Greases, Gloves & the Perils of Parabens

Been working on a piece about lubricants, which logically led to a paragraph or two’s discussion of de-greasing, health n’ safety and hand washes. Parabens might not be the first thought entering our heads when scooping up some dirt purging gloop but their widespread prevalence in cosmetics, toiletries, personal (read sexual if you must) gels is cause for thought and for me at least concern, afterall, ubiquitous doesn’t necessarily mean harmless.

Used as a preservative/biocide, extending a products shelf-life, there’s an increasingly convincing body of research linking para-hydroxybenzoic acids with cancers, hormonal abnormalities, immune, neurological and reproductive toxicity.  

Indeed, there appears an increased presence of these oestrogen mimicking particles within the tissues of breast cancer patients, nearest the underarm region. Playing Devil’s advocate, it may be (like Aspartame, the somewhat controversial artificial sweetener) that there are safe limits within which such complications do not arise…

Bottom line, I’m in favour of minimising contact with anything potentially carcinogenic, whether used motor-oils, contaminated greases, even the supposedly super clean space-age polymers. Thin, washable gloves seem infinitely preferable to absorbing further, potential toxins through my skin. Elsewhere, those nice folk at Moore Large (www.todayscyclist.co.uk) have sent me a stainless steel KMC Z1 (inox).

Nudging 442g, it’s something of a behemoth but seemingly bombproof and positively serene. Now, stainless seem an obvious candidate for winter bikes and daily drivers but nonetheless, low should never be interpreted as zero maintenance, thus I’ve a hunch the pins might succumb to some red freckling.

Admittedly there’s no substitute for long miles, along wet, salty roads but in their seasonal absence I’m trying a similar experiment, leaving a discarded section marinating in a tub of fresh water laced with table salt and left drying in coastal climes.

Ours remains dressed in the factory drizzle, which appears pretty corrosion repellent but in any case, only a minority of us will be whizzing round on truly parched chains for any period. Not that this should be a problem given my present arsenal has been joined by some store brand “wet weather” and “Teflon based” lubricants passed my way for critical evaluation.

Superficially it’s tempting to say they’re dead ringers for a wealth of similar formulas, which will lead doubting Thomas/Theresa’s suggesting this illustrates the prevalence of badge-engineering. Healthy scepticism is essential but so is keeping an open mind. Two products can look decidedly similar and in some instances comprise of identical ingredients.

However, that’s not to say tracks one and two were putting different labels on the same products-weights and measures can vary, hence why some marques will stay put longer, attract more/less contaminant, or in the bad old days, leave a streaky finish, do nasty things to rubberised components and indeed, beneath our skin.

Elsewhere, in the name of frugality, gracious donation of this elderly but worthy tower means I have a reliable desktop once more and my collaboration continues to gallop towards the tangible entity we’d envisaged but near, yet so far springs to mind.

Several weeks on and those Btwin Automatic (SPDR) homages continue to delight, even on the fixed thanks to a subtle weighting that allows easy location/flipping when trickling along. As expected, their softer aluminium bodies sport more battle scars than premium fare but nothing outlandish and I love the convenience of being able to walk gracefully without ravaging best linoleum. Whisper it but I’m not regretting the Ilpompino’s regression to square tapers either; though a stiffer ring would be welcomed…

Patterns Emerging

Having collectively agreed title, design and other relevant stuff with my fellow collaborators, I’ve been able to buckle down to some concerted content, retaining that all important sense of momentum. Just as well really since the temp market is dead as the proverbial right now. (Don’t be fooled by the sudden rush of emails in one’s inbox offering assorted positions, these are so recruitment consultants can meet their weekly KPI (Key Performance Indicator) targets).

Mercifully there’s plenty of inspiration around and the weather’s becoming more spring-like so I might even take the Holdsworth on a quick saunter, if only to confirm that heavy duty rim tape has solved the pestiferous puncture plague. Other excitement includes these BTwin automatic touring pedals, which are essentially SPDR homages and dead ringers for Wellgo RC713, right down to their sealed cartridge bearings and Cro-moly axles.

Now, touring wasn’t the first word that sprung to mind given their small platforms, though crucially recessed Shimano pattern cleats enable one to saunter through stately homes, café’s and other social settings with decorum. Cleat longevity and relative ubiquity are similar boons, though single sided designs are always less convenient than their duplicitous siblings when riding fixed on the public highway-I’m prepared to accept this latter lament says more about my track-standing skills, or lack thereof!

“Road rage” is a construct with which most of us are familiar; though I am inclined to suggest giving this phenomenon a label almost legitimises such and absolves their perpetrators of all responsibility. Studies have shown that a small minority of drivers actively target motor/cycle enthusiasts riding mid to high end machines dressed in technical/performance attire. Having been on the receiving end of such behaviours in both contexts, I can testify as to their intimidating effect but have been to escape unscathed or while astride a 750cc Kawasaki, turn the tables on my aggressor.

Contemptuous as I might be towards pop/pseudo socio-psychology (or indeed any other form of faux intellectualism) I once employed an anecdotally useful index for predicting driver behaviour-based upon age of and model of vehicle, insurance group operator/occupant age, gender etc. For example a kindly grandmother piloting a 3 series BMW is an entirely different proposition to the same vehicle presided by two young males. 

However, said instant reference seems no longer valid and aggression all too often appears a substitute for skill/competence. Other than keeping my own standards of road etiquette high am undecided about the best route of tackling such casual contempt.

On the one hand, high quality helmet camera footage posted to you tube is commendable and constructive means of highlighting such inexcusable displays whether they arise through wilful intent or elephantine ignorance. Part of me questions whether such accentuates or fuels naked aggression in a select few. I also ponder whether these behaviours can be attributed in some manner to the economy-people feeling disempowered in various contexts, taking frustration  to the highways, this might go some way to explaining the incidence of uncomfortably close/otherwise confrontational encounters recently.

This same antagonistic hypothesis has been muted in the context of riders using high power see-with systems, although frankly, it’s something of a red herring so long as helmet fare are saved for trail action and bar mounted beams  angled away from driver eye-line.

Having switched back to those friskier Panaracer Ribmo slicks, I was astounded to discover the otherwise fantastic Exposure dynamo lamp refusing to engage-nothing serious, traced to minor corrosion of the copper wire-easily corrected but a reminder that even the best quality equipment, subjected to lashings of dodgy water will eventually succumb to Mother Nature’s malicious side.

This also prompted me to acquire some spare cabling and research a possible rear counterpart given there’s a second port sat idle…Speculative enquiry points squarely in favour of a rack mounted Bush & Muller unit with a neat, snag-evading cable run...