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Sync’ing Odometers

08.25.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 10 Comments

I’m on my third cyclocomputer since I started riding. It’s a Cateye V2c, and is the best of them all, because it’s wireless and has cadence as well as the usual assortment of current, average and maximum speed readings. It gives me everything I want to know about a ride (Okay, being able to see the percent grades of my favorite local climbs would be nice too) without involving the steep cost of a GPS unit.

However, I do have a minor gripe: accuracy. I’ve noticed that with each computer I’ve owned, I get different distances for the same route.

My benchmark ride is a trip from my house to the Austin Veloway, three laps of the track, and back home. It’s my 15-mile ride. To be precise, it’s 14.9 miles — 2.8 from my house to the Veloway, three laps at  3.1 miles per lap, or 9.3 miles, and 2.8 miles home. But my computer clocks it at 14.7.

Now, you adjust your computer according to the outside circumference of your tire. A 23 mm tire should have a circumference of 2096 mm, and the instruction book that comes with the computer suggests setting it to that number. But tires flex, and since my computer’s sensors are on the rear wheel, which carries the most weight, I thought I would measure by hand.

I positioned the bike on the garage floor so the rear wheel’s valve was perpendicular to the ground. A black Sharpie made a hash mark on the floor. Then I got on the bike and pushed off with my feet for one rotation of the tire. Used the Sharpie to mark the floor again. When I measured the distance between the two marks, and converted from inches to centimeters, then reduced, I got — 2096.

What I thought was odd was that on my previous tires, which were 25 mm, my hand measurements also came out to 2096. So my computer readings were consistent.

Earlier computers clocked different numbers, though. A Cateye Strada measured 15.1 miles for that benchmark Veloway distance.

I’ve alluded to my finickiness when it comes to record keeping. I had to come up with a way to get accurate readings from the computer. The obvious way is compare it to a known distance.

Several years ago, I zeroed the computer at the entrance to the Veloway. As I mentioned, it’s 3.1 miles around. But a circuit of the track clocked exactly three miles on the Cateye. So if I was a tenth of a mile short for three miles, that meant that I could simply add a tenth for every three miles ridden. If the computer showed I rode 18 miles, I could add six-tenths to that distance for an accurate reading.

This jury rigged system actually worked. When I rode the MS150, the Cateye clocked the second day’s distance at 74 miles. Divide by three = 24.6 — so I could add 2.5 miles (round up the .46), and get 76.5 miles. The official route map showed the distance at 77. Getting closer.

It’s been awhile now, and I’ve been adding my tenths. But I decided last week to check the accuracy of my system again. This time a 3.1 mile lap registered 3.05 miles on the Cateye. Half a tenth off from the previous readings. That meant I could now add a tenth for every six miles ridden, instead of every three.

When I compared a couple of recent rides using this method to maps created on Ride With GPS, the new system came pretty close.

I think you’ve gotta be a certain type of personality to go through the machinations I do just to get what might or might not be an accurate measure of distance traveled. A twisted type. That’s me — accurately.

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Categories // Accessories Tags // Cateye, computer, Cyclocomputer

The Hills, Part II

08.23.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 5 Comments

Guest poster Don Blount continues his account of his struggle with the hills.

Part II

On a recent Saturday I joined a club ride, a roundtrip starting in Wallace, Calif. to Mokelumne Hill, Calif.

I thought this would be a route of about 40 miles with some 3,000 feet of climbing. I thought this would be a good test as I had completed rides of this length with just a little less vertical. In reality the ride was really 48 miles with 3,400 feet of climbing.

We started the day and I was fine. I rode from the middle to near the rear of the pack and stayed within my comfort range.

So far so good.

For a short time I had forgotten that hills are evil, and they hate me. I was actually enjoying myself!

We eventually came to a series of three long rollers. I made the first two but never recovered for the third. As Phil Liggett would say, I had cracked. And in short order, the group was long gone.

A rider riding sweep came upon me and asked if I was dizzy – I was walking or maybe even just standing at this point. She encouraged me to walk and would later tell me that I was weaving when she found me.

The sweeper continued on and disappeared over the hill. A bit later another rider came over the hill toward me. It was the cavalry. He and another rider paced me to the rest stop a few miles away.

I ate a Clif Bar, drank water and a Dr. Pepper and rested. I felt fine.

We left and I thought I would be in good shape on the return trip as the heavy climbing was behind me.

And I was fine most of the way, until we hit the last big climb of the day just after traveling over Pardee Dam, which  borders Calaveras and Amador counties in Northern California. Did I mention that the temperatures had risen and it had become quite toasty?

Now I had never before experienced leg cramps and after this day, I pray that I never do again.

The contractions in my quadriceps and hamstrings were so painful I thought the alien was going to burst through my skin. I unclipped and tried to stretch my legs. I massaged them. I pounded them. I stopped and walked. Yet the cramps came and went as they pleased.

I could not ride the inclines. I struggled to ride the flats. And I hoped my whimpering was inaudible. Any substantial stress on my legs brought on hellacious cramps.

Somehow I made it back to the starting point with the group. I purchased a 32-ounce Gatorade from a convenience store and drank it in what seemed like 30 seconds.

My legs cramped on my drive home and with less than ½ mile to my house, I pulled over because of the cramping.

Yet, I had survived the ride. In reflection people were right. Riding in the hills had brought variety to my workouts, made me a stronger rider and contributed to a weight loss. I would continue to ride them. That night I ordered an 11-28 cassette. I need to be prepared for my next time out.

Yes, I am going to continue riding in the hills, even if they hate me.

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Categories // Rides Tags // climbing, hills

The Hills, Part I

08.21.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 9 Comments

In a two-part guest post, Don Blount expresses thoughts I’ll bet many of us share when it comes to climbing hills.

Part I

Beautiful scenery goes along with riding in the hills, including this view of Camanche Lake in Amador County, California.

I have always suspected that hills hate me. Maybe not when I am walking or driving a car, during those times they seem friendly enough. But the moment I approach a hill while riding a bike, it seems that hill’s goal becomes to not allow me to get up to the top of it. Sometimes it throws me down with a vengeance, causing me great pain and suffering.

Being a peaceful man, I usually take the path of least resistance and avoid hills. That’s easy enough where I live as I can ride for miles and not approach a grade of more than 4 percent.

For the most part, I am fine with this. I do not consider myself a climber. At 5-feet, 9-inches tall and 194 pounds, I am much more comfortable on the flats and inclines. If it is short enough for me to power up with my compact crankset and 12-25 cassette, then I am game to ride it.

But people keep uttering the benefits of riding hills. “Hills will make you stronger,” they say. “Hills will make you a better rider.” And they always end with the same words: “To become stronger in the hills, you have to ride in the hills.”

To get to real climbs with grades of 8 or 9 percent or more, I have to travel about 23 miles east to the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains in Northern California.

Rarely are those hills friendly and allow me to leave with my dignity. Most of the times they are hard and determined to show me that I am not welcomed there.

So wanting to test my fitness I joined a late May club ride of 40 miles with about 2,300 feet of climbing. I survived but barely. Most of the ride I had a good look at just about everyone’s back.

After that ride I decided to commit to becoming better in the hills. A few weeks later I returned alone and did a similar solo ride of about 40 miles with 2,300 feet of climbing. I completed it.

I became a student of climbing. I read what I could find I watched videos. I watched real climbers. I meditated on climbing and channeled those who had worn the polka dot jersey.

And I went out on the club ride that kicked my rear earlier. I was in better condition, I used what I had learned, and I completed the ride successfully. Progress I thought. Maybe the hills did not hate me after all? Maybe it was time for another test, a club ride?

I put it on my schedule but oh, how little did I know that deep down hills are evil.

Watch Bike Noob for the second part of Don’s saga of the hills.

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Categories // Rides Tags // climbing, hills

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