Despite the rescue attempt, the Halo Spin Doctor’s Freehub had succumbed to pawl spring failure. Ison-distribution were characteristically incredibly helpful and empathetic, sending me a replacement the next day. I’m hoping this will be a long-term cure. However, I bought another XT hub as a precaution, while opportunity and favourable pricing presented.
I’d been enjoying a succession of very mucky outings aboard Ursula, I succumbed to a sudden and unwelcome rear blow out and a minor wibble in the sturdy Sputnik/XT wheel. This ultimately meant a six mile walk home and led me to retire the basic but generally likeable Maxxis Ikon Maxxis Ikon Tyres | cycling-not-racing (sevendaycyclist.com) 2,500 mixed terrain miles down the line. Doesn’t matter how well built a wheel, or how sturdy your tyres, catch that sharp, or that hole with your name on it and something’s gonna give.
A couple of riders slowed and offered help-as is the standard code for us and understood there wasn’t much that could be done at that stage-the spare tubes had also failed. I thanked them and we went our separate ways. I was mortified when a middle-aged woman stopped her Nissan Qashqai and asked if I needed help, or a lift somewhere. I was touched on the one hand and made clear I was grateful. However, I’m also very wary of people and their motivations and often find accepting help very difficult.
At that time, I also wanted to be alone with my thoughts and to reflect. I’ve replaced the rear Ikon for a Continental Cross King Shield Wall (26x2.3) which promises to handle well on most surfaces and a puncture- repelling belt also promises greater reliability. I left Mick Madgett to work his magic with the Rigida/XT hoop and build another wheel based around an XT hub as a second/spare since opportunity presented and my faith in the Spin Doctor had waned.
Though quite different, removing the spin doctor freehub cast me back to the old Maillard Helicomatic system from the early 1980s. I had one on a bike bought in March 1988 primarily for the frameset and ultimately, converting to a fixed gear. Rebuilt pretty much and racked up many miles in the four years of ownership. Daylight where head and down tube met signalled the end. I salvaged the good, transferable components and ported them over to a geared winter/training frameset in the summer of ‘92.
I toyed with the notion of running it as a 1x6spd and bought another Helicomatic Freewheel- a very close ratio, knee-busting block, since that’s all I could find and in my impressionable teenage mind, it would be fine…Point being, it was incredibly easy to switch these blocks, compared to a traditional screw-on freewheel. However, it was one of those concepts that wasn’t fully embraced and ultimately, the freehub system became dominant.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it featured on some early 80’s Peugeots. I digress. I’ve decided it's now time to switch the Holdsworth’s BBB Razor for the Smanie GT137 saddle, which is 137mm wide, 257g and features hollow Cro-Moly rails. A little wider than the mighty Razor but may offer a little more support and, all right, I fancied a change, ahead of the Spring when hopefully the weather will be nice enough for some fast blasts.
By that point, I’ll switch the fixed gear winter trainer’s KMC Z1 for the half-link Gusset Slink. For the uninitiated, the latter is a beefy model that will add some further girth but in my experience is great for getting chain length bang on and they’re super durable too. Despite suggestions, the Blub Ceramic has been surprisingly stoical despite some persistently wet, muddy lanes.
I returned a good 280 miles in these contexts before giving the bike a seriously deep clean and deciding the gungy beard of mud and contaminant needed purging too. Having got everything respectable, I found myself spinning the wheels and discovered a very loose spoke.
So loose that the nipple had retreated into the rim. I whipped off the tyre, tube, and rim tape, only to hear the nipple orbiting the rim and then vanishing. Never to be seen again. Another email to Ison and they graciously sent me some brass14g replacements.
I overcame my 37-year fear of the spoke key (some might draw parallels with the android’s fear of the screwdriver cited in Channel 4’s 1984 tongue- in- cheek sci-fi drama “They Came from somewhere else”.) and wound a new one in, judiciously snugging the spoke taut, plucking the others to ensure uniformity. I’ve said this before, but this long-standing terror came from one summer afternoon in 1987.
Armed with a rather basic spoke key, a cherished copy of Richard’s Bicycle Book and a vague notion of turning the spokes, I got busy with my Holdsworthy Butler’s front wheel… Transforming the 3mm wibble into a samba dancing hoop. Sure, I’ve tweaked the odd nipple I desperation miles from home, but it was always with a sense of acute trepidation. Never trusted my own wheel building and over the years from chatting with other riders anecdotally, I’m not alone.
