Category Archives: Reviews

Continental Gatorskin tubular review

I’ve had these sitting on the shelf for ages, as I wrote about in my Ambrosio Nemesis review what seems like years ago.  I’ve finally got round to sticking them to the aforesaid rims, so how do they go?  The Continental tubular range doesn’t seem to engender a whole lotta love, and when I looked around on the internet for other reviews of this tyre there really wasn’t much out there.

Firstly, they’re black.  Black with that Continental mesh thing going on on the sidewall.  Visually exciting they are not.  One thing that makes them stand out from Conti’s clincher offerings is the file-tooth tread pattern, as opposed to the funky thing on the clinchers.  Meh.

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Excited yet?  No, me neither.

So, first inspection isn’t too exciting.  Conti’s tubs have a reputation for being – ah, a little stiff.  Hosepipe is a word often used.  Handling these does nothing to dispel your fears.  They feel solid – German, in fact.

This isn’t, however, all bad.  My Nemesis’s have normally been shod with Vittoria Paves, and there’s several bloody good reasons why they aren’t being replaced.  The first of these are:

  1.  The variable construction quality of Vittorias of late, specifically the Pave.  Three out of the last four through my hands have had appallingly misshapen base tapes, to the point where letting them deflate – as any latex-tubed tubular will do in about a week – meant the tyre naturally wanted to deform to the point where it pulled away from the glue job.  Yes, they have become that shit.
  2. The Pave has gone up from an official 24mm to an official 25mm.  In reality, the difference feels much bigger than this – it feels faintly balloon-y, next to the old one.  I was happy on the old size; the new one feels like overkill – great on a Sunday best ride, overkill for a race or throwdown.  The Conti is, despite the nominal 25mm size, much more akin in dimension to the old Pave.
  3. Cost.  Paves ain’t cheap and, on the roads around here, I’ll get about 1500 kms from a set.  If my previous experience of Conti clinchers is anything to go by, I expect to more than double that – and the Contis are half the cost in the first place.

The Contis mounted with the minimum of fuss.  They feel well made, the base tapes are even, no humps or ugly joins, no lumps of shit around the valve,  and they’re just – round.  Easy to mount evenly.  Because these are butyl tubed, they stay inflated, so I didn’t have to top them up before I went out to take them for a spin.  I rolled out with 85 psi in the front and 90 in the rear.

First impressions are that hosepipe might be a bit harsh – but plush is pushing it.  The ride is better than pretty much any clincher I’ve ridden, but it’s a way off the Pave magic carpet.  Pretty much what I expected, really.  I think I’d run these at 100 in a race or bunch shitfight, and at those pressures the difference in comfort is noticeable, but not painfully so.  Then again, in a race or bunch shitfight this wheel and tyre combination wouldn’t be my first choice unless it was pissing cats and dogs and there were long sections of unsealed road.  Generally, they’re my misadventure/Sunday mooch option: what I ride when I’m not riding to get somewhere – when I’m just riding for me.

So I got what I thought I would: a cheaper Pave alternative with its own set of compromises and its own set of strengths.  As a Sunday best, plush pair of tyres, there are better offerings out there – think Veloflex, if Vittoria have rubbed you up as badly as they have done me.  If you’re looking for a set of reasonable, well made tubs that should last a while, pennies and puncture resistance count – then these might tick enough of your boxes to deserve a good look.   They also come in a 22mm width, if you’re that way inclined.

For me though – I don’t know.  There’s just something – missing.   Good enough for winter, perhaps.  But for summer – for want of a better word – I’ll want something with a bit more soul, and cost be damned.

For fuck’s sake – it’s a tyre. 

Yes, I know.  Doesn’t mean I’m not right, though.

 

 

Bontrager Serano SL review

A few months ago I took myself down the forgotten highway and ended up in arse-searing pain.  My bottom, for so long happy atop a Specialized Romin, demanded attention.  I couldn’t see or feel anything wrong with the Romin, but it seems strange that a partner who for so long was a happy bedfellow was so summarily rejected.  Perhaps it was broken somewhere invisible or perhaps the tectonic plates of my arse had shifted – whatever.  I would quite happily have rolled the dice on that score and bought another, but sometimes it’s good to cast the net a bit wider and see what one can see, not least for the reason that I think it’s also fair to say that whatever little affection I had for the big S has almost entirely disappeared.

I’m not alone in my contempt for some of their litigious and anti-competitive behaviour of recent years.  And as for their effect on local bike shops, don’t get me started.  I mean, I get it that you want me to buy your bikes and shoes, I really do.  It’s all good stuff and all and everything else being equal I’d probably buy some of it, but I quite like my bike shops to offer a choice.   I used to like seeing old French and Italian brands that didn’t have the first clue about marketing and brand-awareness except for tradition, and excellence, and craftsmanship, and that kind of thing. Now I like seeing the survivors from then, American brands and British brands and Taiwanese and Chinese brands too.  It’s a rich landscape for the bike-porn addict out there.  Just about the only thing I don’t like is egomaniacal monopolies.  Rant almost over.

I took myself into the local non-S shop about what they had to offer, which was, to labour a point, MORE THAN ONE BRAND but the Bontragers looked nice and they fitted them there, so I went that way.

I was fitted to something just a little wider to my old Romin (I was fitted for that, too, and I don’t think I’d buy a saddle unfitted these days.  Not at $220 a pop.) and looked through their options.  The Bontrager Affinity looked the most similar in concept to the Romin, but I ended up settling on the Serano.  I seem to have been spending more time on the nose of late, and the shape seemed to my eye to offer the promise of a perch more receptive to moving around on.  I’ve got to say too, I quite liked the look of the classic, Concor-like curves.

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Getting technical, there’s some different padding-y stuff going on on top which you might or might not notice from time to time.  Bontrager have got some flashy name for it but really, this kind of concept has been around since before forever, so I’m not going to dwell on it.  I’d say it’s almost traditional, but then the shell’s carbon fibre and the rails are hollow ti, so the weight is distinctly modern.   Bontrager say the Serano shape is for flexible athletes, but I wouldn’t really count myself as flexible.  I’m not quite a sack of spuds, but some mornings I can barely touch my knees.

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A couple of thousand k later and I have no regrets.  It’s not exactly plush, but it’s mostly out-of-mind, which is just about all that I ask.  A strange side effect of changing saddle is that one pair of shorts that were favourites on my old saddle are now instruments of torture, whereas another pair that I never thought were up to that much are now soft billowing clouds of loveliness.  The nose is comfortable, and it’s an easy perch to shift around on, if not quite the park bench that the Fizik Arione is – a saddle, by the way, which my arse detests.

The Serano comes in three widths, and as a final observation, feels very nicely constructed indeed.  Bontrager offer a 30-day replacement guarantee if you don’t get on with one of their saddles.  If nothing else, that alone led me to take the chance of trying out a perch a little different than the one that went before.

Of course, that I got to wander around in a bike shop that offered stuff I got to choose between didn’t hurt either.

 

 

Chinese carbon wheels – which way to go?

If you’re like me – and judging from the length of the related threads on weightweenies plenty are – you will, at some point, have looked at getting a set of carbon wheels from China.  Providers like FarSports, CarbonSpeedCycle, and Yeoleo offer a bedazzling variety of products.  Wide, U-shaped rims, apparently everything the big boys are offering, and at a fraction of the price.  What’s the catch?

The bike industry is not transparent.  The inrng post who makes what offers a small insight into the bewildering world of cycling brand names.  What gets outsourced to where and who is even more nebulous.

Taiwan’s Gigantex, for example, are known to make carbon rims for plenty of brands with cachet and credibility.   All the Chinese providers listed above offer badge-engineering services.  If you want to start your own wheel label it’s never been easier.  A quick read through the open-mold carbon clinchers thread on weightweenies reveals plenty of satisfied customers.  It also reveals more than a few horror stories.

I’m not going to go into the carbon clincher safety debate here, and I am certainly not going to take the point of view that only the biggest and most moneyed purveyors of carbon hard-on material can get it right.

I know Zipp and ENVE etc spend a huge amount on R & D, and I know too, that Chinese companies are damn good at reverse-engineering (read: stealing) carbon tech in the blink of an eye.  (Your morality on buying copied stuff is your own. You might think there’s more than one big brand got it coming to ’em.  I won’t argue.) And you and I both know there’s lots of cheap knock-off crap out there along with the good copies, and that if your Chinese wheel fails – well, good luck with that warranty.

There is, however, a reason that China has come to dominate the world’s manufacturing base:  more often than not they get it right enough, for the right price, which is what most of us want.  You can get a serviceable wheel from China.

But does it make sense?

I am no expert on carbon fiber, but I’m perfectly capable of adding a few figures together.  A pair of Chinese carbon clinchers with basic but serviceable Novatec hubs runs, near as dammit, $700 NZD delivered to your door.  A quick read of the weightweenie thread I’ve linked to above tells me you should allow too, for the possibility of returning at least one of the wheels for something flawless.  Let’s call that another $100, because it will be.  If it gets lost or damaged, look forward to a week or two of fun with your carrier.

If that equation puts you off, what then?  Do you really have no other choice?

Of course you do. Go secondhand.

For $500, to my door, I got a pair of Reynolds DV46 tubulars with less than a thousand k on them, essentially unmarked.  1315g, 46mm profile.  No weight limit.

$500, all up.
$500, all up.

OK, they’re a couple of years old.  OK, they’re not 11-speed compatible, but I won’t be there myself for a couple of years. How long were you expecting those Chinese wheels to last, anyway?

So far so good.  Then chuck in the almost-brand new Dura-Ace cassette, the brand-new Vittoria Corsa tub on the back wheel, then half-worn Schwalbe on the front with plenty more life in it.  The valve extensions.  The wheel bags.  The nice hope skewers. The envelope with the four barely worn SwissStop yellow pads in it.

I rode these for the first time in a race a couple of weeks ago.  It was pissing down and windy.  Modern wisdom says that these older wheels don’t stop, they fly like a kite and want to do nothing so much as pitch you into a hedge at the first breath of wind.

I’ve got nothing against modern wisdom.  It makes good stuff cheap.

If you disagree, if you’ve had great (or bad) experiences with Chinese carbon, or if you’ve snagged a great secondhand deal – I’d love to hear about it…

 

 

 

 

DHB Aeron Race bib short review

Being a tightwad, or a parent of two teenagers – categorise as you see fit –  I’m a longtime user of wiggle’s own brand DHB stuff.  I’ve used various flavours of their shorts for training and commuting for the last few years. The Aeron Race bibs have been something of a staple in my wardrobe in particular.  A new pair’s arrived to replace a pair which needed to be buried for humanity’s good, so now seems as good a time as any to pass on my hard-won prejudices about these shorts – like most clothing I’ve ever come across, they’re not perfect.  There’s good, bad, and downright confusing.

To the good:  the construction’s excellent.  I’ve got a couple of pairs of these that are 4 years old.  There’s been no splitting at the seams, the fabric’s tough and hardwearing.  None of the seams chafe or rub or make their presence felt in any way.

The pad too, is excellent.  It’s a little thicker than that used in the next-one-up Aeron Pro’s.  It’s not, perhaps, quite as comfortable, quite as not-there, on rides of under 3 hours, but for anything longer than that, I’d say this was a better pad.

There are, however, a couple of smallish elephants in the room.    I don’t think I’m of particularly unusual proportions – in face, I’d call myself pretty near an average fit for a cyclist, being 5’11, having a waist that hovers around the 32′-33′ mark,  and a fighting weight of a shade over 170lbs.  My legs seem – to me anyway – to look as if they belong to me and not someone else, and actually, there’s no argument here.  From the waist down these shorts fit very, very well.  Moving up though, and I think they modelled the bibs on a troll, because not only are the bibs themselves are on the narrow side,  they’re mystifyingly short.

I’ve got round this by sewing extensions into the bibs – and not just an inch or two.  Think an extra six inches of lycra to get a fit that doesn’t try and pull your shoulders into your hips every single moment you’re wearing them.  That might not sound much, but when you look at it it’s a long, long way out.  And I don’t think this is a sizing problem, either – I’ve found the same thing with both mediums and large sizes.  If anything, the mediums are a better fit from the waist down.  Perhaps DHB’s sizing for shorts isn’t quite as nutty as Castelli’s for example, but getting a pair that fits first time from just about any short manufacturer out there is a crap shoot.  Is sizing bibs correctly really that hard?

Cosmetically, I suppose it’s a matter of opinion.  I don’t think they look bad, but there’s nothing particularly special about them either.  All in all, as long as you don’t mind an evening cutting apart your new shorts and making them fit like they should in the first place, they’re a good wardrobe staple.

DHB Aeron Race Bib Shorts:

Pros:

Price

Excellent pad and construction

Good fit from the waist down

Cons:

Bibs need modifying out of the packet

Bib straps on the narrow side

Boring aesthetics

 

Jagwire Hyper teflon cable review

Cables aren’t the most exciting thing to review, but there’s no getting away from the fact that poor cables, badly fitted, can pretty much ruin everything.  Since Gore stopped making their ride-on sealed cable kits there hasn’t really been a go-to gold standard, although for me – and I suspect for 99% of us – the price of the Gore cables stopped me from ever using them.  A few of Jagwire’s really high-end offerings are starting to creep that way in terms of price, so these are definitely a mid-table offering at 30$ for a gear kit and the same again for the brakes.  This is the first time for a few years I’ve put my head outside the OEM tent and tried something else.  So, how do they stack up?

They come nicely packaged, with an accessory bag containing assorted crimps, ferrules, doughnuts and boots that slip over the outer cable to prevent frame rub.

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Frame rub protectors are part of the kit

More importantly, the inner cable is the right diameter, which can be something of an issue with certain models of Shimano shifter.  I’ve taken to cleaning out the channels in the shifter at every cable change to keep things running smoothly – a heavy dose of degreaser, then I heat a small pin in a blowtorch and chase out the channel.  You’d be amazed at how much grease, dirt and shite gets trapped in there and what a difference this makes.

Gold crimps are a nice touch
Gold crimps are a nice touch

As with any cables, installation is 90% of it.  A sharp cut is a must for the outers ( I juggle an angle grinder in bare feet, just for kicks) but this done, the Teflon liners mean they run buttery smooth.  They’re probably not the lightest option out there but as a go-to, year-round cable set they’re a good option.

Bottom Line:

Reasonably priced cable set that’s a pleasure to install and better than higher-priced OEM offerings.

Ambrosio Nemesis review, or praying at the temple

Let’s be clear.  If you’re a cyclist in the bottom 85% of our size distribution as a species you don’t need this wheelset.  (Unless that is, you’ve got room in the garage and you love cobbles, gravel, and paying reverence to the best part of the year, the spring classics.  Invent reason to suit.)  But  if you’re over a hundred and something kg,  if you’re sick of breaking wheels and you want a nice sunday best that’s not going to explode in showers of expensive, overstressed carbon, these could be your friend.  Read this, then beg or borrow a set from somewhere and tell me if I’m right. I have more than a sneaking suspicion I am.

Regardless of weight, lots of us revere the Nemesis.  Just go check out Weight Weenies, or have a peek on Velominati.  Admirers are many, fervent, and constant.  This last soldier of the box-section, handbuilt days has not gone quietly into the night – the last rites might have been read in the media, right next to another full column ad for something carbon and temporary, but not out here in the trenches. It has a special place in our collective heart, and it shows no sign of letting go just yet.

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The gold flag…

Mine are 32 hole laced to Dura Ace 7900 hubs, in a 3x pattern, using double-butted DT competition spokes.  There are many valid reasons for using alternative spoking patterns, but none of them apply to the Nemesis.  3x is the law here.

Hub choice for the Nemesis seems to be, by convention, limited to a fairly narrow range.  Admittedly there isn’t the choice of high spoke count hubs there once was but wheelsets made with the Nemesis seem to draw from an even more select pool consisting of Dura Ace, Record, Chris King, and Ambrosio’s own (PMP sourced) hubs, notably on those sets built by Harry Rowland.  These wheels get built for the toughest of tough lives, even if only a vanishingly small percentage of them will ever get to see the Arenberg or the Carrefour l’Abre.

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Shiny hubs, shiny spokes. Like Coco Chanel’s little black dress for a bike.

Similarly, the choice of tyres seems to be bound to a select few classics from the cobbles.  Handmade FMB’s for the well heeled, Veloflex’s, and the Vittoria Pave’s, which are what I’m rolling at the moment.  I always have, actually, on these rims – this is the third tyre on the rear, the second on the front.  I have nothing bad to say about the Paves, except for the set I bought off TradeMe that had mangled base tapes that refused to stay glued unless they were kept up to pressure.  They haven’t cut up any worse than any other tyre I’ve ever had, I’ve never punctured a set, and the ride is just…special. That doesn’t mean though, I won’t allow for the possibility of there being other dance partners.  When these go I’m going to try a set of Conti Gatorskins, just because they’re cheap, and that means I can use them even more, presuming they’re not altogether horrible.  (I’ve never tried a conti tub, and I’ll do so with a little trepidation.  Butyl inner tubes and a reputation for riding like lengths of hosepipe, apparently.  But I’ll never know until I try, so I’m keeping an open mind, for now.)

Classic box section rims never look old, because they're already old.
Classic box section rims never look old, because they’re already old.

So what do they weigh, and how do they ride?  If you’re asking the weight question you’re missing the point.  Mine come out at a fanny under1700g for the pair, since you ask, sans skewers tyres and glue.

To the ride.  As you’d expect the handling in foul weather is just what you want,  but to regard these wheels as an anachronistic, one trick slug is a mistake:  I have a 40k loop near home that climbs from sea level to a little under 500m, then plunges and twists and turns through a greasy rainforest-covered lane into an 8k nuts-out descent, then another 7k of flat time trialling to the finish.  It’s my barometer loop, because it measures everything, and out of all my wheelsets I’ve gone round fastest on the Nemesis.  The braking on them is better than on any rim I’ve ever ridden and the Paves inspire confidence like no clincher ever has when the surface is 90% shit and pothole.

Alright, they don’t get pulled out for that many races.  Yes, there’s faster wheels in the garage for most days.  I won’t be humming and ahh-ing between these and the Reynolds or even the Zondas.  Aero was a chocolate bar when these were born, and shit as the roads around here may be, they’re still well within the everyday capabilities of more youthful, faster models.

But none of them will ever, and I mean ever,  feel as special as these. Get your best grimace on, find a muddy puddle, and pretend you’re on King Kelly’s wheel or that Boonen’s choking in your dust.

Some things never grow old.

Campagnolo Zonda 2014 review

Before I start, let me add a couple of disclaimers:  one: I am not now or never have been a professional bike journalist, tester, and it’s been twenty-something years since I worked in a bike shop.  Two: I like handbuilt wheels.  I like building them, I like selecting my hubs and my rims, and I particularly like the bit where you pay any bike shop in your path a buck – maybe a buck-fifty – for a replacement spoke, right off the shelf.  My number one wheels are a set of Ambrosio Nemesis laced to a pair of Dura Ace 7900 hubs.  I shall extol their virtues in a future post (edit: I did), but I will pause to qualify their greatness – and that of all tubulars – by pointing out that I have a wife and two children, and just about enough of a conscience to feel more than a pang of remorse every time I ride over a shard of glass and chuck another hundred-buck Vittoria in the bin.    Racing, Sunday best rides, solo epics – days you live for – yes.   Intervals and hill repeats at six in the morning, snatched ten milers in fading light – no.  I have a couple of pairs of tough-as-nails training anchors (36 hole Ambrosio Excellences with the Ultegra hubs which are excellent enough to really deserve their own blog post but will probably, as in life, be sadly overlooked) but at knocking on 2 kilos a pair, plus a pair of fat, armoured conti armchairs on them, they really aren’t something you leave on for an evening crit, or chuck in the wheel van at a big race.

So that was what I wanted: something tough enough to train on, fly enough to race.  Something that feels high rent, yet cheap enough to sneak past the purchasing committee.   Various handbuilt options were weighed up and discarded, mostly because at this price point you’re playing with things like Novatec hubs and a selection of rims which some people have luck with, others don’t.  I could have gone the chinese carbon clincher option, but well…no.  I’m sure there’s some folks who’ve wound up with excellent wheels that way, and I’m definitely not one of those people with an axe to grind about manufacturing quality in Asia.  I did enough reading though, to leave me uneasy at the likely QC that goes on at the better known outlets, and enough perusing of the scale of charges for return postage to figure that one small fuck-up would wipe away any savings whatsoever and I might as well have bought those 2nd hand 404’s that I really wanted when all of this started.

And in such roundabout fashion I arrived at the Zondas, via a couple of other safe options (Shimano RS81 – a bit heavier, allegedly a bit noodly, according to some reviews I read, and considerably more coin – and the Fulcrum 3, pretty much identical to the Zonda except for the spokes and … well … looking like they fell off a Specialized.  Too boring.)  The Zondas, I read, were pretty much the equal of the Shamals and higher offerings in Campy’s line, Robbie McEwan raced them lots (whether actually he did or not I have no idea) and there seemed to be a general consensus that they were good, solid, fast wheels a lot cheaper than they had any right to be.  So I bought some.

First impressions were good.  I like the way the rim bed’s been made, so you don’t need a rim strip.  Mounting the tyres I’d chosen (Michelin Pro Race 4’s in 23’s – more on that in a minute) wasn’t too much of a struggle.  The supplied spacer for fitting my 10 speed cassette to the hub – they’re 11 speed compatible, unlike my DA7900’s, a fact which leaves me wanting to find a shimano executive to kick – unsurprisingly, that was fine too.  I wasn’t overly in love with the quick releases at first glance, but then I compared their weight with the Dura Ace ones and found them a few grams lighter, and I can’t fault the closing action, so that shows you what my first glances are worth.  The freewheel sounds a little funky on the first spin out of the box, but after a couple of hundred yards, even, it settled in and sounds like a campagnolo freehub should.  So far, so good.

Hubs are solid, quick releases light enough and reassuringly taut.
Hubs are solid, quick releases light enough and reassuringly taut.

Wheels and tyres go together, so in some ways it’s pointless to try and compare this pair of wheels to my others because my tubs run – well, tubs, and my training anchors run 25c contis that weigh a ton.  The pair of wheels the zondas are replacing are a 38mm carbon faired alloy clincher that I ran 25’s on too, and that was fine for them, but I approached the zondas with a different rationale, because:

Zonda front is conventionally radially laced with 16 spokes.
Zonda front is conventionally radially laced with 16 spokes.

1.  They’re a little aero, but not a lot. They’re also a traditional width – not the new-fangled wide stuff.

2.   They’re stiff.

3.  They’re light at the rim, where it matters for acceleration and climbing.

That’s why it made sense to me to stick a lighter tyre on –  to play to the zonda’s strengths.  I did, and this is what I found:

They accelerate and sprint brilliantly, and for climbing – they’re pretty damn good at that, too.  The braking is great – a major reason I went with alloy over a cheap carbon, because as much as anything else there’s no f*cking around with brake pads.  The braking surface is very nicely finished, right out of the box. The hubs roll great, and looking close up, you can see these are actually really nice units.  They’re not the polished chorus hubs of fifteen years ago, but they do the job well.

Zonda rear is spoked "Mega G3" - 2 drive side spokes in each triple.  Spoke replacement is apparently not straightforward.
Zonda rear is spoked “Mega G3” – 2 drive side spokes in each triple. Spoke replacement is apparently not straightforward.

Like I said before, they’re stiff: my longest ride on these so far has been a shade under five hours, and I don’t mind admitting that I felt a little beaten up afterwards, in a sort of driving a jackhammer-with-my-scranus type of a way.  Hours afterwards, the poor old chap felt like he’d been frozen in liquid nitrogen as part of a suspended animation project that involved thawing it out with boiling meths.

I’ve also done a few evening rides up our local mountain, a crit, and a 50 k road race – things I did buy them to do.  They’ve been fine with all of it, and so has my scranus.    They feel like they’ll last for years, and I think that I’ll mostly be racing on these from now on when the course suits –  there’s plenty enough races around here on shitty surfaces and belgian-type courses to keep the nemesis’s busy between times.  So no, they’re not really a total do-it-all wheelset – the stiffness and resulting lack of comfort rules them out if what you’re really after is a cushy, slightly racy number for a summer of sportives – but for a diet of shortish road races and crits for the man who can’t be arsed to swap his posh wheels out between times, I think they’re a solid choice.

By the numbers:

Campagnolo Zonda clincher wheelset.

26mm semi aero front, 30mm rear, 21.5 mm width

16 spokes front, 21 at the rear

Weight: 1595 g the pair.

Mine are the Shimano freehub, 10 + 11 speed compatible, and I paid $438 from Wiggle + New Zealand import taxes, taking the total damage up to about $600 NZD.

There’s some interesting stuff over on the weightweenies wheel forum about truing G3 laced wheels and their construction in general.  The rims are out of round before they’re built.  Suffice to say, spoke replacement is not straightforward, but it seems to be something which is mercifully rare.  Bet they cost more than a buck-fifty, though.