"A wolf in sheep's clothing"

I had not thought about my Litespeed in those terms until Gunnar commented on the picture I posted. I don't even have other pictures of it yet.

It really is a mean racing bike under the civilized exterior.

The frame is a 2007 Litespeed Siena, their entry level race frame. Except that it is not a Siena, not really. The tube set started out the same, and the front-end geometry was preserved from the Siena, but the Lightspeed Custom Shop remade the frame to suit me. The wheelbase is a shade longer than stock at a meter exactly. My favorite bikes have always been right around that long. If you look at the seat tube, seat pillar and saddle position, you may note that the saddle is centered on a no-offset Thompson post. That happens when you know where the saddle is going to be in relation to the bottom bracket and the handlebars before you draw the blueprint for the frame. Seat tube ended up with a 72-degree angle. Note also the stem: 2 cm of spacers below a 17-degree stem turned downward. So not only does this frame fit me perfectly now, I have no less than 2 cm in any direction to adjust the fit.

The fork was custom built by John Slawta to match the blueprint from the Litespeed shop. Steel is real. I had full-carbon fork on my previous Litespeed. It was a lot lighter than my new fork, but I am a really old-fashioned guy, and that fork scared me. I have not seen a spate of broken carbon forks, and a lot of people ride on them, but I feel more secure on the steel fork. Probably 10 miles an hour worth of more secure.

Drive train is Campagnolo Daytona/Centaur. It's stuff that is built for people who have always been Campagnolo fans, without the price of Chorus or Record. It works well because I keep it clean and correctly lubricated. Easton Stem and bars came on my previous Litespeed and I had no reason to change them. I guess you could say I'm a "go with what you got" kind of guy. Saddle was a trade for something, but I forget what. It looks right and feels right.

The wheels? Earle Wheels, of course. Campagnolo Record hubs, of course. MAVIC racing rims, of course. Open Pro hard anodized, 32-hole rear, 28 front. Yeah, I know what I say about hard-anodized, modern light race stuff. It's going to break. The spoke holes will start to develop cracks. I would not recommend it for other people's bikes. But they are light and cool, and when they break, I will rebuild them, probably with Velo Orange PBP's. Nice silver rims were hard to find five years ago. If I could have gotten MA2's I would have. I put MA2's on my daughter's bike, and those wheels are older than she is.

The fenders, from Velo Orange, have brazed on bits throughout and work like a charm to keep things dry when the roads are wet.

But that's just the sitting-here-looking-at-it details. The ride is what sets this bike apart. I wanted a fast, comfortable day rider, and I got all of that and more. The bike delivered each attribute I was looking for and then invented new ways to delight me. The low bottom bracket and oversized tubes at the front end, combined with a perfectly matched steel fork means that the handling is precise and predictable, even at speed.

The acceleration is just silly. On flat road, I can wind up the RPM and it doesn't twist around underneath me. Or I can just drop onto the 13-tooth cog, stand up and the bike jumps. Yet with all of this speed available, I can ride for six or seven hours and not feel like beaten up.

There are a few other tricks, but I will write about them later.