Showing posts with label Are you Sure Santa rides a 531 Road Path Bike Daddy?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Are you Sure Santa rides a 531 Road Path Bike Daddy?. Show all posts

Saturday, 22 November 2008

Restoration, Relaxation and an Unwelcome Ressurection

Since taking delivery of the fabled frameset last Thursday, I have managed to uncover some clues as to its identity.Constructive vandalism courtesy of a wire brush revealed the numbers 3670 with the prefix J or possibly P stamped on the bottom bracket shell. I initially thought it a Hill Special from this era but further investigation suggests it’s a Holdsworth of similar vintage. The forks whilst not original are very fetching and period appropriate. Centre to top, the seat tube measures 23 inches whilst the top tube a more modest 21.5- nigh on perfect for my long in the leg, short in the torso proportions. Having mislaid my micrometer, I’m needing to confer with the previous owner regarding seat tube diameter. Tradition suggests 27.2 but I know of quite a few builders who opted in favour of 27.0 so as to preserve tube-wall thickness.

Sharon (my girlfriend) masterminded colour selection and we’ve entrusted Maldon Shotblasting and Powder Coating with the task of blast cleaning and applying paint code 5012 to its tubes- a slightly different shade to the existing, neatly brush painted GreevesMooreland" blue in the photographs. For the uninitiated, Greeves were a highly respected small-scale British manufacturer of trials motorcycles, regarded by many as being ahead of their time before managerial incompetence, more dependable Japanese imports and widespread car ownership sounded the industry’s death knell in the early 1970s.

Joshua now seems convinced Santa will arrive astride a 50’s Road Path Bike sporting studded snow tyres and towing a 4130 cro-moly trailer full of goodies (five year olds are blissfully unaware of the present economic climate!). Followers in North America and cooler European climes will be laughing uncontrollably at the suggestion the UK has snow, let alone cold snaps. Having spent some of my formative years in Utah, I know the true meaning of chill winters- snow chains on cars until late spring, the sound of snow-blowers racing around suburban lawns etc, etc. Here in England, the merest mention of the white stuff grounds the nation and its infrastructure to a resounding halt!

Ignoring the mirth and mockery for a moment, we’ve been chasing through the lanes, I captaining the faithful, geared Univega RTB (wouldn’t manage trailer tugging’ in these parts on a fixed given the gradients) and my young apprentice aboard the single speed tag-a-long. I get some resistance training whilst he indulges in the scenery, a growing passion for cycling and there's usually opportunity for both to reflect upon life in general. In fairness, so long as we regularly brake for cake and something warming he’ll motor up the climbs like the proverbial mountain goat.

Chrome three piece BMX cranks limit scope for pedal upgrades so I might drill the OEM resin units to accommodate clips and straps, providing more efficient power transfer and maybe Santa will have a budget suspension seat post in his trailer....


Four miles across the water stands the now decommissioned Bradwell Power Station being the UK’s first phase one nuclear power plant constructed in 1963. The location was chosen given the sea effected cooling for the reactors. My late grandfather was one of a team of highly skilled welders who fabricated the Magnox unit. His initial excitement at being chosen for the project soon turned to guilt upon uncovering how potentially lethal the technology was.


Towards the end of his life and despite crippling illness, he revealed how they were building to a maximum design life of twenty five years. The notorious Magnox reactor had been in continuous service for considerably longer before the official decommissioning in 2002, courting further controversy when Nyrex proposed a nuclear waste dump at the site some sixteen years previously.


Local protests saw the project shelved but the regret of not putting down the torch, turning off the shielding gas and walking away tormented my grandfather until his death in 1998.

Once again, the site is being earmarked by the nuclear industry for new generation reactor despite mounting local opposition. It is widely acknowledged that fossil fuels cannot last indefinitely; neither should they be depleted to the point of exhaustion.

However, nuclear energy opens a real Pandora’s Box- as Three Mile Island and Chernobyl clearly illustrate. There are many alternatives but it would appear once more, the commercial interests of the few are riding roughshod over the welfare of millions.