Change Your Handlebars, Change Your World

When I wrote about our custom tandem bike, I mentioned that we didn't get off to the best start. The bike just felt unsteady to me as the captain and I struggled for months trying to determine whether we'd ever really be able to ride the tandem together.

Before it had even arrived, we had conversations about the possibility of needing to put different handlebars on the bike. We'd asked that it be built with drop bars, but knowing that I sometimes struggle with that type of set up on a bike (sometimes it's worked well and other times it just never quite works for me), we wanted the option to put more upright bars on the bike. The builder was aware of this and told us that the bike could be easily switched to other handlebars, perhaps needing just a change of the length of the stem.

Drop bars on the tandem the day it arrived. It didn't stay this way for long!

Immediately after the first test, I was aware that the drop bars were not going to work for me on the tandem, but we gave them a try for a few rides. Being shorter and having drop bars with bar end shifters, I was struggling both with mounting the bike without shifting the gears accidentally with my thigh and the actual feel of the bike while steering. Already feeling uneasy about piloting the unsteady bike, I didn't need any extra trouble.

My instinctual thought was to put albatross handlebars on the front of the tandem. They are always easy for me to use, and with bar end shifters I figured that would help alleviate the accidental shifting when mounting. We also discussed the possibility of using trekking/butterfly handlebars because they've been a good option on some bikes too.

The easiest switch was to use the spare albatross bars, so we mounted them up with a longer stem and set to testing. This switch definitely helped with the shifting issue, and actually allowed us to ride the bike together; however, it definitely didn't make the bike feel much steadier when riding. For months, we struggled, riding the tandem this way. We were happy that we could actually ride the tandem, but the ride was still not what we'd expected. Honestly, we assumed that this is just how it was going to be and I'd have to come to terms with the reality that the tandem, while now rideable, was never going to feel the way we'd hoped.

Albatross handlebars on the tandem. We tried flipping them both ways to see if one way worked better than the other, but upright seemed to be the best position.

We had several conversations, often as we rode the tandem, that perhaps we just needed to accept that this was a mistake and that we should have just been grateful with the too-large tandem we already had. At least that one felt steady. I myself said more than once that I wished we'd never bothered because we just weren't getting what we'd hoped to out of the custom tandem and we'd invested a lot into it. We were able to ride it, but it just never felt quite like we wanted it to.

One day over the winter, I was riding the trainer (currently set up with the VO Campeur--a strange choice for a trainer bike, I'm aware-- which is built with trekking handlebars) and thinking to myself that we never actually tried putting those bars on the tandem and that maybe we should give it a try. My thinking was that at least it would provide some additional locations to move my hands around. With the albatross bars on the tandem, I always felt too shaky to move my hands, not to mention there aren't as many options for spots to move my hands to, which was causing my already bad hands/wrists to experience even more pain.

Trekking bars on the Velo Orange Campeur

I mentioned casually to Sam that we should try the trekking bars out on the tandem, who agreed it was worth the effort if it would give me more hand positions to use. He had a spare set of 3x9 trigger shifters, so he set off to get the switch done to give my hands a bit of a break.

I wasn't really sure what to expect out of the switch and had said to Sam that it might not work at all which would mean we'd be switching back to the albatross bars; but on the first little test around the neighborhood, it seemed good, great even. Suddenly, the tandem seemed stable and "right," and I wasn't having the unsteady feeling I usually get when riding it. I thought perhaps it was because I was riding it alone, but even when Sam hopped on the back to let me test it as we'd actually ride, I realized that something had dramatically changed.

It seemed insane to me that a simple handlebar could create such a difference in the way the bike felt, but here we were, having only changed those (and the shifter levers) and it felt like a completely different ride. Except for the small amount of testing around our neighborhood, our first test ride was over 50 miles, which was a little concerning having not really gone any distance with this set up.

Fortunately, the gamble paid off and as we rode, we both noticed changes very quickly. Sam commented that he felt as though the tandem was more steady, even in the stoker position, and he noted that my body position seemed to be closer to what it usually is when I ride and not as though I was driving a school bus as it had appeared with the other handlebars.

Current setup with the trekking handlebars... a world of difference!

I was enjoying having somewhere to move my hands when I needed to give them a break, and I was at ease moving my hands without feeling as though the bike would end up on the ground if I shifted positions. Strangely, I even felt as though my legs had more power. It was as though I'd been given a penalty with the other handlebars and now I'd been released to move my legs normally.

I'd thought perhaps I was imagining that I had more power until the end of the ride when we saw that we'd averaged a significantly higher speed than we had been on this bike on prior rides of the same distance/route.  It was as though the change in handlebars completely changed everything about the bike. It now behaved like a road bike and allowed me to be in a better position to use the larger muscles to push as I would naturally on a single road bike. I wasn't afraid to remove a hand or to adjust the mirror while riding because it felt steady and as though it would track forward even with one hand on the bars.

Toward the end of the ride, without even being aware of what I was doing, I intuitively stood up to pedal through a rough spot and then suddenly realized what had just happened. I had never stood up to pedal on the tandem before the handlebar change because it felt like I would lose control of the bike (honestly, even coasting and standing always gave me a bit of fright); but this was something that just happened naturally, as it would on my single bike when it was necessary and without any forethought.

I feel like a whole new world has opened up with this set up, and even Sam said he feels the change in the rear position on the bike. I would never have guessed that a simple handlebar switch would have created such a dramatic change in the way this bike rides! I keep thinking that I am disappointed that we didn't try the change months ago rather than waiting, but I am also excited that this has given us a tandem that is more in line with what we hoped to get out of the custom experience. Not only are my hands doing better being able to move around, but it has given us both more confidence and power while riding.

Over the years, we've switched out handlebars on many of my single bikes, and it's made a difference in some instances, but never have I experienced any type of change that was so dramatic as this. It's definitely been a positive difference - and something that I hadn't expected. Have you ever made a simple change to a bike that made a huge difference in the way it handled or felt?

Adventures in Urban Hiking

In a recent post, I mentioned that I've been exploring outdoor activities other than biking this spring and summer. While I enjoy riding a bicycle and I don't think anything can quite replace it when combining reliable, self-propelled transportation and speed, there are times when it's nice to try other activities.

Additionally, I'm still attempting to figure out the boundaries for my body and its injuries. While some things are obviously off the list in my mind, others seem to be more of a gray area, and these are the activities that I can undertake -- as long as I don't attempt too much at once (which isn't always as easy as it sounds).

One of these activities I have begun to call "urban hiking." Now, I know what some people are going to say... isn't that just walking? My response is both yes and no. In the sense that we can call hiking "just walking" as well. If one lives here in Colorado though, hiking is generally reserved for those who attempt the many 14ers (the term for mountain peaks that reach over 14,000 feet in elevation), but I grew up in California and we used to hike regularly and it wasn't nearly as strenuous as the elevation gain here.

Of course, one doesn't have to summit a 14er in order to call him or herself a hiker. That would be ridiculous as there are innumerable lower elevation trails, fire roads, and so on and I would still term these walking activities as hiking.

I would call this walking the dog if it was a short distance, only through residential neighborhoods, and I wasn't carrying a load on my back.

The criteria in my mind that has differentiated urban hiking from the act of simply taking a walk are the following:
* I (and sometimes the dog too) carry a backpack that contains hydration, snacks for the dog and sometimes the human too, poop bags, a towel, phone, extra leashes (if you've ever had a leash break while out, you'll understand this one), and any other necessities that we may require for our travels
* The distance must be greater than a usual just-walking-the-dog walk, which for me is currently falling between 5-7+ miles
* The hike transitions through at least three different types of areas (residential, commercial/retail, industrial, greenspace/trails, etc) and has me (or us) walking on at least two different kinds of surfaces (pavement, cement, dirt, rocks, gravel, grass, etc)
* There is at least one strenuous portion of the hike (such as a steep hill)

After hiking (For real hiking - you know, with forest-y stuff, mountains, critters and such) just recently with a friend and our dogs, I realize that the muscles used are a little different (Okay, very different, as my calves will attest) when it comes to regular hiking and urban hiking, but I also think there are some similarities - enough so that I have decided that urban hiking is an actual "thing."

On this particular day, the two of us set out for the post office. I had an item to drop in the mail (returning a pair of bib shorts for riding actually, that just didn't work out) and I figured we could make an urban hike out of it, even though the post office is only about 2 miles from home.

On our way to drop off the package, we continued through a slightly more industrial part of town. I'm always fascinated both by how close these areas are to residential portions of the city and by how much the feel changes as we move from one area to the next.

Before we were able to get too far along though, our Golden was getting pretty thirsty. Granted, she's a retriever, so she's almost always thirsty, but it was pretty hot and when her tongue starts hanging out the side of her mouth, I know it's time to find her a water source. Unfortunately, I forgot my own water (While I could use her water, she likes to lick the lids of the water bottles as I pour it out, so it didn't seem appealing at the time), and later regretted it as the sun continued to blaze. For anyone who may be curious, I usually carry about 3 liters of water (2+ for the dog, and 1/2-1 liter for me). I'm sure we lose at least half of hers on the ground as she's an entirely sloppy drinker!

Once the water was close by, the pup started pulling as she desperately wanted to swim in it.

After we dropped off the package, we found an even better water source... the river. Although it doesn't look like much in this photo, there were lots of spots to stop and let her dip her paws or outright swim in the water.

We even came across some fowl friends as we walked. The geese usually hang out near the lake and river areas of the city throughout a good portion of the year.

This gaggle didn't seem to be overly thrilled with our presence though, so they began making their escape into the water. As much as I'd have enjoyed watching our Golden swim after them, I wouldn't want to know what would happen if she caught one (I'm not sure if I'd be more concerned for her or the geese... some of the geese get pretty frantic when we get too close and start to hiss, and I definitely don't want her to kill any of them), so she begrudgingly stayed within reach.

One of the really intriguing things to me about an urban hike is getting to see so much of our city. We can go from turn-of-the-century houses to shops to trails and industrial settings all on foot over the course of relatively few miles. We can be in the shade, exposed to the sun, or switch back and forth depending on the area of the city.

What I also appreciate about urban hiking is that there is nearly always someone nearby if something should happen in regard to injury (unlike hiking in the mountains where it could be more difficult to get a rescue, if needed). I also enjoy that we can easily stop for food or water without too much disruption in our route (assuming that I've remembered my wallet, of course). We also come across others we know or don't and get to have random and interesting conversations since the pace is slower than riding a bike.

While I don't think urban hiking will be replacing regular hiking anytime soon, it's been fun to explore the city by foot instead of on two wheels and although riding a bike provides a different perspective from driving, using two feet can take things down yet another notch, providing time to really absorb my surroundings. It may not always be the most efficient means of getting around, but traveling via this manner has permitted me to appreciate both walking and biking a lot more.

Are you exploring any new-to-you outdoor activities this year or re-acquainting yourself with a past enjoyable activity? I'd love to hear all about it!

A One-Week Suburban Car-Light Experiment

"How can the auto insurance renewal be this much for six-months?" I questioned Sam as he'd just entered the house from work. I had opened the mail just moments before he'd arrived and I was appalled by the astronomical number to insure two vehicles for drivers who haven't had a ticket or accident in over 20 years.

"We're paying more to insure these two vehicles - one of the cars with liability coverage only - living in a relatively low-risk area, than I paid for my car when I was 21 and living in Los Angeles!" The renewal bill had cited some arbitrary and non-specific reasons for the increase in rates, but I just couldn't believe how much we were going to be paying.

I used to work in the auto insurance industry and I know how outraged drivers could get on the phone with me when they'd receive their bills. Now, here we were on the receiving end of one of these notices and I was not happy. Sam had offered to call our agent and see if there's anything she could do, but I knew that she was not in control of the rates and the only thing she'd likely do would be to shop other possibilities that would likely come up even higher (again, this is experience talking).

So, we sat chatting about the ever-increasing rates, and tried to think of some reasonable (and a few unreasonable) solutions. Yes, we could shop other rates (and we have done just that nearly every time the bill has come, only to discover that we'd actually be paying even higher premiums), but there had to be something we could do.

For those who have been reading here for awhile, you may recall a post written as I was approaching the end of my second (err, I guess actually third) round of post-secondary education a few years back. At that point, I thought we were going to be finding ourselves as a single-car family. We were on our way to selling our second vehicle and I was certain that things were looking brighter.

*image found here

Ultimately, we did sell the second car, eliminating that car payment, but we were not long at all without a second car. In fact, it was just about instantaneous that a second car came back into our lives. I have no one to blame but myself. Sam was entirely on board with the one-car household, but I was having reservations. I was creating possible (though highly improbable) scenarios during which we would need to have two motorized vehicles. I'll admit, I was really rather terrified of not having the back up of a second vehicle in the house.

All of this was nearly four years ago. We hadn't gone back to having two car payments, but we also haven't eliminated the second car from our home. Owning the alternate car, regardless of whether we pay a monthly amount to the bank for it, is still a second vehicle. It requires gas (assuming it's driven - which it is), maintenance, potential repairs (it's 25 years old), insurance and annual tags. It's a reliable vehicle that hasn't given us problems, but it still costs money to operate and it will, eventually, need major mechanical assistance.

As we sat talking through our frustration with the increase in auto insurance, we began again with the possibility of removing the second vehicle. There was (is) a part of me that still had that sinking feeling about the idea of giving up the perceived security of the secondary vehicle, but I had been reading about some others experiences with going to a one-car family and I realized that we could give it a try without actually selling off the car.

Instead, I suggested a one-week experiment to see how things would go. I realize a single week is not the ultimate test of this scenario, but I figured it would be enough for the random things that come up to happen and for me to determine if I really could live within this pictured future possibility.

With that, we set out to plan our one-week experiment, pretending that the other car had disappeared from our lives.

A suggestion I'd read about prior to all of this was that one of the people in the household should commit to being the 90% person. Meaning that this person is agreeing that s/he will be the one who primarily gets around on foot, by bicycle or via public transportation.

There was a small amount of debate over which of us should be that individual. Sam thought it should be him because he doesn't need the car while at work. He merely drives it to and from and then it sits all day.

In truth, I thought I should be the 90% person because I work from home, I don't have a ton of errands to run very frequently, and even though the thought of packed up snow is a little scary to me in the coming winter months, I figured I would find a way to get where I need/want to when the time arrives. After all, necessity is the mother of all invention, right?

And so, our one week experiment began. Sam drove to work and I committed to only driving if we were both home and only one vehicle was being used.

We couldn't have picked a better weather week, which was both good and bad. I appreciated that I didn't have to deal with ice (it's just not cold enough for that yet) or even rain (which I actually don't mind when riding), but instead we had pleasantly warm days in the forecast.

I also had no real plans for anything outside of the house, which meant this experiment might not actually be realistic... which made me question whether it was even worth trying.

Soon however, what appeared to be the start of a week spent at home turned into one that had me out and about quite regularly. I had a few meetings set up, I had a doctors appointment already on the books, a couple visits to the bank, and of course the random grocery and other needs that popped up throughout the week.

What I realized as I was biking to each of these meetings and appointments is that there was nothing different taking place than what normally transpires. If I'm meeting up with someone in town, I bike there. If I have an appointment (doctor or otherwise), I ride my bike. Just because there is a motorized vehicle at my disposal doesn't mean that I'm using it constantly. It was actually reassuring to know that this one-week experiment had really been something taking place for many years, and was an excellent reminder that I actually enjoy biking to my destinations.

During the week, I did have an unanticipated box that needed to be dropped off for shipment. Normally, I don't have a problem biking a package to a carrier, but this box was particularly large and unwieldy and instead of attempting to strap it down in the bike trailer and maneuver my way across town, I asked Sam to drop it for me on his way to or from work. Additionally, there is always the option to simply schedule a pick up from the carrier, rather than dropping the package myself.

Everything that needed to be done during the week was completed, and shockingly it all happened without too much disruption to normal schedules and routines.

Of course, when icy weather hits, I know there would be other challenges. I see bike commuters who ride every day (and even know a couple personally) regardless of the weather, but I am a klutz and I don't do well on ice. Snow is one thing, slick and packed ice is quite another for me. Despite our city claiming that there are roads that have cleared bike lanes every snow day, I have found the opposite to be reality. I don't think it would be impossible to overcome the winter-weather obstacles, but for me personally, I know from experience that it does mean fewer trips by bike during the icy parts of the year.

We also have two dogs. Two larger dogs - a Labrador and a Golden Retriever. Not the biggest of pets, certainly, but between the two of them they add about 140 lbs/63.5 kg to a ride should I have need or want to take them anywhere - but these days and moments do arise. It also means buying or constructing a bike or trailer (or having changeable options on the current trailer) that allows them both to fit comfortably. Again, it's not impossible, but it does require advanced planning and preparation, and likely extra funds to get everything set up.

With some planning, we could also avoid spending any extra on bikes or accessories though. In reality, if I needed use of the car, Sam could fairly easily take public transportation or even bike to work (his travel distance is about 19 mi/30.5 km one-way, so he'd probably skip the gym and use transportation as his workout), and there's also the option to have me drop him at work and he could bike the one way distance home or take the bus.

The key, from what I've learned in this, is that planning is important. Short trips repeatedly throughout the day don't work as easily when a car isn't at the ready, but it's also easy to see how many potential trips could be taken by car when I'm not really thinking things through. If I know I need to go to the post office, the grocery store, pick up dog food, and I have a meeting, when riding I seem to be much better about time management and arranging things so they fall in line with completion one after another. If I have an automobile at my disposal, it's a lot easier to forget about better or more careful planning.

I think time is sometimes a poor excuse for not riding as well. It is true that on longer distances a car will win just about every time (assuming that there isn't a backlog of traffic on the roads), but for short-distance needs (let's say under a few miles), two wheels really don't take much time out of the day, and parking spots can often be easier to find on a bike than in a motorized vehicle. I am guilty of often allowing far too much time to ride a distance than I really need, but getting more accustomed to how fast one travels really does help cut down on lost minutes (or hours if you're particularly worried) in a day. In reality, it can actually be far more convenient to ride a bike than to drive a car.

Bike maintenance and repair is important to keep up on as well, particularly when it is the main mode of transportation. Having reliable tires is super important to me personally (I don't want to deal with flats around town when I'm dressed for an event or on my way to a meeting), but there are other parts that need maintenance and checking too. Chains need regular lubing and they don't last forever. Bikes should be tuned on a regular schedule too. Riding and realizing that the derailleur isn't shifting properly (or won't shift at all) likely isn't something a rider wants to deal with in a suit or skirt on the side of the road. Even having a back up bike to use is nice insurance for those times when I'm in a hurry and don't have time to deal with last minute issues too.

I will admit that this may not be the ideal situation for everyone. We have some things that make this potentially work for us that others may not. The first of these items is that I don't have to leave the house very often. Working from home allows me the opportunity to focus entirely on work, if I choose, rather than venturing out; but we've also grown used to the reality that I have a flexible schedule, which means that if something can or needs to be done during the week, I am likely the one to complete it. I fully admit that not everyone has this sort of flexibility, and that for some, it may actually mean that the person at home may be the individual who requires the automobile over the one commuting.

For many, there are two adults in the home who commute to a job every day. In this case, it may mean that one takes public transportation or bikes to work rather than using a car. It also means figuring out who that individual will be or deciding some sort of predetermined schedule each week.

Our city is set up fairly conveniently for a suburban location, and we live about as centrally in our town as one could. While not many destinations are walkable from home, most of what we need in our household is located within a few miles. Grocery stores, gyms, banks, doctors, post office, shopping, and so on are all reasonably reached by bicycle, and sometimes even on foot. The furthest one-way distance I would need to travel regularly is approximately 4 miles, which is pretty easily bike-able for many. Additionally, we have nearby cities that could be reached by bicycle or public transportation when needed (they range from 15-20 mi/24-32km in distance).

We also don't have children (at least not the two-legged, human variety). For some, this may bring another aspect to consider. While I believe encouraging children to ride to school, to activities, and to see friends should be encouraged, some may not feel confident on their own, particularly depending on the child's age and skill level. It may mean riding with him/her to his/her destination until s/he is comfortable on their own, or possibly that the adult transporting the kids uses the motorized transportation with more regularity than the other.

This experiment left me with much to consider. We can afford both of our vehicles: the fuel, insurance, tags, and so on (even though we complain about it), but do we need two cars? I have to admit, it's a nice luxury to have a second motorized vehicle because there are days when I do need or want to leave town, and while biking longer distances is possible, there is also the reality that it takes a larger chunk of the day to get 15-20 mi/24-32 km by bicycle than it does to travel a few miles locally. There are options for this possibility too though, such as an electric bike or even covered electric bikes like this, but these require a significant initial investment as well - a cost that would not be covered simply by selling off our second, multi-decade old car.

At this point, I don't know if we will keep the second car or bid it farewell. Despite my real-world knowledge and experience and knowing that I will continue to make most of my travels by bicycle, there is a disturbing amount of comfort in knowing that a second car is available, whether I use it or not. On one hand, it's a nice back up plan, but on the other it feels a bit wasteful and unnecessary. I think the planned experiment was a good indicator that we could make this work if we choose, but it becomes a question of whether or not to truly move forward in this direction.

Do you live a car-free or car-light life? What type of city (rural, urban, suburban) do you live in? What has been your experience with using your own body power to get around (or public transportation)? If you aren't car-free or car-light, would you consider this as an option in your household? What ideas do you have for making this type of life realistic for you and your family?

A Custom Bicycle (Part 2): George Washington or Benedict Arnold

If you missed the first part of this post and would like to get caught up, you can find it here. Otherwise, feel free to carry on to part two below.

I was starting to think I was crazy, and that I'd spread my insanity to Sam. Had he just fed into my thoughts of what had been happening? I know that if anything he is a very sound and reasonable person, so odds are he'd sway in favor of the bike being fine and just needing some adjustments, but he seemed to be just as frustrated with his findings as I'd been with riding the bike over the weeks prior.

Expecting that we would experience a ride similar to the Crown Jewel - at least generally speaking in reference to set-up, we went to a bike shop to test a version of my former carbon road bike (my bike would be a now nearly 4-year old version, so we'd have to find the closest match). I couldn't recall with any kind of great accuracy the sensations I had while riding that bike any longer, but I remembered feeling fast and not weighted. Now, I simply wanted to know if I had invented an experience that never existed, or if it really was that I am simply not in the shape I was last summer.

I took the test bike out first, and over some very rough terrain - rougher than anything I ride on the roads locally. The road had huge gaps, cracks and potholes and was covered with chipseal, so I knew it would be an equivalent, or even worse than the rough roads I ride. What I noticed almost immediately was that I didn't feel any of the roughness or rattling like I had on the Crown Jewel. The ride felt soft - not noodle-like or squishy - but it wasn't hurting, and I could actually climb to get up a hill without feeling as though I was going to wipe out and my energy was going toward something that propelled me forward. It was all very confusing and I thought that certainly I was inventing all of this in my head, so I went back to the starting point to let Sam have a try. I said nothing to him and let him set out to make his own evaluation.

When Sam returned he said, "It feels like your old bike - easy to ride and it doesn't cause pain. I can actually pick up speed when I'm on it." He shook his head and said, "Honestly, I really didn't expect to feel such a huge difference between them, but it is more than obvious that something isn't right with the IndyFab."

I had to try it again. I got back on and rode through a shorter version of my earlier test and came to the same conclusion. While this bike was in desperate need of a tuning (it was definitely not shifting well), and it wasn't set up quite properly for me, there was no denying it had a completely different feel than the Crown Jewel. We left, scratching our heads and still thinking that there must be something wrong about the setup on the CJ at home.

An experimental ride with the IndyFab Crown Jewel during a stop off to see Sam at work.

After some reading, we thought the tires I'd chosen for the Crown Jewel were too harsh and perhaps causing some of the rattling that was ringing through my body while riding. We put the softer Schwalbe Durano tires I've had on prior bikes on the IndyFab and decided to give that a try to see if it would dampen some of the road vibrations I was feeling. After all, if we take things one problem at a time, perhaps we could figure out a solution for the whole bike.

During the research, we also discovered the possibility that the wheels on the bike could be causing the heavy/dragging/weighted sensation. I questioned this possibility as the wheels had worked fine on the prior carbon bike without issue. Additionally, when spun freely, there didn't seem to be any kind of drag or stopping taking place. Would I have to replace the wheels in order to really find out?

The next day, I decided to do a direct, back-to-back experiment with the Crown Jewel and the Hillborne. I took the CJ on a 25 mile ride, followed by the exact same ride on the Hillborne. I intentionally took the CJ first because I knew I'd be fresher and ready to take on the ride. If anything, this would give the Crown Jewel an advantage, and since it was currently at a disadvantage, I wanted to give it all I could to stand a chance.

To put it bluntly, the CJ ride did not go well. I had to stop multiple times over the first 12 miles just to get the numbness in my hands to stop. While riding, other people passed me on bicycles as though I was standing still, and while that is often the case for me, I could feel the effort I was putting in, and yet, there was nothing I could do to prevent them from easily zipping by. I was tired by the time I rode the Hillborne, and definitely in pain from the Crown Jewel, but I somehow still managed to travel more easily - even being on a bicycle that outweighs the CJ by at least 15 pounds.

Sam had given up. He stated his opinion as simply as he could when he advised me to give up on this Crown Jewel and get something that would actually ride properly for me. Yes, it would be difficult to lose the money and mentally painful as I had picked out what I wanted, but it was insane in his mind to continue to try to adapt something that apparently wasn't resolvable.  As difficult as it was, I was starting to swing to his side. In fact, as I'd been riding the Crown Jewel during my experiment, all I could think about was being done with the ride - the exact opposite of what I would hope for in a bicycle. I want to want to ride. I don't want to dread being on my bike or make excuses as to why I'm not out using it.

Looking over the information that had finally been e-mailed to me by the bike shop, I realized that the top tube had been made more than two centimeters shorter than I typically ride. I know they had concerns about my weak and damaged hand/wrist, but I had explicitly stated that what I'd been riding was working fairly well with some small exceptions. Why would they randomly change this - and particularly without telling me? It just seemed like a dramatic change and I couldn't help but wonder if this was playing a role in many of the issues I was experiencing.

One of the biggest issues with this custom build is that I wasn't speaking to Independent Fabrication myself. Instead, I was going through a mediator - the local bike shop - and who knows what information was given to whom, and how that information was being interpreted. In that moment, I wished more than anything that I'd selected a company I could speak to directly, rather than playing this game of telephone - for which I seemed to be using a tin can with no string attached. It's a horrible realization to suddenly comprehend that because the bike shop determined that I didn't need to know any of the actual measurements, I was now potentially left with a bike I couldn't use.

I felt all sorts of emotions. I was angry - both at the LBS and myself. I was frustrated - because it felt like there was nothing I could do to resolve any of this. I felt stupid - for having thought that a custom bike was the answer I'd been waiting for all this time. I was in pain - literally from all the weeks - and now months - of riding something that just wasn't right. I was feeling all sorts of craziness and it was difficult to put it into words that weren't laced with profanity.

E-bay searches were quite common for about a week or so. I wanted to know what prices others were getting for their IndyFab's. I had passed the stage of caring what happened with this bike and just needed to know how much money we were going to lose. My searches were a bit eye-opening. It was easy to see that I would be lucky to get half of the cost back I'd spent on the frame and fork. Selling the bike whole wouldn't provide much more return, and with that thought, I was left to ponder whether I was really prepared to give up on this bike.

As we discussed the issues taking place with the CJ and the potential loss, Sam reiterated that he was perfectly fine with losing some money, as long as I got a bike that would work for me. In my frustration, I agreed that the Crown Jewel was not working  - however, in the back of my mind, I still couldn't stand the idea of giving up on it. I'm a bit hard-headed with certain things and this seemed to be my current fixation, but I agreed that I probably needed to look at something else.

People - friends, family, and even occasional passers-by would ask about the Crown Jewel. Those who knew me wanted to know how it was working and if I was still happy with my decision to get a custom bike. Honestly, I never knew how to respond. While I wasn't sorry about the actual act of working on a custom bike, and I wouldn't discourage anyone from moving forward with their own, I was really struggling many days to find the good in this new bike. My responses were always vague and non-committal. What else could I do at this point? I wasn't ready to bash the bike or its manufacturer because some small part of me still believed it was possible to get it to a place that worked. I know how finicky I am about bike set up and maybe this was just part of the process, even if it seemed like it should be going more smoothly.

The next decision was to try switching out the wheels on the bike. We had another set that were of supposed lower quality from a past build that had since been parted, but maybe it would make a difference. The wheels were supposed to be heavier, so I was doubtful it was going to improve the situation, but when trying to find solutions, it's better to give all avenues a try, rather than stubbornly avoid something.

At least the summer wetness left us with beautiful greens that lasted much longer than is typical.

As much as I believed there was no way the wheels were going to make any difference, they in fact made a change to the bike - enough that the Crown Jewel felt rideable - for at least very short distances - without causing me to break down in tears on the side of the road. We'd also switched the stem again, and put a different (though exactly the same model) saddle on the bike (this saddle has more miles on it, so it's a bit softer in feel than the previous one). This particular outing was better than many I'd been on with the CJ and I was glad to feel that the wheels did seem to resolve some of the problems. A lesson to be learned - no matter how expensive a set of wheels, it doesn't necessarily mean they are the best.

Of course, the wheels didn't fix or lessen all of the problems, and the twitchiness still remained. I figured this was merely something I would have to make peace with because even the longer stem we'd switched to wasn't entirely helping. The extreme hand problems seemed to have slightly lessened, which was great, but they were still present to greater or lesser extent, depending on the day/ride/route. In part, some of the pain may have been caused by the wheels, but I think it was also the roads I chose to ride (which are often chipseal and/or full of large holes) and the fact that I wasn't giving my body a break between experiments/rides. I also believed some of this was due to the reach on the bike.

One day I decided to just go on a quick spin in every day clothing - no gloves or padded anything - just to see how I felt. I wanted to pay particular attention to anything that seemed odd or out of place. I didn't take a GPS because I didn't care how fast or far I was going. I just wanted to know if there was any possible resolution. The things that were almost immediately noticeable:

1) The pressure on my hands was greater than almost any other road bike I've owned. This would explain (at least in part) why my hands go numb quickly into rides.

2)  I found myself wanting to move my hands back from the hoods about 2 inches. When they were sitting on the hoods, I had no bend in my elbow, which I know can create problems as well. This caused me to think that even though the top tube is shorter than other bikes I've had, the reach was somehow too far (I'm sure adding a longer stem hadn't helped matters).

3) When I'd scoot my rear end closer to the handlebars, I could avoid the "stretched" feeling, but then my knees felt as though they were going far too forward over the pedals. When I moved back to a proper pedaling position, the arm/hand issues began again.

Even though I traveled a fairly short distance on that ride, it was evident that there are flaws in this build for me that I wasn't sure could be resolved. We thought about a shorter stem (which we'd already done), but it had made the bike even more twitchy and it hadn't seemed to resolve the numbness either. The seatpost has a very small amount of setback, so we pondered putting a zero-set back seatpost on the bike, but I thought that would only result in the same pedaling issues I had during my experiment and would definitely affect power when riding.

I was fairly convinced that the numbers on the areas with purple arrows were the major contributing factors to my problems

Overall, the fit on the bike had improved somewhat from our initial days and weeks together, but I was not at all prepared to say that it was perfect (or even close - or for that matter workable) at this juncture. After reviewing (yet again) all of the measurements that had been sent, we realized that the reach seemed wrong. On prior bikes, this measurement had been several centimeters less, but I wasn't sure if it was that number alone or that number and other angles/measurements combined. It seemed strange that the actual top tube could be much shorter, yet the reach was so much longer. Something was wrong, I was sure.

At this point, it is more than safe to say I was disillusioned about the custom frame process. As of that moment, I couldn't state with certainty that it was worth the cost to have my own frame built. Many of the problems I had prior to the build persisted, and while I didn't fault IndyFab or the LBS for this entirely, I had serious doubts as to whether any custom frame would make enough of a difference to ever try this again. The problem is that the only way to really know would be to have another go-round, and I knew I was not prepared for that option (financially, physically, or emotionally).

I also had a couple of regrets as far as my decisions during the process of the build (again, these were my decisions, and not the fault of anyone but me). I wished that I had purchased a matching steel fork and that I'd had the frame built with eyelets for fenders and racks. As time progresses, who could know what I may want to do with the bike? While it's possible to attach racks by other add-on means, it would've been nice to have a bike with a top tube that isn't too long (eg: the Hillborne) for longer sorts of rides... but, at the time, my purposes for this bike were not focused in that regard. I'm not sure any of this would've mattered anyway, as the fit for my proportions just didn't seem to be working.

There are times when I really beat myself up (not literally, of course, because I'm not some crazy Jim Carrey wannabe), but it's hard not to think back on some of the things I do and wonder where it all went wrong and why I seem to make such bad decisions. IndyFab is not a poor choice for a custom build, and in fact they have a great company with lots and lots of very satisfied customers, but it was the wrong choice for me at that moment in time. As I wallowed a bit in my self-deprecating thoughts, I had to regroup and figure this out.

At this point, the IndyFab was being dismantled. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it after my final attempt to see if I could make it work. I had gone on another short ride after my plain-clothes test and returned home with aching hands and other various problems. As I had headed out on that ride, I thought to myself that this was the Washington vs Arnold test and there would be no turning back. When I returned and uploaded the ride, I titled it Benedict Arnold it is then, and decided at that moment that as much as I didn't want to give up on the CJ, the bike had won and I wasn't willing to sacrifice feeling in my extremities because I was crippled from pain.

It was a tough day to watch as the bike was taken apart. I felt as though I had failed in this attempt to find something that really would work. I was upset because I knew I had talked Sam into letting me do this and now it was a gigantic failure. He was angry, and I was back and forth between tears one moment and anger the next. Suffice it to say, it was not a good time for us. I knew Sam didn't blame me for it, but it was hard not to take on the guilt from such an expense and feel completely responsible for its demise.

Sam was encouraging me to go and try out bikes again locally. We went one weekend and I rode a few different models that were similar to bikes I've owned in the past. I wanted a road bike again that was at least somewhat comfortable to ride because summer was screaming by and I knew I didn't have much time left to get in longer rides. However, I wasn't ready to make a decision based on what I'd tried in the local bike shops. Something inside me knew I had to go back to the start and take another look at my options.

One day as I sat pondering all of this mess I decided, with much trepidation, to type a couple of notes to bike builders. I honestly wasn't sure what I was doing or why I was even bothering to try to get answers from someone else, but I knew that it was important to figure this out. Bicycles are a huge part of my life and not having the one bike that allows me to put in more miles was causing a lot of anguish. Frankly, I don't know what I expected out of the e-mails. Perhaps I was looking for some validation, or maybe I just needed to believe that it was possible to find something that would work. Not really knowing what would come from it, I sent the notes off to builders who I thought might be able to offer some input.

This will be the stopping point for round two of this tale. I'm fairly certain I can get the rest of the thoughts up in the last of this series very soon.

Part 3 can be found by clicking here.

A Custom Bicycle (Part 1): When Excitement and Frustration Collide

I feel I must preface this post with a bit of a deep breath. I'm always happy to share my personal experiences with a bicycle, but this has been one I've tried to keep to myself for at least a small amount of time because I really needed to work through some things. I've had a number of requests to share more about the IndyFab and how it's gone thus far for me, so I suppose I'm caving a bit in that respect.  Believe me, it isn't that I haven't wanted to provide additional information, but sometimes time allows things to be resolved (although sometimes it doesn't), and what might feel like an enormous trouble initially can turn into something surprisingly small in the rear view mirror. I'd hate to start rambling about something early on, only to find that it was easily solved down the road. The time has come to share more, however, and with that said, I've been keeping notes along the way so that hopefully it will provide a realistic re-telling of what has happened. It's a long story and I don't want to overwhelm anyone, so it is probably going to be split up into multiple parts (apologies in advance to those looking for a full-dumping of the story here and now). But with that, here we go...

In July, I wrote about a custom bicycle that had been built by Independent Fabrication for me via a local bike shop. That post had more to do with the actual experience of the build than information about the bicycle, so I figured it would only be fair to write a bit more about the bicycle and the experience after a small bit of time has elapsed. My goal here is not to provide every single small detail since obtaining the bike, but to hit upon some of the points that have seemed important along the way, or that at least provide a bit more of the story.

Prior to receiving the new bike, I had been debating for about a year and a half as to whether or not it would be wise to move forward with a custom frame (and contemplating-from-a-distance the idea of a custom even longer). After lots of back and forth and chatting with potential builders (or representatives for builders), I opted to go with Independent Fabrication. I was also unsure as to whether I wanted to try out titanium or stick with the material I have known to suit me well: steel. Ultimately, after some convincing from the local bike shop owner and the realization that our budget would handle it a little easier, I opted to go with the material I've known to work in the past.

My first ride on the Crown Jewel was a distance of 40+ miles. I wanted to know how it would feel on something longer than a few miles of testing, so it made sense to try it out over a more substantial distance. When I returned home, I was a bit fatigued, but I was still on the high of having a new bicycle. I had mentioned to Sam that there were likely some adjustments that needed to be done, but I was still happy and overall I was pleased with the bike. It hadn't been my fastest average as far as speed, but I knew I was just testing things out, so I wasn't overly concerned. I'd completed a climb that I never enjoy, though it had been on the difficult side, and I was confident that things were going to be great.

I didn't ride the CJ for another eight days after that initial ride though, other than to quickly test parts that were being adjusted. I was riding, but I kept choosing my heavier, slower, steel bike (the Hillborne). At the time, I honestly couldn't exactly explain why I kept opting for the Hillborne instead of the new lighter bike. I was just enjoying the feel of the Hillborne and I wasn't ready to dive into dealing with the Crown Jewel because I knew there were some things that needed to be addressed. I assumed my choice to ride the Hillborne had something to do with the fact that when I'm on a lighter bike, I find it more challenging to just enjoy riding. It can feel like a race or a challenge to see what I can do and frankly, I was happy doing my slightly slower rides on the Hillborne. I wasn't prepared to commit to "working" on riding.

On that eighth day though, I decided I had to actually ride the CJ. I couldn't keep ignoring it as though it wasn't there. We'd spent a lot of money to get this bike ready for me to ride, and I'd lost a lot of my training season on bikes that were attempting to substitute for a lighter road bike. I set out with the intention of doing somewhere between 40-50 miles. I had a sort of plan in my head as to where I was going and told myself to just enjoy it. I ended up setting 3 personal time records and received a QOM (Queen of the Mountain) on Strava over a quick section on a local road. However, I only completed 22 miles of my planned ride. I'd averaged a pretty decent pace (for me), but I was beat and there was no way I was going to get in another 20 miles that day. I was also still having foot problems, hand pain, and I just couldn't seem to find a position to actually get any power on the bike.

I kept telling myself that it was me. I knew I hadn't done the time in the saddle I had during previous summers, and I just needed to make more adjustments. The thing is, when I'd received my custom bike, part of me truly just wanted everything to be right from the get-go. I didn't want to have to put in time and effort to get things to a place that worked. Why couldn't it just work right straight out of the gate? In reality, I could see that it was a starting point, but there was definitely some work in front of me to be completed. I kept reminding myself not to be a wimp about this and to suck it up and do what needed to be done. On the rides to follow, I would focus on what was happening so that I could attempt to explain the issues and find resolution.

A couple of days later, I got back out on the CJ. This time, there was a storm rolling in, so I knew I wouldn't get very far before I'd probably need to head home. While I don't mind getting rained on, I'm not a fan of lightning and thunder storms, so I knew it would have to be another short ride. I went to climb one of my least favorite hills, knowing that the return trip would be fast and downhill. I had one of my worst average times in quite some time on any bike, but I was starting to really understand the things that weren't quite working with this bike.

One of the things that really bothered me was that the front end of the bike felt twitchy and kind of scary. Every time I'd reach for a water bottle, I'd feel as though I was going to lose all control. My hands were absolutely killing me at the end of a ride and were numb beyond belief. I expect this somewhat when it comes to my "bad" hand, but even the good side was having a lot of trouble. I also noticed that I just felt heavy and slow and went back to blaming myself and my body for its failure to cooperate with what I wanted to get done. It's difficult not to get down on myself when there seems to be so many problems taking place. My feet were also continuing to go numb on every ride, but I'd told myself that this was likely due to back issues that have gone unresolved.

My next venture out was with a local friend. She was looking for someone to ride with and even though I was pretty beat up, I thought it would be nice to actually have someone to talk to for a bit. I warned her that I wouldn't make it very far and that it wouldn't be fast, but I was up for some time together. As we rode, we chatted about the Crown Jewel. She mentioned that it looked really great and appeared to fit me well. We also spoke about her potential desire to have a custom bike built. I told her I'd be happy to send her a link to some information, and our conversation continued on in this manner for the 25 miles we rode together. What she didn't realize is how much effort I was putting forth during our ride. I had shared that I was tired, but even when I'm not exactly up to par in regard to energy, I've often put out some of my fastest cycling times. That would not be the case on this particular ride. No matter how hard I struggled to go faster, I just couldn't make it happen. I apologized several times during the ride for being slow, while she simply smiled and said I was doing fine. I knew better though.

Routinely on these rides I had been experiencing somewhere between 1-2 miles average per hour slower (sometimes even more), and it didn't seem to matter if they were shorter or longer distances. Yet, I felt as though I was putting forth all I had in my tank. I returned to the self-bashing, insisting that my body was failing me. I try so hard not to go in this direction, but when my body appears to be the problem, I can't help but think it's the engine failing to keep up.

We had been having some conversations in our household regarding not having seen the specs for the CJ frame. During the process of having the frame built, I'd been told that I would receive a kind of cut sheet of what they planned to do before it would be done, but that never happened. I was a little miffed about this because I thought it was crucial to get this information myself before any welding or cutting actually began, but I let it go, assuming that others who are experts would know better than me. I also never received any kind of information about the geometry or measurements when I picked up the bike. At the time, I was so deliriously happy to have the bike that the thought hadn't struck me as important, but as time was moving forward, I really wanted to know what they had decided was going to work for me. Besides that, it's always good to have measurements for a bike for future use. I went by the bike shop and asked if they could get me the information. It wasn't readily available, but they said they'd work on e-mailing it to me.

I continued to ride on my own and occasionally with other cyclists, and at home we kept making adjustments to the bike. Sam was convinced that the stem was too short and replaced it with a 20mm longer version. It seems like a big jump, but it was what we had sitting around, so we thought it was worth a try. Sam moved my saddle too (which always seems to be a big no-no for me, but I was game for anything at this point). At various points we moved the stem up and down as well.

My riding was continuing to progress as far as distance is concerned, but it wasn't happening on the Crown Jewel. I was still finding myself choosing the Hillborne over the lighter bike and it was frustrating me. In reality, I was so tired of being in pain that the thought of going on another "test ride" to see what would happen on the CJ was not something I wanted to do. I was riding the CJ, but I did my best to keep the rides around 20 miles to not inflict any more pain than necessary.

Six days before I was supposed to participate in a local organized charity ride, I was really sick. However, I knew I needed to put in a longer ride on the Crown Jewel if I had any intention of riding it a few days later. I pulled myself together and managed a 53-mile ride that day on the CJ. I was so out of it on this ride that I hardly paid attention to anything that seemed wrong with the bike. I figured if I could make it through that distance while ill, there was no reason I couldn't do a similar distance when I felt better. Unfortunately, the sickness progressed and I actually experienced a worse version of being ill the day of the ride. I did complete the event, but it was slow and a bit painful at times. I chalked all of it up to being ill. The bike did better than I'd expected, which I suspected had to do with the change out to a longer stem, but it was hard for me to notice much of anything as I coughed and wheezed my way through most of the ride. The good that came from it, however, was that I truly believed this bike was getting to a point that was improving. If I could ride this distance on it, there must be hope.

One weekend morning, Sam wanted us to go on a ride together. I was feeling bad about the reality that the summer had consisted of a lot of pretty horrible rides together. Ninety percent of our rides had involved me whining about something that was hurting - and this had all started prior to even obtaining the IndyFab - but it hadn't seemed to improve after its arrival either. I have admitted several times to Sam that I've been exhausted by the time the weekend comes around, and the idea of going for any length of ride by weeks' end was low on my list of priorities.

On this particular day, we decided to go on a shorter ride of about 25 miles. As we got going, I knew things weren't great, but I wanted us to be able to ride together. Summer is short and I wanted to take advantage of the time we had with nicer weather. As we rode, I just couldn't stop the pain from coming. At about 8 miles in, I had to pull off to the side of the road. I mentioned to Sam that maybe he should just go on without me, and I'd meet up with him on the return trip since I didn't seem to be able to get any sort of momentum or speed and the pain shooting through my hands was becoming unbearable. He wanted to stick things out together though, so we continued on.

By the time we returned home, Sam was mad about the pain I was having. I had been frustrated and at times angry, but it was disturbing to see him so upset about something I was going through. He decided he was going to take the Crown Jewel for a ride and see if he could reach any conclusions from his perspective. It may seem a bit strange to do this, but we often ride each others' bikes for comparison purposes. Sam is acutely aware of my patterns of likes and dislikes, pain-free and painful positioning, and proper geometry for my bicycles. When something is off for me, he seems to be able to tell almost immediately when he rides, despite the fact that we prefer different setups. He returned from his test with a variety of thoughts.

First, he believed that we are capable of resolving anything. This gave me hope. There have been plenty of bikes in my past that seemed completely off and yet we were able to execute solutions to get a given bike to a point that was at least tolerable -- and this bike was made specifically for me, so there definitely should be solutions to everything taking place.

He also found that there were a variety of issues happening. He could feel the rattling sensation through his entire body from the road, and his hands - which are normally pain-free and strong - were aching (and they'd continue to hurt days after this short trial ride). The front end of the bike seemed twitchy to him, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to get any momentum going on the bike. He'd even taken the CJ up one of the short neighborhood hills he likes to race up and discovered that he just didn't have the momentum or ability to stand to power through to the top as he normally would. He's done that hill on much heavier bikes (and bettered his own records on them in fact), but there was just something "off" about the Crown Jewel.

Although there is more to come, we'll leave off here for now. Part two can be find by clicking here.

Aluminium, Carbon, Steel, Titanium: Does Bicycle Frame Material Matter?

While I know that most of us who will come upon this post are in no way experts on the subject, I am hoping to have a bit of a discussion about frame material and its affect or lack thereof on ride quality when it comes to bicycles. Because most of us are not experts (myself included), I don't know that we can put too much stock in the information, but I am interested to know what others have experienced and it's nice to be able to have a chat in a manner that is understandable to more than a few. Often I find myself overwhelmed when I get deep into this topic, but let's give it a try and hope for the best.

I have read up and spoke to a variety of individuals on this topic over the years and I thought I had a clear grasp on the subject, but after reading some forum posts recently (which I do realize can only be taken with a grain of salt) and having some personal experiences of my own, I am a bit perplexed. So, I am hoping that if this subject is of importance or interest to someone else or if there is a person who does have experience with one or more of the frame materials you will chime in and offer up your thoughts or potentially your expertise on the matter.

To begin, I will offer what has become my understanding of the basic qualities of a few frame materials - but again, I am no expert and only have information that has been shared with me (or that I've experienced myself), so if something seems off, please provide your input below.

Aluminium:
- Provides a stiff ride
- Can be made fairly lightweight
- It is strong
- Cost: it is less expensive to produce an aluminium frame making it a more monetarily palatable option
- Moldable material
- Can last longer than some other materials, but can also get stress fractures if over-built or not built properly
- Doesn't rust over time
- Is repairable, but it is more difficult and therefore more expensive than some materials
- Less expensive than steel, carbon, or titanium
- Can be harsher on rough roads

Carbon Fiber:
- Stiffer ride than some other materials
- Lightweight material
- It is strong
- Strength and stiffness can vary from one manufacturer to another and depends on the design
- Cost: it is more expensive to produce making it a more expensive alternative (especially for a custom build)
- Highly moldable material - can be made into just about any shape desired
- Doesn't rust as steel will over time
- It is potentially repairable, but it is highly expensive and may end up looking as though it has been repaired
- More expensive option than aluminium or steel
- Offers dampening qualities that aluminium may not provide
- Material quality can vary significantly, creating very different results, and potentially fractures/cracks over time
- May not last as long as steel, aluminium or titanium

Steel:
- Provides a softer ride due to flex in material (comfortable), but has a "livelier" feel
- Can be heavier or lighter weight, but has been traditionally considered a "heavier" material (this has changed as lighter weight steel has become available)
- It is strong
- Cost: it is a less expensive material
- More durable material over time
- Can rust if not properly cared for
- Is highly repairable, making it one of the easier frames to fix if there is a crack or fracture
- May have too much flex for some riders
- Probably the most economical choice of material overall (because it is less expensive and easier to repair)
- Could potentially last a lifetime

Titanium:
- Stiff, but shock absorbing
- Can be made lighter in weight
- It is strong
- Cost: it is a more expensive material (one of the two most expensive described here)
- Durable material, but it is not unbreakable
- Can corrode
- Is repairable, but like carbon can be extremely expensive
- More expensive option than aluminium or steel - an potentially than carbon, depending on the manufacturer
- Quality of ride can depend on how it was made, weight of rider vs tubing, etc
- Can potentially be smooth, stable, and responsive
- Longevity is probably somewhere between aluminium and steel

Recently, I have come upon some ideas that conclude perhaps frame material has little or nothing to do with the overall ride quality one experiences on a bicycle. That in fact the items that really matter are:
- Tire choice
- Geometry of frame
- Saddle selection
This information was shared by a former frame builder (and a few other places as well) who believes that potentially any of the frame materials mentioned above can feel just the way a rider wants them to feel. That more of the actual ride quality is based on these three components rather than frame material itself.

Of the four materials listed above, I have never ridden titanium, so my experience with it is non-existent. However, I can say that based on my experiences with the other three materials, there may be something to the idea that frame material is of far less consequence than frame geometry, tires and saddle.

I was once under the strong belief that I would never in a million years be able to ride an aluminium bicycle for any kind of distance. I believed that the "rattle-factor" would be too much for my ailments and always chose to skip over this as an option for a road bike. When I obtained an aluminium road bike and was able to ride it on a 100-mile ride, I began to question everything I'd believed to be true in the past. I had owned other aluminium bikes prior to that one and they'd just been far too much for me to deal with. I'd always return home shaken and in pain. Then, when this "miracle" happened, I couldn't quite wrap my head around what exactly had taken place.

A similar, although a bit opposite, experience has happened with steel too. I had always believed that steel would be the smoothest, most comfortable ride possible. Every steel bicycle I have owned, whether heavier or lighter in weight, was the easiest for me to ride without pain. Then, a steel bicycle happened along that left me with some of the most debilitating pain I've experienced from riding a bike. The bike was seemingly the proper size and geometry like all of the others, but somehow, no matter what was done to it, I was left with lingering effects for days. Much like my surprise findings of comfort with the aluminium bicycle, I was perplexed by the harshness of this steel bicycle.

In my experience, I have ridden comfortable, fast, and easy to ride bicycles in aluminium, carbon fiber, and steel, just as I have had the opposite experiences. It causes me a bit of pause when I really stop to think about it, and thus my query to you. I know that there are lovers of all the different materials available, and I'm not trying to convince anyone that material makes absolutely no difference in the feel of a bicycle, but I am curious to know what you think about this idea. What have your experiences been and how have they affected your decisions to date? Have you had any rides that were opposite of your knowledge base?

Edited to add note: If you're looking for a different perspective on a related topic, check out Velovoice's thoughts on geometry, fit and ride quality.

Losing Weight on Vacation

Our intended two week vacation turned into a much shorter round than anticipated, and we ended up being gone a total of 7 days. I was actually pleased to be returning earlier than we'd thought because I knew it would allow me to get back in to my routine of working out multiple times a day and eating better. Oh, the eating! Why does everyone seem to want to feed us on vacation? Every stop we make seems to include a meal, and rarely does it include options that offer anything remotely low in calories.

What I cannot seem to figure out is that every time I go on vacation, I lose weight. It's perplexing to say the least because on most vacations, I don't work out (or, it's extremely limited), and I'm eating high sodium, high calorie items for most meals, and very seldom getting the water intake that I need, yet somehow, weight comes off. This has happened for years, regardless of how well I was eating before leaving on a trip. I've tried to factor in that there is usually a bit of walking around to touristy sorts of locations, but surely it's not burning as many calories as intense cardio/weight workouts?

If we go on the premise that in order to lose 1 pound an individual must restrict/burn 3,500 calories, I would have had to have burned 7,000 extra calories in the 7 days away in order to drop the two pounds I lost. I have to admit that I was not great about logging calories while on vacation simply because I have no idea what is in many of the foods, how they are cooked, how much oil, etc is being used, but I can take a good guess that calories are definitely more than I would normally eat, and most certainly consist of foods that I consider to be once-in-a-great-while type of items. When I punch in my guesses for the foods and their preparation, this is how calories show:

Day 1: 2,199 calories
Day 2: 2,891 calories
Day 3: 2,044 calories
Day 4: 1,773 calories
Day 5: 1,742 calories
Day 6: 2,134 calories
Day 7: 2,204 calories
Total for week: 14,987
Average daily: 2,141

I should mention that we did specifically set out to work out a few times while we were gone. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday (days 2, 4, 6), we did a 30-40 minute circuit work out to attempt to counter act some of the food madness that was taking place. Although the calories consumed don't seem that outrageous considering I ate very few meals in a controlled environment, it's still more than I would consume normally when I am working out daily...about 400 calories more on average a day. This may not seem like much, but considering the drop in working out, it is significant. I also felt incredibly bloated upon return, so despite the fact that I lost weight, I was not feeling tops about myself.

Trying to determine why I lost at all, leaves me scratching my head. First of all, I did, oh, about 1/8 of the normal work outs I would get in during a typical week (not even including riding my bike). I did attempt to make some reasonable choices much of the time, but even when choosing a gardenburger over some meat alternative (which I would normally do anyway since I'm not a cow-eater), I still ate french fries, potato chips, or onion rings with it, only adding to the fat/calories.

I do have theories though as to how/why this happened.
1) This is all a fluke. The fact that it is only a 1 week time period makes it difficult to say certainly what happens during this short time away. Perhaps if I continued to eat like this, I would ultimately end up gaining.
2) My body really does need more calories in order to lose weight - even more than what I thought initially. I was working out far less than normal and eating more, yet somehow I dropped 2 lbs (for the record, this loss was not just restricted to me, as Sam also dropped 1.5 lbs).
3) I'm burning more calories than I think on vacation. The fact that while on vacation we tend to walk around and see things more than we would at home could be helping to keep the extra calories from adding up to extra pounds.
4) Like many other times when I seem to randomly drop pounds, there is some mysterious combination of activity and food taking place.
5) Lacking the normal stresses of everyday life, my body finally relaxes and just does what it needs to do. I wasn't focused on or stressed about what or when I was going to eat, it just happened organically.

My problem with this being a complete fluke is that it happens every time we go on vacation. I joke about it when we're getting ready to leave by stating that I'm excited to go because I know I will eat poorly and lose weight. While it is a joke, it does happen every...single... time. Insanity, I know. I also don't think I'm burning more calories while on vacation because while we do walk around to see things, it is leisurely and typically isn't all day long. This leaves three options, but while I do think it's all quite mysterious, I don't actually believe that there is something magical or mysterious happening - I just don't happen to understand what it is that's going on.

Now down to two options (I need more calories, and vacation gets rid of excess stress), I actually think it's a combination of these two remaining theories. One of the things that benefits me while on vacation is that I'm not a snacker, so every time others want to stop and get a nibble of something, I decline (not because I think I'm being holier than anyone else, but I genuinely am not a snacker and never have been). This is potentially eliminating several unnecessary calories. In addition, if I am offered dessert, I take it politely, but I eat just a few bites. I also try not to eat unless I'm genuinely hungry. Sometimes, this means skipping a meal (which I would normally recommend against), but because I know I'm consuming more than normal, it seems like a bad idea to eat when I'm not hungry. I also don't think about or obsess over what I'm eating. If I can make a smarter choice, I will (because I want this to be a life change, not a temporary change), but I also don't want to deprive myself of something I'd like to try because I don't know how many calories are in it. I have been there and done that in the past and it doesn't help. Ultimately, I will give in and it will be far worse than just having a single meal or a few bites of something "bad."

Although I still don't seem to completely understand what takes place during vacation that causes weight loss, I am going to accept it and get back to the normal routine because even though I was fortunate to not come home to a weight gain, I very much missed my regular workouts and feeling good.

BodyBugg: Early Thoughts/Review

Because I have been struggling with figuring out a more precise number of calories burned during the day, I started looking at heart rate monitors. There are so many to choose from that I found myself overwhelmed by the process and not wanting to delve any farther into the process. As I was seeking out an appropriate HRM, I happened upon the BodyBugg. Best known for its use on The Biggest Loser television show, I honestly hadn't paid any attention to it, despite the fact that it's been on the market for several years now. After reading several reviews and finding it marked down to a third of it's original cost, I figured it would be worth a try.

Image source here

Although I have had this little contraption for less than a week, I wanted to get out some initial thoughts on this product, and see how my opinion changes over time. Basically, the user buys a little monitor that sits on an elastic armband which monitors the individuals activities throughout the day. It is intended to give the user an idea of overall calories burned, rather than specifics for a given activity. It also permits the user to add in food intake so that at the end of the day, there is a tangible number of calories burned vs calories taken in to the body.

My initial impression of this monitor is that it may not be the most efficient or effective tool, depending on the users needs/wants/desires. I purchased the "SP" model of the BodyBugg so that I could use my phone to check on things throughout the day, rather than buying the digital display for the alternate "v3" model, or having to download the information all the time with the USB cord. I have found the app on my iPhone 4s to be a bit of a pain, and not entirely accurate for up to the minute information. The app itself is persnickety and if you touch the wrong thing while it's connecting to the bluetooth, well, you can pretty much forget getting any information out of it.

Image from Apex

As for the monitor itself, I remain up in the air about it. I guess when I was reading through all of the information I didn't quite take in the fact that there is no actual heart rate monitoring associated with the BodyBugg. It's set up so that it monitors body heat, sweat, and electric currents across the skin. I am not an expert, but it seems a bit strange to me that there wouldn't be some type of heart monitoring in this device to get the most accurate burn.

Sample screen shot for a given day

I have also found that I question how well it's tracking the burn. My morning kickboxing class runs from 9:30a-10:20a, and when I looked at the time line later in the evening on the computer software, it only showed a rise in calorie burn for 31 of those 50 minutes... and we are definitely working for the entire 50 minutes - quite intensely. The total calories burned during that time, including my bike ride to and from the workout, were about 690 calories. It also showed that during one morning from 6:45a-9:00a I burned 826 calories while I was doing absolutely nothing except sitting on my rear and eating some oatmeal. I find it a bit strange that I burnt more calories doing nothing for 2 hours than I did in a very, very intense exercise class for almost an hour, as well as riding my bike too and from the class.

The BodyBugg claims 90% accuracy, which is better than a heart rate monitor from what I can tell, but it's difficult for me to understand the numbers when I see them laid out in front of me because they just don't seem to make sense.

As for the food portion of the BodyBugg, I have found that there aren't many foods in the system, and that it will not allow me to do specific amounts. For example, I routinely have 3/4 cup of oatmeal (measured in its dry state) for breakfast. However, the BodyBugg will only allow me to enter 1/2 a cup or a 1 cup amount. So, I'm either under or overestimating what I'm consuming - either of which defeats the purpose of having this device. Instead, like so many others who've gone before with this product, I have found myself using another online program to enter my calories consumed, and using the BodyBugg merely as a test of how many calories I'm burning during the day.

The one thing that is still troubling to me is that I wanted to know if I was eating too much or too little. While the program does assign a number of calories for a person to consume based on your activity level, weight, height, goals, etc, I still don't know if it's possible that I'm under eating. The program itself doesn't seem to have an issue with a person eating fewer calories than assigned, but I know from the past that it can be dangerous or counter productive when not eating enough calories. I do seem to be getting enough to feel satisfied, so I guess that is what I'll have to go on for now.

For my purposes, I wanted to know a more precise number of calories burned on a daily basis, so I've used it as a gauge on a few different days to discover how off I've been with calorie burn. While I don't think it's provided me any earth shattering information, I will say that for the few days I've had, I do seem to have lost weight. I don't know if my body has just decided to cooperate finally, or if I've been unconsciously working harder, knowing that I'm being "tracked." Regardless, I think it has been useful thus far, if for no other reason than to get a better idea of calories burned... even if I don't choose to wear it all the time, or every day.