Spinny Things.

The wind a week ago got me to thinking about wheels.

Specifically, I was thinking about those deep-section carbon wheels on the Compact that flick me from side to side in the smallest breeze. They look cool, and they are great for getting used to a deeper wheel so there isn't that adjustment on race day, but in the wind they are a liability. The hubs are relatively serviceable and durable, but nothing to write home about. The rims are 60mm of carbon bonded to an aluminum brake track, which means they're heavier than they should be but provide somewhat decent braking performance. They were cheap and presented a certain visual image, and because I'm a cheap and superficial bastard, I bought them.
    

Because I was tired of the unexpected direction changes initiated by those wheels, I dug out my faithful HED Kermesses and put them on the Compact. A wide aluminum rim with a more reasonable profile. While not as sexy as the carbon wheels, they also keep me out of the ditch. They spin up well and provide a reliable platform. I bought them when HED just introduced their 23mm rims and kicked off the wider rim craze, so as an early adopter I spent far too much for them. No matter- I've ridden the hell out of them.
  
I glanced around the garage, which is a lot easier to do now that I've reduced the heap. I have a fair number of wheels. Some, like my 36-spoke Open Pros, are pretty much bash-able training wheels for times when conditions aren't all that great. Solid workhorses, for sure, but they spin up about as fast as a farm tractor. When the weather is nice and your legs feel frisky, wheels like these can really blunt the experience.
 
Others are like my Kermesses, which are still a practical aluminum rim but are a bit more performance-oriented. A few less spokes and better quality hubs. Most of the time that's what I travel with, because they aren't so exotic that I can't find spokes or the odd part for them. You can race with them, they'll stop on a wet day or a long descent, and they will hold up when you run into a pothole on an unfamiliar road. I probably spend the majority of my time riding these wheels.
 
I also have a couple sets of carbon clinchers which I'm not 100% crazy about. The aluminum/carbon hybrids look better than they perform, and my 100% carbon clinchers I can't say I trust 100%. I've burned through a lot of carbon-specific brake pads getting them to stop on steep descents, and I always worry about heat-induced catastrophic rim failure resulting in extensive dental work. They're great for training so I don't have to use my race wheels for just riding around, but more often than not I'd rather ride something else.
 
My race wheels are all carbon tubular. This isn't because I'm some sort of purist or really can tell the rolling resistance between a good clincher and a tubular. Really it comes down to a few key points:

1. They were cheaper than the equivalent clinchers yet still look really cool. I already mentioned I was a cheap and superficial bastard.
2. The braking surface is not structural. In other words, that thin strip of brake track isn't also the only thing holding on the tire. Delamination is a very real thing.
3. If the tire does go flat, I can still ride on it. It's glued to the rim, so it won't roll off.
4. The right wheel in the right conditions can make a difference.

Still, tubulars tires are expensive and a pain in the ass to fix in the field. So, I have several wheelsets that may be used a handful of rides a year. Thousands of dollars of carbon, all tucked in protective wheel bags so they are in good shape when I actually do need them.
 
That brings me to the thought, spurred by clearing away that which obscured my vision. Much like with my collection of bikes, most of which have very specific uses, the majority of my investment gets very little use. The items that have the most utility and therefore get used the most aren't where I typically put my money. I get "good enough", stop there, and then my head gets turned by a sexy layup of carbon fiber.
 
So yeah, I have a lot of expensive stuff that sits around and does nothing. That bothers me a bit, as I've started to consider the possibility that even if I can't imagine not riding, I might not always race. I'm not there yet, but who knows? A couple more bad falls. The next career not permitting me to retain sufficient fitness. A negative culture change within the local racing scene. A loss of interest. I've come to realize that me racing is a fragile state that can be knocked off kilter by any number of things. If I stop, I may be stuck with a ton of gear that cost me a lot of money which nobody wants anymore. A lot of tubular race wheels that are about three drivetrain generations behind.
 
So, I'm going to stop buying clunky, bulletproof wheels. Those things last forever with a minimum of maintenance. I'll just run the ones I have until the brake tracks wear thin. They don't inspire me to ride hard, and need all the help I can get these days.
  I'm going to stop buying carbon clinchers because, at the end of the day, they leave lingering doubts in my mind. It's already cluttered with enough doubt. No need to pile on.
 
I'm going to stop buying race wheels. I really don't need any more, at least as long as I'm still running rim brakes and 10 speed. I think I'm covered.
 
What I really want are good wheels with hubs that spin like butter, a wide profile aluminum rim to spread the tire out more, and enough spokes that I can ride rough broken pavement with my usual lack of attention. I want a wheel that can take some abuse but is too pretty for me to neglect. A wheel that won't flex into the brake pads if my fat rolls shift to one side. In other words, I want a wheel that can do it all.
 
Something tells me this is going to cost me.