Forking Hell!!!

Having discovered (despite much fanfare on their part) the international supplier wouldn’t ship a carbon composite fork to these shores, a friendly chat with Upgrade bikes (www.upgradebikes.co.uk) secured this much nicer Kinesis model for the same money. No danger of it being obliterated by the baggage destroyers; confiscated by customs or yours truly getting clobbered for import tax and other hidden duties later along the line.

Those with a more traditional pattern are getting progressively rarer as integrated becomes virtually standard. I’m pleasantly indifferent to the humble star fangled nut, so have opted for a CNC machined expandable wedge, more commonly associated with carbon steerers instead.

With discs mainstream and increasingly ubiquitous in road circles, bolt through axles are following close behind. Rigidity is the main draw, although there’s a quiet hush (reminiscent of the dual between VHS and Betamax) as we wait to see which pattern/variant becomes industry standard. I certainly wouldn’t bet on which way the pendulum will swing but rumour suggests big S are working on something….

Rory and I also discussed the latest and extremely appealing Tripster ACE, which is a complete build. Traditionally, Kinesis have been a frameset brand marketed at experienced riders who like to brew their own a’la cart machines, whether this be upgrading a tired frameset on their commu/trainer/workhorse and using the existing components, or something more prosaic.  

Priced squarely at the Cycle to work scheme market, we’ll be putting one through its paces at Seven Day Cyclist, along with some tasty looking TRP products in the very near future. 

Talking of Big S, wheel choice has also deviated from the original script in favour of their imaginatively monikered WHFX05 hoops, which are a 28hole road/cross variant seemingly perfect for this application and bring the total cost to a reasonable £180.

However, this precludes the Avid disc, so I’ve acquired a 160mm SLX unit and hope the Avid calliper will prove compatible. Much of this will be recouped from the sale of the older ITM forks and some other unwanted components, freeing up space and capital for other, unrelated projects that are beginning, finally to take shape.

Cables are another consideration-generally speaking I’ve erred towards mid to upper end Teflon coated stainless steel fare and always keep several in stock for convenience. However, having decided on a cable operated disc, I want the very best I can get from it. I’ve always liked Jagwire cablesets, so jumped at the invitation from Moore Large (www.todayscyclist.co.uk) to test their compression-less, road elite set.

Compression-less has been around for donkey’s-well, three decades to be precise. However, the forces placed upon a gear cable are incomparable with those involved in stopping. Some brave souls experimenting with compression-less cabling soon discovered this fade free nirvana was shorter lived than Icarus’s wings.

Thankfully, manufacturers cottoned on and most seem really impressive-regardless whether disc, dual pivot, cantilever, or linear pull (V brake). Decent quality cutters are a must in any context but absolutely imperative on these relatively tough Kevlar housings.

Tempting though it is to use an existing cable as a quick reference template, compression-less housings are stiffer and require a more gradual bend, so offer up, leave some extra length-then, snip. Unless of course; you’ve money to burn.

Recent close-encounters on two wheels (and in four) have served only to intensify my already palpable contempt for poor road craft. Popular belief suggests the possession of a licence means competent to operate a vehicle with care and consideration.

However, this doesn’t take into account a pronounced culture of contempt and entitlement, which seems to remove any accountability. On the phone, texting, applying foundation, bit of blusher, reading magazines all seems perfectly reasonable activity when operating a ton plus of steel.

Perhaps there’s something particular about Thursday evenings but I’ve had two breathtakingly close encounters recently. Ironically, on both occasions, I’d left home without the Geonaute; otherwise the footage from both incidents would’ve been broadcast here, possibly via Youtube.

I’ve also acquired this resin camera mount for a quid. Build quality is vastly superior to a very similar looking big brand model costing considerably more. It’s actually designed for motorcycles, so I had hoped it would be offer a vice like, rock steady grip-no invasive vibration, slippage or camera shake. Indeed, it does and aside from the satisfaction, DIY versions almost become uneconomic.     

Poor spatial perception is no excuse for passing me, or anyone else within millimetres, regardless of the vehicle being operated. Back in the late 1990s, a heavily pregnant woman in charge of two small children strayed into my path without so much as glancing in my direction.

I happened to be riding an Indian built, single disc braked Enfield Bullet and travelling at 28mph-any faster and wouldn’t stood a cat’s chance in hell of stopping. Thankfully I did and its academic but it’s not difficult to imagine the anti-motorcyclist headlines emblazoned across the front pages of the local press, without once acknowledging the inconvenient truth.

I have another issue with the term “road rage”. Giving this set of uncontrolled and generally violent behaviours a label almost affords legitimacy-absolving people of responsibility for their own. Men in particular are encouraged to believe “losing it” is desirable and moreover, constructive…

Mods n' Ends aka beating the shot bolt & temp job blues

So there I was belting along the dusky back roads, putting another days’ temp job frustration into perspective and seeing the bigger picture. This heady mix of serenity and pragmatism was rudely interrupted by the sound of metal bouncing across asphalt… Thankfully not the handlebar cam mount, rather this largely likeable Lucas king of the road front light.

Aesthetically pleasing, I’ve never really been convinced by the ornate clasp’s durability and found the knurled bolt uniting its resin bracket unnecessarily fiddly. The lamp itself is another commuter plus model that produces 565lumens in top, with navigational clout through sticksville to around 25mph and 2.5 hours from a full charge.

An easily accessible li-on cell and inexpensive replacements allow extended playtimes with minimal bulk. However, just entering dusk, mine was sipping reserves in flashing…

Meanwhile back at the roadside, I’d leant the Ilpompino against a gate and began foraging through overgrown verges, hoping to find said fastener gleaming in the fading sun. Several minutes hence, I resigned myself to its loss, popped lamp ensemble in my wedge pack and resumed a brisk cadence-mentally scouring Perspex boxes for suitable substitute.    

This materialised as a stray stainless fender eyelet bolt, which aside from improving tenure, makes the bracket harder to swipe. I also discovered another (!) helmet strap complete with Go-Pro mount, so have bolted the Knog pattern atop. These will be tethered to a lid and trialled over the coming weeks.

I’d deliberately allowed the Ilpompino to cultivate a grimy patina during this time to test the effectiveness of some eagerly awaited bike washes, foaming chain cleaners and lubricants of varying viscosity. Air temperatures are still holding around the 20c mark, thus sludgy black frame preserve continues to leach stubbornly from my fleet’s breathe holes and bottom bracket shells.

Ideal conditions for basting the KA’s underside and chassis with my medieval medicine…Previous coats have remained firmly ensconced; albeit slightly weathered, thus bi-annual top-ups stop anything nasty getting a foothold.   

Most cleaners are now designed with composites in mind, eliminating risk of solvent damage. Genuinely effective on light to middleweight summer lubes, filmy residual road spatter and organic stuff; heavy duty wet potions demand three, sometimes four helpings and concerted coaxing from medium firm bristle plots.

Freelancing is synonymous with competence-if you’re not, you don’t last. Very occasionally, we might receive a stiff, though constructive editorial rebuke. Critically evaluate, raise your game and avoid repeat offences.

By contrast, incompetence is one of my biggest bugbears. Present temp role mirrors that this time two years ago, though I’m channelling frustrations into creative endeavours, while assuming an economically pragmatic, means-to-end focus. Stressing the positive, I’m off to play with some rather exciting chain lubes, check progress with my collaborators and work on some drafts before Monday’s 5.30 awakening.

  

Death of a Wingman

Alas after a particularly spirited coastal ride atop my handlebars, an untimely, slow-speed spill saw my cutesy little camcorder friend choke seemingly to death, having ingested seawater. Despite concerted resuscitation efforts at the scene, he hasn’t so much as flickered since.

Now, I am culpable on two counts (sob) (a) having left his airtight polycarbonate house at home since I wasn’t planning on getting near the water’s edge or indeed anything more challenging than smooth singletrack. (b) I opened the casing in an attempt to avert disaster. Arguably the most effective means of voiding warranties perhaps but nonetheless I approached Delkin Europe, volunteering this information with a view to repair (at cost to yours truly).

Cynics will be rolling their eyes but in my experience, shaggy dog stories quickly become apparent and their purveyors treated with palpable contempt…Hmm yes, TIG welded 4130 mountain bike framesets failing catastrophically while “Just riding along”, rear mechs that suddenly fail after a fortnight. So that ten-foot drop-off hadn’t a hand in things…Bottom line, pros of any description aren’t silly, quickly spot tell-tale signs of abuse/neglect/tampering and are justly unappreciative of having their intelligence insulted.

A few polite emails later reveals these units are literally factory fit n’ forget, thus cannot be repaired in the event of impact or water damage. Ultimately, we couldn’t reach a mutually agreeable arrangement regarding a replacement  so with no hard feelings, I’ll put it down to experience and keep my eyes peeled for a comparable alternative. By contrast, that VDO X1DW literally hasn’t missed a beat these past few weeks and is much easier to install/calibrate than the plethora of cable ties might suggest. Solid, reliable technology and eleven functions provide plenty of useful data for generic training without feeling overly complex.

While busy, the display stops short of overcrowded-it took several outings before I noticed the little pacer arrow that sets an encouraging as removed from nagging tone. Unlike speed sensors, wireless cadence units still tend to be reliable by varying degrees, reliant upon magnets passing a hair’s breadth from their metaphorical mother ship. Attaching the former to differing profiles of crank arm seems to be another chore since zip ties show a tendency for slippage with subsequent loses of connectivity. Fear not, the VDO is very quick to announce this fact courtesy of a flashing zero tucked adjacent to current speed, though thankfully this vanishes after ninety seconds or so, thus not distracting rider attention, or spoiling an otherwise satisfying ride.

Creature of the night, I consider backlights invaluable and its omission a slightly disappointing oversight but one I’m prepared to overlook when build quality and asking price are factored into the equation. Elsewhere, the book venture has been gathering further momentum-managed to fit in another 3,000 words, which doesn’t sound particularly notable but little and often is markedly better than bouts of sporadic intensity. 

A pronounced silence from traditional publishers draws me ever closer to the world of electronic e-book type, something of a dent to my fragile male ego perhaps but having it languishing in hard drives and memory sticks isn’t an option. I laid down a personal challenge to get a book to publishable state before hitting forty-a milestone thing that would draw a positive line under the previous decade. Talking of which, having left theatre following corrective surgery to my crushed digit, a woman working in a quasi-nursing/patient liaison role blundered into the side room where I was decanting gowns in favour of street togs and seemed determined to probe. Like most people, I have some minor insecurity body-wise - scarring from welding and others acquired from cycling/motorcycling specifically.

For the most part I don’t give them a second thought, though she seemed oblivious to the verbal cues indicating that I wanted a few moments privacy to button my shirt. Had she asked if it were permissible to converse with me while I finished dressing, I could’ve gently asked her to leave but instead she continued to pry, focusing upon my age, what I was planning to do for my fortieth birthday etc. I’m also a little sensitive about my age these days but only in relation to attainment. Introspection of this kind was extremely unwelcome, however well-intentioned… 

Long steady evening saunters on the fixer have resumed, restoring my confidence accordingly. Much to my surprise, Purple Harry dry lube is also proving pretty competitive, returning 160 miles from a single helping. Unlike the Finish Line Ceramic Wax, it employs a plant based ethylene thickener, which remains pretty flammable, though has lesser environmental impact than boron nitride and similar petrochemical agents. Assuming you’ve introduced as per instructions, left curing for sixty minutes or so before heading off; staying power is surprisingly good. In common with other emulsion types a slightly grimy patina proliferates the links given thirty miles, whereupon it steadily flakes away, leaving behind a seemingly invisible PTFE coating yet no hint of that familiar metallic tinkling.

Contrary to some other markedly similar formulas it also works wonders on other interfaces, namely cleats, jockey wheels and even control cables without recourse to unexpected water displacer surgery on account of them gumming up given a week or so. Soggier conditions take their toll on outright longevity, dipping to sixty-five miles between top-ups when negotiating soft singletrack but reapplications in most other contexts can be direct sans chain bath/ scrubbing. These attributes shouldn’t be overlooked in a touring context either, though be prepared to reapply more frequently in damp and indeed humid conditions. Speaking of touring, you’ll have to excuse me; this here Raleigh Sojourn’s a calling…