Cranky

You may recall that I started experimenting with shorter cranks. I rode with 165s on my Advocate Cycles gravel bike for over seven months but ultimately decided to move on. I tried, but I just couldn't get used to them. Perhaps the drop from 175s to 165s was just too much.

I don't think the crank length itself was as much of an issue as was the way it completely upended my bike fit and feel. On the last ride with the cranks, even after seven months of use, at various times my saddle felt too high, too low, too far back and too far forward. It's a very weird sensation. There was also a stretch of a few miles when it felt absolutely perfect and I was really ripping along. Unfortunately those "perfect" situations were few and far between.

I picked up a pair of 170mm Rival arms for a song on Amazon. I had to move the chainring over from the old Apex cranks. I am not sure why Sram moved from three bolts to eight. It seems like complete overkill, but I am sure the head of Chainring-Crank Arm Interface Structural Engineering (CCAISE) would tell me otherwise.

Once I installed all the teeny, tiny bolts I was ready to go.

They are the same Road Wide specs as the old ones, so I didn't need to mess with researching which bottom bracket spacers to use. I bolted them on, did a quick tension adjustment, and went riding.

I lowered the saddle 6mm and didn't touch the setback at all. After two rides I think the saddle is very close to it's final position.

I think for me a 170 crank is the best compromise. I didn't struggle to find the right spot on the bike, and climbing felt normal again.

I also put 170s on my mountain bike shortly after this bike, and now I am completely converted. After well over 40 years of using 175mm cranks for everything from BMX to road racing, it's the end of another era.

I don't know that a mere five millimeters is going to alleviate any issues with my hips, which was the reason this experimentation started, but I guess every little bit helps.

Later.

Slash

 Welcome to the jungle. You're gonna die.

Well, you know, eventually. And it will probably be a violent death. If you're one of my tires.

Stay with me here. This will make sense in a minute.

I rolled out for a ride on my gravel bike yesterday and made it a mere two-tenths of a mile before my rear tire blew. I was going about 20 miles per hour down the hill I live on, but I safely came to a stop right before the entrance to the bike trail.

The hole was pretty big. I couldn't really see any details between my poor eyesight, sealant bleeding everywhere and a lot of bark and grit sticking to the wound. I walked back home and grabbed my other gravel bike and completed my ride.

When I returned home I changed clothes and headed to the garage armed with some eye glasses. After brushing away all the debris, I could now see that there was a huge slash in the tire—a nice, clean cut.

This is unfortunate since this Rene Hearse tire still had a lot of life yet. It's also unfortunate because it's the second tire I have ruined this year.

I walked back to the scene of the crime to look for the murder weapon but found nothing. Maybe some concerned citizen picked it up or the weapon was thrown clear of the crime scene. Maybe the slasher returned to retrieve the weapon.

This isn't the first time I have been attacked by a slasher. Fifteen years ago I suffered a similar cut from a carelessly discarded utility knife blade.

My forensics team believes it is the same murder weapon.

As of now it is an unsolved crime. Be careful out there. A slasher is on the loose.

Later.