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Hate Volume 2 here
Hate Volume 1 here
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Carnac Ellipse Shoes (circa 1998)

@##=#<7,L>@##=#So, now that I’ve done pedals, it’s time to move to the shoes – cleats if you will. My first cleats were a set of leather lace up things. I think I paid about $15 for them, and, along with the $5 I paid for the leather “hair net” helmet, I was all set to morph in “Euro Fred.” The cleats were thin black leather and seemed to have balsa wood soles; I believe I screwed the cleats onto the bottom of them. I wore through the leather pretty quickly and was ready to move on to the world of clipless. I got my first pair of Sidis. They were Genius 3s, they lasted a long time and were black with the ratchet tightening buckles on the side of the shoes. Very nice shoes, really.

I spent about 7 years or so with the Sidis, but they were getting worn and it was time to move on. It seems as I age, my feet are getting wider and wider. I work at home, so it’s pretty rare that I actually wear shoes, in fact I spend my days dressed much like “The Dude” in “The Big Lebowski” – so, needless to say – video conferencing will never come to my company. But back to my spreading feet, since my feet are pretty unencumbered all day, wedging them into cycling shoes can get a little tight. The Sidis always felt like a tight casing for my little sausages, so when I went for new shoes, I opted for the Carnacs because they were reported to have the widest toe box.

I have the three strap Carnac Ellipses with the carbon soles, and I’ve had them for about 5 years or so, I think. The toe box was wider than the Sidis, but not exactly huge, and I think my expanding feet will eventually necessitate a replacement (I’m thinking in about 5 years or so). My Carnacs have become familiar to me and I can’t foresee changing for another 5 years or so.

I have two problems with these shoes; the first is more of a problem with Shimano cleats, really. I use an adapter plate to mount my cleats on the Carnacs and this thickens the shoe bottom, so when I try to use the screws included with Shimano cleats, they don’t reach the holes in the soles of the shoes. I have a set of cleat screws that somehow materialized from somewhere and they are the only ones long enough to fit the cleats. I am reduced to hanging onto these like grim death. Don’t mess with my screws!

The second issue is that eventually the Velcro on the straps separate from the carbon straps. I’ve glued then together twice with epoxy, and I’m due for another gluing soon.

Were does this leave us?
I should get custom shoes for my expansive feet, but I’ll be damned if I’m dropping that kind of cash anytime soon, so it’s back to the glue for me.

Time for hate
I need a longer screw. I’ve been working the whole article to be able to write that – well played, huh?

Shimano SPD-SL pedals

The first bike I bought had the classic toe strap pedals. They had the cleats with the big old slot that you shoved into the cleat and then you pulled for all you were worth to tighten the leather strap over the top of your shoe. They held your feet relatively well, but it was a test of skills at every stop to get clipped in and pull your strap tight, and I ended up “turtle-ing” (on my back on the ground with my bike attached to my feet) a few times in the first year of my toe straps.

Then the clipless pedal phenomenon came upon us. Hinault, LeMond, and their ilk ushered in the modern pedal era, with Sean Kelly holding out until the bitter end. I was willing to join the herd like any willing piece of livestock, and my first clipless pedals were a pair of used Looks. They were probably the same vintage as the ones Hinault started with. The body seemed cheap and plasticy, and the mechanical aspects seemed clunky, but they seemed like a dream when I clicked in and out.

@##=#<6,R>@##=#The next pedals were the Shimano Look compatible pedals (like the ones Lance used to ride). I owned these pedals for about 10 years or so. They were close, trusted friends who were reliable and stalwart companions. I would still be pedaling them if it weren’t for the bearings eventually grinding to a halt. Farewell, dear friends! (I’m pouring out my coffee on the floor right now – aka, “a drink for my homies”).

The passing of my dear friends happened to coincide with Shimano’s development of their new SPD-SL pedals. I am a sucker for large platform pedals, so I was excited to swap out for these new kicks. Plus, my shadowing of our fearless cycling leader was able to continue as Lance was using these pedals also.

The pedals are stable, reliable, and easy to use – so much so that using them has become second nature. I’m not sure if that is because they are really good pedals or I’ve become used to them. Either way, they will bury these pedals with me, well, unless new technology renders then obsolete.

Were does this leave us?
I will use these pedals until they disintegrate under my feet.

Time for hate
How pathetic is it to write a treacly love letter to pedals?

Mavic Ksyrium Wheelset

@##=#<5,R>@##=#I bought these wheels in 2002. I was fresh off of my experience with a pair of Shimano Dura Ace 7700 wheels – the ones with the “cross-over” spokes or whatever they called them. They were a little heavy and I had banged them to death, so the search for another wheelset began. The Ksyriums caught my researching eye and I started to notice that they were everywhere. I saw a lot of sets rolling around and I bugged people who rode them, asking questions and being a nuisance, generally. That being said, does anyone ever say something bad about a part on their own bikes? It would be equivalent of admitting idiocy, I suppose – “I bought this part, but it isn’t good, but I keep it on my bike because. Um…” Maybe word of mouth isn’t always such a great idea.

So the consensus was reached, and I got my new wheels. (Hold on, here’s where I get into my in-depth technical analysis.) The spokes seemed aero-y because they were flat, and when I put the wheels on my bike, my bike felt satisfyingly lighter. Mission accomplished! The wheels felt very stiff and responsive when I rode them. That was the last time I looked at them with a critical eye. They have become such a part of my race bike that I simply don’t think about them.

Were does this leave us?
My poor ignored, stalwart Ksyriums have been injured, and now they are at the wheel doctor’s. I hope they treat them gently. Get well, soon Ksyriums!

Time for hate
Do you have any idea how difficult it is to write a hate column about Ksyriums? That stupid name has clogging my spell check! What the hell were they thinking? They come up with a name that no one can pronounce? Were they off their medication when they named these?

Trek Anthem Elite Helmet

@##=#<4,R>@##=#First thing about helmets, I need some clarification on the certification process. ANSI and Snell notwithstanding, it seems that the certification is a pass or fail type deal. Is there anyway to find out how much the helmet passed by? Can there be a scale of safety as far as helmets go? Maybe we can see which helmets are toughest? Maybe the testers can comment on the bad ass-ity of the helmets they test? Wouldn’t you want the strongest helmet protecting your rock?

Aesthetics First – who am I kidding – Aesthetics Always!
I ordered the large helmet, which in retrospect might have been a mistake. I wear a size 7 ¼ hat size (Do you know your hat size? Well, I do). So I took a guess and ordered the big melon hat. I have a thing about my noggin size as I had a very large head as a child. I was wearing adult size hats when I was in kindergarten, so I just assume that I still have a big coconut. This isn’t the case actually, I have just maintained my head size since kindergarten, anyone who has read my columns regularly can attest to this.

So when I slapped on the large size helmet, I was disappointed about the ratio between the helmet and my head. I looked a little vino-esque – not a good look. The helmet and I were off to a bad start. I then noticed that the strap that goes before the ear was attached to the foam of the shell instead of being inside the shell like a lot of other helmets. This looked odd to me as the strap didn’t conform to my face – it had a gap and it made it hard to put my sunglasses (oops, optics) over the straps. Major party foul as far as looks go, and let’s face when you’ve got a face like mine, you need to concentrate on looks.

Time for hate
Ugly helmet, unhappy schmalz.

Where does this leave us?
Offending helmet has been removed from the ensemble.

schmalz hates schmalz

@##=#<3,R>@##=#First thing first – have you seen this guy? He looks like they took The Grinch and a garden gnome and threw them in the microwave together on the “dumbass” setting. Not easy on the eyes, harsh even. But I’m not here to debate the aesthetics of our dear columnist; I’m here to go after the content of his narratives. And by saying narratives, I’m being generous. It seems that the chimps have finally conquered Shakespeare.

Aside from his grade school prose, what is really enraging is that he thinks he’s hot stuff, and has the audacity to criticize other racers. Can anyone explain to me why should we listen to what a Cat 3 racer has to say about bike racing? Not that everyone who comments on a race should be a former world champion, but c’mon, it’s like a tee ball veteran commenting on the World Series. Give me a break. The only readable thing he ever did was the Christian Vande Velde interview, and I think that was actually Baldwin pretending to be schmalz. I’m not buying his fake humble act for one minute. I just know he’s prancing around in his bedroom dressed only in his Merrill Lynch jersey.

He even has the stones to conjure a review column to review bike equipment and scam companies into giving him free stuff. All this while he retains the technical knowledge of a toddler hammering cheese doodles into an electrical outlet.

And “THOR WILL SMASH” is so over, that shark’s been jumped and then jumped again. As far as catch phrases go, it’s pretty weak. If it were made into a bumper sticker, I don’t think it would knock any “peeing Calvins” off the bumpers of any Monte Carlos.

And he occasionally mentions his daughters to try and make everyone believe that he has anything but the cold reptilian heart of a troglodyte. Pathetic.

Time for hate…
Have you been reading this at all?

Where does this leave us?
Run from schmalz! Cast him into the darkness!

Andy gets to do the hate this week, as he had easier access to the source for the Cervelo and fit into the limited time frame for the review. So, I start the damn review column and he gets to ride the high end bike – that’s how it’s going to be?

Cervelo Soloist Carbon

Tim and Zoltan of Sid’s were kind enough to let us take their Cervelo Soloist Carbon (heretofore to be referred to as the ‘CSC’) for a test ride. But, as noted in the comments section below, Schmalz has been big timing me since Tony Cruz started taking his calls. So it was up to me to carry Schmalz’s water…again.

Keeping in mind that I’m an expert in nothing, I tried to do as an objective a bike test as possible, while avoiding the mystical language of most tests – agile, confidence inspiring, nimble, blah blah blah. I used my own wheels to eliminate one element of the ride feel, and I rode it back to back with my Taiwanese monocoque carbon Viner, so I’d have a point of reference.

The first impression of the CSC is that it’s stiff. Anything with that deep downtube’s gotta be vertically robust. The aero seatpost contributes to the rigidity as well. Most round carbon seatposts will flex 1/4″ under you, but not this one. I put all my weight on the back of the saddle and couldn’t budge it a bit. On the road, I sat like a dead man on the saddle and rolled over some bumps. Without knees and elbows to absorb the shock, the CSC practically got air over little chatter bumps that my Viner absorbed better. This vertical stiffness wasn’t really that severe, however, especially compared to an aluminum bike. The aluminum Soloist, for example, would hit you like a hammer. The CSC transmits sharp edged impacts as well, but at a much smaller amplitude. If you were to imagine road buzz as waves, the aluminum Soloist would transmit big square waves, the Viner smaller rounded off waves, and the CSC smaller square edged waves. What would Bicycling say?: The CSC is a rock solid speedster with a sports car road feel and racing pedigree to match.

The CSC is extremely stiff laterally as well. Not surprising, since the downtube/seattube junction envelops the entire BB shell. I couldn’t get the chainring to move relative to the front derailer while out of the saddle. In fact, the frame is so resistant to torsion it almost messes with your rhythm. On my bike, there’s a split second delay each time I rocked the bike, as if the rear axle was catching up to the headtube, like a dachsund wagging it’s tail. Not so the CSC. Once I got used to it I realized I could whip it back and forth just a little quicker. It’s a very cool sensation, as if it were CAD drawing instead of an actual bike – you just don’t expect something so light to be so rigid. It’s the same sensation I felt when I switched from my Odonata to the Viner. This bike would be frighteningly snappy with a stiffer set of wheels like Ksyriums. WWBS: The CSC is a flickable rocket that will delight the monster quad set.

Of course, what really makes the CSC unique is that it’s an aero road bike. And unlike just about every other bike maker out there, when Cervelo makes an aero tube, you can rest assured that the tube is a real airfoil. Of course, I don’t have access to a wind tunnel or the money to book it, so I’ll have to take Cervelo’s word on it’s aero advantage. WWBS: This steed cuts through the wind like a knife through warm butter, bringing out the inner Jens Voigt in every rider.

Time for hate…
Cervelo’s have exploded in popularity in the last few years, and it seems the company has experienced some growing pains as a result. There are many instances of the lugged R2.5 coming unbonded, and they’ve struggled to meet demand. The optimist would point out the CSC and the new R3 aren’t lugged, and selling out your bikes before they’re delivered sure beats the alternative. In my own experience, I’ve owned the P2k and the P3c and love them both, but I did have to fix Chuleta’s aluminum Soloist’s cable routing, which was a nightmare.

Where does this leave us?
I don’t know if Cervelo engineers their bikes more than other makers, but their bikes and their marketing sure makes me believe it. In any case, they’re more able to extract money from my wallet than any other bike maker while exuding a Steve Jobsian aura of coolness. The CSC is a unique bike, a spine tingling ride, and sexy as all get out. WWBS: This antidote to the McBike is a must have in the quiver of any serious aficionado of two wheeled rubber burning.