Chapter I:
I've been thinking for a couple of days now about how to tell this story. No clarity has shown itself, so I'm left with the decision to just tell it like it is. The Trans Iowa or TI as it is known among racers and those close to the event, is very special and unlike any race I've ever been a part of. Even as you shuffle through your gear and make the final preparations minutes before the start you can feel that something is just different. There seems to be something in the air, a spirit all it's own; that is TI.
Ironically, I was extremely poised at the start while I consciously thought about how these really were the final steps I would take before I was simply riding. I had played it all out in my mind a thousand times throughout the year, all the details were covered. I'd had plenty of time to think it through while my training partner, Charlie Farrow and I, completed a series of DBD (Death Before Dishonor) rides throughout the winter. We had a plan and it involved viewing ourselves as front runners in Trans Iowa Version Five. I really believe that having Amy, my wife, with me for this year's race was a big part of my unusually calm demeanor. She has a way of letting me know that it's all going to be o.k. and she instills in me a sense of confidence that I may not otherwise have. In other words, she's relaxed, therefore I'm relaxed. It's like she knows something I don't. I guess she believes in me and when you're toeing the line with 320 miles of gravel in front of you that really means a lot. We took a few pictures and had some hugs, then it was to the start line. Oh, one more thing, "be careful", Amy said as we parted. She never forgets that part.
As Charlie and I lined up side by side it was all business. We had rehearsed this plan through and through. We knew how every step would unfold, at least we thought we did. Once underway I thought the pace was surprisingly fast. I did my best to stay near Charlie and toward the front, out of trouble. Soon enough the gravel proved to be loose and sketchy in places. More than one rider had near misses with another as the gravel would take a wheel and grind it into an unplanned direction. As we continued at a quickened pace things began to settle down and the twitchy movements of nervous riders seemed to subside. I began trying to introduce myself to some of the riders I'd heard so much about. Joe Gorilla, Charlie Parsons, Joe Meiser and George Vargas (all the way from California). To my surprise some of these riders already knew me, one even went on to explain that he felt Charlie and I were serious contenders at this year's TI. I found that comment interesting and flattering, but time would tell. I really felt like there were about 7 or 8 guys that this race could go to this year and I had included myself and my partner in that group. Approximately two hours in I took note of the sudden changing conditions of the road. At times the gravel would suddenly change from quarter sized rocks to loose ping pong balls that tossed your bike any direction they wanted, not to mention caused frame jarring hits. It was these hits that I began to worry about, but being trapped in a crowd of riders moving at high speeds does not provide a lot of options for tactical maneuvering. Needless to say at about the 30 mile mark I felt and heard a hit ring through both my wheels, the frame of the bike, and through my bones. Immediately I knew there was a good chance one of, if not both my wheels, were going down. In a state of panic I called out to Charlie as if there was something he could do about it. "Charlie, I think my back wheel is going down", I yelled. "What! NO!", was his response. In an instant he shouted, "YES IT IS, GO GO!" while he violently pointed to the side of the road. I pulled over immediately with a sense of purpose and went to work on the tire. I got sick to my stomach as everyone in the main field rode past me as it felt like the TI was betraying me. My thoughts began to entertain the notion "that all was lost, everything I'd been through over the winter, would I ride the whole of the race alone?" I tried to switch my thinking; "Stay focused, it's a long race, you WILL get back in it" began to reign supreme in my head. I felt I had a fast change and I had a nice hard tire going back into the bike. I was on my way, low on the bars and pushing hard. Once the "dust" settled and I began to calm down I realized that here I was in the super bowl of my bike racing career playing catch up with the main field. How could this have happened? This would be Charlie's race now, not mine, but there was still hope. All I needed to do was regain contact with the main field and surely there would be a strong rider willing to attack with me in an attempt to catch the leaders.
As I approached the first check point 40 miles from the start after riding alone for 10 miles I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw other riders milling about the town square of little Washington, IA. I screamed into the check point like my pants were on fire instantly asking about the main field and the leaders. Sensing my urgency the volunteers worked in concert to get me out of the check point as quickly as possible. It was nice to see a familiar face checking me in as well. A veteran of TI III (Cale) that I shared many miles with was manning the clip board and recording times. He told me that the two riders just rounding the corner on the other side of the square were the back of the main field, "Follow them", he yelled as I rolled out. I was back! I couldn't believe that I had caught them in 10 miles, now I needed to recover. As I hooked back on I noticed the legendary Dave Pramann, repeat winner and record holder for the Arrowhead 135, Minnesota's epic winter race, moving fluidly with the group. I briskly rode to his wheel, knowing that it was he that I needed to be with. Pramann had the killer instinct that I wanted to be a part of. I would not let him out of my sight. Little did I know that I would end up bonded to him for life (more on this later). As luck would have it my group of 10 to 15 riders quickly became confused among the twisting streets of Washington, IA. Soon we were lost. The minutes were slipping away and so were the leaders.
Chapter II:
Reversing direction and returning to a point that coincided with our cue sheets re-oriented the group and we were back on course finally, but the question remained, "how much time had we lost to the leaders?" Nervously, I floated among the group checking the resolve of my competitors and trying to establish a connection with one or two of them that would be willing to launch an attack with me in an effort to get to the front. I had no takers and was even turned down by Pramann who flatly told me that he "wasn't going to make a big push now". My heart sank. I checked in with local strong boy, Jeremy Frye who finished an impressive 3rd place in this year's Ragnarok 105, would he be willing to work with me? I sensed that he was more concerned about the long haul at this point. I would need to settle in, stay calm, and wait for situations to unfold that would play to my grand plan. It wasn't long before we approached the first "B" road (unmaintained access roads used by the farmers primarily to move between fields) and riders were spotted in the distance. Could it be? Were they the first two to "pop off" the lead group. After making contact with one of them I threw down a flurry of questions. It was cycling coach, ultra endurance rider, and veteran of Race Across America George Vargas from California. His report was that he had the leaders in sight up until a few minutes previous, but for him it was about conservation and he was content to let them ride away. However, this recent development seemed to cause a little jump in Pramann's stroke and he began to bring the pace up. I quickly jumped on his wheel in an attempt to inspire the group, but they weren't having it. Dave and I were taking the majority of the pulls while the others were sitting in and looking long term. We tried to explain to the group that if we could just work together we could bridge to the leaders, still no takers, save one. A tall lanky strong man from Lincoln, NE began to take lengthy pulls at the front while Dave and I sat in, allowing him to drag us along while we conserved. Occasionally, we would move to the front to give him a break, but before long he'd be right back up there pulling for us and looking strong. I took a quick glance back to see why no one else would get involved and there it was, a tiny gap, maybe 50 feet. I shouted to Dave, "We're getting a gap!" The pulls were shorter and harder, the gap began to grow, 100 feet, 100 yards, a quarter mile, a half mile... then they were gone!
The effort it took to separate from the main field in order to get the leaders in sight exhausted an enormous toll on me. I had been "on the rivet" for the second time in a short period and both attempts were lengthy. Needless to say I was teetering on the edge of being in serious trouble. As we let off and were pulling into North English, approximately 55 miles from the start, there was talk in my group (Dave Pramaan, Lincoln, NE. and myself) of a quick stop at the general store in town to refit. I agreed with the stop, because honestly at this point any respite from what I had been experiencing for the last 2.5 hours was welcomed. As we rolled closer and crossed the highway I noticed a small congregation near the doorway of the store and there were bikes! I strained my eyes until I saw the familiar jersey. It was Charlie and he was with Joe Meiser, we had caught the leaders! My body released another shot of adrenaline as I came upon them refilling water bottles and getting organized. Charlie's eyes were like saucers when he saw me, "Eki", he yelled, "It's so good to see you!". I inhaled a banana in front of Guitar Ted (race director) and started pleading with Charlie to depart the store immediately. Confused by my arrival, my partner started expressing the need to top of my fluids, I refused, conveying to him that I was good to go and we needed to get moving. I knew this was the break we needed in more ways than one.
Disorientated from being in a red lined state for so long I started to roll out of the parking lot in the wrong direction and was even considering relieving myself in a culvert next to the highway when Charlie yelled to me "Eki, this way". I quickly regrouped and jumped on his wheel. Joe Meiser, Charlie Farrow, Dave Pramaan and Tim Ek were now the break away 4. The intensity ratcheted up as we began to exploit our lead. The three I was with seemed fresh while I toiled at the back, struggling on every climb to hold the wheel in front of me. I was astonished at the ease in which they all seemed to float up the huge rollers that we would deal with for the next several hours. A pattern started to emerge. At the top of every climb I found myself at least 40 - 50 feet off the back of the group and out of the saddle trying to gain the wheel in front of me. How long could I keep this up before I was completely dropped and alone in the wind? I distinctly recall Charlie and Dave aggressively pointing at their back wheels behind their backs ordering me to get there. At times closing a distance of 3 feet seemed nearly impossible as I could not muster any more speed.
We, or I, was riding at my limit and our gap was growing. Slowly the doubt began to creep in as I questioned my membership with this group. I wondered if I had given too much to get to them and not staying "hooked on" would be the high price I paid. Had I mishandled this whole thing? Would I end up riding the majority of the Trans Iowa alone? I knew navigating alone would be a significant problem for me so I was determined to stay with them. Charlie kept encouraging me to ride 4th wheel and to never take a pull as he knew it would destroy me. I tried to remain positive and remind myself that this hurt tank I was in would pass and as soon as I could get some calories on board I'd bounce back.
The problem was getting calories in. I was so busy that I couldn't take the time to eat or I'd lose the group and extended exposure in the wind would ruin me. It was when we hit the next "B" road that it all began to fall apart. I battled dizzy spells and the three strong men began to establish a large gap on me. It happened, I was dropped. I took that opportunity to force down another banana and a few gel packs. I simply could not climb with them. However, like a blessing from above, things began to turn in my favor. I bridged back to them and found respite in an easier pace. They were getting tired. I had done it! They were settling down and slipping into a more manageable rhythm. It was time for me to focus on recovery. I began to eat at every opportunity and forced fluids in. I felt my body turning the corner, I began to take pulls at the front, and more importantly I began to try to show the group that I was still there and wouldn't be going anywhere. I rode very close to them, tried to talk to them, I wanted them to know that I couldn't be broken. The second check point was coming and we would be 151 miles into this monster. The group began discussing big meals and an extended session of reloading our bodies and our supplies. It was the break I needed. I just had to make it to the second check point with the leaders. What an accomplishment that would be!
Wednesday February 24th, 2010 | 3 Comments | Kid Riemer
Last fall, photographer Gregg Bleakney and riding partner/model/videographer G-Mack headed to southeast Asia with a couple of Fargo's. They experienced all the 'different' stuff you can experience when you head off to a foreign land, took some nice photos, and shot some pretty interesting (and fun) video as they went. This video is from the Korea portion of their journey.
By coincidence, I grew up there. When I watch the the attached video, I probably see something different than someone who hasn't lived in Korea. That is a pretty wild concept if you let it sink in.
At the tale end of this video, you'll see a small truck coming down the narrow street spraying clouds of smoke behind it. Well, that stuff is mosquito insecticide. When I was a kid, those trucks would come around and all the kids would run along behind them in the giant cloud of bug spray just for fun. Which just may explain some things about me today...
There are so many grand memories for me of growing up there. Lots of those memories are of things that really aren't even experienced anymore. Honeybucket trucks, skating on frozen rice paddies, seeing noodles drying in the sun, and riding through markets on the handlebar of a motorcycle. Life. Good stuff.
Thanks for the video Gregg and G-Mack. I enjoyed it and I think everyone else will as well. -Kid
Thursday February 18th, 2010 | 29 Comments | Kid Riemer
Welcome to our new website...and more. During the past 12 months or so, we've been taking a good hard look at the Salsa brand. We've revisited the past, checked out the present, and are trying to look toward our future.
This website shows our continued evolution.
We are letting go of parts of the past. Some will slowly fade away, while other changes will be more abrupt and immediately noticeable. But some things won't change at all. We are a different brand than the one that was started way back in 1984. We welcome this step away. We welcome this change.
Our new website is a work in progress. In the days to come you will continue to see it grow. You will see our products in use around the globe. Images will change from time to time, but in those images you will see Adventure by Bike.
A news report a couple months ago spoke of children in school no longer wishing to be astronauts. 'Been there, done that' had reached into the grade school levels and eliminated what was once the dream of many. Why go the moon if someone else already has? Why go to the moon when you can play Rock Band?
I would argue that the moon wasn't really even the dream most astronauts pursued. Instead, I think they were after adventure…adventure of the highest caliber.
But there are all sorts of adventure in this world, and many of them can be experienced on a bicycle. You felt it when you were a child and were first allowed to roam your neighborhood on two wheels. Beyond that first initial burst of freedom...you felt Adventure. Where would you go? What would you find when you got there?
During the past year, many of the Salsa Crew took on some grand, and some not-as-grand, adventures. From Joe riding the Tour Divide Race to Jason hitting a 130-mile chunk of the Kokopelli Trail in a day. From David touring alongside the Gitchi Gummi and up into the Great White North to Tim soloing the 24-Hours of Nine Mile.
And we know you've had adventures as well.
We've seen photos of Salsa bikes maneuvering on glaciers in Iceland, bike packing in Arizona, crossing the high mountain passes of France and Spain, and riding the Dempsey Highway in Alaska. We've seen our bikes ripping it in everything from 100-mile mountain bike races to 300-mile-plus gravel grinders.
Each and every one of those experiences has provided someone with a fine adventure. That's how we think it should be.
We hope you'll open yourself up to the possibilities of Adventure by Bike.
We build bicycle and bicycle parts for your adventure. Every material has its place and we use scandium, aluminum, Cromoly, carbon and titanium to craft some of the finest products available. Here is our titanium story.
For many, titanium is the ultimate frame material for bicycles. Titanium is light, durable, and corrosion resistant. Titanium also has a couple of ‘magical’ qualities that are hard to quantify. Ti has a classic kind of beauty with an unparalleled terrain-smoothing ride quality. For Salsa, titanium represents not only a great frame material, but also a new direction that is a real expression of our staff and our Salsa brand.
If you’ve followed our Salsa story over the last several years, you have likely watched us make some fairly large commitments to steel, scandium and carbon. In all honesty it’s gone pretty well and we’ve built successful products around each of those materials and properties. So….why add titanium to the list? It’s a good question and one that should be asked.
In simple terms, titanium offers unique characteristics that other materials just can’t match. Some might argue that steel can offer many of the titanium qualities at a cheaper price. Others might argue that carbon can be lighter or provide specific performance qualities. Others might say that scandium or aluminum are lighter and provide a similar ride and material properties. All these statements are arguably true, but come with some sort of asterisk by the answer.
Steel is pretty much the perfect material for a bicycle. It’s affordable, workable and readily available. But, it corrodes and is heavier than titanium. Steel can be built to competing weight with titanium, but when doing so the frames and bikes become at least as expensive and just a bit less durable. Carbon offers some amazing things too. It’s highly customizable and tunable. It’s also wildly labor and tooling intensive and often times quite expensive. Scandium offer so much in terms of material properties, workability and price, but to date we have not been able to match the overall performance, durability and ride quality of titanium.
Even in the old days, Salsa dabbled with titanium. Merlin crafted a handful of titanium Ala Carte’s, some of which are still being ridden today. Sometimes good ideas come back around. This time around, we’ve taken 3 of our most loved products, the Ala Carte, the El Mariachi, and the La Cruz and added titanium to our special Salsa recipe.
These 3 models are staples in our line up and just the beginning of our titanium story. All 3 have proven Salsa geometry, providing comfort that you recognize at the end of any day on the road or trail. Some might call these our Salsa work horses. They get it done, time and time again, day after day. Titanium just makes them lighter, more responsive and more comfortable. They are sweet on the eyes too! All these things add up to bikes that span categories and could last you lifetime. We think Salsa plus titanium is the perfect combination.
Monday February 15th, 2010 | 8 Comments | Kid Riemer
We're pleased to introduce Matt Gersib as a Salsa sponsored rider for 2010.
Matt hails from Lincoln, Nebraska and is pretty darn passionate about bicycles. He's also got some mad skills on the bike to match up with that passion. You'll get a chance to hear from him from time to time on our blog, but he also maintains his own: The Dirtblog
Matt had already put together an impressive collection of Salsa's before this sponsorship was put together so he'll have an impressive arsenal to choose from this season. With that, here's a bit more about Matt.
Tell us a bit about yourself, Matt.
I guess if I was going to define myself in three words, I'd say that 'I like dirt.' My beautiful wife Laura and I live in Lincoln, Nebraska with our two pets (a beautiful Shar Pei/Lab mutt named Amy and a big, red longhair cat named Lucky that I found on a ride in 2004). I guess you could say I have a 'normal job' too, if you call working as the public relations manager at an advertising agency 'normal.' 2010 will be my 20th consecutive season racing a mountain bike. When I started racing, I wasn't even 20 years old! And when we moved back from Boulder at the end of 2000, I was actually thinking about 'retiring' from racing at the tender age of 28. My wife still occasionally asks me how I'm doing on my retirement.
What keeps bringing you back to the start line?
I love adventure and long, hard bike rides and I'm fortunate to have a great group of friends who are similarly inclined. The rising popularity of gravel grinders has definitely helped keep my head in the game during the past four or five years. Since we don't have a ton of singletrack that stretches on for vast distances, our gravel roads are the hot ticket. That's why I'm so fired up for the new Salsa Vaya. That bike is perfect for the type of riding a lot of riders around here do day-in and day-out.
What do you have on tap for 2010?
Similar to the past couple of seasons, I'll split my time between endurance mountain bike and gravel grinder events, mostly based in the Midwest. Some key gravel events I'll be focusing on include TransIowa v.6 in late-April, the Dirty Kanza 200-mile gravel grinder in May, and the Gravel Worlds/Good Life Gravel Adventure here in Lincoln on August 21. I'll once again be going after the Enduro crown in Nebraska's Psycowpath series, and hopefully I'll be able to ascend to the top step of the podium this season. I'd also really like to try my hand at the Chequamegon 40 this year. I haven't ever toed the line at the 40, but love the riding up there.
Do you have any thoughts for a rider that wants to get out and try racing, perhaps for the first time?
It's funny you ask, because I was just talking about this last night to a friend who wants to get out and give racing a try, and my advice is very simple – just do it! Racing bicycles is a fun, unique, and yes, at times gut wrenchingly hard experience, but the satisfaction you get from a race well-ridden is one of the things in life that is truly priceless. I have experienced the highest highs as well as the lowest lows imaginable, both due to the events and circumstances at bicycle races. It's these experiences that make me who I am today - a stronger, more persistent, more compassionate and overall better person than I would have been without bicycles or bicycle racing. That's why I'm an advocate for bicycle racing. A little pain is good for the soul.
Friday February 12th, 2010 | 3 Comments | Kid Riemer
My suspicion is that some of you read that title and groaned. The Olympics! Here, on the Salsa Amigos blog! Can't I escape from it anywhere! Groan, moan, groan some more!!! Others read it and look forward to watching the Winter Games. Perhaps some of you even feel a twinge of excitement.
The Olympics have in many ways become another of the love it or hate it things in this world. Much like the Superbowl perhaps, except that the Olympics goes on much longer. I think perhaps it is partly due to the increased cynicism in our society today. And partly due to the fact that many people are just not willing to accept something and enjoy it.
Now for me...well I guess I love it.
In 1988, the Summer Games were held in Korea. I happen to have grown up there (my parents were Lutheran missionaries there) and I graduated from college that same summer. I wound up working the games for NBC. Actually, I worked for them for 3 months leading up to the games, and then one month after the games as well.
The crew I worked with put in all the audio and video cables for the television coverage at each venue. We had passes that allowed us to get in to the venues during the Games.
That opening ceremony in '88 was a highlight for me. I stood and watched and had to fight back the tears actually because I was so proud of Korea. So proud of that opening ceremony. It celebrated their culture, their history, and their people. It was an incredibly emotional experience for me.
So when the opening ceremony for the Vancouver Winter Olympics takes place tonight, I'll be watching. I'm hoping to see Canadians take pride in their country and display it for the world to see.
Then, during the next couple weeks, I'll watch great athletes compete on a worldwide stage. Some of those athletes are living large all year long. Others are truly just regular folks who are the best at their somewhat freaky, oddball sport. That is the beauty of it in a nutshell for me.
I'll take the good and the bad of this Winter Games and take it for what it's worth: a chance to see some of the world's best athletes put on one hell of a show. Money, sponsorship, corruption, and green-ness be damned. Let me see the best compete in the sport that they love.
Today we introduce you all to the new La Cruz titanium cyclocross bike. Another product introduction? Yep, we've been busy up here in our snowy paradise. So, grab a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and read on.
Cyclocross bikes are the original adventure seekers. Capable of killing it on the cross course, the versatile La Cruz Ti grinds gravel, tramples dirt, tackles mud and rolls over potholed pavement. The steel La Cruz has always been near and dear to our heart and with titanium, it's even better. We took our proven La Cruz geometry and tweaked it ever so slightly to optimize the material. The end result is true cross bike that can take a lifetime of pounding without pounding your body.
Details:
- $1800 MSRP for frame and seat clamp - 42 mm tire clearance - 130mm rear spacing - canti brakes - designed for cross forks with 395mm axle to crown with a 45-47mm rake
Geometry: We took our proven La Cruz geometry and added a few additional sizes to match our cross racing bike, the Chili Con Crosso. This geometry will be live on our new website in about another week or so, so until then, here are a few of the more important details.
SIZE & STANDOVER: The frame size matches the effective top tube length. (Note: This is our new sizing scheme based on top tube length. If you already own a La Cruz or Chili Con Crosso, please match your effective top tube lengths when ordering.)
Our first order deadline from our dealers is due back to Salsa March 1st. This will guarantee a mid year delivery to our dealers and insure you have lots of miles going into the 2010 cross season. We recommend you take a look at our dealer list and call one of them. They have the correct information and can work with you to get you your dream Salsa cross bike for the coming season.
Over the course of the week, we will post up more details on the La Cruz Ti and the development process. Stay tuned!
Wednesday February 3rd, 2010 | 5 Comments | Kid Riemer
Vaya Framesets and Complete Bikes are close to becoming available. Our new website is two weeks away so we are providing this information now to help those considering the Vaya. Hope this helps. -Kid
50 & 52cm sizes use 26" wheels (Geometry is shown using a 654mm diameter tire)
54,55,56,57,58,60cm sizes use 700c wheels (Geometry is shown using a 709mm diameter tire)
Wednesday February 3rd, 2010 | 12 Comments | Kid Riemer
As we've got a new website being built for launch in two weeks, we won't have the Vaya on our regular site pages until then. But frames and bikes are soon to become available so we want to get some of the details out to folks that might be interested in them. -Kid
Below you'll find the specs for the Vaya complete bike.
Today's post comes from Tim Krueger, Salsa product manager. -Kid
A double on the Vaya? What the $#&@?
It has been asked what we were thinking when we decided to use a double crankset as a spec on a bike intended for recreational riding and touring.
To put it simply, we were thinking! Double cranksets and modern drivetrains have come a long way since the triple was the standard for those pursuits.
Triple front cranks were intended to create a larger gear range when cassettes (or freewheels!) could only reasonably have a range of 12-28 without large jumps in ratios, or making for poor shifting. Over time, technology and engineering have allowed more gears to be placed in the same space, allowing smoother shifting over a greater range of gears. As this technology plods forward, we will eventually see less of a need for additional front chainrings.
For example, the triple used to be the standard for mountain bikes. Now we are seeing compact doubles take their place on high-end mountain bikes with the advent of SRAM XX and FSA 386 technology, when paired with large range cassettes such as SRAM's 11-36 XX cassette. These drivetrains still yield an equivalent range to a standard triple drivetrain, yet are lighter and simpler.
This is the idea with the Vaya. We took a close look at the overall ratios involved with a road-based triple drivetrain. Take our Casseroll Triple for example. With a 30-39-50 front combination, and a 12-25 rear, it has a low gear inch measurement of 32.4. For those unfamiliar with this measurement, it means that in this lowest gear, the bike will travel 32.4 inches forward with every revolution of the pedals.
On the Vaya, this measurement in the lowest gear is 29.0 inches. So while on the surface, the Vaya's double appears to have less of a climbing gear than a road triple, in practice, it actually has a slightly lower gear than a standard road triple drivetrain. Even the traditional road triple with a 12-27 on the back still only has a 30.4 inch low gear.
Now, one could argue that even though this is true, the Vaya is still not as low as a touring setup such as a Sugino XD600 crankset paired with an 11-34 rear cassette, which yields a 20.9 inch low gear. And to that, you would be correct. However, we didn't design the Vaya to be a bike solely for touring. We designed the Vaya to be more of an 'all around' bike, one good for a variety of purposes. The Vaya is our road adventure bike. If you truly want that low of gearing, consider basing your build on a Vaya frameset and choose the gearing that you prefer, or start with a Vaya complete bike and change out your crankset.
Keep your eyes open, because in the near future you will begin to see a trend in cycling towards double cranksets. Because the Vaya may be among the first, but definitely not the last to be sporting the 34-50 and 11-32 combo to give the recreational cyclist the greatest all-around experience.
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