AppleTV vs. Google TV : The Remote

OK, so who understands human / computer interaction? Let's compare:

AppleTV Remote

Google TV Remote

Half shorn, but ready to race

My New Year's resolution (self-serving though it may be) is to start racing bikes. Bicycles, that is. Motorcycles go really fast and I've already crashed them, so I wanna try crashing something new while I'm only wearing a thin layer of elastic.

I've been riding for about four years now. I like to say that I've started riding again, but my wife points out that I took a 20 year break, so my biking when I was 15 doesn't really count. She could has a point.

So, I've been riding and training for four years. I've ridden 9,576.45 miles since I got a Garmin 305, and I've been pushing myself pretty hard every year to best my personal records up Tunnel Road and around The Three Bears. My training, however, has had no focus beyond beating myself. I want to try to beat some other people.

So, the first thing I've gotta do? Wax, of course. It's Pro, right? Adds at least 15 Watts? In truth it was more of a throw-down from my wife based on a sale at The Body Shop. For a home job, I think it actually came out pretty well. I even finished up the other side.

I've got a few things I hope to get out of this year:

• Focus my training on improving race-specific strength
  
• Learn racecraft
  
• Become part of a cycling community
  
• Win
  

I'm pretty sure I can do the first three. On the last, I've got to balance work and my commitment to my wife and two girls. I've got a ton to learn. Perhaps the most important thing I need to learn is how to get strong fast.

I'm at least half ready to go.

Giro di San Francisco

On Labor Day, the 3rd of September, I'm headed out for my first ever bike race, the Giro di San Francisco criterium. Frankly, I'm a bit daunted. I chose the race because it's close to home (despite the fact that I'll have to take the BART in, as the Bay Bridge will be closed).

I'm daunted because it's likely to be a large event, and I've heard all the horror stories of crashes and broken collarbones in crits (especially among us rank beginner types). I figure if any red mist moron is going to show up, it's going to be at one of these high-profile races.

Although I've been riding with Team Oakland for a little while now at the weekly Port of Oakland ride, I'm basically getting my butt handed to me by lap 4. The only consolation is that there are often Cat 1/2s and some Pros out there. It's certainly increased my fitness and my comfort level riding in a tight, fast pack. I hope it translates into some comfort in the pack in San Francisco.

Ever since I started riding the aforementioned POO rides, my wife has been encouraging me to go out and try racing. This, alone, would make her a keeper; she's got quite a bit going for her beyond being the love of my life. She even used to be my pit crew when I did some amateur car racing. I'm a lucky man (on many fronts).

So, starting from ground zero (Cat 5 rank beginner), I figure it requires at least the following to be a successful racer:

1. Fitness
   
2. Tactical insight
   
3. Some modicum of explosive power (to cover breaks and attacks)
   
4. A willingness to be somewhat aggressive
   
5. Bike-handling skills
   
6. "The Look"
   

Okay, so that last one may not be necessary when barely holding onto the back of the speeding train of the pack, but I'll practice in the mirror "just in case".

So, in reality, I've got some fitness, a willingness to be cautiously aggressive (oxymoron?), and questionable levels of skill on the other fronts. I just want to sit in and make it to the end without getting dropped or crashing.

Reynolds Stratus DV Clincher vs. Ksyrium SSL SC

Okay. This blog has collected enough dust. Time to get back on the blogging bandwagon.

When I first got my Orbea, it was built up with Shimano R550s to try to hit a consumer-friendly price point. Being a relative newbie to road cycling yet also someone who can't seem to leave well enough alone, I asked the LBS what one upgrade they would make to the bike before it left the shop. They recommended wheels, and I slapped on some Mavic Ksyrium SSC SLs before I turned a wheel.

Although the folks over at Weight Weenies can't seem to agree on whether these wheels suck or not, I found them stiff and relatively bulletproof (turns out if you hit a barbed wire fence at 30+ mph, they will actually bend).

I've happily ridden these wheels for two years now, swapping the front when I managed to destroy it on the aforementioned barbed wire fence, but about six months ago I got the upgrade itch.

Despite the fact that the bike is far more machine than I am cyclist, I got it in my craw that I wanted some deep carbon wheels. No really defensible reason other than "they're cool", "they might be faster" and "new stuff is shiny". I even had myself convinced to try tubulars at one point, but realized two things:

1. I have precious little time as it is to ride, much less glue tires
   
2. My wife said she would provide neutral support. Once.
   

So, in the interest of domestic peace and accepting the dual reality that not only did I not need a new set of wheels and I certainly didn't need a set of tubulars, I started shopping for carbon clinchers.

It turns out that if you want aero carbon clinchers, you've got a limited number of choices that aren't boat anchors. My own personal goal was to get a pair of wheels that weighed in less than my Ksyriums (supposed to be ~1550 grams but widely reported to be over 1600g) and were truly a full structural carbon clincher.

That immediately ruled out the Mavic Cosmic Carbone's (plastic fairing bonded to aluminum) and the Zipp 404 clinchers (also boat anchors at 1,672g). Zipp claims they don't make a full carbon clincher rim because the heat build-up in the rim under heavy braking could cause tube failure due to increased pressure.

I've personally never heard of this happening, and I know that there are full carbon clinchers running around out there under the bikes of pro riders. Plus, it seems like every poseur is running Zipps.

This poseur is going to run something different. So, it comes down to the following:

• Corima Aero or Aero+
  
• Various builders selling permutations of the Gigantex rim
  
• Reynolds DV46C
  

The Corimas are awfully pretty with that 12k weave, but they limit you to 110 PSI. I run Vredesteins at 140 PSI, and I didn't like the implied fragility of those rims. That, and the domestic distributor has jacked the price of Corimas to track the gold market.

The random Gigantex-sourced rims are on the more affordable side (~$1,500), but I'm not crazy about someone who didn't do any in-house R&D and is essentially a glorified wheel builder.

That leaves me with the Reynolds.

• Full structural carbon clincher
  
• 1484g
  
• DT Swiss spokes and hubs
  
• Available 3-year crash protection program for $200
  

Okay, so the downside to the Reynolds is price. They're about $2300 before you buy the 3 year protection program for $200, so they're a little crazy expensive. They aren't Lews or Lightweights, but they cost more than my frame. By a good margin.

As a combination Father's Day, Birthday, and probably every holiday I can think of for the next few years, I put a deposit down on a pair of DV46Cs. Given the fact that the LBS is out of stock, I'm riding a loaner pair of Stratus DV Clinchers while I wait.

Originally, these borrowed rims had with some Maxxis Columbiere tires mounted. My first ride out, I leaned the bike into a turn and the front end got so squirrly on me I thought it was going to wash out. Fearing for my life and questioning the rationality of my impending $2500 investment, I mounted up the Vredesteins and gave it another go.

These rims (last year's, without the DT Swiss Hubs) rock. Conversely, Maxxis Columbieres suck.

I never realized how vertically stiff the Ksyriums were until I got something else under me. I always felt squirrly in corners with even somewhat choppy pavement on the Ksyriums. The bike is an aluminum main triangle with a carbon rear, but it's just plain stiff.

The Reynolds just soak it up while still giving me a great solid feel for the road. I find myself (foolishly, I'm sure), carving through corners at 3 to 5mph faster on these wheels than I could comfortably do on the Ksyriums.

I set a new PR around The Three Bears of 1:01:53, and they just plain look cool.

The old graphics kinda suck, but the new wheels look quite striking. Sure, I don't need a pair of wheels that cost more than my frame, but GOD they're fast and confidence-inspiring. Even with standard Ultegra pads, braking power feel is positive and sure (I haven't ridden them in the rain -- yet).

I'm suitably impressed. I'll probably rebuild the rear Ksyrium and put a trainer tire on it for the rainy season, but I'm really looking forward to getting my own DV46Cs on the bike this week.

The "Griz"

This past weekend, I rode the Grizzly Century in North Fork, CA. 100 miles and 10,000 feet of climbing. I've got to admit, I was pretty daunted by the prospect. I knew I could do 100 miles, but 10,000 feet seemed damn near impossible.

Spurred on to this idiocy by Paul and his claim that the ride wasn't even "two miles straight up", we set off for North Fork late on Friday. Of course, traffic was a mess and we didn't get to bed until 11.

Up at 5:15 to make it over to the school in North Fork for the departure. With me still feeling apprehensive (I don't think I talked to anyone at breakfast), we set out at about 7:30 (half an hour after our planned departure).

As we got started climbing, I realized that my legs were really on. The hills felt easy, and, according to Paul's Garmin, we started out on a 9% grade. The feeling continued, and I felt great for the first half of the ride. The scenery was amazing and made the ride worth the 200 mile drive from the Bay Area.

The scenery and support on this ride were both truly astonishing. I think the whole town of North Fork, CA comes out to support this ride, and the views throughout the ride make every turn of the crank worthwhile.

The lunch stop (which we hit at about 10:30 -- kinda odd) was stocked with the normal PB&J, etc., but was also sporting some pretty good-tasting sushi. Later rest stops had Baklava and water was everywhere. It's the best organized, highest enjoyment-to-dollar ratio cycling event I've seen.

Then, after 6,500 feet of climbing, I started to get left knee problems. After the turn-off at four corners, where the "Griz" really starts, my knee was killing me. Certain angles of pedal rotation would cause me to wince. I finally loosened my shoe and, ultimately, stopped and rotated my cleat to try to get better alignment. I think it helped, but it was tough to tell at that point because I was in pain management mode.

Paul unfortunately (or fortunately, depending upon how you look at it) dropped his vest into his rear derailleur and broke it at the bottom of the Griz and had to be SAG'd to the top. When he came by in the SAG wagon, I was sorely tempted to be the smarter man and get off my bike. Ultimately, I decided that as I'd made it past 9,000 feet of climbing, I'd go all the way.

Paul was able to get a used 105 derailleur installed at the top of the hill for $20 (deal of the century, so to speak), and, as a result, got to experience the amazing 11 mile decent to Bass Lake. I was fortunate enough to have $20 on me to buy a pair of leg warmers, as it was ~45 degrees on the decent.

Once at the base, Paul was strong (I'd like to think it's cause he missed 2,000 feet of climbing), and I struggled to stay on his wheel while we finished up the route, nursing my knee to the school parking lot.

We were met by the wonderful volunteers and eclairs (2 for me, 3 for Paul). We managed to skip the loop around Bass Lake accidentally, but at the end of the day I got 93 miles and 10,058 feet of climbing in ~7:30 in the saddle. An average of 12mph for the route, which I feel isn't half bad considering the climbing and my knee.

This is the must-do century of the year, and I'll be back next year.

The Ride to Defeat ALS

As I wrote earlier this year, my Uncle Dick passed away this June from ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), also known as Lou Gehrig's disease. This disease doesn't get a lot of press (or research money), though at any one time as many as 40,000 Americans have the disease.

This ride was special for me on many levels. It was an opportunity for closure -- to say goodbye to Dick. It was an opportunity to think about my own family (both my family and my parents) and how the passing of the first of my dad's siblings affected me. It was also a chance to do what I hope is a great deal of good.

I was the third largest individual fundraiser for the event, raising $6,644 towards a search for a cure. I'm proud of the fact that I was the largest fundraiser who was not the head of a team.

The ride took place in Napa on September 24th, just a week after I basically bonked on the EBI. The weather itself was spectacular, and the course was quite flat.

I spent half the ride alone, just thinking about Dick and about my family. The second half of the ride, I hooked up with some guys wearing Olympic Club kit and finally fell into a paceline groove.

I was feeling much stronger this week, and we averaged somewhere north of 20mph for the second half of the ride (my Cyclocomputer's battery was dead, so I was riding blind w/r/t technology).

Elise and Juliana were back at the hotel, so I extended my metric century another 8 miles or so to ride back to the hotel and meet them. It was great having my family there for the weekend, even if they didn't make the ride.

I'll be back next year, and I'll be working hard to exceed my fundraising from this year. It felt good to be a contributor.

The East Bay Invitational (EBI)

I've been pretty lax in getting around to posting about the past couple of months of riding.

Thanks to Rob Hamner for pulling together a great ride for the 1st annual East Bay Invitational (September 17th, 2006). Although I didn't feel my best during the day (I think I under-hydrated), it was a great ride with a bunch of nice folks. I hope this is the first of many annual rides.

Here's a shot of my friend Paul and I at the top of Tunnel Road / Skyline (depending upon which way you approach it). Clearly, I'm still feeling pretty good at this point, but it was not to be my day. We ran along Grizzly Peak and up to the Steam Trains, where we set off down a steep winding decent I've never done (and doubt I'll do again). Kinda crappy road conditions and a cyclo-cross sand pit at the bottom. This met Wildcat Canyon about a mile from Inspiration Point (towards the bears). I think just running over to Shasta or the entrance at Euclid would have been a better idea (and perhaps an idea for next year).

In any case, the weather was fantastic and we got some decent pacelining going, though I haven't ridden with these gentlemen (and ladies) before,
so you can see the safety distance (that's me in second place, waiting to take a pull at the front).

For some reason, the Bears kicked my ass a little bit this time around. Admittedly, I hadn't been on the bike in a couple of weeks, but I was getting passed easily going up Papa Bear. Hot day, ran out of water -- all the excuses, but I just had a weak day.

Nonetheless, a good group of folks, a well organized ride, and good fun. Plus, it hooked me back up with my friend Paul and ultimately led to my registering for the Grizzly Century.

Thanks, Rob. Looking forward to it next year (perhaps without the cyclocross section).