Shimano Di2 Kills Ridgemont!

With the debut last year of Shimano's new Dura Ace Di2 electronic shifting system, it seems cyclists have stepped back to watch the latest schoolyard fight between industry giants. The technology has been around for 20 years, but only recently had the technology allowed a viable product to reach the market. In the past few years we've seen incremental changes in shifting technology: Rather than making the 10 cog cassette better, Campy jacked it up to 11 and SRAM has received raves for its double tap system for customized efficient shifting.

With the Di2, Shimano took the "solution in search of a problem" approach and they did it in spades. When it was first introduced the skeptics gathered round to wait for the first mis-shift or chain slip. When that didn't happen they then surmised that once the dust settled from the announcement, it would short out the system. That didn't happen either. As more professionals have been given the Di2 the more Shimano has proven the strength of the technology with clean, crisp, accurate and reliable shifting. The Di2 system has even made it into the cyclocross scene where it performed flawlessly while caked in mud as documented by the Velonews article below.

http://velonews.competitor.com/2009/10/bikes-tech/cross-electrified-shimanos-di2-group-hits-the-dirt_99000

Even the "connoisseur" cyclist has to choke on his vomit and admit that the system seems to be working and working well. I had the opportunity to try it on a Colnago C50 a couple months back and the chain immediately shifted from cog to cog. Efficient.

Now...

With the technology proving itself in the field, the issue ... ahem... shifts from purely an issue of technology into the realm of cycling philosophy. Sure, there will still be those who will live or die with Campy for its Italian pedigree or hate Shimano for its lack of rebuildability or its ubiquitousness. But I imagine both Campagnolo and SRAM have a similar system in the works and eventually the technology will trickle down to the lower gruppos and electronic shifting will be the next STI lever.

The professionals don't really have room to choose and will race whatever their sponsors tell them to race and it will trickle down to all the wannabe professionals, poseurs, wannabes, those racing out from inside a mid-life crisis... basically anyone who wants to have what the pros use regardless and have the money to buy it.

For those of us who have a choice, the philosophy of what cycling means becomes an integral part of the equation.

Is cycling simply about physical performance on a bike? Does it matter how we ride as long as the legs are pumping at the pedals or does the joy of cycling come from learning the skill to pull off smooth and effective shifts in different situations under strain and exhausted. Is there anything to the skill of tuning and knowing one's bike? Is there something about being fully involved that adds to the experience? I keep thinking of the opening sequence of the classic documentary, A Sunday In Hell and how much care the cyclist puts into his steed. He knows every inch of the bike and cared for it like a soldier cares for his rifle.

Is this like the difference between manual and automatic cars (I know you still choose when to shift on Di2)? I like manual because I feel like I am "driving" the car, but manual allows me to worry less in city situations and starting at a stoplight on a wet hill. Does the Di2 take anything away from the riding experience that will make all bikes feel like they operate the same?

I just don't know.

Weather or Not to Ride

After 5 days of Lunar New Year rain wind and cold, the weather breaks just in time for the regular work week to start. May we only get rainfall on recovery days. I can do the cold, but the rain I avoid.

Cycling Interest Rate Drops

According to this link below the recent bicycle fad in Taiwan has passed and sales are dropping back down to normal levels.

Not long after the spike in fuel prices in 2008 cycling joined egg tarts and hoola-hoops as another Taiwanese fad. Since Taiwan is the world's largest producer of bicycles it brought an added public awareness of cycling as recreation and as a sport.

In a prestige culture, such as Taiwan's , cycling embodies the image of affluence, foreign knowledge and leisure. It embodies the value of technically advanced equipment and a smart looking kit. Cycling, if done right, looks clean, sleek and graceful and has its "Top Guns". Unlike current Taiwanese values, cycling involves hard, physical work and outdoor training to become a strong rider. Many Taiwanese do not value physical exercise and it is not promoted as a worthwhile past time for children when they could be in cram school or learning an instrument. Exposure to direct sunlight is discouraged and brown skin is still regarded as "ugly".

This is not surprising as traditional Han cultures have equated strong, muscular physiques and brown skin with degradation and barbarism.

Many of the Qing era records of frontier peoples fixate on the athletic and muscular physiologies of their object. Frontier gazette paintings would often exaggerate the body types of indigenous peoples in contrast to the more "refined" Han. This imaging is still in use today, valid or not in the process of "othering" the Aborigines in Taiwan. Despite the high value Taiwanese put on science and mathematics there is still a tendency to project folk beliefs into understanding human physiology. One traditional belief is that skin color was a direct corollary to the purity of food and thus influenced the character of the person. The enlightened or degraded properties of a person could be determined by their diet and location. Location, of course, meant proximity to the Emperor. This helped to explain the "savagery" of the frontier. These folk beliefs were later incorporated into Sun Yat-sen ideology and largely contributed to the racialism at the core of contemporary Chinese nationalism.

To bring this back into the frame of cycling:

It is not uncommon to ride past indigenous villages where the people are represented by statues depicting "braves" in traditional dress, rippling with muscles like action figures, hunting or holding their traditional knives. These images only serve to reinforce the otherness of the Aborigine and create distance from non-Aborigines and affirm their need to be tamed by the Sunism of the R.O.C.

I guess I am probably straining to relate these ideas together, but I do think cycling as a popular activity in Taiwan highlights several conflicting values in contemporary Taiwanese cultural life and some of the anxieties of cultural change in Taiwan.

Still, an expensive carbon frame becomes a Rolex, BMW or Apple computer; a demonstration of ...er... mobility.

http://life.chinatimes.com/2007Cti/2007Cti-Rtn/2007Cti-Rtn-Content/0,4526,110107+112010022200430,00.html

To Gu Guan and Beyond... (just barely) :

On Saturday Michael and I took the opportunity between the days of drizzle to explore the mythical Central Passage, a rumored short cut to the base of Li Shan along the dirt track formerly known as the Central Cross Island Highway. According to some sources, the route is passable with dirt tires despite the continued construction and frequent avalanches. It sounded a bit dangerous and perfect for some high adventure.

I had taken the Central Cross in about 2000 on a motorcycle after they had cleared it following the great 921 earthquake in 1999. At that time the road was terrible. There were long tunnels filled with deep potholes and debris. I arrived in Hua Lien in 8 hours unable to sleep with visions of "road" in my head.

The road was later buried again in subsequent earthquakes and storms, but it seemed passable by light vehicle. I guess not. The danger of avalanche is currently too great to allow bicycles to pass through.

On this particular trip we left Tanzi and followed the Highway 3 to Dong Shih. Several of the buildings in Dong Shih were built following the 921 quake. I still have vivid memories of the town just days after the quake when over 500 residents lost their lives. Every time I pass through the memories come back. In Dong Shih we connected the to Highway 8 and headed East.

The Highway 8 is a four lane road with very little in the way of a shoulder, so at times the traffic can be a little annoying. Some assholes really don't know how close to pass a cyclist, some don't care, and some delight in seeing how close they can get.

The scenery of the Da Jia river valley is gorgeous. Most of the road is quite smooth. We saw a half dozen pace lines go by at high speeds. Cycling clubs seem to enjoy fast group rides down the river valley due to the slight grade which allows even the novice to reach impressive speeds. I never did see any groups going up river.

There are a few places to eat and hydrate along the way. Lots of sweet sausage stands.

I strapped on a new set of knobbies for the trip and didn't get to use them. It was such a shame too, considering how baddass they make a bike look.

We eventually arrived at Gu Guan after about 2.5 hours or so. Gu Guan is a little like a Kenting in the mountains. Taiwanese like to come here for romantic trysts at the hotels with natural hot spring water piped into the rooms. Going out for a hot spring just sounds better than going to a motel. Funny how nobody has trouble telling friends and coworkers about going to the hot spring, but they would never announce going to a motel for some "wham bam".

After dodging tourists in Gu Guan we wound up the virtually abandoned road to a check point. The betelnut eater at the checkpoint told us there was no possibility of entering the area so we turned tail in retreat. All in all it was a great ride. From my house in Taichung City to Gu Guan and back, it was about 75-80 miles total. Our maximum elevation was slightly under 3000ft. A lot of fun.

Conti Buy Me Love

I just need to take a moment to express my love for the Continental 4000 Grand prix. I have been using these 25c Contis as my primary road tire for two years and they still haven't worn through. They are sticky in corners. They hold in the wet. They roll like the beejeebus. They rock like the Magi-Kist. In theory, an aluminum frame is supposed to be "harsh" and pick up "road noise" or whatever the big bike companies would like to sell you with a $4000 carbon frame. The proper wheels with properly inflated tires can tune the feel of most bikes for maximum comfort.

Although I could max out my Contis at 120psi, I usually opt for 90-100psi front and 100-110 rear in dry conditions. There have been days when I haven't followed my own rule and pumped up to the max... resulting in a jarring ride and back ache. Many riders worry about "road resistance" and the feeling is that maxed out tires will ride faster because there will be less contact with the road. Actually this doesn't matter as much as the ability to maintain a constant speed over the full spectrum of normal road riding.

These Contis rock!!!

SiMa XianShan (100 Miles of Pain)

SiMa XianShan

The hardest single hill climb I have ever done was this route up the Da An River. I had been thinking about this trip for a while as it is one of my favorite places in Taiwan. Just outside of Juolan in central Taiwan there is a road that parallels the Da An River. It is a gorgeous ride up into some Atayal villages.

The first time I went up there I was looking for the route a group of Pazih (Pazeh) speaking people used to cross into the Puli basin in the 19th Century. One of my 96 year-old Pazih contacts recalled the story of how her great grandfather packed up the family from near the Nei She area below the Long Teng Broken Bridge to join other Pazih speakers in Ailan. Some of the family remained in the area and have since forgotten their Pazih ancestry and have become "Ex-Aborigines". My Pazih friend knew her family had hiked into Puli, but didn't know from where. I figured the Da An river was a good candidate for the route out of Juolan.

Up the Da An river there are a handful of villages primarily inhabited by Atayal speakers. The mountains rise up right out of the river and the sense of "wow!" can quickly overtake you. You can pass Elephant Nose village and go on to the bridge under Sky Dog village. What might not be apparent is that you are sitting right in the line of fire of Japanese light artillery.

During the first 40 years of the Japanese colonial period in Taiwan (1895-1935), the Japanese administration set out to "pacify and subdue" the highland indigenes who inhabited the mountains of

central Taiwan. Much of the impetus for this was colonial in nature, in the repetitive cycle of the government continually seeking to exploit the resources the indigenous people seek to retain. We are seeing this phenomenon again in the aftermath of Typhoon Morikot as the Ma administration seeks to remove indigenous peoples from their current homes and move them into new homes outside their traditional and commercially viable locations.

After several years of combat the Japanese succeeded in installing several artillery pieces on several strategic mountainsides to better control the indigenous peoples. From the installation on the mountain above, the Japanese had control over the three valleys below. The remains of the base are not entirely visible at first, but if you inspect the site a little more the trench works, barracks, and gun emplacements come into view. It wasn't quite The Guns of Navarone, but it is easy to imagine the area as a military outpost on a colonial frontier.

When I did this ride I arrived at the base of SiMa XianShan and started my climb. The road keeps rising up with some serious sections of steep ascents. There are a few mellow areas where you can catch your legs, but then the road takes off again. Sky Dog (Tian Gou) village makes a good place to hydrate. They seem to be trying to turn it into a tourist village, but there is still a lot to do. It was a rough, rough climb. I finally got to the top to find a bunch of mountain bike riders playing on the trails. They had all driven up the back side in cars. Bastards! I chatted them up for a while until the idea to continue up hill another 300 meters to the Japanese base. It would have made for great pictures, but I wanted to start my descent.

For this ride I put on my 32c fast dirty tires because the roads had been washed out on prior trips. The descent goes alog a cliffside road through tall cedars before going back to the jungle. The road is a little slick with light debris over the pavement and some steep descents where the braking gets technical. The rule of thumb is to stay right at every intersection if it is unmarked. It will spit you out into Dahu. The climb takes you 1640ft. from the river to the peak.

I hit the Highway 3 home, but I forgot about all the long, rolling hills on the way back. I rode embarrassingly slow as I lost time and hours of daylight. At the top of the hill over Juolan I took the LiYu Tan Rd. over the south side of the reservoir. I love this road, but I was too beat to enjoy it. I finally limped back to Feng Yuan on the 13, which has one last annoying hill at the end. It took me way too long, but not a bad ride at all.

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Hill Century

Taichung-Guoxing-Puli-Sun Moon Lake and Home.

One fantastic route through the foothills of central Taiwan starts in Taichung. The #129 starts you off with a wake up hill climb up the "Death Spiral", a curving narrow road that rapidly snakes up 200 meters from the base to peak. From the top you can spin out the acids on the flat XieZhong Rd. to the Fengpu Industry Rd. I would suggest loading up on liquids and food at one of the 7-11 stores here. There isn't much to eat or drink until Puli or Guoxing if you are lucky to pass through on a busy day. This is a real relaxing back way through valleys and descents to the base of Highway 21.

The 21 starts as a nice even climb along a wide, smooth road along a shady set of switchbacks up the mountain. It is not too hard to get some speed through the middle sections before a long, straight climb to the 3000ft. peak. There are no switchbacks for relief. Luckily there is a store with water

and toilet at the top. The descent into Guoxing is a fast set of switchbacks on good roads. This is one of the only places I wish I had a better descending bike. The curves are delicious and there are several opportunities to break well past 30mph (48kph). There is a betel nut stand at the bottom of the descent where you can get water.

From Guoxing you can go straight on the Highway 14 all the way out to Caotun or stick with the Highway 21. The 21 takes you up a moderate ascent and then into a long, flat valley past the old bridge that was entirely held together with sugar paste. I kid you not. The joy ride ends at the base of another tough climb. Maybe it is not that tough. I don't know. It was really hot when I did it and wasn't carrying enough water or food. The hill is about 1000ft. from lowest to highest point and levels off in flat, red farmland. You can wind up a lot of speed before a very fast descent into Puli city.

The Highway 21 just goes right through Puli City out to Sun Moon Lake. I hate Sun Moon Lake. It is an eyesore with over development. So after a long 200 meter climb out of Puli I just took the Local 131 out to Shui li. This is a fantastic road after all that climbing. It just seems to go down. There are a couple little rollers in there, but it just makes adding kilometers easy. Shui li is a great place to fuel up, hydrate and then beat the Highway 16 to the Highway 3 for the long haul through Nantou, Caotun, Wufeng, Dali and into Taichung. 100 hilly miles never felt so good.

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