The grade is long and I am climbing away. I’m not going to Pantani this: I am not out of the saddle, not in the drops and not leaving everyone in my wake. The climbing gear was engaged a long time ago. There is progress, but I am not dancing up this climb. A little more cadence would really help here. If I could just get this mother-lover spinning just a bit, I could get somewhere. Maybe I’m not in the granny gear, yeah, maybe that’s the problem. Maybe I do have one more gear, the gear that will solve this whole thing.
The right middle finger drops to the shifter and pushes. No. Nothing, just the feel of the derailleur hitting the limiter screw. Idiot. You knew you didn’t have another gear didn’t you but you couldn’t resist, could you? Why do I even do it? I know the answer already but I still do it. Hope springs eternal when one is too big to climb. I did it with downtube shifters too; crank that shifter back hoping for a little more action.
I bet Gino did it when he only had three speeds and a hand lever running down the seat stay to manipulate. “Mamma Mia, sto fumando come moto di un Hippie. Ho solo bisogno di una marcia in più.” *
The only time I look down and am surprised at what gear I’m in is the rare occasion when I am in my climbing gear and crossed on the “big” chainring. And that would be the only justification for wondering what the hell is going on “down there”.
My mountain bike actually has gear indicators, which are embarrassing. What are we, three year olds? On that bike I just keep pushing levers until I can’t, or I just fall over. Maybe, in a few years, when we are all forced into electronic shifting, a soothing voice will emanate from the lever. “Really? You want an even easier gear? You don’t have one so get your fat ass off the saddle, get in the drops before I auto-shift you into the big chainring and leave you there. And you call yourself a Cyclist.” The possibilities are endless.
* Loosely translated- “FFS, I am smoking like a Hippie’s motorbike. I just need one more gear.”
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...unless you're using doubletap. In which case that Hail Mary shift just became a curse equal to that of any Greek n'e'er-do-well. You are now doomed to hold that paddle inwards, for even the slightest release of pressure will see you dropping into second.
And everyone will know what you did.
Smoking like a hippie's motorbike, or maybe just like a hippie.
The dead shift on the lever, when there are no more sprockets on the back, signals my effort -- just focus on turning. I usually think of the scene from An Officer and A Gentleman -- "I got nowhere else to go!"
Great post, Gianni..as a fellow rider who is 'too big to climb' I read this with one of those 'yeah, i've been there too' grins..
I would pay top dollar for the voice warning "You little P.O.S., forget about shifting to a smaller gear before I switch to the big ring".
Same system should have some sort of GPS and autoshift to 53x11 near townsigns.
@Mike Stead (@tweetymike)
That is a very good point. Note to self, don't get SRAM 11 speed Bro-Set.
Great article. I feel your pain. Being affectionately known as a "Clyde", gravity is not my friend unless I'm pointing down towards it. I do always try to keep the biggest ring at the back free for bail out purposes. Never. Ever. Happens. Of course, one never ever gets off and pushes....
For some reason, in the back of my head, I curse myself if I ever have to get the big cog dirty. I feel like somehow I've failed myself, my bike, and god how the guys going the other way are laughing at me: "Ha, look at that fool, in his 25 on this little bump". (I've never heard anyone say that, but I know, know they are.) And I still catch myself looking back at the rear cog to see if there might be one more on the real steep ones.
After years of flat riding here in the fens, I finally climbed a mountain last week. Teide caldera rim (Tenerife), 2200m of nothing but up from sea level, averaging over 6%.
I think I may have caught a bug. Despite being far too fat to climb. Dear merckx that was awesome. Actually took two attempts to get there though. The first time we bailed at Villafor (~1400m). You knkow how the pros go to Tenerife at the this time of year because the weather is reliably sunny and warm? Well, that day I reckon they were locked in their hotels up the mountain doing turbo pain sessions. The cloud base was low and it was a bit breezy when we set out, dressed for a nice day with minimal extra kit in pockets- arm warmers, windproof gilet for coming back down. Flandian best was a very long way north back in England... By Villaflor it was properly windy and raining, hard, down to below 5°C
In the café, we found a group of Norwegians and a group of Latvians. They were huddled round a patio heater that had been dragged in. Hot drinks, soup, burgers were the order of the day. Everyone was in agreement- the only sensible way was down. When the Scandinavians and the Baltic types are saying the weather is a bit too nasty, well, you kindof of go along with that.
Descending was terrifying. Near zero visibility, on an unfamiliar hire bike, with hail having been added to the mix and the wind now strong enough to cause serious stability issues. Switchback road with a crash barrier just big enough to flip you clear of the slope, helping you fall further, if you were to lose it.
Successfully climbing the mountain was far better. Sunshine, a bit of a cloud line for when the going really got tough to make it more comfortable. Saw lines from Cannondale, Astana and Katusha zip down the road as we slogged up, and a couple of Orica riders reaching the summit as we were in the viewpoint just down from it having got to the top. Back down again, with a feeling of accomplishment, was vastly more fun- a true education in why earning your turns is so satisfying.
I'll admit, mind, to barely considering any gears beyond the one I was in for most of the climb.
So, mountains. Yes. I need to do more. Ventoux was discussed.
The notion of electronic shifters giving little foul-mouthed Rule V pep-talks while grinding up a climb is fucking brilliant. Make it so.