Trade shows are an odd phenomenon. They are like little artificial malls where you go shopping but no actual commerce is conducted. The best you can really hope for is the promise of future business. I’ve been to trade shows for the musical instrument business, electronic security, computers and, best of all, bicycles. Only the trade show for the music biz could hold a candle to Interbike. But oh my God, it was louder than the Chinook helicopters that plucked friends of mine from the flood waters in Boulder, Colorado.
It used to be that Interbike was the place where dealers came to see the new line of bikes and then sit down with their rep to place their preseason order. It made perfect sense. Go to the virtual showroom, see the bikes in person, go over colors and pricing, and then sit down with the order sheet and start writing numbers in blanks. As recently as 2004, I can recall seeing a dealer sitting at a table with his rep and an order sheet. But lead times have grown over the years. Today, forecasting times have grown to the point that a bike shop’s preseason order needs to be placed before they ever arrive at Interbike. Trek, Specialized, Giant and Cannondale all have dealer events more than four weeks before Interbike. The single biggest driver on the product management end in this is ordering product with Shimano; lead times with SRAM and Campagnolo are somewhat shorter, I’m told.
The other big driver that no one likes to talk about is the one on the sales end of things. No one wants unsold units in October. Those bikes get discounted and all the profits made through the year get nixed when you take a loss by dumping bikes. To the accountants, it’s not as simple as that, but the career of a product manager can end with a single bad forecast. Those discounted bikes used to be welcomed by retailers looking for Christmas deals. What has changed is that retailers are now being asked to guess how much product they will need for the year more than six months prior to singing “Auld Lang Syne.” The burden of forecasting has been shifted from the manufacturer’s shoulders to the back of the guy who is far less sophisticated. As a retailer, if you order too many bikes, it’s up to you to figure out how to get them all out your door. And if you order too few? Well, then it’s up to you to figure out what to sell because the manufacturer will be sold out of their most popular model by June, July at the latest.
So bike shops order the bikes they hope to be selling in July in … July.
The dealer events that the bike companies hold are pretty genius because the events serve their forecasting needs and give them a multi-day audience without the distraction of other companies. If a shop employee wants to go for a ride, and he’s at Trek World, it’s on a Trek, or a Trek.
The trouble for dealers is that these preseason events are smack dab in the middle of the selling season. Attending one is tantamount to leaving a dinner party you’re throwing at home to drive to work for a conference call.
All this begs the question of the point of Interbike.
Those who are desperate to see the latest, greatest, suggest that Eurobike in Friedrichshafen, Germany, could serve the whole of the market, but that misses the fact that there are models and colors peculiar to that continent and this. Further, if a dealer actually flew to Germany, he’d have the shock of finding out his rep wasn’t there. Who’s going to take that order?
Timing aside, Las Vegas continues to be anathema to all that the bicycle stands for. Cycling is a triumph of clean living and Vegas celebrates nothing so much as excess. All you need to do is wander through one casino at 8:45 am on a weekday morning and witness someone at a slot machine with cigarette dangling and Jim Beam on the rocks to know that Vegas aims to be the home to coloring outside the lines. This also begs a question, but a different one: Why Las Vegas?
That part is easier to answer. Because Las Vegas markets itself more effectively as a travel destination than any other locale in the contiguous U.S. Don’t believe me? Try to find a three-star hotel in any bona fide vacation destination that goes for less than $50 per night and you’ll be looking until the cows have come home and left again. Airfares are similarly discounted. You can fly for less than $200 round trip from any major city in the U.S. so long as you don’t book the day before departure. There’s not another city that wants you as badly as Vegas does.
That part creeps me out. Every other city on the planet is happy to see me leave. ‘Cept maybe Santa Rosa. Damn. I digress.
Interbike’s former marketing director, Rich Kelly, put forward the idea that the show should give into all the cries to move the show to Denver or Anaheim or Timbuktu and then let the disaster unfold for a year, maybe two before moving the grateful hordes back to the surface of the sun, er, Nevada. To demonstrate the particular genius of this idea, I note that a political pundit put forward the idea that if conservatives really thought Obamacare wouldn’t work they should let it be enacted and then allow—you guessed it—the disaster to unfold.
As a journalist, Interbike is very useful to me. It’s useful to all of us in the media. Oddly, we may be the one user group for whom Interbike remains an unqualified success. It’s true that no one walks out of Interbike with a signed ad contract anymore, much the way dealers aren’t filling out order sheets, but the edit side of things often prides itself on being as clueless about actual commerce as possible, especially when it’s the commerce of one’s employer. I can’t be quite so cavalier as I’m the one cutting commission checks to my ad sales team, but I do my best to separate church and state. Sometimes it’s a bit like being at Four Corners with one hand in Colorado, another in Utah, one foot in Arizona and another in New Mexico, but you do your best.
Our ad sales director, Wayne, bumped into some guys from one of the local shops on his flight. In tow was a kid from the shop for whom this trip was a verified travel trifecta: It was his first trip out of Wisconsin. It was his first plane flight. And, of course, it was his first trip to Las Vegas. Last I heard that kid still wasn’t sober. That kid, [name redacted], is the perfect example of why some folks are perfectly happy with Las Vegas. The thing is, you could leave home everyone who is there to party and the show wouldn’t suffer a bit. Weirder still, by clearing out the halls a bit, people rushing from one appointment to the next, usually five minutes late (no names mentioned), would probably save 30 seconds of dodging the hangovered. Trust me, every little bit helps.
That last point is meant to help bring into focus the many conflicting elements that make up the single most important trade event for the bike industry in North America. By keeping the show in Vegas it continues to attract people for whom business isn’t their first priority.
This year, Interbike made two significant changes to its format, one small, one big. First, it allowed consumers to visit on Friday; second, it changed locations. Consumers have long visited the show as part of shop staff. This was just the first time that it was actually okay for that to happen, but only on Friday. Given the number of people we all see who don’t actually work in the industry who make their way to Las Vegas to attend, there was some concern that the show would be mobbed on Friday. I know people who made sure to leave Thursday night so they could avoid the influx. Only the multiplcation didn’t happen. If anything, the fear of the masses was so great that more people left than showed up just for Friday. The overall population seemed down.
The second change, that of venue, took it from the Sands Convention Center where it had been held for 14 years to the Mandalay Bay Convention Center. I heard exhibitors complain about increased cost, poor placement, a lower ceiling (making it harder to raise big banners sufficiently high above above their booths to attract attention), gigantic support columns that were as easy to see around as a school bus stood on its end and tighter aisles. All of those may have been true.
For me, and all the other journalists with whom I spoke, the selection of Mandalay Bay was a certified miss. The biggest single issue was one of geometry. The Sands Convention Center is more or less laid out in a rectangle. Mandalay Bay? Not so much. The show floor was laid out in a kind of squared-off “J.” The upshot is that there were parts of the main show floor obscured from view. Navigation was an ongoing nightmare. I can’t recall ever being in a room with such a confusing layout that even after two days of walking around it I could still become—there’s no other word for it—lost. I pride myself on my sense of direction and I was 90 degrees from the direction I needed to head more often than not.
For the vendors who stood in their booth all day, this wasn’t a problem. Retailers, who have a fraction of the appointments that journalists do, had plenty of time to find their way around, but because my colleagues and I needed to move quickly from appointment to appointment, the confusion of the layout, the tight aisles and the lack of multiple aisles that stretched the length of the show made it easily the worst trade show layout I’ve ever encountered. I can put it in perspective this way: I’ve never actually criticized a trade show layout before. How badly do you have to screw it up to be criticized?
Wait, it’s gets better (or worse, depending on your view). There was a “paddock” outside on the hot asphalt. Nevermind that I was too busy to head out there, I didn’t even know how to find it.
As a business, Interbike benefitted from the return of a number of companies, such as Felt, to the show floor, but I can’t help but wonder what the future holds for Interbike. Exhibiting at Interbike can present the same expense as adding another full-time staff member. I think it’s just a matter of time before someone figures out better timing and a better venue and in that creates a better business model.
Do you remember that Coyote and Road Runner cartoon where Wile E. Coyote purchases the Acme rocket sled only to shoot up into the stars upon ignition and explode, thus turning into a constellation of an archer? Well that’s what it feels like to climb out of the car in the dusty gravel parking lot at Bootleg Canyon. No matter how well you have planned, there is always a sense (for me at least) of, “Ohmigod, where do I start?”
This year after grabbing my credentials and saying a few hellos, I headed to Shimano’s air conditioned tent (bless their blue souls) for the introduction of their new line of mountain bike shoes. The new shoe brings Shimano’s Custom-Fit technology to the off-road world. While I haven’t molded them yet, I installed a set of cleats and decided to walk around in them a bit and ride in them to see how stable they felt when walking on gravel and if they felt good while on the bike. They were surprisingly comfortable both on the bike and off. Expect a review of these.
I’ve long liked Easton wheels for the quality of their builds. Every set of wheels from them I’ve ever ridden stayed remarkably true. However, a couple of them did have issues with bearings, and while the more recent wheels I’ve ridden have been trouble-free, I know that others have not been as fortunate. For 2014, Easton has completely redesigned their hubs to eliminate bearing preload problems and solve the problem with bearings wearing out prematurely.
The entire freehub body has been redesigned and among the new features is a headset bearing that allows the pawls to engage after only seven degrees of rotation. The old carbon wheels have been eliminated in favor of one new wheel which they are reporting is the fastest wheel on the market. You can see the wheels on the Calfee below. They say their wind tunnel testing shows they are faster than the Zipp Firecrest 404s, and the Enve 6.7s.
Easton is running a promotion, about which you can get details on our Facebook page, that will give you a chance to win a dream bike. Among the bikes are this Calfee Manta Pro, plus bikes from Rock Lobster, Black Cat and others.
The Calfee features rear suspension. I’m told it has 12mm of travel, which may not be the 120mm of some mountain bikes, was still enough to soften the bumps in the road. This seems to be a very new design and while it certain did what it purported, there was some twisting in the wishbone when I was out of the saddle that caused the rear brake to rub.
It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to look at a Calfee up close and they continue to be beautiful bikes that are exceedingly well crafted. The touch of the internally routed brake cable was something I’ve not seen before.
When I see Craig Calfee at the show later this week, I’ll be asking him just how this suspension works. It’s unusual looking, but it was effective.
In my many years on this planet I never enjoyed the opportunity to ride a Rock Lobster until today. I’ve got a host of friends who are big fans of Paul Sadoff’s work; some of them own multiple Rock Lobsters. This was one of the other dream bikes that’s a part of the Easton contest.
This road bike was built from Easton Scandium tubing. It’s been perhaps as many as 10 years since I last rode a Scandium frame and I’d forgotten just how good they feel. For a moment out on the road, I though the bike was steel. At least, I did until I looked again at the weld bead. This was a surprisingly light bike and felt smooth in a way I just don’t associate with aluminum.
Says it all.
I got pretty excited about the BMC TMR01 at last year’s show when it was unveiled. I finally had the chance to ride one today. It was a very fast ride. No one confuses Mavic carbon Cosmics with the fastest wheels around, but they are definitely faster than a box rim. I’d put it in the same class of aero bikes with the Cervelo S5 and Litespeed C1R and ahead of the Specialized Venge.
With the front brake shrouded and the rear brake tucked up under the bottom bracket, this bike has a distinct advantage over some bikes aerodynamically.
My initial impression was that this bike isn’t so stiff to rattle your brain and offers better sensitivity to the road surface than most aero road bikes. I’ve requested one of these for an in-depth review. Honestly, I think it’s the most interesting bike BMC makes, and they make many interesting bikes.
As a kid, I could never quite wrap my head around a visit to the toy store. On the one hand, everything I could ever want was there. On the other, I knew I couldn’t have it all, and so an ontological crisis ensued any time my parents asked me what ONE thing I’d like to take home with me.
Interbike is like that.
Even my jaded adult self has trouble quelling the rip tides of gear lust that drag me down every aisle of the show until I’m standing in front of some booth at the outer reaches of the convention center staring at glittery, fluttery grips for kids’ bikes. There, in that comical space, I can take a breath and do some not-wanting.
Last year, Padraig and I walked the floor together, shaking hands with friends old and new and trying not to let on how badly we wanted at least four of the things in their booths. I will confess now that the things that grabbed me last year were, in no particular order, Giro’s Empire shoes, Pegoretti‘s paint jobs, and the Chrome backpacks they were customizing on-site. This is the short list, the stuff I wanted to grab and make a break for the exit with.
My natural aversion to Las Vegas, or more specifically the Vegas strip, where America spills its banks so ostentatiously, does little to dampen my interest in the latest and greatest cycling finery. It is only fortunate that most of what’s on display is not for sale, and I am, by and large, able to drag my weary bones back out to the airport and doze quietly while some poor soul who didn’t get quite enough, deposits the last of his cash into a slot machine in the departure lounge.
This week’s Group Ride wonders what YOU are most interested in seeing from Interbike. What new products are on your horizon? What should we be looking for, bringing back pictures of, reviewing for the upcoming season? What toy would you pluck from the shelf, if you could only pick one?
Today is what is known in the US as Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving and the official beginning of the consumer frenzy that precedes Christmas. Bike shops across the country will spend this period selling off last year’s unsold inventory and trying to get their books into the black before the New Year comes and puts a general chill on cycling-related commerce.
Eurobike and Interbike allowed bike companies to trot out their wares only very recently. Padraig made a Herculean effort to highlight those wares here, here, here and here, and I was fortunate, this season, to be able to walk the show floor with him and talk about the relative merits of each company’s offering. I, for one, benefit from his insight, as he has this uncanny ability to tell you how something that looks shiny and fast on a pedestal in a conference hall will actually perform out on the road.
My own interests, this year, run almost entirely to more traditional products, made domestically. I can’t get enough wool jerseys. I can’t stop looking at the steel and Ti bikes being turned out by custom builders all over the country. I want almost everything Ibex makes. I want the latest Merckx biographies, and I want more hats. What is it about hats?
Oh, and I need some gloves that will keep my hands operational when the mercury dips below 30F. Suggestions?
This week’s Group Ride ignores completely the shameless consumerism of the season and instead indulges it. What the hell? What do you really, really want for Christmas? Is it a set of wheels? Is it a trainer and a stack of race videos? Are you likely to get whatever it is? Or do you live with a cycling Grinch, someone who doesn’t understand the mania you have for the finest Swiss toe warmers.
Here’s a hint: It involves a planet with five sexes, plus Chinese New Year.
We’ve all grown used to bike brands introducing their new models during or right after the Tour. But then everyone waits around for another couple of months, until Interbike, for the industry’s big sales event. And to top it off, riders who might want to actually buy the new stuff often can’t get their hands on it for a couple months after that.
It’s like you get to open your presents on Christmas morning … but you can’t play with them until Groundhog Day. So what’s up with this craziness?
What’s up is that while you’re waiting for those cool new products, there’s a frantic—and almost entirely hidden—mating dance going on up and down the supply chain among retailers, bike brands, the Asian factories that make most of our bikes, and the component manufacturers that supply the factories. Plus you the consumer, of course, who’s the ultimate source of demand for the whole Rube Goldberg contraption.
Speaking of Rube Goldberg, now imagine a planet with five sexes. What would hookup bars look like? Well, that retina-searing image also represents a pretty good peek inside the bike industry kimono as to what’s going on each year between July and October. Here’s why:
The huge majority of bike sales represent a seasonal and highly weather-dependent business. We were blessed with a great spring last year, for instance, and by May 2012 there weren’t nearly enough bikes in the channel to meet demand.
Other years, the weather turns bad (rainy weekends are an especially effective sales-killer) or the economy goes sour, or both (as they did in 2009), and we have way too much inventory in the channel. That stuff ends up getting discounted to make room for next year’s models. Good news for bargain-hunters, maybe, but the whole business stands to lose tens of millions of dollars in retail sales as a result.
From the point of view of industry salespeople, product managers, and inventory planners, the key to a successful year is to build up a large but finite supply of bikes during September-April to meet in-season demand, while still leaving enough flexibility in the spring months to increase or cut back on production as needed.
Factor in the four-month window between placing POs and actually having bikes available at retailers, and the job becomes something like shooting fish in a barrel … only blindfolded and facing backwards on a fast-moving roller coaster while an army of winged monkeys hurl constant barrages of both insults and poo.
But back to the Rube Goldberg hookup bar. Within its five-way squeeze play, consumers have most of the power and flexibility. They can walk into their LBS during selling season and—assuming everyone else has done their jobs correctly—ride out on the shiny new-model-year bike of their choice.
After that, things get a little more complex.
Moving upstream along the sales channel, retailers need to have bikes available when customers want them. They also want to wait as long as possible each summer before placing orders for the entire next year’s worth of product, too. After all, they’ll be the ones left holding the bag if those bikes don’t sell.
But it takes months of off-season production to build up enough inventory to last through the intense spring/summer selling months. And bike brands don’t want to just fill up warehouses with product and hope bike shops decide to purchase it. They want firm, non-cancellable orders in hand before making a final production commitment with their factories. (Suppliers call this pre-season ordering practice “risk-sharing.” Retailers call it “extortion.” But it happens in all kinds of seasonal industries, not just bikes.)
Factory and component manufacturers, in turn, want to keep their production schedules filled and steady, so they need commitment from bike brands as far in advance as possible.
So what’s all this got to do with Interbike, and more to the point, why is it in mid-September? Turns out that’s the magic time when these various conflicting interests—retailers, bike brands, factories, and component suppliers—all come together. And that, in turn, happens because of Chinese New Year.
For those not familiar with the Asian calendar, the Lunar New Year falls between mid-January and mid-February. This year, for instance, the year of the Dragon started fairly early, on January 23rd. Next year, the year of the Snake, doesn’t start until February 10th.
Throughout the Asian world but especially in China and Taiwan, things pretty much shut down for a month. The official holiday period may vary between a few days and a week, but millions of factory workers—and between 150 million and 200 million total humans—travel to their home villages (Chunyun) for New Year festivities. And back again afterwards.
From a bike-building point of view, the bottom line of Chunyun is that if you want your bikes to ship from the factory before the New Year’s holiday (so they’ll be at retailers’ before the season starts in late March/early April), you pretty much have to place purchase orders by the end of September.
So Interbike becomes the last-ditch chance for retailers to take a look at what’s available industry-wide before placing their “final” orders for the season (there are still opportunities to make adjustments in-season, but those are limited). Bike brands fine-tune POs to their factories based on this information.
Then a big red imaginary button gets pushed somewhere, and something close to a billion dollars worth of bike production is collectively locked and loaded. And then all the players hold their collective breaths until April or May when it becomes clear what sales for the season are actually going to look like.
Meanwhile, development of the two-years-from-now models has already begun. Industry standard is a 14-month dev cycle, so 2014 bikes were already in their initial design/engineering phases back in May of this year.
And later this week, when bike shop buyers and industry salespeople are busy sniffing spokes and talking prices, product managers and factory reps will be huddled up in conference rooms … sweating the details on bikes the rest of us won’t even get a glimpse of until after next year’s Tour.
Follow me on Twitter: @rick_vosper
I’m in Salt Lake City, about to embark on a six-day ride from here to Las Vegas. For the last five years Specialized has hosted a ride from its headquarters in Morgan Hill to Las Vegas and the Interbike trade show. This year, the ride is happening a little differently and its being run from their West Coast distribution center, which is in Salt Lake City.
This year the ride is being used to promote one of Specialized’s advocacy initiatives, called First Ride. The purpose of First Ride, in a grand sense, is to put kids on bicycles. Period.
The International Rescue Committee works with refugee families and is currently working with some Burmese families in Salt Lake City. Twelve children were given bicycles at an event at Specialized today. Some of these kids, such as the boy pictured above, had never ridden a bicycle before. After a brief reception when the bikes were given out, the kids participated in a bicycle rodeo where they learned basic cycling skills.
It’s easy to be cynical about made-for-media events. It’s easy to miss genuine experiences, too. Watching the boy above roll down the walkway, feet off the pedals, balancing and then just before rolling to a stop putting his feet on the pedals and spinning down the parking lot was the best thing I’ve watched this week. In my shot he’s being shown how to operate the hand brake—they had to catch him to stop him.
I’m going to get my ass handed to me tomorrow by some very fast guys on our opening 113-mile ride, but to see those kids today makes it totally worth it.
The bicycle industry has lost a giant. Bill Fields, a man whose career changed the bicycle industry in the United States has died following a prolonged illness that began with West Nile Virus.
Fields’ career outside the bike industry was significant enough for one lifetime. He worked for Hewlett Packard and later for aerospace contractor TRW. However it was when he set up a publisher’s rep firm to sell advertising that he made his first mark on the bike industry. Clients included Bicycling and VeloNews back when neither was particularly sophisticated at ad sales.
He joined Hester Communications, the publisher of Bicycle Dealer Showcase which was—until the rise of Bicycle Retailer and Industry News—the trade publication of record for the U.S. bike industry (there were others, but BDS was the only magazine worth reading back then). Hester also produced the Long Beach trade show, which predated Interbike’s Anaheim show.
The mark that Fields made that more of you will remember was a magazine called Bicycle Guide. Fields launched that in 1983 only to leave it less than 10 years later to begin consulting to the bike biz. He was particularly active consulting to big bike companies and anyone trying to grow their business.
Less known about Fields was that he also offered headhunting services for the bike industry; that may be the truest indicator of the man’s depth of relationships. No matter what role you needed filled, Fields had a resume in his files that was just what you were looking for.
For my part I was always just a little behind him. I began freelancing for BDS in 1993, years after he had departed, and joined the staff of Bicycle Guide in 1996, again, long after Elvis had left the building. However, I was one of many who benefitted from his headhunting services, primarily as a huntee, but on one occasion as a hunter. If Bill Fields introduced you to someone, it was because you needed to know that person. He was as pleasant as a rose, as interested as a reporter, discrete as a spy and better connected than a smuggler. He was the sort of guy you looked forward to calling.
He leaves his wife, Jennifer Fawcett, three children and four grandchildren.
The inevitable outcome to going to any trade show is coming home with armfuls of stuff. Mostly, it’s product literature. That’s true no matter what sort of trade show you attend and after a bit, it all tends to run together. Believe me, when you’re read the specs on one closed-circuit television camera, you’ve read them all.
What makes a trade show visit a success on a personal basis, however, are those items brought home that weren’t product literature, weren’t free for the taking and because of their limited supply were rationed out as scores to select few. The technical term, of course, is schwag.
The irony of the situation is how the attendees who most want schwag are often the ones doing the least amount of actual business. Back in the 1990s when I attended my first bike trade show in Atlantic City, each sticker and key ring I scored told me I was an actual part of the bike industry. Perhaps I overestimated my significance. Yeah, definitely.
I’ve been on the giving side of schwag very rarely, but I’ve come to appreciate the emotional calculus that goes on when trying to consider who is an appropriate recipient for a T-shirt, a trainer, a leather card case—even cycling jerseys. As recipients, we’re supposed to show not just excitement, but passion for the brand; the last thing someone wants is some kid in his booth who doesn’t care what he’s given, so long as it’s free.
In my first few visits to the show, any free sticker was a sticker I didn’t have, and as such, was something I wanted. I still dig stickers; most companies give a fair amount of thought to them and any sticker that can make me smile is worth taking home. And as I scoured the booths for stickers, I did so with the belief that I might head home with something of real value—actual bike parts. And while on a few occasions manufacturers slipped me a handlebar or saddle to take home with me, it took some years for me realize that the stuff I really wanted, the stuff I liked well enough to pay for, would never ride home with me as schwag.
The big epiphany came when I began to see things at the show that I’d never have learned about otherwise, or if I had, by the time I tried to buy one, they’d be all gone. These days, knowing I’m in the loop is the real schwag.
Day two of the Outdoor Demo began—for some, at least—with a ride to Lake Mead that began at 8:00. I borrowed one of Felt’s AR1s, which is the company’s aerodynamic road bike. I had hoped to spend more time on the F2, but the previous afternoon one of the two demo bikes in a 58 got slaughtered in a hot corner by a staffer … d’oh!
The ride begins downhill and I had the distinct impression that some of the riders present weren’t accustomed to such a fast descent in a pack. There were times when even moving to the front of the group remained interesting. Nonetheless, it was a fun bunch. I turned back a bit early because I promised the folks at Felt I’d have the bike back in time for 9:00 demos.
I’ve spent some time watching wind tunnel testing and I’ve noticed a few things about the very fastest bikes. First, the top tube is parallel to the ground. Also, there are no hard edges out where they can catch the wind. I haven’t seen the AR in the wind tunnel, but I have my suspicions that it is a very clean bike to the wind.
BMC has been making inroads and I wanted to find out if the bikes are really that good. The Team Machine is part of a select group of bikes I rode that had superb handling, definitely in the class of the F and Tarmac. It does more to dampen vibration than some bikes I rode.
There simply aren’t many bikes on the market that combine the degree of stiffness that the Giant TCR Advanced SL possesses with precise, balanced handling and genuine road sensitivity. Where this differs from the F and Tarmac is with a stiffer rear triangle. It’s a crit meister’s dream.
I’d never ridden a Moots before yesterday and the Vamoots was a revelation. They should all come with a boarding pass for Europe. This bike is no race machine, but that doesn’t mean it’s not high performance. It was plenty stiff and the handling crisp, but what I most wanted to do on the bike was just pedal into the sunset. The Vamoots wasn’t typical of the bikes at the Outdoor Demo, but it really was one of my favorites.
Next up was the Moots RSL. This sub-15 lb. bike is an indestructible race machine. I’m going to recommend it to a Cat. 2 friend of mine who has terrible luck with crashes. Very stiff with sharp handling. I wish I had more time to write more about it.
The Focus line has been interesting to me and I can say they are doing excellent work. The stiffness was on a par with the other top-end bikes I rode and the handling was exceptional; it reminded me of the BMC. It damps vibration more than some bikes and if you prefer a bike that really mutes vibration without making the bike feel dead, you should have a look at the Izalco.
This new glove from Giro is ultra-thin and super form fitting. It was like wearing a skinsuit for your hand. Pretty fun stuff. Just takes a bit to get it back off.
I ended the day with a ride with the folks at Cervelo. Above is Roger Hammond on the right. We rode the R3 featuring the company’s new BBRight crank and bottom bracket design. Phil White gave us a little presentation and then we took (thank God) a very leisurely spin through a nearby neighborhood. The R3 is fast becoming one of my favorite bikes.
I’ve got to give some thought to my three faves of the two days of riding. I’ll do a short post on that soon.