That is, repairing their own punctures. Or so this blog post from Total Women’s Cycling seems to suggest.
Now, I’m not usually one to throw myself wildly into a topic where I could be accused of sexism, condescension and general douchebaggery, but it’s made me itch in a kind of odd way. What kind of cycling world are women coming into where they can be a mountain biker for ten years and still not know, other than in a purely theoretical sense, how to fix a flat tyre when out on the trail?
My main racing aim for 2013 was to race this year’s installment of the Real Insurance XCM Series, a series of six marathon-distance MTB events that’s been proving wildly popular for the last few years.
Unfortunately, I’ve heard this morning via Capital Punishment’s Facebook page that there will be no XCM Series for 2013.
I’ve so far found no details on why the series is off, but no doubt that’ll become clear over time. It’s possible an abbreviated series may emerge, but the Wombat 100, Cap Punishment, The Convict 100, The Highland Fling and The Kowalski Classic (which was to be a first-time inclusion) won’t be part of it, making it a rather emasculated version of previous years.
The races themselves will go on, in stand-alone fashion, but there’s no overarching series tying them together.
This is a loss for Australian endurance MTB, but with so many other races to choose from, the scene is still healthy, even if it still doesn’t seem to know the difference between marathon and enduro.
On a personal note, this means my racing ambitions for the year will shift. I’m unlikely to head south to the Wombat 100 if it’s not part of the XCM, since it’s logistically tricky to organise, and may instead refocus on the Shimano MTB GP series of endurance events, depending on how the first round goes this weekend. Or next weekend, since weather is worrying the organisers a little. I’d still like to do the Convict 100, and I’m entered for Capital Punishment already. I have unfinished business with the Highland Fling this year, too, since I missed last year’s start due to a car breakdown.
More news on this will be posted as I find it.
Gizmodo recently posted an item on what was quoted as “a giant leap forward in bicycle engineering”, a bike made of the aerospace material Trivex.
There are of course lots of things to say on this topic. The most obvious is that the bike, as pretty as it is in a minimalist kind of way, hardly follows most recent breakthrough bike design trends.
For one thing, the head angle is absurdly slack which would make it somewhat of a lazy handler. It also has an absurdly large rear triangle, compromising stiffness and drive, and resulting in a higher, flat top tube, rather than the more modern sloping or curved design.
It also appears to neglect the most intriguing capability of modern materials – 3D design – and opts for plain, symmetrical tubes, where a truly breakthrough design would take advantage of aerodynamic research and testing to come up with something slippery and streamlined – like the S-Works Venge – or something radically assymetrical, prioritising stiffness in the drive side, like the Pinarello Dogma.
I could also criticise the componentry, the option of a brake-free singlespeed design and the choice of a track-style drop bar, where more practical – and indeed groundbreaking – choices exist. The designer could have included genius componentry, like Ridley and BMC‘s aero-integrated braking options, and Shimano’s recent 11-speed Dura-Ace Di2 electronic groupset.
As a mountain biker, I could mention that it eschews technological genius such as variable-rate suspension systems and disc braking. From a commuter point of view, it entirely ignores the possibility of internal hub gearing and belt drive, both of which have made leap-and-bound advancements in recent years.
I could have even mentioned the way this cannot be groundbreaking, since it doesn’t even include dopey on-the-fly tyre pressure adjustment.
I could say all of these things, but I won’t. Because this is an invisible bike, and invisible bikes get only one response.
Well, not your bicycle, unless you’re a vintage bike freak. Rather, a 1940s Raleigh, all-steel – no carbon or aluminium, no 30-speed XTR groupset, No suspension and certainly no dopey on-the-fly tyre pressure adjustment. It’s all rather industrial – though to be honest, I’d love some of that machinery in my own workshop.
Discovered via the Yo Eddy!! blog
Most cyclists would agree that there are some very special relationships in their lives. There is the relationship with their bikes*, of course. And the relationships with their favourite local roads or trails. A rider learns their moods, and their differing characters over time, and comes to an understanding and respect of a very deep and meaningful kind. This understanding is rewarded with those riding days where bike, terrain and rider work harmoniously together and produce crisp, bright memories of effortless speed to be cherished for years to come.
Oh, and I understand some riders have relationships with other humans too.
But the relationship I’m writing to talk about now is another, with which most riders will be familiar.
It’s about the legs.
Yep, the engine room. The pistons. The guns.
Omega Pharma-QuickStep will kick ass, take names, crumple up the sheet of paper on which they took the names, stuff it in a bottle of petrol, light it, and spectacularly immolate the team standings for 2013.
And indeed, Cavendish has taken the first stage of San Luis, his first race for OPQS.
Now, if Tom Boonen’s elbow can get itself out of star-studded rehab, the coming classics season will be stamped into the pavé, and the year will be set up for complete dominance
Mark my words!
Strava. What it's really all about.
Lots of people whine about how Strava is destroying cycling, what with the whole “added competition” aspect and all. Or something.
These people are of course entitled to whine as much as they want about whatever they want. But the fact remains that Strava, and similar apps, are enormously valuable to cyclists, and not just competitive testosterone-driven street racers out for a new KOM. The key thing being the fact that your detailed data allows you not just to compete against others, but to compete against yourself. And even excluding the competitive aspect, it’s really quite nice to have a record of how many kms you’ve covered, how much uphill you’ve done and how often you’ve done it, and how much you’ve improved over time.
And I’d be a whole lot slower and a lot less fit if I didn’t have some kind of self-challenging tool to kick my arse of a morning. Or, to be more accurate, some kind of self-challenging tool that turns every commute into a gut-wrenching interval session.
That said, there are things about Strava that piss me off. Royally.
Not an Enduro
I got an email this morning, enjoining me to sign up for the Stinging Mettle MTB Marathon event.
Except it didn’t call it a marathon event. It called it, as it’s been calling it since the first announcement, an Enduro.
Let’s just get something straight here.
Stinging Mettle is not an Enduro. It’s a marathon.
In years past, it was acceptable to call 100km XC races “enduros”, because the meaning of the phrase “MTB Enduro” wasn’t settled. It was used interchangeably as shorthand for “endurance race” and for events inspired by motorcycle enduro. In Europe and North America, the timed-stage version prevailed. Here in Australialand, several organisers applied it to marathons and that definition seemed to have the upper hand.
However these days, there’s an Enduro World Tour, which is All-mountain racing, in timed stages with untimed sections, and as such the meaning of Enduro can be said, fairly, to be settled. It’s gone international, and as such, Aussies need to get with the program and start calling marathons marathons.
Stinging Mettle is not an Enduro. The Tathra is not an enduro. Kanangra is not an enduro (my 2012 race jersey, with “enduro” written all over it notwithstanding).
Catch up, people. You’re on the wrong side of history here. The meaning is settled. Enduro is timed stage all-mountain. Your events are marathons. Deal with it.
(p.s. apologies, such as they are, for the intemperate language of the title. If there’s one thing guaranteed to wind me up it’s inaccurate use of the English language)
Update: Pinkbike weighed in on this topic not long after me. AS did Flow Magazine on their Facebook page. Get a grip, The Australian MTB Racing Industry!
I popped out for a while to do some hill repeats in the rain because my SBS reception was awful. I returned home to find Luke Durbridge has made it two national championships by riding away from the peloton.
Congratulations Durbo’s chin. You are indeed the fastest mandible in Australia.
And it’s pretty clear that the young riders of Australia are kicking the wrinkly old arses of the preceding generation. Chapeau, young ‘uns.
