I was at dinner the other night with my wife and some friends when the topic of my diet came up.
Because, you know, the only thing your non-bike riding friends want to hear about more than your stupid bicycle riding exploits, it is your kooky diet strategies.
During the course of the pleasant dinner conversation the question came up about “rewarding” oneself after a particularly long ride or a tough workout.
This got me thinking.
I’ve lived under the sweets-as-reward pardigm my entire life. If I was well-behaved in church I got a donut. If I got good news from school I got a cookie.
If I made it through an hour without getting fired by my mother at our rollerskating rink, I got some licorice rope or a slushie. (Yeah, we owned a rollerskating rink, but that is a story for a different time).
If me and neighbor kids played nice we got ice cream.
And on into adulthood the pattern continued.
If I had a tough study week I went out and had a big meal and desert.
Ok, actually, I went to Uncle K’s and drank a bunch of beer. But the same principle applies.
This doesn’t even begin to take into account Holiday “rewards.” The type of rewards you get for it just being a particular day of the year.
The problem is, now this strategy of rewarding myself for doing something good is counterproductive to the reason for doing the good thing to begin with. In my case, anyway.
The reward system has systematically undermined my desire to be healthy and, to be completely honest, thinner and faster on the bike.
I’ve rewarded myself into being 20 plus pounds overweight. I’ve convinced myself having a muffin (or two) on a long ride is completely reasonable. Or eating half a pizza after a particularly hilly ride is just me replacing the nutrients my body needs.
The pattern repeats itself over and over. I do something good for myself and then I “reward” myself by basically undoing whatever positive effect exercise might have had on my wellness.
I’m not saying the exercise didn’t have it’s benefit, but I am saying I have been making nutritionally bad decision after bad decision, based on wanting to “treat” myself for doing something I love.
I don’t need a reward to feel good about something I already feel good about doing.
I’m going to see this pattern of behavior for what it truly is, a road better left not ridden.
Pedro’s Apprentice Tool Kit. Photo: Max Whittaker/Element.ly
Man, I wish I’d had the Pedro’s Apprentice Tool Kit twenty years ago. Instead of slowly accumulating the pile of tools that sits in my garage, I could’ve made one (slightly pricey) purchase and been ready for pretty much any repair most riders will do. I’ve built up a handful of bikes and made dozens of repairs with just the tools Pedro’s neatly packs into a slim plastic case.
While it’s geared towards new, tool-less riders, the Apprentice was great for tossing in the car for a road trip or race weekend—saving me a half hour of pillaging my large tool chest.
Mountain bikers will need to need to add a shock pump, and it’s a bummer that no tool set like this comes with a torque wrench. With the ubiquity of carbon bars and seatposts, beginners especially could use the precision of a torque wrench to avoid crushing expensive carbon bits with overly aggressive wrenching.
The included cog wrench was a revelation. Chain whips can now die the horrible death I’ve long wished for them.
Does being a Dad mean only the kids get to play? Photo: Erik Mathy/Element.ly
Father’s Day is here, and with it the inevitable articles and posts about how awesome all of us Dads are, how great it is to be a Dad, blah, blah, blah. Yet, when I take stock of my friends who are Fathers, the vast majority of them are not out there skipping for joy. Many of us are struggling, mightily. Why? Because while being a Dad is awesome, being an adult sucks.
For the past four years, I’ve found myself in a downward spiral. The pursuits that have given me the greatest satisfaction have taken a backseat to this thing called “adulthood.” A steady job, trying to keep up with bills, insurance, car payments, rent, taxes. “Adulthood” seems, in our society, to be purely about getting more money so we can spend ever increasing amounts on things that give us no happiness whatsoever. And the only reason I’ve gone into this “adulthood” thing is because that’s what I’ve been told I need to do in order to be a good Dad.
On the Tour Divide in 2011. Photo: Erik Mathy/Element.ly
In 2011 I raced the Tour Divide. Just prior to leaving for Banff, I was told, “You can’t keep doing these things. You’re a Father now. Adam needs you. Grow up!!!”
Since I love my son dearly, I took that to heart. I got a steady job, a car (with a car loan to match), insurance, and all the trimmings of “adulthood.” Or as many as I could manage to afford in San Francisco, which aren’t many. Bike riding, photography, non-profit volunteering and adventures took a much smaller place in my life. While I have been fortunate enough to have done bikepacking trips like the Lost Coast, Oregon Outback, and Desert Ramble, my lack of time, fitness and money has made for a decreasing ability to do enjoy those trips. With each one I come back less happy, more frustrated, injured, and financially broke than the last. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t have the income to fix or maintain the bicycles that I have, let alone go anywhere. I simply can’t afford to shoot or develop film, and my list of injuries gets longer and longer.
A great many of my friends who are fathers fall into this same category. We have massive financial concerns. With little time to spare, escaping two mornings a week for a one hour ride becomes a major accomplishment. We don’t really know what we’re doing, are no longer the people we used to be, and are desperately trying to figure out how to be happy while also being the best fathers we can be for these kids we love with our entire hearts. As my friend Sean Larkin so eloquently wrote recently:
“I am so sad and so lonely and so unsure of how I can balance these strange circumstances and responsibilities on my plate, to be the dad, the coparent, the son, the brother, the business owner, the professional colleague, the friend, I want to be. I dread the unwitting Father’s Day posts tomorrow, the “we’re proud of you” posts, when I am not proud. I am just in love with this little 23 pound person, and overwhelmed and uncertain and committed.” – Sean Larkin
For some time now I’ve found myself with a permanent stress headache that often spirals into migraines, depression, bitterness, 15 lbs of extra weight, increasing amounts of debt and a complete lack of faith that the future will be any better. All of which I can trace directly to the decisions I’ve made in the pursuit of becoming an adult. How, exactly, does this make me a better Dad, again? I don’t see it.
This kid rules, for real. Photo: Erik Mathy/Element.ly
The reason I don’t see it, not just for myself but for many of my friends, is that it doesn’t make us better fathers. What kind of example are we setting, giving up our joys, our senses of self, this way? Will we be able to teach our children about happiness if we have none ourselves? What about hope? Faith? Adventure? Curiosity about what else is out there, past the phone screens and fucking Youtube videos?
How do I teach my son about love when I’ve turned myself inside out into something that I loathe? I can’t, and Adam deserves so, so much more than that.
This Father’s Day, of all the days of the year, is as good as any to hit the big red reset button. No, I am not going to default on my car loan, quit my day job which I actually like, or go have a dumb midlife crisis. I love the woman I live with and have no interest in fast cars, anyways. What I am going to do, though, is to pick a a few goals that are purely, selfishly, mine and pursue them. They will involve bikes, dirt roads, dusty tracks, cameras, sunsets, friends, camping, sights old and new. Make no mistake, I’ll also keep trying to be as good partner, Dad, employee, son and friend as I can. This isn’t a move to become a selfish jerk. No, it’s just an attempt to carve out a little time to be who I’ve always been: Me.
Somewhere along the Colorado River. Get out there, find something new and beautiful just for you. Photo: Erik Mathy/Element.ly
Should you be one of us, lost in the downward spiral of trying to be something you aren’t because that’s the sacrifice we’re supposed to make to be a Dad, consider this an invitation. Pick a day dream or two that makes your heart race a little faster and go after it. Get back to being yourself. If we are lucky, if we play our cards right, maybe next Father’s Day each of us will be able to not only say that we are the Fathers our children deserve, but we’re also the people that we always wanted to be.
Limited Edition Leggero SL. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly
I spotted one of those tall, lean and handsome Capo guys sporting the new Limited Edition Leggero SL kits on their social media channel and I couldn’t stop staring.
No, not at him. At this kit. It looks awesome.
And it is even better in person, than on the Facebooks. Which is rarely the case.
Capo has integrated their 360° Luminescent material into the sleeves and the back pocket. They’ve also added what they call Eyelet Mesh microfiber under the arms, and the bibs come with their excellent—excuse the technical terminology—Anatomic CS Carbon EIT® chamois.
We are torn between loving this kit for its eye-popping appeal and its excellent fit and finish. Released in celebration of the 2015 Tour of California, this kit is designed to be ready for the heat of race day.
The arms are cut long, as are the bands around the legs, which is an acquired taste. But once you acquire it, there is no turning back. This kit is definitely a set it and forget it operation.
Throw in a pair of Capo’s top-o-the-line sockies and a cap and you are ready for a epic day in the saddle.
Capo Leggero SL socks. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly.
The world of bikepacking was rocked yesterday with the unexpected and sudden death of the Oregon Outback. As with any good murder mystery, there is suspense, drama, anger, sadness and massive amounts finger pointing going on.
The Oregon Outback was both a bikepacking route and an annual race of the same name. Starting in Klamath Falls, it shoots north through Oregon, crossing high desert plains, going through woods and down into canyons populated primarily by living ghost towns, ranches and coyotes. After covering 364 miles and 14,376 ft of elevation gain, the Oregon Outback ends at the Deschutes River on the border of Washington. It is, in a word, stunning.
Donnie Kolb, the mastermind behind the route and event, pulled the plug after it’s second running. After a massively successful first year, the 2015 edition attracted even more people. At some point in time, a few unknown riders lost their common sense. Garbage and human excrement were left behind not just on the trail but in public parks and, in one case, a Good Samaritan’s barn. A local allowed a group to stay in his barn overnight in order to stay out of the rain, and they paid him back with gifts of, literally, crap left inside the building.
Angered by the trashing of his beloved Oregon and the treatment of its people, Donnie posted the following:
“So, while I had an inkling the Oregon Outback might be a bit of a shit-show this year because a lot more people would be riding, I didn’t imagine this would be why – that it would turn into a literal shit show. I’m sad and disgusted and angry, and I don’t see any other way to make this right short of shutting it down so this never happens again. I’m sorry folks, but the Oregon Outback is dead.”
In the tiny but rapidly growing bikepacking community, this is like a small atomic bomb dropping. The effect has been, sadly, people immediately pulled out their pre-existing axes and grinding them. I’ve seen posts blaming “hipsters”, the “radavisation” of the event, and “kids” who need a “good whooping growing up”. While I can appreciate a solid, blind, angry finger pointing as much as the next person, none of this does a lick of good for anyone. The bottom line is that nobody knows who did it. Blaming a broad swathe of people for the actions of a few unknown asshats makes you just as much of an asshat. So, first and foremost, to my beloved bikepacking community, whom I love with all my heart: Calm. The. Hell. Down.
The conversation we should be having, as (in theory) somewhat vaguely fully functioning adults is how this came to be, and what we can do in the future to avoid it. I for one want to see bikepacking as a whole continue to thrive. There is no better way to get outside and see the wilderness than by going camping on a bike. The more people who do it, the better. Grassroots events like the Oregon Outback are key to introducing folks to the concept. Existing riders hear about it from their friends or the various news sites, blogs, etc. Non-cyclists along the routes see us roll through town and some of them are bound to think, “Hey, that looks like it could be a pretty good way to go!”
For me, I think there are a few things to think about:
Education: Leave No Trace is The Rule. Personally, I think it’s more than likely that some folks who don’t have the most outdoors experience got caught up in the excitement of the Oregon Outback, went to do the event, and simply had no idea that Leave No Trace even exists. If your only previous camping was in a car, with toilets and dumpsters nearby, there is a pretty good chance you don’t know to carry a trowel in order to bury your own poop, or that you should pack out your own garbage. Event organizers in particular, and the community as a whole, need to stress the Leave No Trace ethics more. Not just once, or twice, but continually. Don’t assume that folks who show up with fancy bikepacking rigs understand what they are getting into. At the same time, don’t treat the enthusiastic rookies badly, either. We were all clueless at some point in time. I know I was. Hell, 6 years later in many ways I still am. Welcome them, educate them, and take some joy in watching them go off on their adventures.
Welcome all comers. One of the most disappointing things to me in the immediate aftermath of Donnie’s announcement has been the instant recriminations and accusations. Fast, serious racers started “hipster bashing”. There have been thinly veiled jabs at “racers” who are going so fast that they obviously are just crapping wherever they can. Etc, etc. Maybe I’m just naive and have too much faith in humanity, but folks, we’re better than this. I’ve turned pedals with all types while out there riding in the middle of nowhere. In the end, the common theme with all of them is a love for being on the bike, experiencing things the vast majority of people sadly don’t ever get to see. It flat out doesn’t matter if you’re a racer, a hipster, a photographer, a fast tourer, or whatever. That love is the common thread. Drop the labels and toss your axes on the scrap pile. They aren’t needed or wanted.
Racing isn’t always racing. These “races” are free. No entry fees, no prize money, no support. And let’s face it, not everybody who shows up to a bikepacking “race” is going to be racing. Don’t get me wrong. I started bikepacking in 2010 purely so I could go race the Tour Divide. The outdoors wasn’t the draw for me back then, the race was. For some folks, going fast is what they show up to do. Racers will always race, even if they’re pushing shopping carts in a parking lot. The vast majority of folks, however, while they are technically “racing”, are really there for the shared experience of rolling through gorgeous scenery with a bunch of like minded people. In the end, we need to acknowledge that fact and adjust our expectations accordingly. Maybe we don’t advertise events like the Oregon Outback as a race. Maybe we just say these are bikepacking events and the fast guys get some kudos for, well, going fast, but the focus is no longer on racing. Just because the Tour Divide is a race doesn’t mean ALL bikepacking events need to be.
Accountability. We can have it. Perhaps we should start requiring registration and Spot trackers in order to attend bikepacking events. Would those folks have crapped all over the Good Samaritan’s barn if their Spot tracker had placed them at the scene? Maybe, maybe not. Without knowing the people involved, that’s hard to say. Regardless, it would create some accountability for actions taken, as well as making sure people have a safe out if they get into trouble.
The Oregon Outback as an event is dead. But the Oregon Outback as a bikepacking route continues to exist, and it is absolutely incredible. In the end, we can’t let the actions of a few people be the last thing the folks in Oregon experience of the bikepacking community. The only true way to repair that damage is for people to go ride it on their own. Be kind to the locals, appreciate what they have to offer, enjoy the beauty that Donnie and the Oregon Bikepacking crew were trying to share with everybody in the first place. Just because the annual event is gone doesn’t mean you still can’t get out there to do it. The route itself is one of the best I’ve ever ridden. I’ll be going back myself, some day, armed with a 4×5 pinhole camera and 50 sheets of film! And a really, really big granny gear.
It’s time. It’s dad’s day. Pops. Pappy. The ol’ man.
And we know it would be easy to get him a card and a gorgeous new tie. But if you are honest with yourself, you know this is not what he really wants. He doesn’t want a nice dinner and quality time with the fam. He wants to be out raging in the dirt, doing some questionable drops and ripping the flow trail. So suck it up and give daddy what he really wants. Whether it be a new bike or just a bomber multitool, you know he deserves it. These fathers day gift ideas will help get him out there.
Kali Viva
This little bucket helmet is described by Kali as the lid they built … no one will care about.
But if you care about how your dad rolls and also worry about how he rocks, then this is exactly the helmet you should consider for the old man.
This bright green little number is a BMX/Dirt jump lid which packs all the technology Kali is capable of into a form factor the kids won’t cringe at and even dads can appreciate.
Using Kali’s Composite Fusion Three technology and an ABS shell the Viva is designed to keep you protected, styling and if green is not your thing it also comes in Black and White.
—Jim Merithew
Trek Fuel EX 9.9 29 XX1
Here in New Mexico we don’t have as much pristine singletrack as Colorado or Utah. But we don’t have the crowds either. Me and the dogs got out for long ride last week and didn’t see another sole the entire time. Granted, I was riding some fairly obscure terrain in up in the Sangre de Cristo mountains—-but still—-it was lovely to have the place to myself. While meandering through the aspens and pine trees and following a 200-year-old hand-dug irrigation ditch, I also solidified my love affair with the Trek Fuel EX 9.9 29 XX1.
The frame and wheel setup along with RockShox’s RS-1 fork make the bike whippy fast on climbs but smooth and creamy-as-butter on technical descents. SRAM’s XX1 drivetrain is efficient, reliable and makes riding nearly mindless, almost Zen like. I was quickly reminded how lovely it can be to roll along on a beautifully designed bike through some of the world’s most stunning terrain. I’m already counting the days until I go again.
—Jakob Schiller
Osprey Rev 18
I put this bag on at the beginning of my ride, then immediately forget about it. That’s the highest recommendation I can give. It fits so well, and so snug that I never have think about it again, even when rolling through bumpy and variable terrain. The incredible fit is thanks to things like dual chest straps, an ample wait belt, and super plush and comfy shoulder straps.
It also stores everything you need. A dedicated pocket holds a 2.5-liter reservoir of water, or enough for several hours on the bike, and another large, main compartment pocket is big enough for all your spare tubes, bike tools, a rain jacket and lunch. Smaller waist-belt pockets are great for jells. There’s a dedicated flip-down media pocket on the shoulder strap that fits an iPhone 5 or other, smaller smartphones. My iPhone 6 was slightly too big, but still fit in the shoulder strap mesh pocket of the Rev 18 for quick access when I wan to snap a selfie.
—Jakob Schiller
Specialized Command Post Blacklite
If you ever take a bike clinic from Gene Hamilton at Better Ride he’ll tell you all about the attack position and if you’re going to break out your wallet the first thing to buy is a dropper post. According to Gene a dropper post will make your riding experience better in oh so many ways. And we couldn’t agree more.
The ability to put your junk right where you need it, when you need it there offers the rider more control and less worry. The dropper post has come along way in the last couple of years and their are a few excellent choices available, including the Blacklite Command post from Spesh. Available in a three adjustment, either internal or external routing and even a version specifically for the cross country set. Help dad get his game on with the gift of a dropper post.
—Jim Merithew
Blackburn Toolmanator 16 Multi-tool
If this multi-tool can’t help you fix your problem on the trail, then you know you’re up shit’s creek and better start walking. It includes everything from hex keys to a shock pump and always sits in my pack. It’s not the lightest multi-tool out there, but versatility is well worth it. At 45 clams it’s not the cheapest either, but when it saves your ass miles out on the trail, you’ll be glad you spent the cash on the Toolmanator.
The center of the Morgan Blue Chain Keeper, where the chain rests just deep enough that it wouldn’t fall off during cleaning. Photo: Stephen Lam/Element.ly
Why do I even need a chain keeper when I can just leave my rear wheel on and clean the cassette while I’m at it?
Well you can do that, and I must admit that I do leave my rear wheel on sometimes when I am in a rush, but I’ve been digging this Morgan Blue Chain Keeper.
Hey I can really clean the nooks and crannies with the rear wheels off, and leave no grease marks on my chainstay now. Sweet. And I am sure my rear hub thanks me for that too.
At first glance, the chain keeper looked like it’s a Frankenstein byproduct of mating a downhill chain guide roller to a bolt and wingnut to hold it on the dropout. But rest assured, this thing is ready to be used and abused.
I have yet to drop a chain since I started using this nifty gadget. The groove where the chain stays is just deep enough in that it’ll require some effort to derail the chain.
It’s a well-made, idiot-proof design. And the best part of this chain keeper? It’s $7. Yes, $7. Cheaper than a fast food dinner of your choice, or a cup of hand-roasted fair trade organic latte with almond milk plus pastries from the Mission.
And for shits and giggles I ran my chain through a chain cleaner just to see if the chain would fall out. Nope. Chain is still on the keeper.
One would say the design of the Morgan Blue Chain Keeper is rudimentary with its wing nut and bolt. But I’d argued that it’ll make part replacements a lot easier and cheaper. Photo: Stephen Lam/Element.ly
Laurens “Wolfman” ten Dam is a slightly more groomed these days, in comparison to years past. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly
Laurens ten Dam wasn’t voted most popular in his high school yearbook.
“I was already racing my bike by 17,” he says. “Which was considered pretty weird in comparison to drinking beer and smoking pot. But then maybe you were a little bit the outlaw because you were really into sports.”
Ten Dam, who now rides for pro tour team LottoNL-Jumbo, is no longer the outlaw and he certainly does not lack for popularity. He has over 75,000 followers on the popular athlete site Strava and those same followers gave his nine mile ride to the grocery store last week 1660 kudos.
“I just try to be myself,” he says. “I don’t try to make up something to be popular.”
We caught up with Ten Dam outside the world headquarters of Strava. He was making a quick appearance between a three-week training camp in Tahoe—part of his Tour de France prep—and his flight back home. While he was in Northern California he made sure to secure the Donner Pass KOM on Strava to add to his virtual trophy shelf.
“Getting those KOMs is like any other mountain top finish,” says Ten Dam. “I had to just sit down.”
Ten Dam asked to get a peak at the famous bike closet during his visit to Strava. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly
He sipped on his macchiato (“This is good coffee.”) and when we asked if he would like some fruit or something else to eat, he declined. He is watching his weight (or lack there of).
During our brief time together, we tried to get the answer to the questions the main stream media are afraid to ask.
What’s your spirit animal: They call me Wolfman. He says he got this nickname a few years ago when he showed up at the tour with a full beard and long, long hair. “Like an animal.”
Toilet paper, over or under: Over
Stemware up or down: I just had to put it down while I was in Tahoe, but at home, up.
Favorite color: Red, um no Yellow.
Three friends using three words to describe you: My best friends would say I am a pitbull, never giving up. I’m honest. And I’m a pain in the ass. I can trigger them. Always moaning and bitching. Always bitching.
Boxers or briefs: What’s a brief? Oh. Boxers.
Favorite food: BBQ Steak
Least favorite: Sugary foods. I like them, but I don’t eat them.
Favorite race: Tour de France
Least favorite: I love racing. I’ve even done the kermesses in Belgium. Actually you can put me in any race.
Favorite non-bicycling activity: enjoying a nice Belgian beer.
You seem to be very popular with the dudes, but not so popular with the ladies: I don’t know maybe they see the ring on my finger and I’ve been with my wife since I was very young, so I don’t know. You will have to ask them.
Longterm plan: I want to ride my last professional year with an American domestic team. Maybe live in Santa Cruz, ride four hours, go the beach and bbq some steaks.
It is time to pull some new kit on.Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly
Bike kit just gets nicer and nicer. We’ve never ridden in such comfort, and style. The big brands are doing good work, but a lot of the new development is also thanks to the smaller brands—companies that might only produce a handful of items.
What follow are five pieces of kit we’ve been riding, and loving, day in and day out, be it on our weekend riders or our commute to work:
I finally got shoe game back on track in a sweet, styling way. If you told me a couple of years ago, I would be lusting after a pair of lace up bicycle shoes, and in a particular a pair of lace up mountain bike shoes, I would have called you crazy. And even after seeing Taylor Phinney hammering his bike in a pair of metallic silver shoes with bright green laces, I still couldn’t quite get my excitement on. It wasn’t until I almost had my hands, nay feet, on a pair of the limited edition camo Giro Empires when the hook was sunk.
And now I finally got my hands on a pair of the new VR90s I am officially smitten with laces. There have been plenty of reviews and online chatter about the benefits of the lace system. If they are to be believed you can get a overall better fit without hotspots, over a buckle system. I have never suffered from hotspots, so I can’t speak to this claim. But like almost all the Giro shoes I have worn over the last few years they make some of the most comfortable riding shoes, right out of box, being sold today. Sure, lacing up takes a little more time and adjusting on the fly is nearly impossible, but damn if I don’t look pimp and feel surprisingly cozy.
I want one of everything Cadence Collection makes. I can’t say that about very many companies, but it is completely true about Cadence. I’m not sure how they do it, but they make some of the most distinctive, stylish and comfortable kit being put out by any of the small players. They seem to be able to straddle the line between distinctive and poppin’ without ever rolling over into the garish or distasteful.
I’ve been on a couple of big fondos in the last couple of months and I almost always find myself wanting to yell CADENCE when I spot someone in their kit. Which must mean they are doing something right. We’re digging the Tempo Light in particular.
This has been the rainiest spring I can remember here in New Mexico. Every afternoon it clouds up, the winds start whipping and then it dumps. The weather is great for the local aquifer since we’re in a drought, but it’s a pain in the ass to ride home through. My saving grace has been the 7mesh Revelation Jacket.
The thing is made from Gore-Tex Pro, which you don’t see for bike jackets, and it’s like wearing a force field. I stay bone dry, plus it cuts the wind and cold. The design is also spot on, with a perfect cut for the bike, and side vents that let me reach in and access my jersey pockets. The cost is WAY up there—nearly five bills—but think of it like an investment. You should have this jacket for decades to come.
People like to talk about one-quiver bikes, and one-quiver skis—well, the Haskell is the one-quiver short. They’re great for riding your mountain or commuter bike with a slim cut but a huge range of motion.
They’re also great for picnics, playgrounds with the kids, soccer, watching television, drinking beer or anything else you can think of. I literally live in these shorts when the weather’s warm. All that movement comes from a nylon/spandex mix that’s wicked stretchy but also plenty tough. If you take a spill in the hills the shorts will be fine. And if you get caught in the rain a DWR finish means you won’t look like a wet dog.
This shirt is not a piece of bike kit. But whatevs. It’s cool, and I use it on my bike anyway. Just last week I had it on while I road through the foggy streets of San Francisco and it kept me warm but breathed just enough so I didn’t sweat out when I had to climb a couple hills. Made by the smart folks over at Topo, it stands out just enough from the normal flannel and is plenty nice to wear into work, or the bar, or to your inlaw’s house for dinner.
If you’re near your mountain bike, try this. Hop on and position yourself like you just came around a corner and dropped into a nasty chute. Drop your saddle, and notice what has to happen with your hand to make that happen. Wrist rotating, hand sliding in, thumb unwrapping, fingers coming off the brake lever, none of which is desirable or advisable once you’re in the chunk. Add this to the list of pressing issues that our dysfunctional congress just can’t seem to address.
Thank God someone in this country stepped up. Lindarets just made my life a little better with the ReMount, a simple solution to mount many dropper remotes horizontally, like the paddle of a shifter. With one-by drivetrains becoming commonplace, it allows the remote to move right under the thumb when mounted on the left side of the bar. It also works with front shifter setups, although the positioning is more limited.
I am running a Giant dropper on one of my bikes and although I love the post, I can’t count the number of times I have wanted to drop but was too puckered to get to the remote; so this was a great platform to try out the Remount.
Install was quick and painless. The mount is made from Delrin, which means it will snap over the bar without removing grips. And the Delrin is less likely to damage carbon bars in a crash. I mounted in next to a front shifter, and it’s slim enough to slide under the Shimano indicator window. The next day I headed out to ride in an area with plenty of tech and quick transitions. By they end of that ride I was more comfortable with the remote in its new home than I was after a year of using it in its old spot. Not only is it much easier to get to, it’s a more natural thumb action with faster engagement.
The ReMount is compatible with most remotes, the big exception being the Reverb. It’s made in the USA, and is $19 shipped in the US. For the price of a burger and a couple pints, my ride is safer, faster and more full of giggles.
