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MILAN (VN) — Australian Jack Bobridge’s hour record attempt could come at the right time as he switches gears from WorldTour team Belkin to third-division team, Budget Forklifts, based in his home country, for 2015.
On Wednesday, Bobridge announced he would ride the hour, shortly before fellow Australian, Rohan Dennis of BMC Racing, indicated his intentions as well.
“I had discussions with Jack [Bobridge] about that transition a few months ago. He had no choice but to see it as an opportunity, and I believe that he does,” Orica-GreenEdge general manager and former Cycling Australia head coach, Shayne Bannan told VeloNews.
“He’s a guy who likes to set goals; he’ll be resetting and refocusing and use that hour record as a goal.”
Bobridge’s new Budget Forklifts team announced that he would attempt to break the hour record in 2015. It added that it would reveal more details at a press conference Thursday, but a likely date could come as early as January.
Bannan worked with Bobridge, 25, both on and off the track, first as head coach for Cycling Australia and then as manager of Orica-GreenEdge. Bobridge won the under-23 time trial world title in 2010 before transferring to a road career with teams Garmin, Orica, and Belkin. However, he enjoyed more success on the track.
He won the individual pursuit in the 2011 worlds and the 2010 and 2014 Commonwealth Games. In 2011, he recorded the fastest-ever pursuit time, going four minutes, 10.53 seconds.
In the team pursuit, he helped Australia take gold in the 2014 Commonwealth Games and the 2011 worlds, and silver in the 2012 London Olympics.
His plan to race for a team pursuit gold at the 2016 Rio Games was one reason Bobridge returned home and signed for a third-division team. With Budget Forklifts, he will be able to tailor his program to be ready for 2016.
“The hour record is a good goal for him. It would have been a disappointment not to be in the WorldTour, but he now has a big focus with the 2016 Rio Olympic Games, especially in team pursuit, and a new goal along the way,” added Bannan.
“The hour record fits into his mindset. Also, being world record holder in individual pursuit and a good time trialist, it’s good for him.”
Bobridge could be one of the first time trial and track specialists to have a go and could post a mark well above 51km, perhaps near 54 kilometers.
Brit Alex Dowsett (Movistar), according to Cycling Weekly, could attempt the record on February 27 in London along with Sarah Storey, who confirmed her plans Tuesday. His Spanish team called a press conference for Friday in London, where it may announce the date.
Austrian Matthias Brändle (IAM Cycling) set the hour record at 51.852 kilometers on October 30.
Brändle and German Jens Voigt (Trek Factory Racing) are the only two to have a crack at the mark since the UCI loosened its rules. Voigt rode to 51.11 kilometers on September 18 to mark his retirement.
A UCI rule change May 15 opened the velodromes for riders to attempt the mark on pursuit bikes. In doing so, the UCI struck down its 2000 rule requiring a traditional bike and the Eddy Merckx position.
Bradley Wiggins, Great Britain’s first Tour de France winner and multiple Olympic gold medallist, plans to attempt the hour record in June or July and also prepare for the team pursuit at Rio 2016.
Bannan said, “Once the big boys start to come out, and I put Jack in that category, it’ll be fun to see what marks they set.”
- by Philip Beckman/PB Creative Despite a late-week pummelling from a hand-wringing Pacific storm that spawned drama throughout California (and caused at least one CX event ... The post SoCalCross Championships Decided At Santa Cross 2014, Moak and Pacheco Take Series Win appeared first on Cyclocross...
...view the full story & post your comments at our site: http://cxmagazine.com
A few weeks after we returned to San Francisco from the race in Crested Butte, Gary Fisher called me up and asked me to come over to his cottage in Fairfax. He told me that Tom Ritchey had made some more frames like the one he was riding, and he wanted to show them to me. When I got there, Gary opened the trunk of his battered BMW and showed me the frames. There were nine of them nestled in there and they were as beautifully made as my Colnago. Gary explained that Tom had become very interested in this new kind of bike and had made a few more.
Although there was an avid crew of off-road riders down in Tom’s area near Palo Alto, led by legendary local Jobst Brandt, they hit their trails either on road bikes or similarly set-up rugged bikes equipped with 650B tires and drop handlebars. Tom hadn’t been able to sell any of the new style of flat-handlebar, big-tire bikes to anyone in his area. Since he knew Gary had access to riders who wanted bikes like Gary’s, he had offered them to Gary on spec to see whether Gary could help get rid of them.
Nine bikes was a lot of bikes, and Tom wanted about $400 apiece for them if Gary was able to sell them. These frames were not at all cheap and they only represented a starting point to a bike. As we looked at the booty, Gary asked a simple question with lifelong consequences. “Do you want to help me sell these frames?”
It was too easy to say yes and I did. We did the minimum amount of company organization that was possible, and then we were in business. We counted the cash that the two of us had on our persons at that moment, about $200. We took that money to the nearest bank and we opened a joint business account.
We had a company name that we wanted to use. The term “mountain bike” had recently entered our personal lexicon. The bikes had been “clunkers” until Joe Breeze had taken them out of that category with his beautiful nickel-plated frames. Now there were several versions of custom off-road bikes: Joe’s, Tom’s, the Lawwill-Knight ProCruiser (from a Koski design), and Jeffrey Richman’s, all similar in quality to our road bikes. They could hardly be called “clunkers,” but they didn’t yet have a general name. When I took up cycling the road bike had been just “the bike” because there was only one kind. Then I had owned a “clunker” as well. Now when we had to differentiate in conversations about which we were riding of the two beautiful bikes we owned, we spoke of our “road bikes” or our “mountain bikes.” “Mountain Bike” seemed like a great name for our company. Just to make it clear that it was a brand name and not just a general term, we made it one word and used a cute spelling, MountainBikes.
Gary and I went to Palo Alto so I could meet Tom. He had been at my January race, and appears in photos standing behind me while I was interviewed by the TV crew, but if we had had a conversation back then I didn’t remember it. He was working in the machine shop in his garage when Gary introduced me, and the three of us talked in the most general terms about what needed to happen to get rid of the bikes. Tom made frames. He would deliver them to us already painted, with the new “Bullmoose” one-piece bar and stem. Gary and I would get the parts, assemble the bikes, find the customers, and pay Tom for the frames. What could be simpler?
While the discussion was going on, Tom turned out a couple of small bike parts on his lathe without appearing to measure anything, then fitted them right into place.
Pete Barrett designed a business card for us, depicting the rear wheel of a fat-tire bike on top of a snow-capped peak. We needed to be able to get mail, so we rented a post office box. A business card, a checking account and a post office box address do not add up to a company, and $200 wasn’t even enough to equip one of the bikes. Yet we were indisputably in the mountain bike business.
Gary and I stashed the frames at his house and went about the business of getting rid of them. On the plus side, we had nine frames and $200. On the negative side, we had nothing except those things, including a business location. We didn’t have any place for a phone to ring except our houses, and any of three people answered at mine, so we used Gary’s phone number.
We needed customers who would pay us in advance for the bike, which we determined would cost about $1200. We would take that money to the bike shop and buy the parts we needed over the counter. We assembled the first few bikes at the house I shared with Pete Barrett and Kent Bostick on San Anselmo Avenue. Gary used his Hasselblad camera to take photos of one of our first completed bikes in the room where most families ate dinner but where we assembled bikes.
At the time, you could buy a Tour de France racing bike for less money than we wanted for a bike with $3 tires. We really needed to charge even more, but we had already pushed the ceiling as hard as possible. It took a lot of faith to spend that kind of money on two guys with zero track record. Besides, look at them. Because his hippie appearance was a hindrance for working in Europe with the bike team coached by Mike Neel, Gary had recently chopped off the two feet of hair he sported when I met him. I had no need for that kind of grooming, and I left mine long. I adopted the Fu Manchu mustache look, along with Gary, Joe Breeze and Tom Ritchey. To this day Tom has sported the same hirsute look. Few who looked at Gary and me would have mistaken us for solid citizens.
Nevertheless, we managed to find a few customers. My uncle, an engineer who worked on oil drilling sites all over the world, ponied up for a bike and waited a few weeks for it, as did a local firefighter who worked with Otis. We weren’t making any money, but we were putting bikes under people and starting to find ways of drawing attention to the bikes and ourselves. I didn’t even have a Ritchey myself when I started selling them, and it would be well into the next year before I had one of my own.
We took photos of the type of bike we were selling with Gary’s camera. We had one bike to use for the photos, Gary’s, and one camera, also Gary’s. I could ride a bike, but I had never used that kind of camera, so I served as the model on Gary’s bike while he took the photos. For my star turn, I wore ordinary Levis and a yellow T-shirt that Bob Burrowes had printed up. On the front was a photograph of him in action on Repack and the logo “Marin County Klunkers.” On the back it read, “I’d rather be klunking.”
When Thanksgiving rolled around, I had Pete draw up another poster for the Appetite Seminar, and the turnout was a couple of dozen riders, including a San Francisco bicyclist named Darryl Skrabak riding a Jack Taylor cyclocross bike.
Darryl now and then contributed to a local free tabloid called City Sports. If Darryl hadn’t been there and written about it I might have forgotten that ride by now. It started raining during the ride, the mud peeling up off the road in sheets on our tires. The inclement conditions and the mud-clogged machinery turned the ride into a desperate forced march by hypothermic riders. As the leader, I was responsible, so I herded the miserable crew around the loop and then went home, warmed up, and tried to forget the day.
Darryl found the adventure charming in retrospect, and wrote a paean to the ride that he entitled, “Working Up an Appetite.” The City Sports editor at first derided Darryl’s story and planned to spike it, until the advertising department mentioned that they had already sold ads to bike shops based on the expectation that it would run. It appeared in the December 1979/January 1980 issue of City Sports. It starts with this:
“There are events that become adventures, and adventures that become ordeals, and ordeals in which things go from bad to worse, and the worse things become, the better they are.
“It was that way at the Appetite Seminar held Thanksgiving Day in the Marin hills. This unheralded event was plain awful. It was the worst Seminar ever, and it was the Fifth Annual. It will fuel Marin bench racing for months. The miseries visited upon the participants will be dwelt upon at length, and recounted repeatedly, and expanded into tales, and thence into legend. It will be recalled as one of the great ones.
“Because it was the worst.”
Darryl took a photograph of Gary on his Ritchey bike and captioned it as “… Gary Fisher on his super low-geared klunker.” This was the first photograph to hit print of the Ritchey bike. Farther down in the piece, Darryl used our company name for the first time in print. “Ritchey is now party to a fledgling Kelly and Fisher concern known as MountainBikes, which markets Ritchey’s frames and other klunker equipment.”
That fall we received a visit from Bob Hadley, editor of Bicycle Motocross Action. We had nothing remotely to do with BMX and did not count it among our influences. It was most likely Mert Lawwill’s involvement in framebuilding for the Koskis that got Hadley’s attention, since Mert was a national hero and icon for motorcyclists even in retirement. Mert had been a national champion motorcycle racer, and had a starring role in a documentary film with Steve McQueen, “On Any Sunday.” By this time, Mert and the Koskis had separated and each was producing bikes independent of the other. The Koskis called their new design Trailmaster, and Mert continued producing the original Koski design as the ProCruiser.
The BMX magazine wanted action shots, and Joe gave them one with a motor-drive photo sequence of a sideways pitch. The price of the bikes stunned Hadley; his eventual article was entitled, “Loaded for Bear and Ungodly Expensive: Full Bore Cruisers.”
Despite his thin credentials in mountain biking, Mert got most of Hadley’s attention for his Koski-designed ProCruiser. Mert claimed sales of his first 75 bikes for about $500, with the next 100 on their way. After that Hadley mentioned us. “The only other people who are producing pure klunkers are Joe Breeze and Tom Ritchey. Each has built around ten bikes. The Breezer and the Ritchey sell for an incredible $1200 … which gives you an idea of the quality of the workmanship and components that are put into these bikes.”
What to call them?
“We asked Mert, Joe Breeze, Gary Fisher, Charles Kelly and the owners of the Cove Bike Shop in Tiburon — the people at the heart of this brand new pastime — what they thought these bikes should be called.
“Of all the names that have been applied at various times for these bikes – Klunkers, Ballooners, Bombers, Downhillers, Mountain Bikes, Trail Bikes, Tankers, Cruisers, Cow Trailers, the consensus of opinion is that they should be called Mountain Bikes. And when you think about it, that name fits like a glove.”
BMX was being marketed to parents as a “safe” sport for kids, and those kids were the target audience for the magazine. Our lack of helmets called for a scolding in the article. A photograph of Mert sliding a ProCruiser sideways is captioned: “Mert Lawwill, still hookin’ it on, even without his Harley. But no helmet. Tsk, tsk, tsk, Mert.”
A writer named Dean Bradley who worked for BMX Plus!, the other major BMX publication, was the next to notice us, and in the February 1980 issue he reviewed what he called the “Richey [sic] Mountain Bike.” Bradley led off the article with a remarkable prediction. “This month’s 26-inch test bike is called a Mountain Bike. Chances are that you’ve never heard of it before, but believe me, you will be hearing a lot about this revolutionary bike in the future.” The rest of the article went on in the same vein. Dean Bradley loved the bikes, and gushed over them in the article. He would become a good friend after the article appeared.
In keeping with bicycle magazine tradition, the BMX Plus! advertising department leaned on us to take out an ad, since Dean was giving us a lot of positive publicity in the article. This was our first print advertising, and we didn’t have anything prepared. We didn’t have Pete’s graphics as a separate piece of art, so we sent the magazine’s art department a business card and told them what we wanted the ad to say:
The Trail Blazers
26 x 2.126 18 Speeds 28 lb.
Custom Framesets — Bikes
Conversion Kits for Beach
Bike to Mountain Cruiser
Write or Call
For FREE Catalog
P.O. Box 405
Fairfax, CA 94950
Really? A free catalog?