A Fitting Test

Having had a first-rate experience with the staff at Ridley’s Cycle in my pursuit of a Ridley X-Fire, I was anxious to get back to them and get sized up.  So anxious in fact that I showed up in my jeans and steel-toed shoes.  Not exactly the ideal footwear for the sizing but Ridley Cycles owner Ron Uhlenberg rectified things by finding suitable shoes for me to borrow.

The fitting made one thing perfectly clear – bicycle sizes are some combination of dark secrets, marketing and perhaps tradition.  They are not transferable nor comparable.  They only possible way one could purchase an unfamiliar bike via the internet or any other not-in-person experience would be to take advantage of the appropriate dealer and use them to figure out the size, otherwise the fit is almost a complete gamble.  I’m quite comfortable on my XL-sized Rescue Bike, but only a 54 in the X-Fire line while Adam who is slightly shorter than I is a 54 in the Stevens, which is too small for me.  Worse than sizing pants.

It didn’t take long for Ron to determine the correct size and a reasonable on-the-fly fit.  I left them a deposit – which they accepted – and we made a date for a proper test ride a few days out.

Test ride day.  I’m nervous and excited.  I haven’t ridden an all-carbon or even a carbon fork bike before.  I haven’t ridden drop handlebars since I was 10 or 11, borrowing my neighbour’s much-to-large 10-speed.  Apart from its inappropriate size and it’s orange colour, I recall being handily beaten by my father on his three-speed commuter bike.  I don’t know how to use the indexed shift levers on the X-Fire I’m about to ride.  Will I fall off it in an uncoordinated disarray of clipless pedals, foreign riding position, alien controls and unfamiliar territory?  Am I going to embarrass myself such that the staff at Ridley’s snicker about me, remember that guy, long after I’ve slunk away in shame?

I rode the Rescue Bike down into Kensington, more aware of the tight-fitting jersey around my mid-section than I wanted.  If nothing else, standing around a bike shop clad in paper-thin, skin-tight (and immodest) clothing is socially tolerable and the one place you don’t feel completely in the eyes.  Ridley’s was humming with activity, the weekend crowds browsing through the large selection of bikes and accessories, staff trying to make sure everyone was being looked after.  This meant standing around all sweaty amongst a sea of casually clothed couples and much fitter lycra-clad triathlon types, none of whom were perspiring on the floor.  As luck would have it, Ron appeared within a couple of minutes and didn’t bat an eye at my dubious appearance, instead grabbing the X-Fire and making sure it was ready to go.

I wheeled in the Rescue Bike so they could pull its Crank Brother’s pedals to install as my fancy shoes wouldn’t work with their standard range of pedal offerings.  One of his mechanics noticed my pedals and offered up a set he’d been given, rather than R&Ring the ones from the Rescue Bike.  Bonus!  Within moments the bike was ready and I was heading out the back door of the shop for my ride.

I had no choice but to admit to Ron that I had no idea how to operate the gear selectors, adding to my general feeling of trepidation.  He responded as if my question were the most natural in the world, explained their function and sent me on my way.  He managed to do this while displaying a confidence in me that I didn’t feel.  I headed towards the 19th street hill to test the gearing.  Well…really, to test myself – am I capable of making the 6-block, 7% grade without horking up a lung or resorting to pushing?  I’ve been hauling my Clydesdale self around with the knowledge that salvation was at hand in the form of the triple crank and it’s granny Clydesdale ring.  The standard configuration for the new bike is a double – no bull-low gear for slogging up steep hills – and the rear cassette size is limited by the derailleur capacity.  With the Road to Tibet as my season-end goal, the ability to get up and over those 5 hills is heavy on my mind.

The 105 group shifted nicely and the close spacing of the rear cassette was a nice experience having ridden only my widely spaced 32-11 in recent memory.  The bike proved to be very responsive to pedal input which I attribute to the larger diameter tires (and their increased willingness to rotate).  It was the first time I’d tackled the hill and I found myself boggled pondering the performance of the Grand Tour riders where a 7% grade barely ranks despite going on for miles, not blocks.  No lying – it was a full effort to make the climb without getting off for a push but I made it to the top with both lungs still inside my chest cavity.

Traffic along 14th Ave was busier than I would have liked but the X-Fire accelerated rapidly and settled into a rewarding cruising speed despite the hill we’d just climbed.  A dodge and weave through the SAIT/ACAD grounds and out to Tenth street where I managed to spin it into high gear.  The short descent was swift and stable, the bike quickly proving comfortable despite my novice skills.  I navigated back to Ridley and with much reluctance, gave them back their bike.  Ron chatted with me about the bike, my comfort level, the gearing, the setup.  He proved eager to examine different build options while ensuring I was aware of the cost implications.  I was still (and am still) on the fence about the gearing but it’s reassuring to have Ron and his operation willing to work with me to make sure it’s right.

The rim brakes?  Scared the crap out of me.  I’m sure that the very best rim brakes are much better than the standard offerings on a stock bike, but I’ll bet the most basic of disc brakes from Shimano outperforms them with ease.  The first words that pop into my mind when I think of rim brakes?  Vague, ineffectual, quaint, traditional.  Terrifying.

The real test of course would be to ride the Rescue Bike along the same path and compare the results.  The thought of going back up 19th wasn’t enthralling admittedly, but the masochist in me thought it might be fun.  It wasn’t, but it wasn’t the end of the world either.  I was slower on my way to 19th, but climbed it slightly faster having the benefit of a lower gear and greater familiarity with the bike.  It was still enough work that the thought of completing the entire test-ride loop back down Tenth, only to have to climb back up Tenth (or 19th…again)  to go home overwhelmed even the masochist.  I cut it short and headed for home.  I had no doubts about the choice I’d made.  I still liked (like) the Rescue Bike, but now I know what I’m missing.

For the first time ever, mid-September can’t come soon enough.