Coffee notes - The Aeropress

2010 Aeropress on the left; 2012 Aeropress on the right

Thought I'd follow my Kenya post with a very brief coffee digression. You might know this piece of kit, the Aeropress. It's a brilliant way to make coffee and it has won diehard fans among several cyclists I ride with. Why? Simply, you get a nearly-espresso without any of the hassle of a machine; you retain creative control over the strength and intensity of the brew; you can use an espresso grind to considerable effect, short of generating 9 bars of pressure like a machine, and finally, the paper filter through which you 'plunge' the syringe leads to a cup of coffee without of the sort of detritus and granular residue you get in a cafetiere. I'd add that it's unbreakable, eminently transportable for travelling, and very suited to offices with no kitchen, like mine. You squeeze out the puck of spent coffee, wipe off the rubber surface and you're done - again unlike cafetiere. Oh - and it's cheap at £19.99. Spend your budget on the grinder instead, which is the most important piece of kit by far. I'm not personally an espresso snob. The Aeropress is perfect for long, strong coffees, lattes, filter equivalents, mochas and so forth.
I've been running two x 2010 models every day at home and work for two years. Recently one of them attained an unshakable odour of tired coffee beans, indicating that some of the oils had somehow become ingrained in the plastic and gone rancid. Intensive cleaning didn't solve the lingering taint. Then, the black rubber plunger was one day sticky of its own accord, which spelt more trouble. I called my coffee guru friend Jonathan Money, founder of Cream Supplies Limited (www.creamsupplies.co.uk). He said it was a known problem with early generation models that came with clear plastic. "The plastic can also go crazy paving, with micro-cracks and then porous as a result," he noted. This helps account for the staining shown in the photo above, Aeropress on the left.
I ordered two replacements from Jonathan, one of them shown above. They came within 24 hours, which reflects the fact that he supplies the trade too - no messing around when your coffee shop lives and dies by haviung good kit that works. Brilliant. The newer version has a different plastic composition and a smoky appearance. So I'm up and running again.

Back from Kenya's '10 to 4' MTB Race

The bike fundi, Nanyuki, Kenya, 17 Feb 2012

Not beyond repair at all; just bring in a shoulder patch

Exactly this time a week ago, I was gasping my way up Mount Kenya for this year's '10 to 4' race. It's the 11th edition of an event that began in 2001, but owing to a sponsorship muddle this year, it was cancelled as a race and staged instead as a GPS, DIY event - one might say an offroad audax or randonnee, of 70kms. It needs to be re-named the '4 to 10 to 4' on account of the new twist: going up the mountain before coming back down again, starting at 4,000 feet, topping out at 10,000 feet and then returning to 4,000. I'm writing about this whole adventure at greater length for another publication so will not recount much here, except to say it was mindblowingly arduous - our team of five crossing the finish line in 8 hrs 26. Another team clocked 10.43, while a third of the miniscule, 26 strong field retired. The leading group of three, Kerry Glen, Kimberly Green and Alex Tibwitta stormed in at  just 6.13. Chapeau indeed. These times reflect GPS savvy as well as riding ability. James, my UK, Nanyuki-based friend, was an ace with his Garmin GPSMap 62, but nonetheless we knew that not being handlebar mounted, it provoked many a stop where otherwise we might have saved time. What am I saying? I was always grateful to stop. The altitude is a severe impediment if you're coming straight from sea level, as I was, and almost stops you in your tracks following any serious exertion. I felt the mildly hypoxic state that the mountaineers talk about. Later, I experienced a headache, and drank over 9 litres of water during the event, most of it loaded with hydration powders.

Indian kit in East Africa. It's ubiquitous.

These trips to foreign climes are I suspect of very little interest to other people, as well as being unsustainable in the airmiles sense. However, I was struck by the general bike culture in Kenya, which is widespread, utilitarian and rather wonderful in its own right. The mostly Indian sourced bikes are referred to generically as Black Mambas. They have double top tubes, an auxiliary fork and an industrial stength rack, reckoned to be good for 75 kgs. It's not uncommon to see them being pushed rather than ridden, with almost ridiculous loads. The 'bike fundi' or doctor, as they're known, is expected to fix stuff that is broken beyond repair, like the tyre shown here, its gaping side wall bodged up with some copper wire. The funny thing is that when I took interest in this, the fundi immediately demonstrated the 'Made in India' sidewall imprint as a badge of honour, and said the tyre was fine and would go alot longer. Crikey!

It says: 'Steel Domed Sweet Sound'

Coffee culture. On left it says, 'Butchery and Hotel'

Finally, I can't resist introducing an unexpected sliver of coffee culture, which I hope to be a clandestine undercurrent of this website given the evident and growing preoccupation most of my cycling chums have with superb coffee experiences. Kenya in this regard encapulates the paradox of so many emerging markets attuned to cash crops for export. Immediately in front of the doorstep of the Nescafe vendor shown here, lies Mount Kenya, where some of the best triple A cooperative grown coffees in the world are grown, only to be immediately exported. I can buy them here in the UK from favourite top vendors such as Hasbean.co.uk. Within Kenya, Dormens is the leading 'top brand' but falls far short of the boutique, freshly roasted scene that passes for top honours now in London, Melbourne and even Seattle. Meanwhile, what was cool here in the UK back in the 1970s -instant coffee- is being touted as cool in Kenya, in a land where surplius disposable income is likely to be spent on processed food, itself a sign of sophistication and high taste. Meanwhile we're trying to get back to wholefoods.

REVIEW: Schwalbe Marathon

REVIEW Schwalbe Marathon, 700 x 25C Greenguard, wired.
PSI: 85-115; Weight: 520g; Price £21.99 (Wiggle)

Not showing the slightest sign of wear after 2,500 kms

This is the first of what I hope will be many tyre reviews, since it's an endlessly fascinating subject. New or different tyres represent one of the most dramatic ways you can change your ride without changing your bike. A Canadian friend of mine once imparted wisdom from his father: "Son, never go cheap on two things in life, shoe leather and tyres." I've never forgotten that. Tyres completely transform how a car drives, how a bike handles, and they can be the difference between heaven and hell - and not just as they puncture at dusk after a long day in the saddle.
My benchmark tyre for audax, club runs, winter racing and year-round commuting is the Continental Grand Prix Four Seasons in 700x23/25/28.
Once I'd adopted rack and panniers for a doubled commute across some very glassy London streets, I realised I was in an almost permanent state of anticipating punctures. Wear rates accelerated on the rear tyre and I was needing to check the tread with a strong torch and mini-Swiss army knife weekly, to prise out tiny shards of glass. The front tyre regularly yielded up six to eight fragments. With my mileages going up, the tyres were showing alot of scars after just six months. The tread was sliced, nicked, scored and pitted in every direction, with some real holes appearing. That doesn't mean the Conti isn't a brilliant tyre, as you'll see...
So for the winter I switched completely to Schwalbe's 'original' Marathon, now coming as standard with a three millimetre breaker layer of highly elastic, India rubber between tread and carcass. This is not to be confused with the 'Plus' version which has a thicker, blue layer of breaker.
I was attracted for two reasons. First because I had not realised that you could get this tyre in a narrow, racy 700x25 format, and secondly because it is a classic tyre that I'd always wanted to subject to a big test. Finally, Schwalbe had recently revisited the original format, adding the 'Greenguard' layer and beefing up the side walls, and the tyre seemed good value at £21.99, given the recent spike in rubber prices that have taken most branded tyres up into the range of £30 +.
I was mistaken about the first assumption, that the 700x25 format makes it a racy tyre. It isn't, and not just because of the 520g weight. I mounted the tyres on Shimano RS20 rims and inflated to my normal 100 PSI. The crown of the tyre 'balloons' slightly at this point, and added to the far higher rolling resistance of the sidewalls led to a sensation of the tyre wanting to 'fall over' when presented with a slight camber or knarly line of slippery painted yellow line.
A club mate reckoned I needed touring rims with an additional millimetre of width, and his advice was not to inflate them so high. I wasn't going to buy new wheels to service new tyres, but I dropped pressure to 90 PSI. The tyres felt just as hard on the road and to a pinch.
Two weeks later, they had eased to 75 PSI, entirely normal given my use pattern, but still felt equally hard to the touch and nearly as sharp on the road.
At this point the penny started to drop: we're dealing here with a totally different creature from a racy folder. This is an immensely strong tyre for round-the-world forays and huge loading.
Schwalbe say: "The completely new sidewall construction can withstand for much longer the typical cracking resulting from overloading due to insufficient inflation pressure."
If anything that's an understatement.
When the ice came last week, I reduced the front tyre to a nice soft state and surfed around on pack ice and snow, locking up the front tyre repeatedly and generally hooning around. There was no sense of being at advanced risk of a snakebite/ pressure puncture. Back home, I measured the PSI. It was down to 15, yes fifteen, and these tyres were still going fine. This is the closest thing to a runflat bike tyre that I've ever seen. Yet even at this astonishing low level, the hard compound was still evident, making the tyre less predictable on ice than I'd hoped.
In the car world, it was BMW who developed run-flats and years later the Owners Club magazine I receive is stuffed still with letters bemoaning the ride quality and stiffness of these tyres, even in their second and third generation.
The Marathons suffer from the same issues. They are hard, they bang and buck their way across holes and imperfections. The thick, endurance compound doesn't absorb the rough so much as reject it. You bounce and slam. If I descend off a kerb with a loaded pannier, the rear tyre slams down with a great bang and I'm expecting the rims to bow out well ahead of the tyres. 
In some ways this is thoroughly resassuring. You chug around and it is entirely, 100% a 'fit and forget' experience which is why these tyres are fitted to millions of Dutch work horses and German town bikes. You (almost) don't have to bother with a puncture kit. I have not punctured in five months of daily use. I have not checked the tyres once. The sidewalls are currently filthy. Brilliant.
Even the handling and cornering is OK. Not fast but safe. Particularly in the dry.
The only thing I really don't like is the lack of grip in the wet. Schwalbe give it 4/6 for wet grip. That's optimistic. In a straightline, these tyres grip very well, not least because of their own weight. You have to be a real hooligan to get them to lock up, for instance.
But presented with an uneven surface, a mild off-camber, a bevelled edge of a sleeping policeman, or any of the other things that regularly crop up on a London commute, and these tyres do not really inspire much confidence. I'd score them fair to poor in the wet grip department, entirely on account of the hard compound that will endure for thousands of miles. Try them out on wet cobbles and you'll be terrified. There is next to no grip.
Returning to my training bike with Conti 4-seasons, I am struck by what a totally brilliant tyre it is, whatever the nicks and dings. It has a suppleness that belies a race-weight tyre, and tremendous grip despite the near-absence of a tread.
Will I hold onto the Marathons? I have grown fond of them in that chug-around way, but they're not best mates. Come October I will ready my wallet for either the Marathon Supreme, or the Marathon Racer. The Supreme has Schwalbe's excellent Roadstar Triple Compound while the Racer weighs just 325g in 700x30 size. For now, I am looking forward to trying a new summer tyre or returning to the beloved Continentals.

Henry Warwick RIP

Henry was one of London's best couriers and he was killed by a coach last week, near Bishopsgate in the City. There's been a lot of comment. Good articles in the London Evening Standard. I am interested to know the particulars of the incident that led to his death. Bishopsgate is a mess. The contraflows are dangerous. The coach drivers are aggressive.

The memorial ride for Henry is on Feb 10, starting at The Foundry, corner Gt Eastern Street and Old Street, start time 7-ish. The family prefer donations to homeless charities rather than flowers.

My VO2 Max test

Don't know what the figures mean, yet -

Last night I finally fulfilled an ambition that's eluded me for years. I stepped up to the plate and did a VO2 Max test under the excellent supervision of Dr Richard MacKenzie at Westminster University, 115 New Cavendish Street, London.
I was nervous for one central reason, that if the numbers didn't come out very well I'd be crushed.
This is because the VO2 test is the gold standard for telling you if you're any good.
I don't have the full results yet but went in knowing two things. One: that I'd been judged 'fair' on a previous, non-scientific ramp test carried out at a gym on a tread mill. Which I'd ignored of course. But it kinda sucked. Second, that as Cycling Weekly put it a few months ago, the numbers stack up as follows: 1.5-2 watts per kg of (body) mass= recreational cyclist; 2-4 watts/kg = sportive rider; 4-6 = club athlete; 7.5 = Alberto Contador at full chat, with (as we are now told) clenbuterol for some extra lick. So I went into the test with the idea that anything around 3 would be a disaster for my Club Rider aspirations. 4 would be OK. Anything above 4 would be jam. I am conservative about these things.
The actual test is very easy until the point when it's absolutely awful. I brought my own pedals and shoes and normal kit. You want to be as comfortable as possible, as 'normal' as possible. I was weighed (=69kgs/152lbs). Some warming up at a high cadence, lots and lots of minute adjustments to the fit; a bit of stretching. HRM fitted (my Polar wasn't reading well, owing to all the other electronic kit in the vicinity, so we switched it off and used theirs); big, sealed face mask fitted over face. This measures how much oxygen you're getting in. Then easy peasy, you roll away at 100 watts and settle into a normal cadence, for me 90. Instead of abrupt up-steps in resistance, the ramp was very steady, rising 6 watts every 12 seconds. I could see it stretching across a huge screen to my right: the Alpine Col that ascendeth forever. I'd been told that it'd all be over in about 8 minutes, and it was. Once you get to 300 watts you know you're working. After that it ramps and ramps and Dr MacKenzie is shouting encouragement, "Give me one more minute, dig in Richard." At 340 watts I went down onto the drops and put my head down for the endgame. Less than a minute later, my data had all plateaued and my pulse was flicking 196, and we called it a day.
I will receive a full test data report next week, but we know that the watts per kg measure is above 5.
Do I recommend this test? It costs £130, which is alot. That's a wheelset for training purposes. But of all the tests to perform, surely this is the one that counts, and you might only do it once. Training can then improve VO2 Max by a factor of +10%, I am told. There's another test, a threshold test, where they take pinprick blood samples and measure lactic acid. I might look into that but don't have the money for now. I should add: Dr MacKenzie is a fantastic guy and this is a first rate facility, all new feeling and immaculate. Finally - he's inside a real university, which puts the whole enterprise on a higher plane than your local gym. So yes: I recommend it unreservedly.

http://2009.westminster.ac.uk/schools/science/consultancy/fitness/vo2-max-test

View from the cockpit

Is Cycling Safe?

I'm feeling chastened this week. Yesterday I was talking to Cycling Plus editor Rob Spedding, and we agreed that the Times 'Guide to Safe Cycling' from last Saturday sent out a slightly crazy message. Of course their campaign for safer cycling is brilliant. But having read the spread p8-9, readers' stories, it was so littered with fractured skulls and Police inaction that I wondered whether I was due for a nasty crash, having gotten away with it for years crossing London daily and a childhood and teenage years riding almost everywhere with very little parental intervention. As a student I made a big deal of commuting from Northampton to Oxford on the then part-dualised A43, before any cycle lanes appeared. I now think I was lucky to get away with it unscathed.
So is cycling safe or not? I'd just come back to feeling that it was, only to receive a reply from my MP Diane Abbott, also Shadow Public Health Minister, about the Times campaign (I'd written to her asking her views & support). Yes, of course she supports cycling; but: "I do not cycle myself. Largely because aggressive London motorists make me nervous!" I thought to myself: this confirms that Britain is still stuck in the golden age of the motor car, somewhere in the late twentieth-century, if the MP in London's most progressive, most cyclingest Borough, says this, and in an Olympic year to boot.
Later on I also reflected that Diane Abbott could lose a few pounds, and that all MPs operate on a "do as I say, not as I do" basis. She ought to be leading from the front in an Olympic year, but is she?
Two hours after that, I opened my email to find a nice note from a friend who runs a barista equipment business, Jonathan Money of Cream Supplies (any coffee inquiries, he's a mega expert-). He'd been on this site. Then he wrote: "I used to cycle a lot - but saw too many dead and maimed cyclists (2 dead cyclist friends and several maimed) so decided that living in Kabul would be safer than cycling. You are a brave man!"
Blimey!
I thought: this can't get any worse.
Then I read that the cyclist killed in collision with the Terravision airport coach on Bishopsgate last week was none other than Henry Warwick, a legend in his own life and, as the London Evening Standard put it, "one of the most experienced bike couriers in London."
This is a black day for cycling. I can't put it any other way.
Maybe this is also the tipping point for a complete change of public policy.
For now: Henry RIP, I will be riding in your name tomorrow at the vigil.

Hooray for The Times

Not bad. Not bad at all. Part of yesterday's front page; all of today's and the leading leader, a spread, and most of the letters. I'm referring of course to The Times 'Cities Fit for Cycling Campaign.'
In particular, and for the sake of reiteration: "As a point of comparison: since 2001, 576 British soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan and Iraq; 1,275 cyclists died on British streets. The latest data shows there were 1,850 deaths or serious injuries in the first half of 2011, a 12 per cent rise on the year before. Britain leads the world in competitive cycling; it is time that we did the same for the cyclists on our streets." (Feb. 2)
You might expect me to cavil at the details. The oft-repeated need to segregate cyclists from motorists will not be embraced by some cyclists. First of all it won't be achievable in a systematic fashion. Secondly, divider kerbs can cause accidents themselves, especially in the dark. Thirdly, segregation promotes the idea that cyclists should be taken off the roads. Before you know it, the traffic has sped up even more and the idea permeates that we have no legitimacy on the roads.
I have encountered this in other countries. This is the view in large swathes of the USA, and surprisingly, it is the view in Germany to the extent that if there is a bike lane, woe betide if you stumble onto the road. When I did so, when living in Munich a few years ago, I encountered fury from drivers who would be deliberately mean, pulling such antics as spraying their washer fluid while overtaking, in hope of hitting me. Needless to say, however, cycling lanes are superb in Germany - and by golly they're smooth and glass free too, they go somewhere instead of halting with that ridiculous message 'END' as so many British lanes do. And so on and so on. But there is still this ideal, which I would fight for, that says that we can all co-exist peaceably.
I agree with the many letter writers to The Times today who point out the need for some sort of mandatory training for cyclists. My commute is littered with silly riding by silly riders who do not realise why they are silly. In particular, a simply astonishing number of riders without lights.
But the whole subject of lorries and undertaking is frankly scary. One point that is never made, is the fact that although as a responsible cyclist you might vow never to wander up the inside of a moving lorry, it cannot prevent a lorry from converging with the cyclist from behind. As this happens, you are on the lorry's inside whether you like it or not. This happened to me once when travelling south on the A10 in Hackney. The sanctuary of the bus lane ended as a single lane junction hoved into view. A construction lorry that seconds before had been right out of the way, closed to the left and I was uncomfortably on his inside. I made my way to the front (the lights were red so he was stationary), and moved ahead until I could look back up into his cab and get eye contact.
It is not until you sit high in one of these lorry cabs that you realise how little they can see, and that there is a large bind spot even in front of the cab.
Here's one more anecdote from the road, from yesterday, by way of underlining the need for more cyclist awareness by all parties, including cyclists.
I was riding east on the gritty A13, that very same road that passes News International at Wapping, where Times reporter Mary Bowers was crushed. I was at the junction where Commercial Road (A13) turns sharply left into York Road (E14 - under the railway arches by the Limehouse railway station). Because of overtaking a stationary bus, a large refuse lorry was at the junction, stopped at a red light, straddling two lanes. He was not indicating. There was a whole car's width up his inside, but no suggestion that he was leaving room to turn left, because of the bus he'd just overtaken. It would have been easy to have gone up the inside. In fact this would have been safe had I done it quickly, and got right ahead of him. Something told me that there was nothing to profit from this - it's not great to be overtaken again, and again, by the same lorry at every junction. So I hung back and waited. It was still light but I had my front flasher on. It's an Exposure Joystick, one of the brightest LEDs to be had, freshly charged. The driver saw this and just before the lights turned, he remembered to indicate that he was in fact turning left. So I waited and watched. Very tight turn; huge raised kerb and railings on the inside. Certainly no room for a cyclist. I could smell death at this moment. This is how it happens. Even an experienced rider might stray up that apparently generous space, only to be irretrievably trapped. Safety bars and buzzers no good if the driver doesn't indicate.
Let me finish on a related note: it will always be safer to go through a red light in order to be clear of an HGV, in particular if there is no Advanced Stop Line, than to be hovering on the inside. I don't mean 'running the light'. I mean getting out of the blindspot of the HGV. The members of the public who get punctilious about observing the lights don't really know what they're talking about. Perhaps all drivers should be made to ride a bike and vice versa; it would lead to much greater understanding.

World Cyclo-Cross Champs, Koksijde Jan 28-29, 2012

Gianni Vermeersch, Belgium; Men Under 23s

- amazing handling taken for granted

Finally, I made it to the otherwise insignificant seaside town of Koksijde (pronounced Cocks-Ide) in Belgium, to investigate the fabled UCI World Cyclo-Cross Championships before it moves next year to Louisville, Kentucky. I went as a tourist not as a journalist, so I can't comment on the Louisville development except to say that the Americans will need to line up some good Belgian translators. As for Koksijde, it will almost certainly host another round of the UCI series next year so the chance to stand in the freezing sand dunes with a plastic beaker of Jupiler beer is still there.
Do I recommend this pilgrimage? Yes, of course, but for two very different reasons. If you are a cross rider there is lots to be gained from watching the pros, prowling around the pits and mentally comparing what they do with what you do. If you're a tourist, it's a unique slice of Europe comprising some unlikely cultural matching - Holland and Belgium yes; but why is the Czech Republic so prominent in this sport, and how did the Elite Men's race have single Turk riding, called Hakan Yildirim? His story would be of interest.
No point re-hashing race reports which are published on the UCI site - except to say that by watching a race yourself you gain a very different impression from that imparted by the naked results. For me the Mens Under-23s was a highlight because Belgian Wietse Bosmans, an outsider, gave the eventual winner Dutchman Lars van der Haar a huge run for his money and you never knew who was going to be in front on each successive lap. The crowd was braying 'Wiet-se, Wiet-se, Wiet-se,' and up on the dune where we were standing, a spontaneous cheer went up when Haar briefly came off in the deep sand. Had he lost the race in that instance, the exact nature of which remained out of sight for the thick mass of people in front of us? When news came back over the tannoy that he had beaten Wietse in the final sprint, the mood was surly, even angry. The Dutch are not supposed to win in Koksijde.

Three cheers then to Marianne Vos (Holland) for winning her fifth consecutive world title the next day - aged just 24. That's incredible.
Happily for the crowd, the Mens Elite was subsequently taken by Belgian Niels Albert, who led from early on and dominated the race so much that it was far less of a spectacle than the other contests. Also to note: positions one to seven were Belgian, which meant that on the TV coverage no other nation was shown. I watched this race in a bar having left the tickets in the car, miles away from the town on a free shuttle bus. Although this had 'fail' stamped all over it, my uncle and I secretly cherished the warmth on a brutally cold day and got to see the divisive face of Belgian chauvinism, when a small, elderly man thrust several of those ubiquitous yellow Lion of Flanders flags on a couple of female tourists. It's all very cute if you're looking in from the outside, but Belgium hasn't had a proper government for a while and a shaky history to fall back on. So what we actually saw was Flanders agit-prop. So it's Belgium all the way when the Dutch are involved, but meanwhile the Flanders stuff grinds on in open view. Interesting.

Kit notes: tubular rims and file tread tyres are standard fare in the sand, typically the wonderfully feely Dugasts with cotton sidewalls that cost £90 a pop. The rims came from all makes but Zipp 303s remain a standard bearer, alongside Dura-Ace 35s. Tactics notes: Cross-watching is wonderful because it gives you close-ups lots of times. Everyone makes 'unforced errors' because of the nature of the terrain. Kevin Pauwels, seeded number one and wearing red leggings to distinguish himself, pulled himself along a section using the railing. He also stalled in the sand and was forced to dismount. Finally, I noted that riders didn't always hoist their bikes to their shoulder, sometimes wheeling it. This was all provisional stuff made up on the day, proving that often there is no text book. You just have to go with instincts based on experience. These guys were throwing out huge wattages to ride the sand dunes, matched by ethereal handling abilities. Great to watch - recommend video footage on UCI site.