The Gypsy -- Bianchi Gitane Fixie

Some months ago I blogged that I had received the wheels for a new fixie, custom built by Ron Ruff at White Mountain Wheels.  Sometime after that I blogged that I had destroyed the head-tube on my old aluminum Cervelo when installing the headset.  Since then the fixie has been in a holding pattern while I located an appropriate frameset.

Sometime over the summer I stumbled across Bianchi's extraordinary line-up of steel frames, which include the San Jose and Gitane framesets.  Both of those framesets sport track "drop-outs", road bike geometry, cantilever brake bosses, flattened top-tubes for easy shouldering, and 130 mm rear-hub spacing.  As best as I can tell, the only difference is the paint job.  Both are available for $399 -- frame and fork -- but I could only locate the Gitane in the real world.  I ordered one in black from Bike Attack in Santa Monica, California.

Bianchi?  Is it an Oltre? An Infinito CV?

OMG, it looks . . . metal?

Aha.  Le Gitane.  The gypsy.

 Gitane is a french brand that produced some race cycles between 30 and 50 years ago.  According to Wikipedia, some top riders pedaled Gitane bikes.  Wikipedia also claims imports into the US beginning in the '50s.  Could not have been in much volume -- I've literally never seen the brand painted on a frame until I bought this frameset! 

Of course, mine is not a racing bike, but a Gitane-branded San Jose frameset.  It nonetheless promises to be a beautiful bike.  It is time to build this bike up. 

The tentative plan:

1. Velo-Orange post and stem.
2. White Mountain Wheels custom-built wheelset.
3. Sundry parts from the bin.

Watch this space for Part II!

Crewing the 508

The view for much of the ride.

Crew:  a verb, derived from the noun "crew," conjugated as "I crew, you crew, he/she/it crews, we crew, you (pl.) crew, they crew."  Definition:  to support, feed, dress, entertain, wheedle, cajole, berate, cheer, and all-around serve an athlete who is digging deeper than anybody should ever dig.  [Not to be confused with "rowing," an action performed by a different kind of crew.  (Rowers never crew.  Rowers are a crew.)]

Sam and I flew to Reno to crew for frequent commenter Damon, who competed October 5 and 6 in the Silver State 508 ultra-cycling race.  About 40 solo riders left Reno from the Atlantis Casino at 6:30 a.m. on Sunday, October 5 and followed a circuitous route through Reno to Geiger Grade, at which point they began in earnest to race -- not merely to ride -- 508 miles out-and-back to Eureka, Nevada.  Damon was no stranger to riding long, having in the previous 15 months completed 3x24-hour races and 2x1200K rides, as well as attendant shorter preparatory events.  (See rememberingjaron.com for fuller details.)  But his 32:15 on Sunday and Monday, an average of 15.8 mph including all stops, is either a remarkable capstone or an entree to a whole new world of riding fast across mountain and desert, through hot and cold, and digging far deeper than mere ultraraces require.  Damon tells that story well here.

Sam and I were there to help.  As Ashley Hill reported in July, crewing a race like the 508 is not just advanced cheering.  Sam and I were functionally awake for 32:15 straight, in and out of the car approximately every 15 minutes during the light, driving directly behind Damon from 7:45 pm to 7:00 am at a distance of between 15' and 15 yards, mixing and handing off bottles, finding and serving food, performing minor bike maintenance, helping Damon to don and to shed clothes, and even raising our voices when needed to get Damon through the inevitable dark hours.  And things did get dark.

While crewing we had the chance to interact with other crews and cheered for riders across the front end of the field.  We saw one rider -- world-class Slovenian Marko Baloh -- only twice, once at the first stop and once as we neared the turn-around and he was on his trip home.  Nobody was realistically racing against Baloh, so the 508 involved a parade of North American athletes vying for second place.

Those US riders included Crow, Holstein, Rock Rabbit, Spotted Horse, Red-Necked Falcon, Great Basin Ichthyosaurus,  Irish Hare, and Wild Turkey; lest that sound like a late-night hallucination, Race Director Chris Kostman assigns "totems" to each athlete, an animal name the rider keeps for life after finishing the event.  Damon was "Thundercat." 

We hung with that pack for some time, exchanging pleasantries with the other crews, cheering the other riders, and working our way slowly from West to East across Nevada on US Highway 50.  That stretch of road is nick-named "the loneliest highway in the world," which somewhat overstates the remoteness but is nonetheless appropriately evocative.  (Having now driven Highway 50 through Nevada twice, I can say with some confidence the Richardson Highway north of Gakona, Alaska, is emptier.)  On Highway 50 and part of the time on Highway 722, we crossed desert mountains, salt flats, and sage-brush deserts.  One thing we never crossed after reaching about 30 miles from the start is any form of water.

It was never extremely hot -- Damon's Garmin reported 90 degrees at the peak and the car reported a peak of around 85 -- but with the altitude (between 4000 and 7500 feet), an  utter lack of cloud cover or trees, and dry air, we baked, and the riders much more so. 

We were charged with keeping Damon hydrated and satiated, no trivial task when everything seemed to upset his stomach.  At one point bloating led to a roadside purge.  We took to hiding caloric and salt powders in flavored drinks -- Carbo Pro or Skratch Mix with Coke, V8, or coffee.  Food was harder.  We crushed chips to get him simple carbohydrates, fat, and salt.  We handed off nuts.  Where possible, which was not frequently the case, we provided hot food -- convenience store microwave burgers and McDonald's breakfast food. 

One lesson about the Silver State 508:  there is one place meaningfully to refuel, in Fallon, Nevada, which riders encounter at mile 75 and again at 435.  In between, and in particular at night, the pickings are slim to none.  Crews should definitely pack a small assortment of solid foods -- perhaps bagels, cooked pasta, and boiled potatoes -- and hot drinks in thermoses.

Desert sky at moon-set.

I love the American desert.  I particularly love the desert at night.  When the sun went down the sky was phenomenal.  After a marvelous sunset we had a near-full moon and brilliant stars that became all the more remarkable around 4:30 am when the moon set.  When there was some light we could see specters of mountains around us. 

But much of the night we could not enjoy it, worried more about running the rider over than seeing any scenery.  Descending hills at night when providing direct-follow support is particularly fearsome.  The art is trying to maintain the closeness while moving as fast as 45 mph and keeping your light beams in positions to do the rider the most good.  You are painfully aware that a sudden fall will put the rider under your wheels.  It is amusing in retrospect that Sam, who is experienced in the crewing arts, was instructing me in the art of direct-follow support on mountain descents even while I was doing it, weaving back and forth across the road to keep the high beams in front of Damon as he rode.

And desert nights, in particular at altitude, get cold.  Damon rode for scores of miles with temperatures in the 30s; the lowest we saw was 34 degrees. (Again, Damon reports his Garmin went more extreme yet, hitting a low of 28.)  Despite shoe covers, leg warmers, mittens, and double jackets -- for nearly 50 miles he wore my synthetic down parka -- nothing could make our rider warm.  After nearly 24 hours in the saddle, one's body has no fuel left to burn to keep the core warm.  It is a dangerous time, with fears of hypothermia and exhaustion-induced crashes.  As crew we balanced the desire to keep him moving with the fear for his safety.  The right approach was never clear.

The view ahead.  "Just a few hundred yards up!  (Or maybe a few miles.)"

 And during those dark times the field began to move back into us.  With the straight roads and clear air we could see headlights for miles into the distance behind us and tail-lights streaming ahead in front of us.  Our rider was in no position to do anything to react. We cheered other riders as they rode by.  Somewhere during the night Red-Necked Falcon passed us, as did Gibbon, a rider from Oregon who had not previously been in the mix at the front end.  Spotted Horse and Wild Turkey passed, followed by the immensely strong mixed tandem Mute Swan.  The phenomenon was amplified because the relay teams, which started one hour behind, began to catch us.

After a short nap -- Sam enforced the allotted 15' to the second -- Damon began to ride stronger.  We crested the penultimate climb to the route's highest elevation at maybe 5 am and began the miles-long descent to the flatlands leading into Fallon.  The light returned and with it some warmth; by Fallon our rider was stripped back to his skin-suit.  And in the light and on the flats, we moved back into the mix with a couple of the relay teams and with Wild Turkey; we learned in Fallon that Spotted Horse and Red-Necked Falcon were not far ahead.

Deluxe Big Breakfast from McDonalds, advertised at 1400 calories.

We loaded up a feed bag at McDonalds in Fallon, one of those "one of everything, please" orders, and Damon put down eggs, hashbrowns, and pancakes before returning to highway 50. At this point we nearly came to an argument.  27+ hours and 440 miles into a ride, nobody has the same fire in the belly that was there at the start.  I found myself dictating to our rider not to answer his telephone, to get back on the bike, and to make an effort to pass at least two of the competitors that were up ahead. 

Whether it was the hot food, the new day, innate competitiveness, or my exhortation, from Fallon home Damon unleashed some of the fire from the previous day.  He rolled straight through the next time station and closed quickly enough on the riders ahead that we found ourselves playing games, hiding the car from the competitors' crews and never rolling too far ahead where we might be spotted.  Damon finished with the ride's fourth-fastest time for the brutally difficult final segment.

Final grade on Nevada 341 from Virginia City to Geiger Summit

On that segment he caught the relay team and passed riders 6 and 7 on the hellish climb up Six-Mile Canyon before descending Geiger Grade to Reno for a spin through town.  At Geiger Summit our work as crew was functionally done.  We tried to stay nearby in case of emergency, but through town Damon was basically on his own.  He rolled into the finish in 32:15, 6th place overall in the solo division, and the first rider to finish who had not competed in the 508 before.

Habanero Tandem

Those select few who follow assiduously the goings-on at the Huffman Bicycle Club may recall my post from late last year about considering the purchase of a tandem. Well, after considerable back and forth with my favorite frame supplier, I finally gave the go-ahead this spring and took delivery of the tandem a few weeks back.

The process was certainly educational for me. There are a lot of considerations when designing a tandem that you don't need to worry about on a solo frame. Like trying to fit a 75" captain on the same bike as a 65" stoker. Thanks to Mark's excellent guidance, we ended up with a great looking frame. I had a few requirements:

• Similar geometry up front to my 64cm Habanero
• Support for disc brakes on the frame
• As many water bottle braze-ons as possible
• Ability to fit 700x35 tires
• Priced around $5,000
• Pump peg

This is what we settled on:

Mark just about hit the $5K mark on the nose. This strikes me as remarkable for a custom titanium tandem with solid components. When I looked around at other Titanium options it was tough to get anywhere near $10K.

Ready For Disk Brakes

All of Mark's tandem frames are custom orders from a supplier in China, so we knew it was going to take a while to make this beauty a reality; the main goal was to have it done in time for a trip to the San Juan Islands the first week in September.

Mark got the frame a couple months ago, and started assembling the bike. He did discover a problem right away; the rear brake bridge was a little too low to clear the tires we planned to use. We could have just gone with smaller tires, but I've really become a fan of larger tires, so I wanted to keep the option of using 700x35s.

Panaracer 700x35

Thankfully, Mark was able to grind away a bit of the brake bridge, solving the problem. On this frame the bridge isn't really structural, it's just there to let me mount a fender if desired. So that seemed like a reasonable option. The result looks great. You'd never know there was a problem.

Mark's brake bridge mod provides clearance for 700x35s.

Delivery And Assembly

Mark generously offered to meet me in St. George where I was crewing for Hoodoo. Ultimately though I gave up on the logistics of that and he shipped it to me in Oregon instead.

Exciting!

Ready To Ride!

Unfortunately the gorillas at UPS opted to prop the box up on the front end, meaning a very tall 40 pound bike was balanced on one of the front dropouts

One of these dropouts is no longer like the other

The left dropout was bent in, and wouldn't fit over an axle. I chatted with Mark on the phone, and he recommended that I try filing it out a bit. After a few swipes with the file, I realized that wasn't going to cut it (hah hah), so instead I just gently pried the dropout outward. I'll admit that I'm only 90% comfortable with this right now, but I'm sure as time goes on without failures I'll feel better about it.

The rest of the assembly went uneventfully. It's really only a 15 minute process or so to unpack and assemble a well packed bike. I was a little nervous about the carbon fiber fork, but ours is a tandem-specific Wound-Up, and it feels really beefy. Likewise I had Mark go with stout wheels, Velocity Dyad with 36H in front and 40H in back.

Wound-Up tandem fork

Still need pedals and another seat..

All I needed to provide was the seats, pedals, and bottle cages. I'm a sucker for gratuitous Titanium bits on my Titanium frames (witness the Chris King Ti crown race on my recent Habanero rebuild) so the Crank Brothers 11 Ti pedals were on the short list. However at ~$800 for two pairs (not to mention a rider weight limit that excludes clydesdales), I opted instead for the Nashbar special Eggbeater 3s. The stoker got a Terry Fly seat to match her single bike (I'm on the lookout for a sale on the Ti version), and thanks to a Jenson sale my 220 pound posterior will be resting on a 215 gram WTB Rocket V SLT, which titanium rails save a whopping 25 grams over the cheaper Ni-Cro version. I only have 3 King Cage Ti bottle cages left from my recent order, but for now that is plenty.

Poor-Man's Tandem Workstand

Official Weigh-in: 37 pounds, 15 ounces.

Completely assembled, the bike came in at 37 pounds, 15 ounces. Based on this thread, I'd call that moderate. Definitely not in the high 20s/low 30s of the super-lightweight tandems, but given the large frame size it's hardly porky either. I'm pretty sure I could drop 3-4 pounds by spending a bunch more on fly-weight wheels, Ultegra components, and lighter-weight what-nots. But that's not the goal of this build. Well not yet anyway ;)

Test-Ride

With our trip to the San Juan Islands just a few days away, we needed to get a test-ride in. Neither I nor A__ have ever ridden a tandem. So really had no idea what to expect. I read a few tips online and then we loaded the bike in the truck and drove to a nearby school with a big parking lot and endless miles of low-traffic roads nearby.

75% of the HBC Titanium Fleet Represented Here.

Riding a tandem at slow speeds feels a bit like driving a bus. You're very aware of the length behind you, and you quickly realize that you can't just, you know, turn. You need to plan ahead, turn the bars, and the rest of the bike sort of follows. Of course at speed it's much different, and it starts to track like a regular road bike. But those first few trips around the parking lot were interesting.

After a short 5 mile loop we started to feel more comfortable. A few small downhills where we hit maybe 30MPH and a few tiny climbs passed uneventfully.

Riding Impressions

We've got about 50 miles on the tandem now, comprised of ~15 mile rides. Some of the early challenges revolved around cadence. A__ tends to apply power to the pedals for fewer radians than I but, at least on flats, we're now more synchronized there. Riding solo I have a cadence in the high 70s, which exaggerates the problem above. Switching to a higher cadence helped even out our pedaling, but when climbing even small hills we still get a bit out of sync.

After getting the wrinkles figured out, it's been quite enjoyable riding the tandem. On flats we cruise at about 19-20MPH, about the same as I'll do on a solo ride. Climbing is considerably slower, and we're not descending especially fast, so overall average is perhaps 17MPH. Faster than A__ alone, and slower than me alone, but that will get better with practice.

I really have nothing against which to compare the Habanero, but my impressions so far are positive. We did have an interesting experience with cross-winds on San Juan Island; a tandem has a larger area and a longer moment-arm than a solo so even a moderate breeze really made us wobble. I'm sure this will get better with practice, but I'd hate to imagine riding a tandem in a strong wind.

Component Thoughts

The triple chainring is well out of sight of the captain. Coupled with the additional abstraction from the drivetrain, it's tough to tell which ring you're in without peeking under your arm or asking the stoker. A tandem seems like an ideal application for a Shimano flight-deck, or better yet XTR Di2 synchro-shift.

I really hate v-brakes. They stop the bike just fine, but opening them up to take out a wheel is a real pain in the neck. The front brake has a little jagwire adjuster that helps a bit, but I've not yet succeeded in getting the back brake open.

Trying to get those brakes open is a real pain

I've ordered a set of Paul MiniMoto brakes which allegedly have a better quick-release mechanism. If I'm happy with those I'll probably order a couple more sets, for the fixie (which currently has V-brakes) and the rando habanero (which has cantis).

Paul MiniMoto quick release

As mentioned above I spec'ed Shimano 105 components to keep costs lower. My last experience with 105 was on a bike with Biopace chainrings and downtube levers (Max' Cannondale, since rebuilt with Ultegra brifters). I hope this doesn't sound elitist, but having now used 105, I do not like it. Compared to Ultegra, the levers feel like plastic picnic spoons. The shifting action is not as crisp as I'm accustomed to, though granted that may be due more to cable length than anything else. In hindsight I wish I'd just gone with Ultegra, but that's an easy swap down the road.

Basement Bike Shop: Upgrades to the Cervelo

The Cervelo P2 was dropping chains on the inside for a while, I got sick of the lame Shimano "Dura Ace" TT shifters, and the Ultegra 6600 group that came new on the original P2SL in 2008 was showing its age, so I invested in some tidbits for an upgrade:

• Sram R2C shifters, indexed, optimized for the Yaw front derailleur.
• Sram Red Yaw front derailleur,
• Sram Force rear derailleur.  (Have you seen the price on the Red option?)

Sram Red Yaw FD

Sram R2C Shifters

Sram Force RD

Other projects:

• It's not new, but I also determined to swap in a Sram Force crankset (172.5 crank arm length) that's been gathering dust in my parts bin.  As part of that task I needed to move the chainrings from the current crankset to maintain my 52-36 gearing.
• I decided to swap in the Hed wheelset to replace the uber-bling Supra set I've been racing recently.  Somehow they look better on the Focus.
• May as well replace a cable or two while I'm at it.  They do break with use, if thankfully infrequently.
• Other tweaks that made sense while the bike was in pieces, including new bar tape and new brake calipers.

One challenge:  I needed to get this done in time for the Saratoga 12-hour, which I rode in mid-July.  The parts did not arrive until Monday and the race was Saturday; making matters worse, I was off on Wednesday-Thursday for a funeral.

Here is my report on the upgrade process.

A.  Installing the Sram Force rear derailleur:

No surprise, but this could not be any more straight-forward.  Here's the process:

1. Pull the metal crimp-thingie from the end of the derailleur cable with a pliers.  Keep.  These can be re-used and I can never seem to find the jar of new ones.
2. Using a 5mm hex wrench, release the cable from the derailleur.
3. Using the same wrench, remove the derailleur from the hanger.
4. Set the old derailleur aside.  It will build back on the FUBAR P2SL frameset for a wall-mount bike using old parts.
5. If the cable is not terribly frayed, pull it through from the shifter end.  Use the pliers to reshape the crimp-thingie as needed and replace it on the end of the cable, crimping it to hold.  Coil the cable and preserve for emergency use on a tour.

New RD.  Housing is in place but cable is not yet threaded.

Old front and rear Ultegra 6600 derailleurs.  Anybody want 'em?

Old RD cable.  Keep for roadside repairs.

 B.  Installing the Sram Red Yaw front derailleur:

a.  Removing is trivial:

1. Rinse and repeat the above instructions for the cable.  In this case mine was too frayed to be worth keeping.  Because the longer rear derailleur cable that I am keeping will work fine as a backup for either the front or the rear, I tossed this one.
2. The attachment bolt for the Ultegra front derailleur turned out to require a 4mm hex wrench and you had to remove the bolt, then replace it in the now removed unit so as not to lose it.

b.  Installing the Sram Red Yaw FD proved to be a tad more complicated than was installing the Force RD:

1. Use a 4mm hex wrench to get the unit started in the slot on the braze-on.  Tighten enough that it holds on its own but you can still manipulate it up and down and side-to-side with a little effort.  Don't do as I did and forget the convex washer-spacer on the opposite (front-facing) side of the braze-on.
2. The instructions require 1-2mm spacing between the bottom edge of the derailleur and the top of the tall teeth on the large chainring.  Measuring is a minor challenge, but I found using a 1.5mm hex wrench as a spacer worked quite well.
3. The Sram derailleur has a line imprinted on the top side that you are instructed to line up with the teeth of the large ring to get the side-to-side position correct.  This works well, but you then need to ensure it does not move when you tighten the fixing bolt.
4. Tighten the fixing bolt to 5nm of force.  Having spent hundreds on near-top-end componentry, I gave up on the usual "until it feels snug" approach and pulled out the torque wrench.

Using a 1.5 mm hex wrench to check the derailleur-to-chainring tolerance.

A really bad picture of the Sram Red Yaw FD installed, with my foot on the right.

Torque wrench tightening the new FD.  5nm of force is prescribed.  With expensive parts, no more "tighten until it feels right"!

 c.  The chain-catcher.  The new FD came with a chain catcher, which -- having been dropping chains to the inside -- struck me as an excellent addition:

1. This installs with a 2.5mm hex wrench, tightened to 1-2nm of force.  
2. The key is spacing on the small chainring.  With the FD in the correct position, it is not hard to get the spacing correct -- but because the chain-catcher bolts into the if the FD is not in the correct position, you have to remove the chain catcher to reposition it.
3. The chain catcher has a 2.5mm adjustment bolt that interacts with the convex washer-spacer (number 1 in the immediately prior set of instructions).  Loosening the bolt moves the spacer toward the center (inward) -- away from the small ring; tightening it moves it outward -- toward the small ring.  The idea, obviously, is that with the chain turning the catcher does not ever quite encounter it, and the place to test the position is in the smallest gear (small ring, large cog). 

Chain-catcher.

C.  Installing the Sram R2C indexed shifters:

This turned out to be the greatest challenge in this upgrade process.  Suffice it to say that internal cable routing is nice for the person riding the bike and a real pain for the person wrenching on the bike.

a.  Removal:

1. The Dura-Ace bar-end shifters come apart with a flat-head screwdriver.  That part is easy.  Screw them back together at the end to keep for a different project.
2. Having separated the body from the mount, use a 5mm hex wrench to loosen the insert and remove it from the bar ends.

Remove the lever.

5 mm. hex wrench to loosen the compression plug.

The shifter once removed.  Put it back together or the parts will get lost!

b.  Installing the new levers:

1. Insert the shift levers into the ends of the aero-bars.  Using a torque wrench with a 5mm hex attachment, tighten the compression plugs to 8nm.
2. Loosen the hex bolts on the inside (red-colored side) of the levers.
3. Position the levers in an "aerodynamic angle."  (Seriously.  In my case that meant pointing them basically straight ahead, which I assume to be aero, and trying to match the angles between left and right.  The matching process is not trivial, and I did not accomplish the goal in several tries -- but it's pretty close.)
4. Tighten the hex bolts to 9nm.
5. On each side, feed the cables into the housing.  Install the dial tension adjuster in the front derailleur housing somewhere before it meets the frame by (1) cutting the housing; (2) trimming off ~1/2 inch; and (3) bringing the two ends of the separated housing together on either side of the tension adjuster.  The cable then runs through the entire rejoined length as if it were a single piece of cable housing.  (There is no tension adjuster to install for the rear derailleur because the barrel adjuster is built into the derailleur.)

Tighten compression plug to 8 nm.

Good thing I have a basement wind-tunnel.

Oh yeah, that feels way aero!

9nm.  Good luck hitting that tightness without disturbing your aerodynamic angle.

c.  Running the cable:

The next bit is frame and cockpit dependent.  I have a Cervelo P2 (carbon) with Profile Design T2+ aerobar extensions.  Different bikes and bars will require different steps.  I hope they are easier:

1. Where the cable housing runs depends on your bars -- with my Profile Design T2+ alloy bars, it enters into the bars through slots on the underside about 3" back of the ends and exits the back end through holes in the specially-made end caps.  The housing then runs to the down tube on the frame, with the right shifter entering the right-side port and the left entering the left-side port.  The front derailleur tension adjuster should be somewhere between the exit from the aero-bars and the frame entry point.

   

   Tension adjuster for front derailleur, just back of the aero-bar extensions.

2. Feed the naked cables into the frame at the ports.
3. Wiggle, twist, pull and push, and generally move the cables for however long it takes to get them to emerge from the frame just below the bottom bracket.  This process took me ~20 minutes.  (It turns out the inside of the tubes on a carbon frame is not nearly as smooth as is the outside!  Past experience with two different aluminum-framed bikes was much, much easier.)
4. Run the cables through the plastic cable guide screwed to the frame at the underside of the bottom bracket housing.
5. Bend the front derailleur cable upward and insert it back into the frame at the entry point in the seat-tube behind the crankset.  Wiggle, twist, pull and push, and generally move the cable for however long it takes to get it to emerge from the seat-tube below the front derailleur.  This process took me another ~20 minutes.  Take whatever steps necessary to be sure it does not slip back out!
6. Run the rear derailleur cable along the drive-side chain-stay to re-enter the housing for the final loop to the new rear derailleur.

D.  Attaching the cables and tuning:

The basics of this process are pretty simple.  Getting it right is art, not science, and you may conclude (as I usually do, and ultimately did here) that taking the bike to the LBS for a final tune is wise.  In short, you now need to attach both front and rear derailleur cables; adjust the limit screws; and dial in the tension to get the indexed shifts right on target.

The below assumes you have installed the chain.  In my case I replaced the crankset as well.

New Sram PC-1091 chain.  Picture is of the quick-link used to attach the chain.  I measured the chain to match the length of the one I removed and used a chain tool to remove the excess links before installing.

a.  Attaching the cable on the front derailleur:

1. Trigger the left (front) shifter to the loosest point. On these shifters that means moving it upward one click.
2. Tighten the inline barrel adjuster to the maximum by turning it to the right.
3. Pull the cable through the attachment bolt on the front derailleur.  Pull it hand-tight.  Tighten the cable attachment bolt. I never waste my time with a torque wrench here.  I just yard on it.
4. The front derailleur sits naturally at the small chainring location.  Once the rear derailleur is attached you can adjust the limit screws and cable tension.

b.  Attaching the cable on the rear derailleur:

1. Trigger the right (rear) shifter to the loosest point.  That means moving it downward as many clicks as is required.
2. Tighten the barrel adjuster on the rear derailleur all the way.
3. Pull the cable through the rear derailleur attachment bolt hand tight and tighten the cable attachment bolt.
4. The rear derailleur sits naturally at the small cog location. 

c.  Adjusting the derailleurs:

1. Spin the pedals and operate the rear shifter (upward clicks) to move the chain to the largest cog.  With the chain on the small ring it is now in the lowest gear.
2. Getting the chain to move will require tightening the cable with the barrel adjuster.  Tighten the cable by loosening the adjuster.  This is counterintuitive:  what you actually are doing by loosening the adjuster is lengthening the housing, which has the effect of shortening the cable that runs through it.  If you find yourself opening the barrel adjuster too far, screw it back down tight, loosen the cable attachment bolt, pull the cable tighter (perhaps using a pliers), and re-tighten the bolt.  Then try again with the barrel adjuster.
3. Pull the lever beyond the final click to see how far you can move the rear derailleur.  If it moves toward the center from the largest cog, you want to tighten the limit screw so the unit cannot move so far inward.  (The danger, of course, is a chain dropped in your spokes.)

   

   Limit screws.  Much more accessible on this Sram RD than on the Ultegra 6600 I removed.

4. Move the derailleur to the smallest cog and repeat the limit screw exercise.  When moving the derailleur, use the barrel adjuster to get the shifts crisp.  If a particular shift is not immediate, turn the barrel adjuster 1/4 turn in the direction you are trying to move the chain and try again.
5.  Repeat the exercise for the front derailleur.  The adjustment process up front never seems to be as smooth.  You want to check the limit screws for the front derailleur with the chain in the cog most likely to cause a dropped chain -- the large cog for the inside ring; the small cog for the outside ring.  You are likely to have to tighten the cable using a pliers before it is taut enough to effect the first shifts.
6. Once the front derailleur is shifting, the inline barrel adjuster can fine-tune the shifts.

Summary:

I got this done in time for the Saratoga 12-hour and the bike worked fine for that event.  The indexed shifting on the front derailleur was a nice change from the shift-by-feel of the old Shimano levers.  The R2C shifters look cool if nothing else.  I then dropped the bike at the LBS for a $25 tune.

A worthwhile change?  I don't know.  Dolling up the Cervelo a tad will hopefully keep me from buying a new tri bike anytime soon.

Racing on the new race bike

Saturday from 7 to 7 was the Mid-Atlantic 12-hour, run coincidentally with a 24-hour and a 104-mile time trial on a handful of rural roads around Washington, NC.

Map of roads east of Washington, NC, where race is held.

Damon and I headed down Friday evening, supped with J__ and B__, and crashed in a seedy Comfort Inn just down the street from Washington's downtown strip.

The ultracycling dirtbag lifestyle.

We checked in at the race HQ, a tent in a high-school parking lot a few miles from the Comfort Inn.

Washington High School -- as if I never left home.

 The disorganization was exquisite.  I paid my entry fee and was given a race number . . . with somebody else's name on it.  When I returned the number, she exchanged it . . . but did not write down my name.  Punchline:  when I went to check on my final result at the end, she asked my name to write, in ball-point, on the medal.  It reads "Maxx Huffman."

If I'm ever a movie star, that's the spelling I'm using.

 We started in a parade format following a gold PT cruiser.

Much of the field continued in the parade format, riding in a peleton for the entire first lap.  I suppose much of what I like about these events is the laid-back casual atmosphere, although one does get frustrated when "laid back and casual" means "no rules enforced."

The course was flat and fast, with approximately 1500' of climbing over the 225 miles I rode.  The first few laps, before the heat rose and other realities also set in, were extraordinary.

Still feeling extraordinary.

 Some new equipment in my collection:  I've reported on the Focus Cayo Evo Di2 in two recent posts.  Here it is in the picture.  It is a nice-riding rig, plenty comfortable after hours in the saddle, able to clear 28mm tires, and fast-seeming (although that is a terribly subjective characterization).  I am running Schwalbe One 28 mm tires on those cheap Supra carbon wheels.

I did get painfully uncomfortable several hours in, more so than I have experienced in recent rides, but considering that I have only twice eclipsed 200 miles this year, with this race's being one of them, I can't really blame the bike for that problem.

A new Giro Attack helmet (on the head, above and below), which looks rather bad-ass, even if it serves no other purpose.  But it is supposed to be aerodynamic.

Badass-looking lid.

J__ and B__, there to see Damon through his third 24-hour of 2014, also provided me with remarkable support -- filling bottles, encouraging me to get out of HQ between laps, offering to pick me up at the end of 12 hours from mid-lap, and handing me a Whopper for end-of-race nourishment.  (J__ also served as the photographer, taking most of the photos on this blog post.)

The release of adrenaline at the end of these events always amazes me.  One can be hammering at 21 mph trying for that final mile one minute and sacked on a piece of concrete the next.

Adrenaline drain.  Yes, that is my Whopper I am holding, and prepared to protect with my life.

Damon continued on to reach 436 in 24 hours before his race bike imploded.  I picked up my medal and hit the sack so one of us could drive back the next day.

First age-group.  There were two of us in the age group.  The other guy was hand-cycling.