The same people who brought us $1000 derailleur pulleys are back with another hyper-expensive marginal gain. The latest oversized pulleys from Ceramicspeed are supposed to save performance-addicts a claimed 2.4 watts, and at $500 - $600 are likely to be declared a "bargain" by the cheerleaders (at least compared to Ceramicspeed's hollow titanium versions). The Over Sized Pulley Wheel System, or OSPW, uses bigger derailleur pulleys to make big claims of performance gains.
The Over Sized Pulley Wheel System,
or OSPW (c'mon, why not O'SPEW?)
comes complete with a new
pulley cage to be retrofitted to the
user's Shimano or SRAM derailleur.
With 17 teeth per wheel, the O'SPEW System is supposed to reduce the bends in the bike's chain as it wraps through the derailleur, thereby reducing friction -- to the tune of a claimed 60 percent! Understand that, while this sounds like a tremendous reduction, it's important to remember that the real-world efficiency of a chain-drive transmission is typically between 96-98% (I've read it can be even higher in lab conditions) so the friction losses in a properly maintained bike chain are already so low that you're actually talking about 60% of virtually nothing. And a healthy, vigorous cyclist might put out 200 watts or more in an hour-long ride, making a few watts pretty hard to notice. But the company is convinced racers and triathletes will feel the difference of those 2.4 watts. Or better yet, upgrade all the bearings in your drivetrain to Ceramicspeed, and save a claimed 10 to 16 watts! That will practically guarantee cutting 9 minutes off a 180 km triathlon "with no additional efforts" according to the website.
As always, I have doubts about such promises or claims of "minutes saved" in a time-trial, or a triathlon, or what-have-you. They make great marketing, but the reality is probably not nearly as impressive as the promises.
The way I look at it, even at the top levels of the sport, in the pro racing ranks, average speeds aren't really climbing significantly since the 1990s. Look at average speeds of Tour de France winners going back to the beginning, and you'll see speeds gradually, incrementally climbing through the years and decades as bikes and technology (and don't forget, roads, too) improved. The fastest races, with average finishing speeds in the 39-41 km/h range start happening routinely in the 1990s, with the introduction of EPO and serious, systematic doping, and peak in 2005. They've pretty much plateaued since then. Since 2006 (right after the nullified Armstrong streak), the finishing speeds have averaged 40 km/h. At this point, wringing the last bit of performance gains keeps getting harder and more expensive, and yielding smaller and smaller results.
Such realities won't stop the performance addicts, suffering from protracted cases of upgrade fever, from pulling their derailleurs apart to install O'SPEW wheels, though. Meanwhile, we retrogrouches can think of all the things we could buy for $500 - $600. Vintage frames. A bike's-worth of classic components. A trip to L'Eroica . . .
Regardless of what some flawed self-assessment quiz says, I think that in some ways I really am a Cycling Snob. I just saw that Ted Baker (the upscale British designer clothing line) and Quella Bicycles (maker of British urban-fixie bikes) have teamed up to make "vintage-style" racers. "A thoroughly modern take on an Italian classic" the Quella website declares. Lugged frames, chrome-moly steel, Brooks saddles, and (mostly) Campagnolo components -- how could a retrogrouch find something to criticize? At a quick glance, maybe nothing. But look closer.
Just wondering. . . will that copper plating turn green with age? Notice that the bike comes with DiaCompe 610 centerpull brakes -- which should mean plenty of tire clearance -- but then look at that paper-thin gap between the rear tire and the seat tube. Might as well have used Campy's tire-skimming skeleton brakes. Those are listed as 28 mm tires, which isn't bad, but don't expect to get anything bigger in there. A little extra clearance never hurt anyone. By the way - what's with the big-ring-big-cog combo on the bike in the photo?
Not only that, but read the descriptions and the specs:
I'll admit, it's a cool head badge.
(photo from pocket-lint.com)
"Like a shimmering salmon that soldiers upstream, Ted believes one should always break from the shoal and follow their own current. . . Whether you take the rushing torrent of the town or the trickling tributaries of the country, each stunning showpiece is flawlessly designed with style and substance."
Actually, I'd say it's a lot more style than substance. Amidst all the pretentious-sounding prose there's really not a lot of actual, useful info given. Like, where are the frames made? Are they actually being built in Britain, or farmed out to the same Taiwanese factories that make a lot of other vintage-style, designer-labeled frames? (I'm guessing the latter). I checked out the company's About Us page and found lots more Rapha-esque marketing hype that talks a lot more about style and fashion than actually riding bikes.
The bikes, which are differentiated by color, are named "Redfin," "Bluetail," and "Greengill." For some reason, the model names and marketing puffery for the bikes are full of some kind of "fish" theme. "Let your scales shine brighter than the rest with Ted Baker/Quella . . . and ensure you never go with the flow."
That's right - be a salmon. Ride against traffic.
That's a modern seat lug without a doubt. Not Nervex.
Man, somebody did a job on that seat post, didn't they?
(photo from pocket-lint.com)
The listed specs seem a bit off to me. For one thing, the claim is that the frames are built with Nervex lugs. They certainly aren't any of the better-known ornate lugs that Nervex was known for, though there were some more plain models made -- but the big question is where would anybody get an adequate supply of Nervex lugs for a production run of modern bikes? The lugs have been out of production for decades. If I had to guess, I'd say that somebody in the marketing department (probably somebody raised in the era of welded aluminum and molded carbon fiber frames) has heard people talk about vintage steel bikes with Nervex lugs, and came to the conclusion that any classic lugged bike had "Nervex lugs" so that's what they called 'em.
There are only two sizes available - which means that many people would have an awfully hard time fitting the bike properly. Be ready to break out those extra long, extra tall stems and seatposts. Here's the size chart:
Notice there is about a 5 or 6-in. range of suggested heights for each of the two frame sizes. Also, do the British have a completely baffling way of measuring frame angles, or is it just Quella? Head tube angle 73 degrees. Seat tube angle 56.8 degrees?!
Of course, I'm all for lugged steel frames, and head badges, Brooks saddles - and many other elements that a bike like this brings, but I could really do without the pretensions. By the way, BikeRadar calls the bike "the perfect accompaniment for any self-respecting cycling snob." That alone kind of caps it off for me.
The Ted Baker specials, with their copper plating (to match the rivets in the Brooks saddle!), their leather bar wrap, supposedly Nervex (but probably not) lugs, and their pretentious marketing are set to retail for $1995, direct from Quella, or from the Ted Baker store in London. No American dollar pricing is given, but the current exchange rate puts it at a little over $3000. Not horrible, but for that kind of money, if I wanted a modern-but-classic bit of British steel framebuilding, I'd probably check out Mercian cycles and get a truly handbuilt bike made to my specs and measurements.
So, am I being a Snob by reacting negatively to this overly style-conscious attempt to market a "modern classic" bike? Or am I an Anti-Snob reacting against a bike obviously being marketed to overly style-conscious bike snobs? That just might be tougher than the Riddle of the Sphinx.
I took a goofy "self-assessment" quiz on BikeRadar the other day -- Are You A Cycling Snob? I found it deeply flawed, but readers might be interested in checking it out.
I actually had a hard time answering some of the questions because many of the possible answers were so ridiculous - and the "right" answer (at least for me) often wasn't among the options.
Here are some of the questions - and my responses:
Have you ever used the term chapeau in a non-ironic way?
OK - I'm trying to remember if I've ever used the word "chapeau" at all (other than just now). Being that my command of the French language is pitiful, I've never been tempted to substitute "chapeau" for "hat" or "cap." But more importantly - other than French people, WHO THE HELL DOES THIS?
Strava is . . . The perfect opportunity to look down on others A place to follow friends' achievements Somewhere to log my ride data
What if my answer is "None of the Above"? Where was that option? Has Strava become so widespread that the editors couldn't conceive of anybody not using it? Or have I gotten so backward by avoiding it that I've ceased to exist?
Do you have a favorite chamois cream? What's chamois cream? Yes - one for cold wet days, and one for hot days Whatever the shop was selling.
There is no option for "No." But I know what chamois cream is. I just don't bother with it. As retro-grouchy as I am, I generally don't bother with shorts that contain "real" chamois - and I've never been a fan of slathering my backside (or the garments that cover it) in goop.
How many cycling caps do you own? I have a wide selection of caps, color matched to my various outfits I wouldn't be caught dead in one I have one or two, mostly to keep the sun out of my eyes
At least they're not calling them "chapeaus." I have a few - mostly for nostalgia. They don't match my outfits, and the brims are usually too short to do much about sun. The best reason I will wear one is to cover "sweaty helmet hair" if I have to get off the bike during a ride - to go into a shop or a restaurant, for instance. With no options to fit my answer, I figured the 3rd one came the closest.
Does your sock choice vary based on your kit selection? I buy my socks together with the kit Only to suit the weather No, whatever is handy
How about "No, because that's stupid"? I had to go with "Only to suit the weather" because it seemed like the most practical answer. Cold weather, warm socks. Beyond that, they should be white.
I shave my legs because. . . Why would I bother shaving my legs? It's more aero, isn't it? It's pro
I went with "Why bother. . . " But if someone does it, there are better reasons than "It's more aero" or "It's pro."
Sunglasses should be . . . Protective against UV rays Cycling specific Oakleys
Give me option number 1, please.
Your stem position is. . . Where the bike shop put it Slammed, always The best position biomechanically
Is "The best position biomechanically" the same thing as "Where it feels best for the kind of riding I'm doing"?
Leaders' jerseys and world championship stripes are . . . For Grand Tour leaders and World Champions only For avid race fans watching TV For wearing on club runs
Why is there no option for "Pretentious"?
Italian bikes are . . . Works of art Overpriced rubbish Finely crafted machines
I had to go with "finely crafted machines," though "works of art" can describe some of them.
Gran Fondos and sportives are for. . . Racing with your friends Winning Sharing the road with fellow cyclists
I went with the last option, but I wanted an option to say "I don't do Gran Fondos."
You carry your drink in. . . A bidon A ring-pull can A water bottle
Who drinks out of a ring-pull can on a bike ride? If we're talking about beer, it gets ruined on a bike ride. And unless your name is Jacques, you shouldn't be drinking out of anything other than a water bottle.
Pro kit is. . . As pretentious as it comes For looking like a pro Cheap at the end of the season
This isn't really much different from the World Champion jersey question - but at least this time "pretentious" is one of the options.
Your favorite drink is. . . Hand picked, heritage coffee beans, prepared by genuine Italian baristas, drunk from an espresso cup co-designed by your favorite pro cyclist. Powdered and full of energy Water
Ummm . . . I'll take water, thanks. The "Hand picked, heritage coffee" answer is maybe a pretty good indicator of where bicycling is headed - or at least, in danger of heading - in this world where the cheerleading magazines call $9000 bikes "bargains."
What is your favorite frame material Carbon Titanium Alloy Steel
That was the easiest question for me. Obviously I chose Carbon. Oops!
At the end of the test, I was given the following assessment:
Anti-Snob. You have a strong love of cycling but you hate the pretentious crowds with their caps and pulled-up socks -- you'd rather be out on your bike than sipping espressos.
You can take the test HERE, and if you do, come on back here and leave a comment to share your result.
The last few Retrogrouch posts have been pretty grouchy -- looking at questionable new technology, and scary disc brake failures. It's time to take a look at something old and good -- in this case, a SunTour Vx derailleur, or a Vx-S to be more exact.
The Vx-S was a medium-cage version that had a little more capacity than the regular short cage Vx, but a little less than the longer cage GT. Notice that it has SunTour's unique open "quick cage" design that made replacing the chain a nice easy task.
The SunTour V-series derailleurs were a serious revelation when they were first introduced in the late '60s. Mostly aluminum (the parallelogram plates were originally steel), with reasonable weight, reliable shifting across the gear range, and a bargain price, they should have swept the bicycle industry. I suppose it was only snobbery for established European brands that kept that from happening. Subtle improvements from year to year improved the shifting, the capacity, the looks, and the weight, while the price still remained low.
This Vx model shown here is the culmination of all those improvements. The Vx was all aluminum, including the parallelogram plates. It had a nice finish, and great design details. They were available in several versions -- with the main difference being the pulley cages. The regular Vx had the short cage, and was meant for closer-ratio gearing. That derailleur weighed a scant 205 grams: barely more than a Campagnolo Nuovo Record, and it shifted much better. There was the 210 gram Vx-S (shown here), which was a medium-cage model sporting the open-design "quick cage" that became a common SunTour feature. The less-common Vx-T, also had a medium length cage, but did not have the "quick cage" that facilitated easier chain replacement. Lastly, there was the large-capacity, long cage GT for wide-range gearing (it was rated for a 34-tooth rear cog -- enormous at the time), which became a favorite derailleur for knowledgable touring riders.
These V-model derailleurs had some cool stylistic touches that serve no purpose other than to show that somebody thought this little component was pretty special -- and it was. I love that engraved "V" on the front pivot knuckle.
When introduced, the V-series was SunTour's top-of-the-line derailleur model, though visually it didn't look terrifically different from the earlier Gran Prix or Competition models, but rendered in aluminum as opposed to steel. The second generation got a little more rounded or streamlined compared to the blockier-looking original edition. It gained a little weight, but was still reasonable, and it was a bit more robust for durability. When the V-Luxe was introduced, around '73 or so, it was all aluminum, including the parallelogram plates. The Vx was released a couple of years later, and really represents the peak of the series, but by that time it was no longer the top of SunTour's model range. The beautiful and impossibly lightweight (at about 175 grams!) Cyclone had been introduced around 1975, and the Superbe came out in '77. Nevertheless, the Vx was a tremendous bargain -- which ironically worked against it. It was better than derailleurs costing much more (including Shimano's Crane/Dura Ace), and was worthy of better bikes -- but the low price meant that it was often put on lower priced bikes and left some people with the incorrect notion that it was a lower quality piece. It wasn't.
Not only that, but one can still find a lot of V-series derailleurs in use on old bikes today, which speaks to their durability. Sometimes they'll be marked with names other than SunTour, though. Fuji had versions of the SunTour V-series re-branded with their name. I believe Raleigh did, too.
The "B" adjustment screw (for setting the derailleur's angle) is nicely shrouded, and the high/low adjustment screws are clearly marked, convenient to access, and out of the spray that might come from wet roads.
At the start of the '80s, the Vx was dropped in favor of the more "aerodynamic" looking ARX which was a nice derailleur -- looking at first glance a lot like the Cyclone Mk.II -- but with a fair number of steel parts, which in some ways was a step back from the Vx (though it was surprisingly no heavier). Later, in the mid '80s, SunTour came out with the SVX, which was a lot like the Vx with slightly updated styling, though much of the basic design still harked back to a decade earlier. But by that time, indexing Dura Ace was introduced, and friction-only derailleurs were doomed. SunTour tried to index much of their line with Accushift, but never fully recovered.
Derailleurs like the SunTour V-series were good workhorses that shifted well and could withstand a decent amount of abuse and neglect. Attractive without being flashy. Inexpensive without being cheap. The crazy thing, though, is the way these have appreciated in value on the vintage market. Searching on eBay as I was writing this, I found numerous examples listed for anywhere from $30 - $60. That might not sound like so much, until one considers the fact that in 1977, a brand new Vx would have sold for little more than $10! This at a time when a Shimano Crane was around $18, a Huret Challenger was about $25, and a Campy Nuovo Record was over $35. I guess people don't really appreciate something until it's gone.
I recently read this pretty scary story on BikeRadar:
Apparently, one of their test riders was testing a Specialized Tarmac Pro with Shimano R785 hydraulic disc brakes on a long ride into Rocky Mountain National Park, with some major climbs and descents -- with elevations between 5,300 and 12,000 feet. On a descent down Trail Ridge (reportedly the highest continuous highway in the U.S.) the rider felt his rear brake get spongy for a few seconds -- then nothing. The brake lever bottomed out at the handlebar, and the rear brake was completely dead. His front brake was not affected, so luckily he was able to stop without further incident. A cursory roadside check found oil on the chainstay below the caliper.
The cause of the brake failure was that the brake fluid leaked out of the caliper. According to the article, Shimano collected the brake caliper, hydraulic lines, and the rotor to investigate the incident. Their finding was a cracked ceramic piston inside the caliper, which then let the brake fluid escape. Under such circumstances, each pull on the brake lever would just pump the fluid out of the caliper until it was gone.
Shimano concluded that it was unlikely that heat buildup under braking caused the piston to crack, as they didn't see any other signs on the pads or rotors to indicate excessive heat. But then, it still leaves the question unanswered why did it crack? One also has to wonder if this was an isolated incident, or have there been others?
Shimano issued a response to BikeRadar, which can be read in full HERE. I enjoyed the following excerpts, though:
"We are very sorry for the oil leak and trouble it caused on your ride." Yeah - "trouble." That's an understatement.
After explaining about the cracked piston (without being able to explain why), it concludes:
"Again, we are sorry for the trouble you experienced with this brake caliper. This is a rare occurrence for us, we will continue to study for further refinement and improvement.
"We always recommend that you inspect your braking system prior to riding. Disc brake system trouble may start to appear as a spongy feeling at the brake lever. A visual check of pad wear, contact of the pad to the rotor, and motion of the piston are all recommended. If you experience any problems we recommend you seek professional service at a bike dealer."
Of course, when the spongy feeling presents itself suddenly mid-descent (followed by total braking loss), doing the visual checks and seeking professional service at a bike dealer are kind of precluded by first being able to stop without getting killed.
Such an incident shouldn't necessarily be seen as a wholesale indictment against disc brakes on bicycles, but to my view it does highlight a certain problem with the brakes, as well as a lot of the new technology we're seeing on today's wünderbikes. On traditional cable-operated rim brakes, everything is pretty well out in the open, easy to see, easy to understand -- just as with most traditional bicycle components. On a hydraulic disc brake, a lot of the critical componentry is hidden inside. One can't visually inspect the caliper for a cracked piston the way they can spot a frayed cable. A faulty master cylinder can look no different than a good one. If there's something wrong, it can be harder to detect before it fails -- and if failure does occur, the results can be dire. Not only that, but diagnosing or repairing the problem can be much more difficult.
Somebody is bound to point out that we use hydraulic disc brakes in our cars without incident, and we put complete faith in them. But it's also worth noting that all the brake components in a car are much larger, and much more robust than those on a bike. In order to bring the weight down to a level that a cyclist can tolerate, the discs, the calipers, master cylinders -- everything -- has to be pared down to tiny scale, making them more prone (it seems to me) for failure.
Not that I needed another reason to stay happy with my traditional rim brakes, but something like this should still keep people alert to the potential downsides of the latest tech.
Oval or elliptical chainrings seem to be back with a vengeance, don't they?
I remember seeing ads in old issues of Bicycling magazine from the '70s for the Durham elliptical chainrings, though they were hardly the first of their type (such things were described at least as early as 1896). And they wouldn't be the last.
From a 1974 issue of Bicycling. I imagine that using a front derailleur would be impossible with such an ellipse, which might be why I've never seen these in anything but a single chainring version. Durham would also go on to market Bullseye sealed bearing derailleur pulleys and hubs.
In the smaller sizes, BioPace rings
got pretty weird-looking.
Remember Shimano BioPace? Heck, even people who didn't ride in the '80s remember BioPace. The shape was more complex than the simple ellipse of earlier attempts at un-round chainrings, but the promises were similar. Shimano pushed those things hard -- especially for mountain bikes and touring, and later even for racing bikes (with a less-radical -- that is, more round -- silhouette). And they had a lot of proponents. Lon Haldeman used them. Even Sheldon Brown seemed convinced they were worthwhile.
Other companies, like SR and Sugino, made their own versions of them. But in the end, despite all their market-dominating power, even Shimano could not make BioPace last beyond the decade. Now they're viewed like other 80s fads - like Rubik's Cubes, and Flock of Seagulls haircuts: the punchline to some age-based joke.
The less said about this the better.
In the last couple of years, though, it seems that oval, or elliptical, or whatever marketing name people come up with for un-round chainrings (BioPace was technically called a "point symmetric egg curve") -- whatever people are calling them, they're baaack.
speaking of the '80s . . .
Different proprietary shapes -- but all basically making the same claims. Eliminate the "dead spots" in the pedal stroke. Increase power. Push a bigger gear. Reduce leg fatigue. Go faster.
Look at some of the current brands:
Osymetric calls their design a "twin cam" and has what is probably the most radical silhouette of the current crop of un-round chainrings. Ridden to TdF wins by Sir Bradley Wiggins and Chris Froome. Wiggins eventually went back to round rings. Make of that what you will.
Rotor Q-rings, from the same company that just introduced us to hydraulic shifting.
Absolute Black rings remind me the most of the BioPace in their particular un-round contours - though the company insists they are totally different. (photo from JensonUSA)
Absolute Black recently put out a video to explain why their un-round rings are so effective, and how they are not the same as BioPace.
The video is approximately 18 minutes of this guy sitting at his desk . . .
. . . explaining to us why Absolute Black oval chainrings are NOT the same as BioPace.
He asks a lot of questions. "Why are we so excited by oval chainrings?" "Why ovals?" "Why ovals now?" "Why are we so confident in the ovals?" "Why do we promote ovals so badly?" (as opposed to promoting them goodly?).
You could attempt to sit through the entire 18-minute video, but if you'd like the quick and dirty summary, it goes something like this:
- These are not BioPace chainrings.
- BioPace rings weren't "correct."
- Our oval rings are "correct."
- With oval chainrings, you'll pedal "rounder" than on round chainrings.
- After 5 minutes of riding ovals, you'll feel the difference.
- If you don't feel the difference, keep riding them anyhow, and you'll notice the difference when you switch back to round chainrings.
- BioPace rings didn't work. Ours do.
And if you still are unclear, just remember, these are different from BioPace chainrings. Just look for yourself:
"As you can see, this is the difference."
There. Got it?
Now, if you're hoping for some computer-modelled comparisons to demonstrate their effectiveness, or some measurable data, or anything even remotely provable, well, you might be disappointed. Just keep in mind that there don't seem to be any independent studies that can say conclusively that un-round chainrings make any real difference. By most measurable data, they come out pretty much the same. Keep in mind that a 42 x 16 gear combination gives a person about a 70-inch gear (it will vary a little with tire size, etc.) whether the chainring is round or oval. In other words, one crank revolution will propel the bike forward the same distance. From most of what I've read (like THIS, or THIS, or THIS) even power meter data on the subject can be inconclusive.
On the other hand, it's worth pointing out that the "placebo effect" is a scientifically accepted phenomenon. I'm inclined to think that any difference felt between round and un-round chainrings is more psychological than anything else. If one could somehow come up with a way to do a double-blind test, to configure a modern road bike with a completely hidden crank -- like with some kind of fully-enclosed chain case -- and study people's perceptions, I fully imagine that most riders would be hard-pressed to tell the difference. If the test subjects believe that the rings make a difference, and if they believe they're riding a bike with the rings, then many of them will believe they can feel the difference even if it turns out that they're actually riding on normal round chainrings. It's just a hunch, but if anyone actually conducts such a study (or if one has already been done), I'd love to see the results.
In the recent post about this blog's 2nd anniversary, I mentioned the head badge collage that makes up the blog's background "wallpaper" image. Here it is:
I know that some people might be interested in how something like that is done, so let me devote a post to the process I used.
I suppose that a photo editing program like Photoshop would be a good choice for a project like this, but to be honest, I've never really gotten the hang of Photoshop, and it isn't necessarily a program that a lot of people would have unless they had a specific need for it. But Microsoft PowerPoint, which comes as part of MS Office, is a pretty common program, is easy to use, and has some capabilities that casual users might not be aware of.
My screenshot images below mostly come from the Mac version of PowerPoint, though I've used both Mac and PC versions. They look a little different - slightly different layout, etc. - but most of the basic commands and tools are the same (even if you might find them in a different part of the screen).
Step One - Insert a Photo:
You can take photos yourself, or download them off the internet. In this case with the head badges, a general Google search can turn up lots of examples. Searching for head badges for sale on eBay can turn up lots, too. If you're using downloaded images, save them to your hard drive so you can use them in PowerPoint.
The first step in creating a collage is to find the "Insert" tab, then select "Picture." That will bring up your browser, where you can select the photo you want to use.
In the PC version of PowerPoint, the tools for inserting pictures are in a different location. You'll use the same basic procedure, though. As another option, whether you are using the Mac or PC version, you can also find "Insert" on the menu bar at the top of the screen. Click on it, and scroll down the menu for "Insert Picture."
Here's the first picture I'm going to insert in my sample project:
A photo with a clean, plain or neutral background like this one is ideal. If the picture has a "busy" background with colors or patterns, or if there isn't a lot of contrast between the background and the edges of your main object, the next step will become a little more complicated (but not impossible).
Step Two - Remove Background:
Here, my first photo is inserted. When you double-click on the photo, you will bring up some picture formatting tools on the toolbar. For this step we want "Remove Background."
On the PC, the tools for Background Removal are in almost the same place. Again, the actual process is pretty similar.
When you select "Remove Background" you'll get this box around your photo. Adjust the box around the part of the photo you want to keep. The parts highlighted in purple will be removed.
Because the background on this photo was so neutral, and the contrast was so good, the background was eliminated very cleanly, with no adjusting necessary.
Step Three - Rotate and Re-Size:
Now is a good time to re-size, rotate, and position the first picture. Click on the photo so you can see the box around it, and the little "drag" handles. Dragging the little green handle at the top allows you to rotate the picture to a different angle. Dragging one of the corner handles re-sizes the picture without altering its basic proportions. Avoid the handles on the straight parts of the box -- those will "stretch" your photo and alter the proportions.
Step Four - Add Another Picture:
Using the same process as above, I've inserted another picture. I'll have to go through the same processes as shown previously to remove the background.
The background on this head badge photo will be a little trickier to remove. The background is red, but there are also red details in the badge. I'll have to tell PowerPoint what to keep and what to remove, as it may try to remove too much.
When the "Remove Background" tool is selected, you can go in with the point of the cursor and fine-tune what parts get removed, and which parts are kept. In this case, the program was having a hard time distinguishing between the red background, and the red details in the head badge that I wanted to keep. The little "plus signs" are where I had to tell PowerPoint to keep those details that it was trying to remove. It can get a little painstaking. Zooming in can help you pick out the details.
Step Five - Position the New Photo:
The background has been successfully removed from the Fuso head badge photo. Now I can position it where I want it in my collage.
Just like before, I can re-size and rotate my next head badge photo. Now that I have two photos, I can also play around with the overlapping. The default is that the last-added photo will appear on top, but I can change that if I want to. Right-click on the photo you want to re-position, which brings up a menu. Find "Arrange" then select "Bring to Front" or "Send to Back."
From this point, you can follow the same procedures to add more pictures, adjust them, position them, and keep going until you get the collage you want.
Final Step - Save Your Picture:
As long as you want to keep adding photos, and making adjustments to your work, just keep saving the PowerPoint presentation as you normally would. But when it's completely done, you'll want to save it differently than the default setting. You want a picture file - not a presentation/slide-show.
When your collage is finished, and you want to save it as a picture, pull up the "Save As" option under the "File" menu, click on the "Format" window and scroll down through the options. You can select .JPEG, or .GIF or some other picture file-type.
There we go - the finished product.
I've used the same basic procedures outlined above to make other "composite" pictures for the blog. Here are a couple others:
This was used in an article about my first set of hand-built wheels: A Bike Geek's Dream.
This over-the-top-ridiculous composite was made for an article about spontaneously combusting bicycles. Caution: This Bike May Self Destruct. I used parts of about four separate photos.
It's also worth noting that I added arrows and text to my instructional screenshots above using the same basic tools in PowerPoint, then saved them as .JPEGs.
Okay - not exactly a typical Retrogrouch post, but it may prove useful. Thanks for indulging me.
