"Smooth as silk; soft, firm and bouncy in the right places."
"Worth the money?"
"And some - recommended."
"Will you upgrade her?"
"Nah, she looks good in her winter boots, but when I want to go hard and fast, I'll take them off."
Peter looked impressed with my account of my new steed, a Cannondale CAADX, bought at a great price at Tri Store in Eastbourne. The 'winter boots' refers to the wheel and tyre package the bike came with - 32 spoke wheels with 35mm rubber, weighing 3.8kg. They provide a very comfy ride but, as you can imagine, not a very fast or responsive one. I swapped in a pair of Giant PSL-1 wheels wearing Conti 4 Season tyres, taking a kilo off the weight and making the bike that bit faster for the chain gang. The surprise though was the ride - it lost the squishy feel that the 'Sammy Slicks' provided, but I realised that a lot of the 'suspension' comes from the fork and frame. They are a superb combination, almost as smooth as a Trek Domane with the Iso-whatsit bendy bit in the frame.
This week's chain gang was windier than last week's, and that is saying something. Twelve daft buggers turned up and rolled off as one group at 19:27, led from the front by Stuart 'Mega-Power' Hodd and Michael 'Mad Max' Maxwell. Tucked in behind were me and Barney, then the other eight riders. We gave those at the front some encouragement:
"Ok, we've warm now, you can speed up."
"What's the hold up?"
"Are you unwell Michael?"
"You do the outward leg and we'll do the return - it's only fair."
I don't recall their response, other than an earlier-than-usual command from 'El Capitan' Hodd to rotate the lead.
Oh Lordy. The wind was vicious, but it was at least a constant blast, rather than a series of hard gusts that can catch you unawares. Going down the outside was tough work, especially when riding with the faster guys. I think six or seven of the better riders pulled away on South Cliff, their superior power carrying forward that bit quicker.
I fell into a trio with John V and Steve B, each of us fighting to take a turn at the front. Steve was working very hard on his fixie, panting and getting out of the saddle to take the lead. John and he pulled away from me on Herbrand, John not easing as I would have liked when on the front, but no doubt he thought I wasn't not putting in a hard enough shift. Kindly, he and Steve eased off after the level crossing, allowing me to catch them before the stretch to the Star Inn. I lasted as far as (you've guessed it) Spooky Hill, where they left me again and rightly rode on. I'd been given my chance and they were fairing better in the conditions than me.
I had a solo ride from the crest of the hill to the roundabout. I've ridden in worse conditions - it was at least warm and dry last night - but it's never much fun beating a path into the dark and wind on your own. John, Steve and I all encountered the same half-wit driver, driving in the middle of the road with a blinding array of spotlights. I think the driver saw me, but I'm not sure! I presume they are a frustrated Paris-Dakar wannabe.
We waited for the remaining riders to arrive, giving them 20 seconds or so to catch their breath, before pulling out into the stream of wind that would power us home. And what power - it was like stepping into a fast-running river! I bagged a couple of nice PRs around Spooky, but Barney showed us his awesome power on the west to east slope. I was at the front as the group went around the wet, puddly area at the base. I thought I was doing quite well, but then Barney went storming by, out of the saddle, having turned on the turbo boost. He was up that slope like a whippet after a rabbit - a blur of legs and flapping ears. Zzzziiiipppp and gone, with Stuart and then the other Ultras whizzing by in his wake. A sonic boom echoed over the marshes and I cried out 'bastards' in mock hatred.
For the second time last night, I was humbled by some gentlemanly conduct. Alex Smith eased off enough at the top to let me back on, shouting encouragement. I pushed as hard as I could and just about caught his wheel before we pelted down the slope towards the level crossing, but I was never fully attached and Alex banked around the bend some 10 metres ahead of me. I was spinning the pedals as fast as I could, but I lacked the power to push a higher gear and the faster group pulled away. I eased to a pace I could maintain for the rest of the ride, revelling in the extra power the wind gave me. Must-have-more-power... Argh!
It was great fun, even if I was again riding solo. I turned after the level crossing and felt the wind push me on with urgent haste, up the slight slope by the first huts, before the flat stretch by the shingle. A commuter was riding unbelievably slowly, hugging the chainlink fence - I blew past him at high speed and was gone before he could say 'what the..?' The road rises again slightly as you reach the second batch of huts and the houses, but every extra push with the legs was doubled in power by the rushing wind. The feeling of high speed, magnified by the dark, made progress appear near-effortless. And so it continued all the way along Cooden Drive, as I made good time, if not my best to the lights, then a short rest before returning with Peter Buss to Normans Bay.
We rode into the wind and tried to have a conversation. This was hindered by Peter's increasing deafness and by the wind, which ripped my words apart before they could reach his cloth-ears. I had to repeat everything I said, at ever-increasing volume, at least three times. He will no doubt claim that he was pretending not to hear me in order to provoke me, but I know that he is more than a little 'mutt'. It would try the patience of a saint, it really would. Why oh why doesn't he get a hearing aid? Pride, I guess. Vanity - huh! I dunno, mutter, mutter... Anyhow, we resorted to exchanging insults and name calling - neither of us had a problem hearing then!
Mini bike review
As you might have gathered, I've taken the plunge and bought a winter / bad weather bike. I guess we all live with the pressure of 'n+1', where n = the number of bikes we currently have, and '1' equals the perceived need for another. I justify my purchase on the basis of not messing up my 'best' bike anymore than it is already, having ridden it in all weathers and for two winters. The bottom bracket needs changing, as do all the cables and the derailleurs. The paint on the seat tube is scabby and flaky, but it is a light bike for one with an aluminium frame at under 8kg with the stock wheels (the Giant PSL-1s mentioned above). It needs a rebuild.
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| Cannondale CAADX gets The Thumbs Up From Neil! |
The new beast is a rather more manly, butch and thumpingly-chunky 10.3kg. As already described, nearly 4 kg of that is in the wheels and tyres. They ride beautifully over bad surfaces and, downhill at least, are no slower than any other wheels. Riding uphill is more of a challenge, but it's not as bad as you might think, even with 'just' a nine-speed Sora cassette. The stock wheels and tyres will be pressed into service on winter BBRs rides, where the extra grip and cushioning will be handy across the Rickney Marshes. The chain set is 46-36, but that big ring is still good for 60kph with the 11 tooth at the back. I'm really struck by how over-geared my better bike is, with a 53-39 and 12-28 set-up. It's early days, but I'm interested to see whether the tighter, lower gearing will get fuller use than the higher and wider set-up. However, the gear change is not as slick as the Ultegra on the 'best' rig - everything happens quite slowly, but the changes are positive.
Changing the wheels over has taken a good amount of weight off. I guess I could make more savings by changing the seatpost, saddle, bars and stem, and I might next year. The frame is worth it - I don't know the weight, but the ride it gives is superb, a real pleasure to go out on. It will take mudguards AND - get this - it has sparkly black paint. How many of you can say the same, eh? Yeah, thought so. Oh, just remembered that I think Barney has a sparkly orange bike - damn, foiled again, just let me win, just once, with sparkles (walks away whimpering...).
Regards, Neil
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