Spring has apparently sprung early and in an effort to save money on our battle-scarred infrastructure, farmers seem encouraged to layer the roads in thick slimy dung, topped off with hedge clippings. This particularly conspiratorial brew is conducive to the dreaded hiss-even with 1.75 section mtb rubber and those otherwise ultra dependable thorn resistant tubes. Said concoction also serves as timely reminder that no matter how technically endowed your hoops, should you meet that thorn/nail/rock/pothole with your name on it, you will come unstuck. Mercifully, it took several miles for the offending sharp to pierce the tyre casing, serenading me with a slow, yet audible rush of air as we returned to base. 
With puncture season officially open, there appears no end to freeloaders expecting to drop their wounded butyl at my house for while u wait, free of charge repair (!). Yes, I served in a bike shop (where I learned to read people and their intentions in the blink of an eye), yes I am of a helpful disposition but I am not a charity, here for the convenience of others. Capiche! Now, this is entirely different from coming to the aid of someone stricken by the roadside-most of us have experienced the kindness of a passing rider(s) and hopefully reciprocated at least once during our cycling careers. 
Things happen for a reason. I didn’t subscribe to this philosophical (some might say, fatalist) state in my teens and twenties but it’s one I’ve assumed with time. Such has seen me review the fleets’ toolkit-specifically pumps, tubes and patch kits to ensure they were all suitably stocked and more importantly in good working order. Afterall, spare inner tubes and patches are of little consequence several miles from home with crusty vulcanising solution, wheezy pump and/or CO2 inflator. Having exhausted my supply of spares, the patch kit(s) came out to play. Experience suggests taking manufacturer claims with a pinch of salt, leaving glue/less types overnight provides the best success rates. 
I’ve taken to pressing them in situ using soft-jawed clothes pegs. Failing to follow this rule saw a good quality example of the glue-less breed lift after a few hours but then, I’ve never put my faith in this particular genre so reverted to the suppler, feathered edge variety.
To the uninitiated, slime-filled self-healing tubes sound heaven-sent but are a recipe for a disgusting sticky mess in the event of rolling over that sharp. Most sealants seem to have a finite life before turning chalky or randomly spewing green goo from the valves. That said; I’ve danced a jig having found one in the bottom of a pannier when the long walk home looked imminent.
Wednesday bore witness to the transformation of last week’s tatty tandem frameset. Thirty-five minutes sustained effort in the blast cabinet had consumed the barnacle thick external rot, revealing sound metal with quite extensive residual acne. Common to popular misconception, this pitting isn’t necessarily down to the blast media or operator skill but demonstrates how corrosion leeches into the host metal when neglected for any time.
A call advising of this and some minor dents saw the owner decline additional preparatory work so Graham set about making good the worst areas before applying and baking the chromate.
The customer chose to retain the original gold livery, albeit with a sparkle lacquer topcoat evocative of the 70s… bell bottoms, industrial strife, Eurovision and orange bathrooms anyone? Saddle rails, pedals and braking components were also passed through the mini blaster and emerged looking remarkably fresh, ready for gloss black.
Mocking and cold in black and gold I mused, capturing a few further shots and contemplating my falling blood sugar. Every colour has its own unique characteristics and gold has a tendency to bobble-if this isn’t tackled prior to oven curing it results in visible imperfections. Yellow is another tricky livery thanks to its pigment but attempting to compensate by applying thicker coats sees it emerge from the oven literally hanging from its host like runny custard. In this situation, there’s no option but to leave it marinating in the enzyme tank overnight before blasting to bare metal and starting from scratch come the morning.
With puncture season officially open, there appears no end to freeloaders expecting to drop their wounded butyl at my house for while u wait, free of charge repair (!). Yes, I served in a bike shop (where I learned to read people and their intentions in the blink of an eye), yes I am of a helpful disposition but I am not a charity, here for the convenience of others. Capiche! Now, this is entirely different from coming to the aid of someone stricken by the roadside-most of us have experienced the kindness of a passing rider(s) and hopefully reciprocated at least once during our cycling careers. Things happen for a reason. I didn’t subscribe to this philosophical (some might say, fatalist) state in my teens and twenties but it’s one I’ve assumed with time. Such has seen me review the fleets’ toolkit-specifically pumps, tubes and patch kits to ensure they were all suitably stocked and more importantly in good working order. Afterall, spare inner tubes and patches are of little consequence several miles from home with crusty vulcanising solution, wheezy pump and/or CO2 inflator. Having exhausted my supply of spares, the patch kit(s) came out to play. Experience suggests taking manufacturer claims with a pinch of salt, leaving glue/less types overnight provides the best success rates. I’ve taken to pressing them in situ using soft-jawed clothes pegs. Failing to follow this rule saw a good quality example of the glue-less breed lift after a few hours but then, I’ve never put my faith in this particular genre so reverted to the suppler, feathered edge variety.To the uninitiated, slime-filled self-healing tubes sound heaven-sent but are a recipe for a disgusting sticky mess in the event of rolling over that sharp. Most sealants seem to have a finite life before turning chalky or randomly spewing green goo from the valves. That said; I’ve danced a jig having found one in the bottom of a pannier when the long walk home looked imminent.
Wednesday bore witness to the transformation of last week’s tatty tandem frameset. Thirty-five minutes sustained effort in the blast cabinet had consumed the barnacle thick external rot, revealing sound metal with quite extensive residual acne. Common to popular misconception, this pitting isn’t necessarily down to the blast media or operator skill but demonstrates how corrosion leeches into the host metal when neglected for any time. A call advising of this and some minor dents saw the owner decline additional preparatory work so Graham set about making good the worst areas before applying and baking the chromate. The customer chose to retain the original gold livery, albeit with a sparkle lacquer topcoat evocative of the 70s… bell bottoms, industrial strife, Eurovision and orange bathrooms anyone? Saddle rails, pedals and braking components were also passed through the mini blaster and emerged looking remarkably fresh, ready for gloss black.Mocking and cold in black and gold I mused, capturing a few further shots and contemplating my falling blood sugar. Every colour has its own unique characteristics and gold has a tendency to bobble-if this isn’t tackled prior to oven curing it results in visible imperfections. Yellow is another tricky livery thanks to its pigment but attempting to compensate by applying thicker coats sees it emerge from the oven literally hanging from its host like runny custard. In this situation, there’s no option but to leave it marinating in the enzyme tank overnight before blasting to bare metal and starting from scratch come the morning. 
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