Redlands bike classic Swiss style wrench support: day 1

Show up around 6 he says. That wakes me up (and I use this term as loose as possible) at 5:25. If I wake up early for a ride, I generally allow for about 30 minutes to get something in my belly and slip into my superhero outfit that I usually put out the night before. This morning it would seem is a little less labor intensive, however I did need to robocop some poor woman's expensive carbon bike yesterday, as chronicled here in her blog, so I figured I would give myself 10 minutes less at 5:20 to insure against any would be curveballs.

I roll in promptly at 6, lock up my whip due to the recent crime spree in Redlands, and due to the fact that the idiot that is now facing felony charges for stealing my somewhat suped-up commuting turd and I crossed paths notoriously not even a week ago. Now, on to what would normally be an item that trumps all others at this God forsaken hour: Coffee.

I visit the good people at Greater Good coffee (<---- see what I did there? It's not just a clever name!). Kris and her crew make me an iced coffee, which, by the way IS the best in town, as far as iced coffee goes. For everything else, Stell is still tough to beat. At any rate even though they were closed, they helped me out with my am fix.

Back to the start line, i sat waiting for somebody to tell me what to do, if i was doing something other than fix bikes. And if I was to fix bikes, i was somewhat un prepared. Limited tools, no stand, no solvents. At some point Scott Tickmeyer offers his truck to go beef up my tech setup, namely, get my stand. I do so. When I get back Tom Belaszka shows up with wheels and other support items. I go thru a girl's front shifting, which is throwing her chain outboard due in part to a bent derailleur cage. After some brief cave-man adjustments and an even brief-er come to Jesus conversation about finding a new derailleur, she was ready(ish). Then the best thing all weekend happened.

Bart miller to the rescue. To those who don't know, Bart is the man. USA cycling mechanic, former euro racer, all around bad ass MC. And with him, he brought his bad ass MC tool kit. More fairly shot girls rigs needed adjusting, the crowned princess of which was a girl who complained of being un able to shift into higher gear with her rear shifter. I checked it out, sure as day, just as she described. Bart was thinking it was the shifter, I was thinking cable, both of which would be and is equally plausible. Upon looking at the cable access while Bart shifted, i noticed the cable head stick out as he attempted to shift into higher gear, which confirmed it was cable. Bart checks the rear as i check the front portion of cable and housing, and bang, there it is. I ask her when she installed the aero-bars, to which she replied the night before. She had clamped the clip on bars around her shifting cable housing which prevented the cable from un-spooling and releasing the the derailleur further outboard. She felt bad. I didn't. I've seen normal people make similar mistakes, the REAL tragedy was this girl who somebody deemed talented enough to pay for her bike skills didn't have the means or desire (hopefully the latter) to hire somebody to make sure she had a proper running bike, which is somewhat important for a stage racer. Sucks. From then on it was tweeking people's bikes to fit the jig for aerodynamic standards and legality. The most difficult adjustment was a rider's clip on aero bars which extended him too far into a superman type position (not legal). From what the gentleman said, this particular set of aero bars were praised for their ease of adjustablity. What's true is they had many options of adjustability, but I assure you ease did not enter into any of the options. I won't bad mouth the company here, so if anybody wants to know what brand they were, lemme know, I'll give you the 411, and even adjust them for you, as after this ordeal, I have a black belt in adjusting them. It took me and Bart as a combo about 45 minutes to adjust those bastards. The racer who they belonged to assured me after that that was world record time compared to his installation time. Kind of a relief.

That pretty much sums it up for that day. I will say the most interesting part of the whole ordeal was that women were pumped on any help they got and dudes basically looked over both shoulders to see if their techs were looking to ask for a 5mm wrench or us to pump up their tires to an unreasonable pressure. One group with zero support, one group with more than they could handle. Interesting, huh?

Beer is for breakfast around here...

Pro women bike racers get the freakin' shaft from a mechanical standpoint. Every year droves of femme-powerhouses line up with the most hosed down death-traps to ever grace the peloton. A couple of years ago a girl came in with a headset issue. I literally don't know how she got it to the bike shop without breaking the frame. They were drop in campy style bearings, and the preload was SO loose, that i think the bearings might have been shook loose from their in frame races. No kidding. Last year due to some savvy negotiating by a mechanic, i glued about 8 sets of tubulars for a women's team, and the glue job that had been done previously, was insane. The ease of removal of said tires reminded me of this little ditty.
(sorry for the pause for corporate mind raping)

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia: Pulling Teeth
- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

I BARELY pulled. Every year they are so appreciative. So appreciative that they bring bottle after bottle, case after case, growler after growler of everybody's favorite liquid: Beer.

Now, i know what you're thinking; 10 out of 9 mechanics love to receive an oat soda in return for for their mechanical prowess. Now that is pre-supposing that a mechanic likes the taste of beer. Now on that, i cannot argue, as i have yet to find an exception to the rule, including yours truly. However, being as if the taste of beer is accompanied by alcohol, it unleashes a ferrous, stark-raving animal that lurks in a black, normally ignored corner of my otherwise shiny and happy soul, i think everybody would agree it is best to let well enough alone, and just leave me dry. I'm a fast and loose unruly asshole as it is, you wanna add alcohol to that equation? That's what i thought.

So here's the thing, i'm thinking i wanna start making the standard bartering chip for bike mechanic's expertise something that i have been thinking is long overdue to get big among our ranks: Heroin.

Now hear me out. Everybody drinks beer. Especially bike mechanics. Even those who end up punting the job and send someone careening into the curb because the silicone polish on their braking surface actually made them accelerate when they applied the brakes. Even that dude gets beer. I seen it happen. So if i do an extra special job on your rig and you end up with a bucket of dates to show for your 25th lap sprint preem, wouldn't you agree i deserve something with a little more kick? Lou Reed seemed to enjoy the stuff immensely, and i am a huge Lou Reed fan.

Heroin bike racers, heroin. Where are you supposed to get ahold of this stuff? Your problem, not mine. My problem is "Perfect Day" on repeat with what i would imagine amounts to about a tenth of the potential understanding for the melody and lyrics. On heroin that song blows my mind. Guarantee it. Having said that, here's a glimpse of what you'd have on your hands if i had about a half a beer in my tummy. What can i say? I'm a cheap date.

Alright alright alright

Pulled into goleta at 8-ish, went to dinner at outback, ready as I'm gonna be for the 100 miles tomorrow, headed for bed with dazed and confused playing in the background. Good times to follow, pics to prove it too.