Cycling

Presidential candidate says allegations will be investigated

A few grams here, a wisp of weight there – it can't possibly matter, right? Such marginal gains might be major targets for big pro teams but they aren't significant enough on their own for most riders to justify their associated costs. It's only when they're approached in bulk that they can add up to more meaningful sums. There was a time back in my shop days when I obsessed over shaving every possible smidgeon of excess material. I scavenged titanium and aluminum bolts whenever possible, I weighed individual inner tubes and tires at our shop, and I made plenty of decisions that were in hindsight were rather ill advised, all in the name of the all-powerful scale. I even bought cheap titanium bolts direct from a Chinese supplier once. It didn't go well.These days I consider myself a (somewhat) reformed weight weenie but certain aspects of that mindset have never left me. Few cycling circles epitomize the concept of marginal gains more than top-end professional teams with no improvement too small. To that crowd, seconds can sometimes hold major consequences and many teams have gone to extraordinary lengths to earn them. Think about the potential impact of a few seconds over the course of a three-week stage race or even tenths of a second in a World Cup downhill. Did that one little equipment change matter? At the end of a crucially important event, it's a certainly a question you don't want to think about.Marginal weight savings are fun, but in terms of performance they don't really benefit everyday ridersLikewise, true weight weenies are often looked upon with equal measures of perplexity and bewilderment in a world where it's entirely normal to pay much, much more to get just a little bit less. Unlike the pros whose livelihoods depend on race results, these folks are competing only for pride and bragging rights, but a KOM in internet forum-land can sometimes feel just as valuable. It all can seem rather insane if you're an average rider.Taken on an individual basis, such miniscule things mean very little to most of us. Regardless of what the math tells us, the hard truth is that those small changes in weight aren't going to make a lick of difference to the vast majority of enthusiasts, especially those that don't live in especially mountainous areas or riders that are mostly concerned with how they feel on their ride, not shaving seconds from their favorite Strava KOM segment.But take a step back and consider that sort of obsessive approach everywhere on a bike. Fifty grams saved on a single component? Big deal. But how about dropping a kilo by saving 50g on every component? Now we're getting somewhere.The problem is that a piecemeal approach might eventually give you what you want but it's a strategy only big teams – or amateurs with big budgets – can afford. Sure, you're spending in smaller amounts so it hurts less but just like paying the minimum due on your credit card, the final tally is going to be much higher. One could easily read into a little further and suggest that I'm telling people not to throw their hard-earned money away on singular, weight-driven upgrades unless it's for the sake of personal satisfaction or hobby – and you'd be partially correct, which probably sounds weird coming from a die-hard gear guy who writes about the latest and greatest bike widgets for a living and just admitted that he has a drawer full of (now unused) titanium bolts at home.It would instead be more accurate to say, however, that I'm suggesting that you look more at the big picture when it comes to your gear. Incremental upgrades can still be sensible if they're viewed over time as part of a greater plan to improve a significant portion of your steed. Put another way, spending US$300 to save 50g doesn't make much sense. Spending US$3,000 to save a kilogram, on the other hand – either through a wholesale upgrade or an entire new bike – might be even more financially irresponsible, but at least that

I made three short videos during the study tour two weeks ago. As it happens, all three of them show children and teenagers using the cycling infrastructure in one way or another. A cycle-path through a residential area in Assen followed by a crossing which is safe for all to use Teenagers in one corner of a park in Groningen. It was a sunny afternoon, so thousands of people had ridden their

Danny Lesh brings music to the partystrangers and friends share the experienceLia Sermeretis is the Den Mother of these boy and girl scoutsa volunteer blocks trafficthis is called corkingthis way the group can stay togetheryes... red light runningbut reallyit is not that much of a hold upokay... so... they run a few lightsbut really... have you seen how cars drive?I could take photos of cars running stop signs and red lights toothe corking?maybe they keep a car from missing a light cycle or twothey can make it up by speeding on the following blocksit is a pretty wholesome good timeentire photo set on the Gwadzilla Facebook Pagehttps://www.facebook.com/media

I had been bothered after a ride of any length lately. I’ve always had trouble being comfortable in the saddle after an hour or so, but now I was getting low back pain. It cleared up quickly once I stopped riding, but if I was going to continue to enjoy being on the bike, I would have to take some action. The obvious culprit was the saddle. I had been fitted to the bike way back in 2009, and the most unexpected finding there was that my seat had been too far back. The fitter moved it forward, and I enjoyed the feeling of riding in a slightly upright position, with the bars a tad closer to me than they had been. But in the intervening years, I’ve been experimenting — making tiny adjustments in the saddle position. Over time, those tiny adjustments became substantial changes. I guessed the problem must be that the saddle needed to move forward again, because at this time, it was as far back as possible. I had even considered getting one of those seat posts with the additional back offset. But I decided first that I would try to get the bike back to the original settings the fitter had come up with. I didn’t have a sheet with my measurements, but I did have my garage window. On the window sash, I had written in pencil that the distance from the nose of the saddle to the headset was exactly 16 inches. Now, it was about 16 1/2 inches. I made the adjustment. We’re told not to change things drastically — more than, say an eighth of an inch — so this was a drastic change. I rationalized it by reminding myself that I’d ridden in this position before. On my first ride with the new position, I noticed the effect of the forward saddle right away. My arms bent naturally at the elbows. There was less pressure on my hands. I did a club ride of about 30 miles, and felt fine after it was all over. Last week, I did a few short rides in the neighborhood before work, a longer ride with hills on Saturday, and a 37-mile club ride Sunday. No lower back pain. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty close. And I have a hunch that any further adjustment I make will be on the saddle height rather than fore and aft — remembering that raising the saddle has the effect of moving it back, and lowering it has the effect of moving it forward. By all means, tweak your riding position for the most comfort — but be sure you have a record of your original settings. You might need them. Filed under: Bike fit Tagged: saddle

Pre-Qinghai Lake training block has search2retain sprinter feeling confident

Flying bikes have been in the news recently, with the latest more like a quadcopter with a bike attached than any sort of airplane. Perhaps a bit more true to the form comes the Paravelo by Yannick Read (featured in Urban Velo #37). Some two years in the making, the Paravelo is a docking trailer and bicycle with an ultralight, bio-fueled powered paraglider attached for the ultimate adventurer. It is even planned ot feature it’s own lightweight tent, for overnight flying-biking stopovers of course. Check out more details at the Paravelo Kickstarter. This is a brand new type of ultra-light aircraft – the combination of a para wing and conventional bicycle we call paravelo. The paravelo is aimed at those who have a thirst for adventure, but are without, perhaps, the storage space or bank balance to accommodate a helicopter. As well suited to someone living in London as Mojave, we believe the paravelo can transform the way we travel for work, leisure and adventure.

Frenchwoman finished 12th in 2012 road race; 5th in ITT