I don’t want to get too heavy or, God forbid, too PC here. But I’ve got to say that I hope most cyclists aren’t buying these t-shirts with the Japanese rising sun. Many, many American soldiers died while fighting forces that used the symbol, chosen by a regime that brutalized a large part of Asia.
When I lived in Taiwan, local companies would occasionally use Nazi-inspired imagery for a product or marketing campaign. One local firm selling space heaters (imported from Germany!) used a cartoon Hitler in ads that declared, “Wage war on the cold!” Sometimes I would see someone wearing a motorcycle helmet shaped like a Nazi helmet with the “SS” insignia. Yep, really poor taste.
When the tiny Jewish community complained about these things, the products were often taken off the market, and the companies would say it was just an innocent mistake. They would claim they didn’t know people would be so sensitive about such things. One Taiwanese friend pointed out to me that Westerners often wear jackets and shirts with the rising sun logo, something he found to be an example of extreme ignorance and insensitivity.
Anyway, don’t buy these t-shirts. You can find much more imaginative designs here. If I could get myself to plonk down $25 for a t-shirt, this is the one I’d go for:
My new Black Diamond headlamp paid for itself the first time I used it. I just love it when a piece of gear does that. I was reluctant to buy it because I already have a perfectly good headlamp – a Mammut. Unfortunately, I just can’t find it. It went missing in my house, and I spent weeks searching for it before giving up and pulling the trigger on a new one.
I'm pleased with this head lamp. It's rugged and has already survived a few drops.
The headlamp is most valuable when I’m out with my dog on dark early morning runs. We usually like to finish our workout by running on a half-mile stretch of trail through a strip of forest in my neighborhood. It gives me a bit of an adrenaline rush, not knowing what I’m going to run into in the dark woods. I love how the darkness envelopes me. I like to let my imagination go wild. As I hammer along trying to remember where all the tree roots are, I imagine myself tripping over a dead body or fending off an attack from a raccoon crazed with distemper or stumbling into a freaky group performing a satanic ritual. I like how all my senses go on hyper alert.
With my new Black Diamond strapped to my head, I was cruising down the forest trail recently when I saw something wispy and white – seemingly fluorescent – ahead of me hanging in the air just above the trail. It looked like a white plastic trash bag fluttering in the breeze, but the weird thing was that there was no wind. I spent the next few seconds pondering what it could be. As I closed in within about 20 meters of the thing, my light illuminated it a bit more. It became apparent the white, wispy thing was attached to a small creature with a pointy nose that turned around and looked at me, his beady eyes glowing in the beam of light. Oh damn, it was a skunk!
I slammed on the brakes and yanked my dog’s leash, pulling her in close to me. We did a U-turn and sprinted away from the creature. If I were running without a headlamp, I’m sure I would have plowed into the critter. I would have had to call in late to work as I spent the rest of the morning de-skunking myself and my wooly Airedale terrier. I’ve had to do that before, and it’s a HUGE chore, an absolute
I prefer the Mammut. It's lighter and I like the attachment that turns it into a lightbulb that can hang inside a tent.
nightmare. The tomato juice remedy is just a myth. It’s best to use special anti-skunk shampoo with enzymes that break down the wretched, oily stuff that skunks spray on you. I urge all dog owners to have a bottle of the stuff in your garage because the last thing you want to do when you’ve been skunked is go into your house or get into your car to go on a shopping trip. Anyway, the headlamp saved me from this hideous hassle.
My wife told me to stop running in the forest in the early morning. She said, “That time belongs to the animals. Just leave them alone!”
My wise-cracking wife saw me slipping into my new Pearl Izumi AmFIB tights. She walked over, pinched the material around my thigh, laughed and said, “What’s this? Is it your new scuba suit? Ha ha ha ha!” I had to admit with a chuckle that my wife – a harsh critic of bike geekery - was right. The tights are made of a thick, almost rubbery-looking material that seems better suited for deepsea diving. I was worried they would cause some serious chaffing and discomfort on long rides. But that hasn’t been the case at all. They’ve been extremely comfortable and warm. So far, they’re my best investment this winter. They provide excellent protection from the wind (I really don’t feel it) and my legs stay warm. Best yet, I don’t need to stick a wool sock or mitten in my crotch area to keep my junk from freezing. The tights protect me there, too.
I’m a frugal, patient shopper who rarely pays the retail price for gear. I tend to wait for the end-of-the-season sales and stock up with the bargains. I was tempted to wait for the Pearl Izumi tights to be marked down next month or in March. But it quickly became apparent that the leg warmers and Lycra tights that served me well in subtropical southern China were no match for the Michigan winter. So I pulled the trigger early and paid $120 for the heavy-duty tights through REI online. The price was lower than competing brands, and Pearl Izumi has NEVER disappointed me when it comes to design and durability. The stuff wears like iron. I’ve had three pairs of Pearl bib shorts in my regular rotation for the past five years!
I had three options: 1) bib tights 2) bibless tights with a chamois or 3)bibless without a chamois. I went with option No. 3 - bibless without chamois - because I’m a huge proponent of flexible layering. I wanted to be able to strip off the tights if there was a drastic change in weather. That would have been hard to do with the bibs. I also planned to wear bib shorts under the tights for extra warmth. There also might be times when I wear the tights for snowshoeing or running, and the chamois would just be unneeded bulk.
Technical details: The tights are made of “Elite softshell” that serves as a wind barrier. They’re lined with fuzzy “thermal fleece,” which provides warmth and moves moisture away from the skin. The legs have a long bottom zipper, and reflective stripes that provide 360-degree reflectivity. Grippy silicone material around the ankles keep the tights in place. The panel construction with the flat seams helps the tights hug the legs. The legs are cut with a slightly bend, which looks weird on the hanger but makes sense when you’re on the bike. A medium was the best fit for my body (1.83 meters tall, 78 kilos). The only thing I don’t like about them is that the waist line feels like it’s riding a bit low. But when I feel back there to see if I’m rocking a plumber’s butt, everything seems to be fitting fine. It’s weird but minor. I’ll get used to it.
If I have a trademark, it would be that I almost always wear booties when riding. I started doing this three years ago while cycling in China. I called them “shoe condoms” because they protected my feet from all the nasty road muck common in developing nations, where roads also serve as sewage canals, toilets and spittoons. The booties also helped extend the life of my insanely expensive Sidi shoes, which have intricate stitching and seams that are extremely hard to clean when coated with gunk.
But the real reason I wear shoe covers is that they look cool.
I don’t own many pairs because: a) they’re expensive and b) I’m not a collector; when I find a product I like, I just use it until it’s beyond repair. But I have ridden with a decent sampling of shoe covers, and I thought it might be interesting to share my thoughts about them.
Sidi Chrono. Price: $35-$40.
Good: A simple design with flashy Sidi logos on the top of the toes, side and heel. Easy to slip on and the zipper stays zipped. They grip the foot like a glove. They also come in a bunch of cool colors: black, white, blue, lime green, white/black.
Bad: The Lycra is too thin and can be torn easily. In the photo above, you can see how I ruptured the booty when my foot rubbed up against a curb. The booty barely clears the ankle and should go higher to give better protection against road gunk that might try to trickle down your leg. At about $40, they’re too expensive. However, they’re made in Italy so let’s hope much of the high price is going toward a living wage and benefits for the workers.
Pearl Izumi. (Sorry, the model is discontinued and I can’t recall its name or price. )
Good: My all-time favorites. A durable polyester/spandex booty that goes high above the ankle. The fabric has a funky weave, and the thick material is super grippy on the shoe. Easy to slip on, and the zipper stays up and doesn’t dig into your skin. I’ve gone through two pairs and wore the heck out of both of them. I really loved the electric blue ones. They’re reminiscent of the powder blue Duegi booties popular in the 80s.
Bad: It would be great if some kind of vinyl material reinforced areas – such as the toes and heels – that are more exposed to the road. My booties are barely holding together in the toe area. Some reflective stripes would also be welcomed.
Pearl Izumi’s newest version of the booty is called the Aero. From the pictures on the Web site, the design seems to be generally the same, but Pearl has ditched the zipper and is using the pull-on design. The price seems right at $15. I’ve been tempted to buy some really expensive covers from Assos, but I changed my mind when I started thinking about how easy it is to trash a pair. So $15 is really an outstanding price for the Pearls – a brand that has yet to disappoint me. One unfortunate thing: The booties are only offered in white and black.
Castelli Lycra Shoe Cover. Price: $35
Good: No zipper and super easy to slip on. The toes and heel are reinforced with vinyl material. Reflective piping up the heel makes it easier for cars to see you.
Bad: The Lycra isn’t grippy enough so the fit seems a bit baggy, not glove like. The booty doesn’t go high enough over the ankle and isn’t tight enough around the top of the ankle. This makes it easier for rocks and grit to work their way down inside the shoe cover. The purple color was unfortunate. I bought them online and in the catalogue photo, the bootie was more of a royal blue, and I was surprised to see the purple. This probably wasn’t Castelli’s fault, though.
The booties reviewed here don’t offer much warmth. In an upcoming post, I’ll take a look at some winterized shoe covers.
Six months ago, I wrote about how much I love Specialized Roubaix Armadillo Elite tires. I decided that I would praise them in a review if I could ride them for 1,000 kilometers without a puncture. I ended up getting 1,250 kilometers out of them before flatting. That’s amazing for the post-apocalyptic road conditions in Guangzhou.
Unfortunately, I stopped keeping track of the mileage that I put on the tires, but I ended up getting several thousand more kilometers out of them before my next – and last – flat. Eventually, the sidewall on the back tire split and I had to retire it. I’ve replaced the set with a new pair of Roubaix Armadillo Elites. I’m still their biggest fans.
The tires spoiled me, though. When I used to ride Continentals, I’d get three or four flats each month. With so much practice, I perfected my tire-changing skills. Within minutes, I’d be able to slap a new tire on and be back on the road. But the Specialized tires made me rusty. And I made an amateur mistake the last time I flatted with them.
I’ll let you try to figure out what I did wrong: I was coming home from a long Sunday ride when I punctured about 18 kilometers from my home. When I took the tire off, I ran my fingers through the inside of the tire to check for nails or other nasty bits that might have caused the flat. I also checked the tire’s tread for any pieces of glass or other nasties. I didn’t find anything, so I figured it must be a valve problem or a defect in the cheap tube I bought at Decathlon.
I got home without another flat, so I figured it must have been a defective tube. But the next morning, the tire was flat again. I inspected the tire again, eyeballing it closely and using my fingers to feel for sharp objects. I found nothing. The inside of the rim was clean and I wiped it down again. I used a knife and tweezers to pick out several pieces of glass and slivers of stone from tire tread. I pumped up the punctured tube, immersed it in water and noticed that tiny bubbles were coming from a tiny hole. Hmmmm.
After installing a new tube, I went out for a ride, and 15 kilometers into it, I punctured again! After another inspection and change, I found nothing. I wondered: How is it possible that I’m able to ride 15 kilometers before puncturing?
Now’s the time to guess what was wrong.
That evening, I did another inspection, and I realized I had made a rookie mistake. When I ran my fingers through the tire searching for culprits, I was only working in one direction. When I reversed direction, my fingers immediately hit something. It was a tiny fragment of what looked like piano wire. I imagine it got lodged in my tire a long time ago and had been slowly working its way through the rubber. My fingers were running right over it because it was sticking out at a 45-degree angle and would bend when my fingers went over it. But when I went against the grain, it pricked my finger and was easy to find. It wasn’t long enough to immediately puncture the tube, but after 15 or so kilometers, it could gradually pierce the rubber.
Lesson learned: When you inspect your tire, make sure you run your hands through it in BOTH directions.
With most product reviews, I suspect reviewers remove the item from the box, inspect it a bit, take it out for a spin or two, then write the review. I can’t remember ever seeing a follow-up review – a post mortem after the product is used for a season or several months – in the mainstream cycling press. That’s what I’m going to do with things reviewed on Waffles & Steel.
Way back in February, I checked out the Castelli Sottile rain cape. I had two main worries about the garment – and the brand in general. The first concern was that although I’ve long been a fan of Castelli, some of my latest purchases were disappointing. The zipper on a full-zip jersey broke. I mailed it back and the company replaced it with a half-zip. Grrrrrrr. I also had a pair of bib shorts with stitching that started unraveling after the first ride. The company replaced them without a hassle, but the new pair developed the same problem – again after the first ride! So I bought the Sottile rain cape with some extreme reservations and concerns about quality. I was essentially giving Castelli one last chance.
The second concern was that the jacket’s transparent material seemed a bit too light. It felt slightly heavier than the cling wrap you use to wrap your sandwiches for lunch. I could easily picture the material snagging and ripping after the third ride and the US$80 garment would end up in the bin. (I bought it with my own waffle money.)
After three months of regular wear during the wet Guangzhou “winter,” I’m happy to say that I’m extremely impressed with the rain cape. It’s surprisingly rugged and so far shows few signs of wear. It’s super light and is easy to scrunch up into a little bundle that fits easily into a back jersey pocket. In Guangzhou, you can never tell if the skies are dark because of the pollution or approaching storms. So it’s smart to carry a rain cape on most days in the winter and spring. The Sottile is so light and easy to carry that I rarely debate whether to take it with me. I don’t notice it when it’s in my back jersey so I pack it on most days.
The rain cape also breathes extremely well and is comfortable to wear. Last week, I set off on a pre-work morning ride in a light drizzle. About 15 minutes into the ride, it stopped raining and I thought about taking off the jacket. But since the ride was only an hourlong, I didn’t want to waste time stopping and holding up my riding buddy. So I kept the jacket on and I felt fine. If I were wearing a traditional PVC plastic rain cape, I’m sure I would want to remove it. One thing I’ve noticed with people who wear those things is that they’re ready to get rid of them the second the rain stops because they’re so hot.
It’s nice to have dry arms in the cold, clammy Guangzhou “winters,” but it’s not a big problem in the summer. That’s why I’m seriously thinking about investing in the vest version of the Sottile.
Chinese newspapers are generally boring. But their bikes are cool.
Most of the papers have a fleet of their own customized delivery bikes. They’re painted in the company’s colors, and the publication’s name is often on the frame’s top and down tubes. Custom panniers are a must.
Here’s a delivery guy for Guangzhou’s most popular papers, the Guangzhou Daily and Southern Metropolis Daily:
I love the double top tube construction. Chains in China only get lubed once in their lifetime.
When I lived in Taiwan, local companies would occasionally use Nazi-inspired imagery for a product or marketing campaign. One local firm selling space heaters (imported from Germany!) used a cartoon Hitler in ads that declared, “Wage war on the cold!” Sometimes I would see someone wearing a motorcycle helmet shaped like a Nazi helmet with the “SS” insignia. Yep, really poor taste.
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