Look around your average minimalist apartment, and it is easy to see why the spartan style gives some people the chills. Where’s the stuff? Where’s the warmth? Where’s the love?
But look around your average apartment, and minimalism is looking good. What else offers a full-strength cure for stylistic confusion, wiping out badly chosen color schemes and banal stacks of trivia in one fell swoop, like Cipro for the home?
You can debate minimalism’s merits (the embodiment of calm) and pitfalls (another high-priced folly) without end, which its best-known practitioner, the British architect John Pawson, is all too aware of. No matter. From the Calvin Klein flagship store in Manhattan, which he designed a decade ago, through 50 Gramercy Park North, the Ian Schrager hotel-style apartment house, which is to open in January, Mr. Pawson has remained staunchly himself.
His days in and out of the sun have taught him something: You can’t take it all too seriously. He gave vent to that carefree attitude on vacation in Sag Harbor, N.Y., a few years ago, when after a wine-fueled lunch he and a friend bumbled into a high-price bicycle store and left with high-price bicycles. He proceeded to ride his model, a Kestrel, around the Hamptons for the rest of the vacation, a total convert, or at least a reconvert, having cycled in high school.
Taking the bike and his enthusiasm back to London, Mr. Pawson became, he said, “what I euphemistically call a serious cyclist.” As he explained, “I don’t go out without the Lycra.”
However droll he may be about the gear, he became serious enough about his new hobby to enter the Étape du Tour, an amateur race that follows the route of one stage of the Tour de France. And he became serious enough about crossing the finish line with his dignity intact to invest in a new bicycle from Seven, a Boston company that sells only custom-made bicycles, for a custom-made price.
Not everyone was impressed. “My wife was horrified,” he said. His argument that the more than $6,000 he spent was less than the price of a car fell on deaf ears. After all, even the shiniest, German-made midlife crisis seats two.
And when Mr. Pawson showed up in France with his new toy, his friends just stared. “It’s a bit like showing up to go to the beach in a Ferrari,” he said.
The Seven model he bought, the Odonata, has a frame of titanium and carbon. Unlike the design of many novel bikes, the Odonata’s is fairly conservative, its value being in the way it fits your body, taking into account the length of your legs, arms and torso, as well as your weight and center of gravity. “They took more measurements than if I’d been having a suit made,” Mr. Pawson said.
He did ask the bike’s makers not to put their decals on it, “but they put them on anyway,” he said. So much for minimalism. Then there is the clutter — tire pumps, water bottles, cleats and all that Lycra — that the bike trails in its wake. Even so, its great appeal is that it is all Mr. Pawson needs to get away.
“I’ve actually found something that can stop me thinking about architecture,” he said. “Once you’re on the bike, you leave stuff behind.”
Yes, it is all there when you get back, but it seems to matter less. That’s a kind of minimalism everyone can appreciate.
You’ve ridden every road within a 50-mile radius of your home so many times you know every crack in the pavement. Does the mere thought of doing the same old rides make you nauseous?
Are you starting to see the dirt roads along the way and wonder where they go as you fantasize about hills not yet climbed and rednecks not yet encountered? Granted, some of you are so obsessed with specificity of training (and not getting dirty) that you’ve never considered anything beyond two skinny tires and smooth tarmac. But if you are starting to feel bored to tears by routes that were once exciting, it’s time for you to “cross” over.
Many triathletes own a mountain bike and in the off-season — or very early season — they actually use it, but only if it’s not too close to their sacred triathlon season. There seems to be an underlying assumption that it’s OK to go off-road, but only if it’s not during serious training time.
“No sir, we sure don’t want mountain bike riding to ruin the upcoming tri-season! What if we’re not on our aerobars by January? Maybe we’ll grow hair on our legs and start enjoying a little dirt coating on our two front teeth. Maybe we’ll start laughing during rides and forget to wear our heart rate monitor (the horror)! Surely, we’ll miss out on some crucial neuromuscular development.”
Wrong!
The perfect alternative
Mountain biking is a perfect alternative to your rides on the road and is good for your head — not to mention those bike-handling skills. Have you ever stood on a corner at an Ironman race and watched the participants try to negotiate a 90-degree turn on their bikes?
If NASCAR fans only knew how close a crash was to happening 2,000 times at any Ironman bike course turn (4,000 times for a two-loop course), they’d leave their television sets and set up bleachers and a beer tent. Memo to all of you: When going around a corner, keep your inside pedal (the one closest to the apex of the turn) up! Phew! You’re scaring me to death.
“But,” you say, “I don’t like fat tires. They go too slow and I don’t need the suspension because I’m not going to risk crashing on technical, rooty, rocky terrain. I want something I can cover some ground on. I’m sticking to graded dirt roads.”
Meet the bike
Funny you should bring that up, because have I got the bike for you: Meet the cyclocross bike, or ‘cross bike or CX as it’s sometimes called. You’ve probably seen one — you know, it looks like a standard road bike but with fatter tires and those funky center pull brakes.
Cyclocross racing is enjoying some healthy growth and CX bikes are back in the limelight. The racing is fun, but, more importantly, this is a bike that can go anywhere, anytime, in any conditions. It’s the perfect addition to a triathlete’s two-wheeled arsenal.
You’re thinking, ‘OK, Roch. You explain to my people (family, spouse, etc.) that I need to purchase yet another bike. I can barely get an entry fee without a General Accounting Office fact-finding mission. Now I’m going to get another bike? You could have told me about this before Christmas!’
The fact is you’re going to ride this bike all year long — not just in the off-season — and you do have a birthday coming up, don’t you?
Again, this isn’t just about riding off-road for a change of pace and then, once the pre-season arrives, going back to the tri-bike full time.
Riding once a week on your tri-bike is an important early season practice. It will allow you to gradually adapt to the flexibility needed for the aero position and the specific recruitment of time-trialing muscle groups. If you’re set up well on your ‘cross bike there’s no reason you can’t use it for all other rides.
Then, once the race season arrives, 90 percent of your rides should be back on your tri bike for the training specificity of the aero position. That still leaves you one ride each week where you can swap out the aero bars and road rage for the peace and quiet of those exploratory backcountry rides on your ‘cross bike.
This is also a great way to justify the purchase of a new bike as you will use it year-round, and it offers the ideal mental break from the normal road cycling training grind. “Honey, it’s a justifiable expenditure. I need it. Roch said.” Leave that last part out; but the rest should work.
Is a ‘cross bike truly as good as riding a road or tri bike on the road? Let’s see. The fatter tires give you some bite and suspension when off-road, but once they’re back on the pavement they roll almost as fast as the skinny 19-22-millimeter tires on road bikes.
This is the key: you don’t feel as if you are sacrificing your fitness on a ‘cross bike, yet you still have the ability to head off-road and liven up your training. Riding on rough or dirt/gravel roads also builds bike-handling skills.
Improve your handling skills
Most triathletes (yes, even you) get into the sport of triathlon without first developing cornering, descending and braking skills — not to mention bike etiquette such as holding your line, pointing out debris and obstacles in a group, etc. Hitting the dirt forces you to build technical proficiency. This is true of mountain biking, too, but the trails may be intimidating to beginners and even some veteran triathletes.
Yes, one could use a mountain bike on the rolling backcountry gravel roads, but again, the thought, “It doesn’t feel like my tri bike, therefore it must not be doing me any good” tends to wander into the mind of the obsessive, compulsive, I-have-to-be-going-at-least-18-mph triathlete. Of course, it’s not true, but on a ‘cross bike you don’t tend to have this thought.
A little too cold outside to hit the road? Take the ‘cross bike out and hit the trails. Your speed will be slower than on the roads, reducing the wind chill and allowing you to last longer and feel like you are getting a “more specific” training session.
Peter Reid has been using his ‘cross bike for years. “From March to September I ride it once a week,” Reid says. “I do this awesome 100-mile loop all on fire roads. Riding those roads really makes me strong due to the constant rolling resistance. You never seem to get a break. Right now my ‘cross bike is converted to a full-on winter bike. It weighs a bit more but I can put some major fenders on it compared to a tri or standard road bike.”
Aside from building bike-handling skills and affording you the joy of getting on some dirt, you can also use the ‘cross bike on pavement in the rain, as its bigger tires give you more traction. You also save your beloved tri bike and its fancy components from the bad weather.
Change is good. While training should be specific, the key to longevity in any sport is variety. Throwing in some ‘cross riding year-round will keep you fresh mentally and add some fun to your cycling. Come July, it’s been five or six months of toiling on the tri bike and suddenly you find that those long Saturday rides are not as inviting.
Switch it up! Get the ‘cross bike out and ride a completely different loop. Before you know it, you’ll find yourself riding around a muddy circuit in November, dismounting and mounting your trusty steed in one smooth motion like a seasoned Euro, and you’ll wonder why you were so hesitant to try a ‘cross bike.
You know what they say? Once you’ve ‘crossed over you’ll never go back.
Roch Frey coaches all levels and ages of multi-sport athletes from beginner to professional athletes including Heather Fuhr, 1997 Ironman Hawaii Champion and Peter Reid, 1998 and 2000 Ironman Hawaii Champion.
We’re please to announce that team Kenda-Seven riders Mary McConneloug and Mike Broderick have been selected to the U.S. National team to compete in the World Champions on August 31 in Livigno, Italy. This is Mary’s third trip to the Worlds and Mike’s second. Mary is currently the top-ranked American in the World.
From all of us at Seven Cycles, best of luck Mary and Mike!
Team Kenda-Seven racers Mary McConneloug and Mike Broderick write in from the road. Their recent adventures in Colorado included some racing, some training, and some inspiring words for some young aspiring cyclists.
Mid-summer in the remote, high-elevation regions of Colorado is beautiful beyond description. Incredible Aspen-lined trails, 14,000-foot snow capped mountains, secluded hot springs on raging rivers. And, of course, overfull campgrounds teeming with vehicles that dwarf even our 40 feet of van and trailer. The summer population outnumbers the actual Colorado residents by more than double, resulting clogs at every inch of recreational space each weekend. This leaves us thankful for the quieter weekdays, which allow us some time to experience the open space—or at least find an open campsite.
Snowmass is a destination winter resort town near Aspen that boasts some really great skiing and some sweet high-elevation (8500 feet at the base) mountain bike trails, as well. The NORBA race venue seemed to fill the entire town. It was hectic and cramped, so Mary and I instinctively ended up 40 or so miles away, camping down a quiet dead end canyon road to keep us from getting caught up in the chaos.
The racecourse was set up in the typical alpine style: one steep long climb at the outset and a fast technical descent to the finish. And it was long, with each lap taking around 40 minutes to complete. Mary and I rode a lap the day before the race, but she decided that it would be best to sit this one out, since a huge effort at this elevation with the extra dusty conditions could set her back from her recent recovery from bronchitis—and there was still plenty of race season ahead of her.
Race day was hot and dry. The 100+ men’s field went off at 3:00pm creating an enormous cloud of dust. The opening climb seemed endless: 30+ minutes of struggling even in one of the smaller gears, keeping the throttle pinned just to creep upward and stay on the wheel of the sweaty dude in font of you. The long descent to the finish brought some relief, as we railed down twisty off-camber singletrack through beautiful Aspen groves and the occasional mountain stream.
I was surprised to see the cloud cover start to roll in during the second of three laps, but there was no mistaking the cooling effect and the rain drops as they started to fall. This was without question a good thing, given the intense heat and dust. As I summited the huge climb for the final time and dove into the dark singletrack descent, the rain had started to fall in force and made things a little trickier. It took a bit more effort and a little less speed to navigate; but after the severity of the climbs that were behind me, it was still really enjoyable.
I managed to pass a few key riders on the final climb and was able hold them off on the descent to collect an 11th place finish. I was stoked to cross the line and be done for the day—especially since I noticed that the cloud cover was turning from gray to black. A stiff wind-driven rain began to pelt the large crowd that had gathered for the finish. Lightening striped the sky as thunder boomed in unison. Spectators struggled to wait for their riders to come across the line, determined to tough it out and feel a little of the pain that the riders go through. But the stone hard ice-cube size hail changed those hardy fans (and myself) into scurrying rats diving for the closest shelter. Hats off to those who struggled in and finished in that mess. Racing is always a bit painful, but I know firsthand that this one was over the top.
Mary and I spent almost a week in Basalt, CO before we knew it. Our quiet campground was surrounded by incredible roads and trails that kept us from thinking about much else. We found ourselves climbing thousands of feet on 2-hour singletracks, turning around at the top and descending for a fun-filled hour back to the trailhead. I tried in vain to do some “easy spins” on the road bike, only to be lured into a 5-hour epic to summit a 12,000′ pass. It was just irresistible.
Our next move was towards Telluride, CO to contest an Inter Mountain State Cup Series race. Telluride had already played a part of both our pasts in some way. Mary learned to snowboard here, and it is where I spent a winter working a nighttime sales job to support an advanced snowboarding habit. Summer in Telluride was a first for both of us, and we were both struck by how incredible this town is. As real estate prices clearly indicate, many others feel the same way.
The racecourse began out of a mountain village at a literally breath taking 9,500′, then climbed fiercely for 800′ or so through a mix of painfully steep fire roads and beautiful traversing singletrack. There was no more than 1k of flat riding on the entire course and just a fraction of it at the top of the climb before we were sent down a beautiful rugged 2.5km switchback descent to the finish. Mary and I raced at the same time and we both really enjoyed the course and the well-planned venue. The promoters (Cycle Syndicate) really put on a good show for everyone.
Mary was psyched to be back racing and didn’t bother to hold back from throwing down a big effort at the start. This resulted in her dropping the entire women’s field and launched her solidly into the expert men, who had started 2 minutes prior. Mary took advantage of the men’s field to hone her race tactics, using her climbing skills to pass as many of them as possible to get a clear, dust-free shot at the descent. Mary finished her three laps with a six-minute lead on the closest woman and an unofficial fifth position in the expert men’s field. She was stoked to be back to her racing ways and seemed better off overall from her short mid-season break.
I was wondering how my big week of training would affect my race form and was thinking twice about my decision to go so big as I saw some familiar Colorado tough guys at the start. I was treating this as a training race—and good training it was. I followed a big attack that started at the gun and lasted all the way through the long climb to the top. Ouch! On the second of four laps, I had settled into a more comfortable third position. I saw throughout the race that I could make a lot of time on the second place guy on the difficult final descent. It seemed that what I needed to do to beat him was hang on to within 20 seconds at the top of the final climb. It’s really more my style to push it throughout the entire race, but the elevation was forcing me to be more strategic. I used as little energy as possible on the final climb and made my attack on the descent, quickly finding the wheel of second place through the thick dust. As I applied the pressure looking for a place to pass on the impossibly narrow trail, he frantically picked up the pace, took a bad line, and kissed the ground in one of the soft corners just 1km from the finish. I was able to cruise through to a second place finish on the day.
Mary and I took some extra time for a bit of fun to the highly attended kids’ race that was taking place a few hours after our finish. Mary led out a group of 12 girls ranging in age from 3 to 12 and even more widely spread in ability. It was beautiful to see the affect that she had on them. The girls loved that someone so personable was out there, and the parents were even more stoked to have their kids racing with an Olympian. Mary had a rewarding autograph session after the race with the majority of the kid racers and their families. She’s genuinely stoked to inspire people—especially kids—to get out and ride their bikes.
My experience leading out the 10 or so little boys’ race was an equally cool experience. It felt really good to give a little something back to the sport that has given us so much.
We were able to squeeze in a fun ride the next day out of Telluride that started with free gondola ride up past 10, 000 feet. Telluride is the only town in the states that offers a free year-round gondola service that you can use for commuting from town to the mountain village or just to get in some easy vert on the mountain. We ended up on a 2.5-hour ride mostly downhill on remote single track. For us, it doesn’t get much better than that.
Mary and I are now driving from Colorado and across to southwestern Utah to stop # 6 on the NORBA National circuit in Brianhead, UT. We are really enjoying this segment of our trip, but are also looking forward to heading back to Europe in three weeks to contest the World Championships in Livigno, Italy and the final round of the world cup series in Fort William, Scotland.
