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Fixed Gear Ride, or… Why Can’t I Just Coast Now?
by Tom Foss and Mike Prendergast
When fellow club member Mike
Prendergast suggested converting our spare road bikes to a fixed gear version
for the winter, little did I know what I was in for.
The first problem we encountered:
our bikes have vertical dropouts. This
makes it problematic to get the correct chain length. Since the dropout is
vertical the distance between the rear wheel and crank is set and you can’t
use a derailleur or slack adjuster to take up any slack like a single speed.
Oh, you ask: what’s the difference?
A single speed, while having only one gear like a fixed, allows you to
coast; a fixed gear does not. On a
fixed, if the rear wheel rotates, the pedals rotate.
To make the vertical dropout frame work, a White Industries ENO eccentric
hub was ordered, along with spokes and a rim to build a fixed gear rear wheel.
The ENO has bolts that are off-centered from the axle allowing the axle
of the wheel to be positioned within an oval in relation to the center of the
dropouts. While Mike opted to have
professionals build his wheel, I decided to do it myself.
It was my first attempt at wheel building, which later turned into a
problem, but you have to learn sometime, right?
We finally decided a 42x16 was
the gearing we wanted. On a warm fall morning sitting in the sun outside on the
deck, with the Gunnar in the workstand and the newly built rear wheel alongside,
I started to build my first fixed gear bicycle.
I removed both derailleurs and their shift cables. I removed the outside
chainring from the triple and replaced the chainring bolts.
I would have removed the granny gear for aesthetics, but that required
removing the right crank arm, and I was trying to keep the work to a minimum.
Next I positioned the rear wheel with the ENO hub in the dropouts,
determined the correct chain length, rotated the hub to get a nice tight chain,
and then tightened the axle bolts. The
final step was to align the rear brake pads to the new rim position.
Some people ride a fixed gear without brakes, but it’s not very safe.
Thanksgiving morning I made a
first attempt to ride the fixed gear. Think
about how you clip into your pedal. While straddling your bike, you clip into
the left pedal first (or right) and then push off, and, while coasting,
you bring the pedals back around to a position the other foot can step into the
pedal. Snap!
And off you go. Wait, you
can’t coast on a fixed gear! After
several attempts, I finally learned how to get the bike started without falling
over. You discover that before you
start moving and while straddling the bike you have to pick up the rear wheel to
get the pedals in the right position to step into the first pedal of your
choice; then pushing off you pedal very, very slowly while trying to position
your other foot over the pedal, while it moves, and try to step in while
not crashing. Nothing to it! Speed
doesn’t help here; in fact it’s a hindrance.
My ride from home through
Confluence Park and on to Wash Park via the Cherry Creek bike path was a poor
choice for a first ride on a fixed gear: the sparse holiday traffic was still
too much traffic and there were too many stops and starts on city streets. Besides, there’s that small matter of the descent from
north Denver to the Platte River valley. On
the descent the 42x16 is not fast enough, and on the return climb the gearing is
not low enough; our chosen gearing is meant for flats and gently rolling
terrain. On the ride back from Wash
Park, I stopped at a convenience store for a pint of half & half for the
Thanksgiving dinner mashed potatoes and discovered that simple things like
stowing something away in your jersey pocket becomes a task of split
concentration. If I were on a bike
that could coast, I would just stop pedaling while I concentrated on reaching
behind me and stuffing the half & half in my jersey pocket, but there’s NO
COASTING! After almost spilling
myself off the bike because I attempted to coast, I had to split my
concentration between turning the pedals over and stowing my cargo.
My second ride a week later,
with Mike from his house in Erie to Platteville and back, was slightly less
stressful but still a learning experience; you learn that you can’t stand on
the pedals and stretch the hamstrings while coasting.
The 57-mile trip was on the long side for a second ride.
I quickly discovered that you do a lot of coasting on a regular bike.
Towards the end of the ride, I thought I was beginning to hallucinate
when my rear wheel started to feel out of round. It turns out I have 999 more
wheels to build before I become an expert at wheel building.
Learning is great, and I’m looking forward to more rides on the fixed
gear, but do you think I should put a cog with a freewheel on the other side of
the hub?
Tom
Foss
Intro
One of the reasons I wanted to ride a fixed gear bike is to experience what
our cycling ancestors had to overcome and learn what it was like to ride on a
very different bicycle. Tom gives
you a great understanding for what it is like on a first ride.
Since our first rides, we are discovering
many nuances the fixed gear throws at you.
Since starting this fall I’ve ridden the fixed gear over 900 miles,
including the RMCC New Year’s Day century.
Fixed Gear Basics
As noted above, the number one difference from a freewheel bike is you can never
coast. And the second is that you
only have one gear. This seems like
a huge problem until you spend some time riding this way.
But the human body is remarkable in adapting and thriving in a new
situation. That sounds a little
heavy for bicycle riding, but I’m still amazed by the adaptation, and hope I
can explain it.
Building the Bike
Tom explained some of the setup issues above, so I won’t repeat those.
Building up a fixed gear can be done for nearly nothing to nearly
infinity. The choice is up to you.
If you have a spare bike or frame, this might be the best place to start.
If you want to build a bike up and need help, let me know.
Learning not to coast
This is probably the biggest fear going
in. And if it is holding you back
from trying a fixed gear, relax. It
really isn’t a big deal. Sure
you will scare yourself a time or two by trying to coast.
The feedback is immediate, negative, and non-fatal.
After you ride a fixed gear for a short time, something inside you, I
can’t tell if it is muscle or brain, will stop allowing you to coast.
You will have to think and give your self permission to coast.
Some of the coasting we do is
purely out of habit. Good examples
are when you grab a drink or eat something.
There is really no need to coast. You
can still do these things while pedaling and more importantly you must.
And there is the difference. Inevitability
turns tasks that seem hard or impossible into the normal or common place.
And this to me is one the best lessons of riding a fixed gear.
For me coasting was not a switch that could be turned off.
It took some time. On the first few rides I was like a hawk looking for any
object, hole, car, person that could cause me to suddenly try to coast.
After all it is the first thing we do on the bike when startled.
In time, you learn to do most everything you can do on a freewheel bike. But I haven’t figured out how to get off my knee warmers.
The Century
Riding the fixed gear on the New Year's Day
Century was a goal for me. I
thought it was a crazy idea at first. Building
up to the ride, I did all my weekend riding on the fixed from mid-November. The longest ride was 75 miles two weeks before.
The day started out with a great turnout for the ride (about 50 people)
and sunshine but cold temperatures. The
average temperature for the entire six-hour ride was 37F.
It was well below freezing at the start.
I had hoped to get some other riders to join me on fixed gear bikes, but
I ended up as the lone fixie. The biggest obstacle for me came early in the ride: the
Morgul-Bismark wall. We descended
the wall, and with my gearing I was spinning at 135 rpm for most of the
downhill. I used the brakes all the way down and went as fast as I
dared hitting a maximum speed of 30 mph. Downhill
on a fixed is the hardest part of the ride.
A steep or long downhill will make even a heavy-weight, non-climber like
me beg for an uphill section. I hit
my highest heart rate, 170, of the day going down the wall!
This turned the first eight or so miles of the century into a very tough
stretch for me. The uphill is hard,
and downhill is harder. I really doubted my ability to finish when we cruised into
Boulder. My legs were a little to
tired with over 75 miles to go. Luckily
I had some riding buddies along to help out.
Brand, Tom, and I rolled along heading for Lyons.
I was feeling much better now as the terrain smoothed out, and I could
manage all the up and downhill parts without a big effort.
Coming into Lyons, and then stopping for some food and drink, we were 50
miles into the ride. I felt good
now, and we took a short break and then headed out.
The route for the next 15 or so miles goes east, and we had a mild
headwind. I was still feeling good,
but, at around the 70 mile mark, I suddenly felt very tired.
Maybe it was the fact that I could turn right and be home in 30 minutes.
I started to eat and drink steadily for the rest of the ride.
What a difference. After 20
minutes, I felt energy return to my body. Brand
reminded me that now (beyond 75 miles) I was in new territory with every pedal
stroke.
While basking in this glory, I
had my final neurotic thought, “oh,
I hope the tailwind isn’t to strong when we turn west and head in for the
finish.” Strong tailwinds are
just like a downhill. Pedal cadence
rises rapidly and seemingly with no end it sight.
Your heart rate goes up, you rock in the saddle trying to smooth out your
stroke at legs speeds you have never done before, and you can’t pull the plug
and start to coast.
Whatever cadence you get up to,
you must come down from gradually. You
begin to wonder just how long you can hold the cadence.
The more you worry, the worse it gets.
If you learn to relax, the stroke smoothes out, and you can handle it.
You can even enjoy the fast cadence.
“Yeah, I know that. But I
really still hope that the tailwind is mild”, I thought to myself.
It was.
We cruised along with little effort heading west and then on into the
finish. Doing the century on a
fixed gear, made the experience like riding 100 miles for the first time.
And it was great to rekindle that feeling. Thanks Brand and Tom for being there and waiting for me on
the downhill parts.
Mike
Prendergast
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