Further to yesterday’s post, I should make it clear that ample tire clearance, versatility, wide-range gearing, “gravel bikes” or whatever we’re calling them this week, and The Many Supple Tire Offerings Of Jan Heine are all good things. Mostly I was just making the point that versatile road bikes are nothing new, and if anything the era of the “thong bikini” bike (minimal clearance for asscrack-width tires, only appropriate for the road in the same way the bikini is only appropriate for the beach) was relatively short-lived, though it was recent enough that it still defines the road bike for many.
At the same time, bikinis are undeniably titillating; moreover, even if you’re an aging cyclist, the urge to parade around in a banana hammock can sometimes get the better of you, however ill-advised it may be:
The carbotanium LeMond just barely clears 25mm tires, and it’s pictured here against a wooded backdrop into which I’d never steer it, but it’s still a sheer pleasure to ride, and a rolling tribute to a time when, rather than simply building in a few extra millimeters of tire clearance to improve the ride quality while netting the rider some versatility in the bargain, designers sought to improve ride quality by gluing carbon and titanium together at great expense–and it seems to have worked, because I can only describe the bike as “thupple.” (This is because the word “supple” is the new “laterally stiff yet vertically compliant,” so I can’t say it without biting my tongue.)
If the Tete de Course were mine I’d outfit it a bit more conservatively with 32-spoke (or more) wheels and traditional handlebars, but like an overbearing parent I have a way of trying to turn everything into the same bike, so I’m resisting the urge and letting this one be the chariot of early-to-mid aughts exotica that it wants to be. One noteworthy bauble with which it is adorned is the Zipp crank, which looks pedestrian by today’s standards, but was quite rarefied for the time:
James Huang liked it, noting its stiffness (the notion that riders can discern stiffness in a crank is one of the most ludicrous ideas in cycling, which is saying a lot), though the ISIS bottom bracket only got two and a half yellow shirts:
And yes, $1,000 for a crank and bottom bracket was extremely expensive for a crank and bottom bracket in 2006. That would be over $1,500 today! For that money you can get a Dura-Ace crank with a power meter that tells you exactly how bad you suck:
And you’ll have enough money left over to pick up a pre-bonded Ultegra or Dura-Ace replacement on eBay after it falls apart:
[Via here.]
Of course ISIS bottom brackets don’t have a great reputation, but if this one acts up Jan Heine has me covered:
I was never one for boutique cranksets, and even at my most far gone I’d never have spent that kind of money just to save weight. However, I did use Dura-Ace 7700 back when I was “serious,” and it’s been enlightening to ride it again for the first time in over 20 years:
Nine speeds seem positively quaint now, but back in those days it was…uh, one more than eight:
It also really made a difference on those climbs, according to Pavel Tonkov:
See, a 39×25 low gear on a 9-speed system climbs much better than a 39×25 on an 8-speed system. It’s just common sense. If you don’t believe me ask Abraham Olano:
When asked to elaborate, Olano further explained that the reason it’s better is that nine is more than eight, after which he turned around and attempted to read the sign behind him without success for a minute and a half before giving up.
The man is nothing if not a deep thinker:
All that aside, apparently Dura-Ace 7700 was also lighter than the old 8-speed stuff by over 500 grams, which actually is pretty impressive–and it really did work beautifully. In fact it still works beautifully even by today’s standards, as I’m finding now that I’ve got the Tete de Course. In the ensuing years I’ve spent lots of time with all sorts of roadie stuff including Di2 and newer Dura-Ace, and while ergonomics and all that stuff is subjective, 9-speed Dura-Ace remains up there with any of it. The shifters are also very reliable, and given the widespread availability and low cost of 9-speed consumables you could keep a road bike with a 7700 drivetrain running easily and cheaply for roughly forever. Lower gearing isn’t a problem either, thanks to compact cranks and the fact that Shimano 9-speed shifters work with about a zillion different derailleurs. You just need to be able to accept the exposed shifter cables–which you realize is actually a feature once you need to change your shifter cables.
Then came 10-speed, and while the Hollowtech II crank in particular (I admit I am a Hollowtech II apologist) was an improvement…
…you could make an argument that that 7700 was kind of special in that it was thoroughly modern and extraordinarily reliable, and yet is probably the last Shimano drivetrain that wouldn’t seem out of place on a classic road bike. Moreover, one could also argue that nine speeds is the perfect number for a performance bicycle, and that beyond that nobody really notices, except the sorts of people who pretend that they can discern crank flex.
I mean it’s no friction system, but it’s pretty good.
