Spare the Rod

Commodore Dennis Robinson has been tweaking his P-38 Lightning recumbent over the past several years. He’s added lighter wheels, lighter tires, a lighter carbon crank set, and lighter more fluid pulleys. He even lightened his own corpus to gain more speed to challenge his Lightning squadron and brash upright bike riders who refuse to acknowledge the recumbent rider as their equal.

After all his lightening of the Lightning, Dennis saw the light. He abandoned his beloved P-38 and purchased a titanium Bacchetta Aero recumbent with a molded carbon fiber seat.

Now, I thought, “this is very cool. Let’s ride out to Kent on Tuesday afternoon, meet up with Dennis, and check out his new wheels.”

To get to Kent, I chose the most direct route from my house. I rode up Van Brocklin Road to Pearl City Road and turned left on the smooth new tarmac surface. The wind appeared to be out of the north, but now I was rolling quite nicely west towards Pearl City.

After about two and a half miles, I turned north on Rink Road and followed that up to Dublin Road. Turning left on Dublin I was in the gravel for about four miles. This was fluffy sandy stuff with only sparse sections of hard pack. But this is a scenic section of Dublin Road-- an undulating terroir unseen by most riders on road bikes.

After crossing over Route 73, Dublin Road becomes a nice blacktop surface and stays that way for another four and a third miles until one arrives at the corner of Kent and Sunnyside Roads.

Turning right into a stiff northerly wind on Sunnyside Road, I began to wonder if Dennis had left his clinic in Stockton. The wind was howling me deaf, so I pulled out the cell phone and stuck it in my ear. Just then, I saw the Commodore up ahead.

We exchanged pleasantries and decided to ride south through Kent down to Goldmine Road. But I was eager to feel the weight of the Titanium Bacchetta (Italian for stick or rod), so we stopped in front of Fannucan’s Tavern. As I lifted it up, I was completely amazed at this new breed of recumbent. It felt lighter than my Trek 2100.

I now began to sense what lay ahead on the road home. “Lighter Dennis with big long powerful legs on super slippery light bent seeks upright for dinner.”

Off we went over the big rollers down Kent Road. No matter I was running a 50 tooth chain ring versus his 55. This guy was well and truly gone. And gone he stayed for the next five miles over Goldmine Road until our Commodore pulled up at Flack Road and condescended to ask me for a screwdriver so he could make an adjustment.

And it didn’t make any difference that I was carrying the extra weight of tools on my 2100. This titanium rod was very hot indeed—hot and slippery like a knife thru butta.

Things tamed as we resumed our roll down Goldmine to Pearl City. Just like old times on our P-38s, our Commodore was becoming affable again. We turned left and headed east on Pearl City Road into the afternoon go-home traffic. Dennis suggested we detour off Pearl City Road onto Babbs Grove Road.

As we turned north into the wind, the Commodore again laid down the gauntlet. Now, I was shouting after him that I might have ridden “Bump n Jam” rather than endure such ill treatment. We rounded the corner and headed east. The wind was still hard at us, but Dennis let me catch him. Now, I anxiously anticipated what was coming a mile up the road. Babbs Grove Hill is a short thigh stabbing grade, and I was certain the Commodore intended to drive his titanium stick into my legs.

On this quick steep climb, I was barely able to stay on his wheel. Over the top, the “T- Rod” shot ahead down the long eastern slope. This attack, I thought, was not even worthy of a response.

Again, the Commodore let me catch up. And as we rejoined the smooth surface of Pearl City road, I thought I might tuck into a draft on his wheel. Here was my most troubling discovery.

I found myself fighting to find any sort of shelter. There was no draft to be had behind this slippery stick. The narrow width and slick bottom surface of his carbon fiber seat erased any hint of drag.

Equally disturbing was that the Commodore’s “T-Rod” could draft along on my wheel without so much as his rotating the peddles.

That, folks, was my first experience riding with a Bacchetta Aero. I admonish anyone desiring to test the metal of the Commodore and his “T-Rod.” If you are a seasoned rider on board a Trek Madone or some other professional grade velo, consider your odds even. If not, hang back with the rest of us mortals in the safety and comfort of the pelaton. Your place in the “old school” shall remain welcomed and secure.