The big stars of cycling: the race
winners stand on the podium on the inevitable three steps, waving to
the crowds, kissing podium girls, throwing bouquets around and
spraying innocent bystanders with champagne. But the riders on the
podium are only the most visible evidence of a pro team and now a
book has come out that shines a bit of light on those that never end
up mentioned, unless a chain breaks at a bad moment: the mechanics.
Guy Andrews' and Rohan Dubash's new
book, “Bike Mechanic: Tales from the Road and the Workshop” is a
welcome addition to the cycling library if only because it offers an
unusual point of view. Well, it is also praiseworthy for the really
good photographs, most effective in classic black-and-white, by Taz
Darling. There are masses of books about celebrity racers and an
impressive number that deal with famous bicycle brands or artisanal
builders but nobody has had much to say about bicycle mechanics
before. This book goes some way to addressing this gap but it might
be better to consider it as a book about the management of the
mechanical aspect of cycling. The structure of the book is unusual,
with the opening section, “On the Road,” dealing with pro racing
while the second section (“Hardware”) and the last (“the Bike”)
move away from this to a nuts-and-bolts discussion (literally) of
bicycle maintenance.
The first section, which makes up less
than one-third of the book, includes excellent race photos as well as
short accounts of life as a pro race mechanic. This is enjoyable and
illuminating. We know that the racer gets the credit when the race
is won but when the race is lost through a technical failure the
opprobrium attaches to the previously-ignored mechanic. The book
mentions two specific cases, both involving chains: David Millar's
coming apart as he was about to commence what should have been a
stage-winning sprint at the Vuelta; the 2010 Tour de France when Andy
Schleck's jammed at a critical moment.
We learn that in the Good Old Days
racers usually had only one bicycle and mechanics were freelancers
who showed up at races. Today's mechanics are faced with pro teams
that have upwards of 200 bicycles plus masses of spares to account
for. Each racing bicycle is built to the idiosyncrasies of picky
pros and the mechanics need to stay abreast of this. Then during the
race itself the mechanics are either moving the big truck to the next
stage location or sitting in a team car, preparing to leap out for a
quick wheel change or on-the-fly adjustment. When the racing is done
each day and the riders off for their massages, the mechanics are
busy washing, lubricating and adjusting the thoroughbred machines in
time for it all to be repeated the next day during a typical stage
race.
The authors have included interesting
snippets of interview with mechanics, some background on the arrival
of Shimano components on the European pro racing scene, an
examination of a typical UCI World Tour team service course (in this
case the Omega-Pharma-Quick-Step one)--laconically described as the
“team garage;” a vivid description of riding along with the
neutral support mechanics of Mavic and Vittoria. There is an account
of the huge team trucks and their valuable contents and a chapter on
bike washing. For those who have not seen pro race mechanics in
action after a race it is worth staying around for the show. This
writer recalls seeing the mechanics at the HEW Cyclassics race in
Hamburg hosing down expensive racing bicycles at top speed and
stacking them in team station wagons as if they were firewood.
The second section of the book moves us
into the esoteric world of the bicycle workshop, with its range of
specific-purpose tools. The photographs are the highlight of this
section and even those with no mechanical aptitude will feel
motivated to at least consider doing some work if one could only get
one's hands on these beautiful items. Even tools that most of us
will never use (head tube facing tools, anyone?) look irresistible
here.
The last section of the book covers the
complete bicycle and provides advice on how to maintain your
mechanical steed in the same way that pros do. There are
explanations and suggestions for everything from tire installation to
cleaning in a clearly-written and well-illustrated fashion. However,
this book is not to be confused with manuals with exploded assembly
diagrams (thinking of Leonard Zinn's here) and for really specific instructions
you need to go elsewhere.
So the book is a bit of this and a bit
of that—and I would have loved more “Tales from the Road”--
rather than a comprehensive look at the experiences of bike mechanics
or a how-two book for those aspiring to be one. But the modest goal
set by the author is easily reached:
So this book is
a collection of stories with some tips and hints that we thought be
useful to amateur mechanics and road cycling enthusiasts alike. It
certainly isn't comprehensive; there just wasn't space.....We hope it
inspires you to get the workstand out.
The book is a joint venture between
VeloPress and Rouleur so as always the publication is of very high
quality and many of the photos approach art. With the cycling season
coming to an end for many of us, this is an excellent read for dark
winter evenings, fun to just browse through, and would be a fine gift
for any cyclist, even one with or without a workstand.
“Bicycle Mechanic—Tales from the
Road and the Workshop” by Guy Andrews and Rohan Dubash,
with photography by Taz Darling
270 pp., ill., paperback
VeloPress 2014, suggested retail price
US$24.95
ISBN 978-1-937715-18-2
For more information on this and other
cycling books, check out www.velopress.com
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