up for another few laps. I secretly hoped that the announcer would at least mention my stupid valiant effort and give me some taste of fame - if not infamy - for my trouble.
But no. The only bone I got was as I was coming through the start/finish with the pack about 100 meters behind me: "And we've got a rider off the front! Oh, sorry, he's a lap down."
That turned whatever wind was left in my sails into a headwind. I was done.
But I hadn't given up - not right away anyway. I kept the pack at bay for around 3 - 4 laps which - for somebody that's not used to being out on his own like that - was quite an achievement. No matter that the Mrs. said I looked awful, face and neck bright red, thinking I'd keep going until I passed out.
I only regret that I couldn't be there at the finish to work with SDC - and that he didn't know I was out of the race until about 4 laps to go.
But I learned a valuable lesson - and it can stand in for today's Tuesday Tip:
When racing on rough roads, either make sure your levers are rock solid and tight on the bars, or race in the drops.
You've been hammering on the flats, doing all you can to stay with the pack. You know the big climb is coming, but you're ready. Your training and preparation are paying off; your fitness is dialed in.
There's the turn that marks the beginning of the mountain. Easy now, as you hold your line through the corner . . . FAST as you and the rest of the group stand on the pedals to get a jump on the others, launching yourselves into the maw of the beast that is the climb.
As the road pitches upward, steeper, steeper, you click down through your gears. Finally, you can't put it off any longer, you slam your front derailleur into the small ring.
KaShrrring! NO!!! Your overeager chain totally skipped the granny and jumped from the big ring right onto your bottom bracket. The grade prevents any forward momentum, and it's all you can do to clip out before you fall over. Of course, that's the least of your worries now as you watch the rest of the pack disappear up the hill.
Or, if you're like me, you're warming up for the New London crit and your chain inexplicably decides to bail almost every time you downshift. Of course it works perfectly later on, but your confidence in it is shot.
Either way, you need a solution you can count on when even perfect adjustment fails (which it inevitably will).
I hadn't even heard of the Jumpstop until I read a great review by SDC. But once I discovered there was a small, inexpensive addition I could make to my bike that would allow me to set the front derailleur and forget it, it was a no-brainer. I had to get one for myself.
Ordering
The ordering process couldn't be easier - just email Nick and he'll send you one. If you like it, you pay for it. Otherwise, you send it back. No hassle. Satisfaction guaranteed. The only thing you have to worry about is ordering the right size for your frame. N-Gear's website has sizing tips so even if you don't know your seat tube diameter, you'll be able to figure out what size you need.
Note: The N-Gear only works with round seat tubes. If you have one of those fancy-shmancy bikes with aero tubes, you can't use the Jumpstop. But that's no problem - you probably keep it in the big ring all the time anyway.
Installation
The Jumpstop has to be mounted under your front derailleur and close enough to the small chainring to be effective. Since there's not much room to work in this area, installation is a little tricky. You could remove your chainrings to open things up, but you'll need to put them right back on anyway to make adjustments. I just left them on.
The instructions are very straight-forward and easy to follow. You may need to use pliers (channel locks) to squeeze the collar tight enough to thread the bolt into the nut, but I didn't find that necessary. But I could have used the channel locks to help me make fine adjustments more easily (by turning the Jumpstop on the tube). But that didn't occur to me until later.
The Jumpstop has to be 1.5 to 2 mm away from the chain to be most effective. Instead of guessing, I just put a 2 mm Allen wrench on the side of the chain, moved the Jumpstop up against it, and tightened the bolt. The only tricky part is that, as you tighten, the clamp has a tendency to turn out of parallel with the chain. The pliers will help you hold everything still.
Note: The nut that comes with the Jumpstop has a small nub that goes into the slot on the guide bracket. Do not lose this nut. Its design allows you to tighten the bolt without having to hold the nut (which would be almost impossible).
Install time start to finish: 30 minutes
Operation
I went on a few hilly rides right after installing the Jumpstop and, no matter what I did, I could not get my chain to jump off the ring. Just set and and forget it. It's really that simple.
Final Thoughts
The best thing I can say about the N-Gear Jumpstop is that it totally and absolutely eliminates the possibility of a mis-shift. When installed and adjusted properly, your chain will never come off the small chainring again. The confidence that gives you in a race situation - or any time you need to downshift quickly - cannot be overstated. Where before I would ease up on the chain tension and "nurse" my front derailleur over slowly, I can now just slam it over quickly and know that the chain will nail the ring every time.
There are other products out there that operate similarly, but only the Jumpstop provides a full stainless steel guide, and a clamp that is frame-finish-friendly. At only $12.40 postpaid, I don't think you'll find a better value.
Let me know if you try this product - and if you already have one, I'd be interested in hearing about your experience.
