You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Belgium’ tag.
Did I really need a new road bike? Definitely not. But I bought one anyhow, maybe because I turned 40 the other day, maybe because of the fact that with the kid around I have less time to drive the car to suitable mountain bike spots of which there aren’t any here in the floodplains of the mighty river Schelde, or maybe because I never skimp on bikes, since they really are the one thing I spend money on (and a bit of travel as well) – remember, I don’t drink, don’t smoke, always wear a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and sustain myself to a large extent on fruit and vegetables (and M&Ms).
My current bike shop (I always patronize one bike shop only) does Specialized, and so I looked at their gamma first. I fairly quickly settled on the 2012 Tarmac SL3 Expert, as it ticked all my boxes: full-carbon, timeless black color scheme, low weight (7.5kg without pedals), Shimano Ultegra groupset, and importantly, a mid-compact crankset, 52/36, which is a little more benign than 53/39. I consider 53/39 to be passé: you almost have to be a pro to push 53 on the flats or to push 39 in the mountains (for instance in combination with a 25 in the back). As it’s important to keep the Q-factor as low as possible, I wouldn’t consider a triple crank either.
This spring a lot of classics were won (both Omega Pharma-Quikstep and Astana are riding Specialized) on the SL4, the successor to the SL3, and with it only being 90g lighter and 19% stiffer (laterally) than the SL3, I opted for not paying the premium to ride the same steed as the pros. I’m nevertheless riding the same bike as Alberto Contador when he won/didn’t win the 2010 Tour de France.
My new bike is a little over 1kg lighter than my previous one, which is huge. 1kg on the bike equals 10kg on the body! (Mallorca, here I come.)
Sometimes here in Belgium the clouds hang so low and thick and dark over the land that in their lowness and thickness and darkness they exert a palpable and ominous physical presence on the beings underneath. As if someone strung a giant tarpaulin over Ghent and the villages sheltering in its vicinity, a malevolent shadow to be imposed at will. Between when it rained and when it didn’t rain (the day before yesterday), the roads never really dried up; toward the evening, light started filtering back in and the edge of the tarp stood out in sharp contrast against a reddening evening sky.
