Spin Dizzy: Fresh Freehubs & Other Wheel Woes

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. 

Fixed (Almost Claims) Finger

This is one of those urban myth turns disturbingly real moments on a par with the infamous worn shoe cleat incident back in 2008. Having reverted to some 25mm thick slicks and given the Ilpompino a quick blow over with this here Purple Harry bike wash, I was cleansing the transmission with a cloth dipped in Shell’s finest when a moment’s distraction saw my index fingers sandwiched between revolving 1/8^th half-link track chain and razor sharp EAI sprocket.

Those initial seconds of panic suggested partially severed digit but ten hours in accident and emergency revealed “severe crush injuries”-fractured fingertip, badly damaged nail bed and related complications. To their credit, the empathy and professionalism shown by surgical and nursing staff was truly phenomenal and serves to illustrate how fortunate we in the UK are to have a national health service of this calibre. However, successive administrations have been eroding this precious resource, or undermining its credibility with frightening stealth.

Subsequent visit meant seven hours wait, thirty-five minutes under local anaesthetic as the surgeon skilfully flush the wounded area with saline and disinfectant before removing the nail bed, suturing damaged tissues. Since then I’ve partaken in a cathartic “hair of the dog” ritual, drizzling fresh lube into each and every link in much he same fashion as we might hop back on following a spill to prevent aversion/irrational fear taking hold. Having repatriated bike, workstand and assorted potions to their rightful place in the garage, it occurs to me that for the most part magic bike wash formulas are variations upon a relatively similar theme.

More aggressive types contain greater intensities of ionic surfactants, commonly found in domestic detergents, which while effective, can ultimately lead to streaking and in some cases corrosion around eyelets, sometimes plated/polished sections too. That said, this is easily countered with periodic furniture polish/polymer wax treatments. Gentler formulas are kinder, albeit higher maintenance-especially when witches’ brews of road specific grime’s involved.   

So, what have we learned from this particular tale of woe? Always use a long handled brush and turn the wheel, as apposed to cranks cautiously when fettling chains-that goes for single-speeds too- you have been warned. Hope this episode hasn’t spooked Joshua since he’s been revelling in two-wheeled freedom these past few weeks.

Incident aside, the majority of that week was spent aboard the Teenage Dream, which is as rewarding as ever to ride once I’d cured the Regina screw on block’s protesting pawl springs with a few drops of winter weight Weldtite wet lube and substituted the Prolite Cles for this droop snoot Selle SMP strike plus cutaway. The otherwise technically superlative grey polymer bar wrap has started looking decidedly jaded-hence will be superseded by these rather ravishing Ritchey reels but that’s about the extent of modification. Oldie but goodie, we dropped two macho boys who drew alongside with a competitive stance while said twenty something and I whizzed serenely through the twisties. Regular Thursday nighter’s who’ve shown laden Univega and I a clean set of hoops on several occasions, they seemed more than a little surprised when I cruised past, giving considerably greater clearance than they typically afford me.

 One clung to my rear wheel in a desperate attempt to save face (overtaken by a fella riding a friction shift-oh the shame!) but rapidly relented as tempo and gradients increased. I’m all for a bit of friendly competition but don’t take kindly to etiquette that belongs in bunch sprints, not sleepy backwaters. 

Overtake so as not to almost nudge bars, or causing the “slower” rider to brake sharply to avoid collision. Shame I wasn’t wearing the wingman that evening- would’ve made good footage. Speak of the devil, slightly wibble prone handlebar bracket and irksome micro (as opposed to fully fledged) SD card aside, I’m really chuffed by the little camera, which delivers audio/visual feedback on par with Go Pro’s hero and has as many mounts as one could possibly crave.

Will try and upload some evidence in the coming weeks once a 32gb card arrives and my braking hand has healed satisfactorily. Continuing this disciplined theme comes the book’s resurrection with a provisional Christmas completion date. Approaches to established publishers have reaped relatively little reward, historically and currently so I may succumb to the lure of Amazon’s e-book platform, if only to ensure its tangible existence.  

In The Buff (Beware The Ides of March)

I am of course referring to the Uber versatile microfibre Coolmax polyester multifunctional headwear, not some subversive form of racing or lewd, “hacked” images supposedly compromising some Z list zombie.

This clever little do-rag has been with us in ever evolving guises since 1992 and can be worn in a variety of fashions-from the classic Marco Pantani "pirate" or Robert Shaw “bind your skull together” bandanas to flowing Lawrence of Arabia/ French foreign legion fashion to hide helmet hair or indeed protect against sun/heatstroke. This season’s fibres have been tweaked to block 95% of UV rays, while providing even greater odour control, courtesy of a silver yarn (if it works well in short inserts then it’ll do its thing pretty much anywhere!).

They’ve also added a nifty neoprene visor to proceedings, which doesn’t detract from the garments classic ‘stuff in a jersey simplicity and works rather well beneath classic road shaped helmets, sheltering eyes from the sun’s glare and winter’s wrath. Talk of the devil. He’s been making a swift; callus return following a few days’ bright spring-like conditions and local authority/highways agencies have been gritting fervently too, so I expect to see well dressed winter dobbins plodding on obediently for several weeks yet. 

Chrome is a slippery customer, quite popular on older steel trainers but contrary to popular opinion, extremely vulnerable to winter’s worst. Assuming you didn’t want the stained, distressed look or the hassle of regular waxing, a decent finisher could preserve forks under a durable powder coat lacquer (two-pac would be a good choice if you weren’t assured of the electroplates’ pedigree).

£10 upwards is a guide price, assuming no other prep’s required. DIY acrylic stuff works well enough on small areas such as carrier stays but simple economics says outsourcing is the best option- it’ll be applied in a sterile environment and won’t wrinkle, peel or yellow over time. I was recently writing a magazine feature about winter riding in its most holistic sense and had cause to query Justin (Burls) re Old faithfuls’ present spec, since it’s in many respects the archetypal winter trainer. Aside from this and friendly, generic catch ups, he happened to mention some very exciting titanium stuff on the brew, including forks- more about this when I’ve seen them in the flesh. 

Spring remains a busy time for builds n’ makeovers. However, there’s no shortage of Stetson wearing lassoers jumping on the specialist finisher/ powder coating bandwagon. Take this 6061 Cross-country MTB frameset with fresh polar white livery- cursory inspection suggests bubbles have formed during liquefaction in the curing oven-a particularly common but easily corrected fault that occurs among non ferrous metals. However, in this instance, overly aggressive application of/blast media has blown holes through the thin walled tubing. Prep elsewhere is equally slapdash-choked bottom bracket threads and head tube over spray is inexcusable, even by job lot standards.

Maybe its coincidence but there seems more riders than usual on the roads this past week or so, which is always heartening and raises issues of greeting etiquette. Notions of us all being “one big club” are perhaps, somewhat naïve-why should we wave inanely at perfect strangers. However, a reciprocal nod or similar acknowledgement is nice. 

Spain was passionately pro cyclist at one point but a new set of draconian legislation has been rolled out in their parliament. This might sound of little consequence to the UK were it not for the sudden emergence of fringe, single issue groups capitalising on voter indifference, or resentment towards mainstream, established parties. Little is known about their underlying agendas/ beliefs and what this means for a nation and its people…I for one am very perturbed. Cycling could then be banned from public roads, passed through on inaccurate road tax rhetoric; the national minimum wage could be circumnavigated or indeed abolished by use of unpaid internships to name but a few sinister scenarios. 

Ending on a more cheerful note, I’ve been recycling an old set of well travelled Schwalbe; most notably turning them into these voluptuous mud flaps. Cutting through the casings and to size was a doddle once I’d sawn through the folding Kevlar beads-sturdy kitchen scissors did the trimming. Mudguard mounting proved strangely convoluted though. I’d hoped to drill through the chrome plastic before pop riveting the flap in situ but those tough carcasses proved too thick. Eventually I bolted them aboard with stainless steel hardware and 10mm nut, trimming the former with croppers and filing flat. Being brutally honest, shop bought would’ve been more cost effective but there’s something deeply satisfying about making bespoke stuff from reclaimed scrap.

Three Wheels on My Wagon

2012 has been something of a moderate year, characterised by peaks and troughs, minor tussles and triumphs in equal proportion. The UK has the Olympics but more significantly, a Tour DE France champion in the guise of Bradley Wiggins. I’ve made no secret of the fact most of my heroes hail from earlier decades, some reputations more notorious than others but with the notable exception of Cadel Evans, few among the pro peleton have captured my imagination so I was heartened by Wiggins’ success and to discover myself warming to him.  

Labelled a “Mod” seemingly by virtue of pronounced sideburns, it wasn’t long before some within the broadsheet press found a darker side courtesy of his late father, a former professional who apparently lost everything and died in sinister circumstances.

There are exceptions to every rule but I’m fairly convinced that today’s pros are more grounded, dare I say self-aware than their predecessors so such cataclysmic falls from grace are now comparatively rare. Racing pretensions very much the stuff of history, I like to observe from the sidelines, report as appropriate and where commissioned to do so.

Cycling as always been central to my identity but words and pictures has long been my career passion. “Someone might question your opinions but they should never be able to challenge your facts” was a phrase uttered by my lecturer in print journalism some twenty odd years ago and one that always resonates with me, whenever my fingers grace the keyboard.

Journalistic licence often becomes the stuff of popular mythology and none more obvious than in the context of Tom Simpson’s demise at Mont Ventoux in July 1967. Reputedly Simpson’s final words were “Put me back on my bike” but these were a fabrication, invented retrospectively by Sid Saltmarsh, a journalist covering the Tour for the Sun newspaper.

 As I intimated at the close of my last entry, I’ve been having a blast on Edinburgh bicycle co-operative's Revolution Audax these past few weeks. Its one of those bikes that offers plenty of smiles per mile with a persona closely mirroring that of a knowing club elder-well mannered and reliable on the one hand, yet extremely playful, requiring little effort or excuse to break into a spirited canter.

I even hooked ours up to the shops’ now sadly defunct cargo trailer and fifteen kilos of kit to see if I could persuade it to misbehave- the answer being a resounding no. Single-wheel trailers are most suited to solos with short chainstays and although a longer turning circle might dissuade some, the low-slung genres are in my view, a better option than bulging panniers for weekend touring. 

  

An unapologetic homage to the mighty Bob Yak, the cargo had some notable advantages. Half the price, fitting kit was less vulnerable to fatigue and the chassis fabricated from plain gauge High tensile, rather than 4130 Cro-moly steel meaning it should prove easier to repair in the unlikely event of failure since, contrary to popular mythology, the latter responds badly to MIG welding.

I’ve owned both and am yet to find another shop brand or pattern example that comes close in terms of handling and moreover durability.

Discontinued because of spiralling production cots and exchange rates, it will be interesting to see if recent contractions within the Chinese economy will see a reintroduction in the longer term. My one frustration common to both concerns the deployment of sixteen inch hoops.

Quality was adequate and small wheels maintain an appropriately low centre of gravity but the availability of decent  tarmac friendly rubber (aside from Schwalbe’s charming Kojak slick) seems as prevalent as Lord Lucan or those proverbial rocking horse droppings. Virtual rummaging has unearthed this 16x1.95 Kenda that I’m hoping will counteract the OEM knobbly’s slightly skittish persona when navigating wet asphalt, while simultaneously reducing rolling resistance into the bargain. Who knows, it might even inspire a new and unlikely branch of racing. 

Returning to the subject of chain gangs, I’ve noticed an annoying and potentially dangerous trend for swooping past my bars with only millimetres to spare. Now my ego’ won’t disintegrate upon copping an eyeful of pristine cleats but this and the related practice of swinging straight into my path without acknowledgement is elephantine ignorance personified.

I should establish none concerned (*photograph for illustrative purposes only*) are known to me in a professional or indeed social context…I’m just staggered by the lack of road etiquette/phenomenal arrogance displayed by those who should arguably know better. Concluding on a philosophical note, I guess we all have our lesson(s) to learn…

One most of us grasp very early on is that winter is harsh on components, especially chains. Enter KMC Z8XRB, a heavy duty, heat treated offering dressed in a heavyweight-galvanised finish. Arguably a decent quality nickel plating coupled with proper little n’ often lubrication keeps tarnish academic but the less polished plating might have a beneficial effect upon durability in a wider, everyday context.

Aside from the “missing link” expiring within he first few pedal strokes, things look promising despite the wet, humid conditions that have defined the past few weeks. 1250 miles and a chain tool reading of 0.6 seems par for the course so I’ll be monitoring its progress closely.