It Shouldn't Happen To A Photographer

 

“Riiiiip; Oh-no!” isn’t the most auspicious starts to a wedding, even if it strikes within the privacy of a bathroom. Mercifully, my salwar Kameez (Indian suit) trousers had only succumbed to a very slight and unrevealing tear, which was easily hidden (along with my blushes) by the long flowing gown.

No further wardrobe; or photographic malfunction struck during the four days of celebration and I virtually filled a16gb card to capacity.  The bride graciously agreed to some candid shots being posted here and on my photographic site. www.stenningphotographic.com

October 25^th also signalled the end of British Summer Time (BST) and being something of a night owl, I was delighted by an abundance of blinkies/related equipment sent for my testing pleasure from various editors and distributors.

Courier was very quick to compliment me on the weatherproof canvas commission and unusually, keen to talk cameras. He seemed to have a genuine appreciation of their mechanics too; which is heartening given widespread perception that photography is merely a question of pointing and shooting.

“What camera is that? Takes good photos mate!” Hmm, nothing to do with understanding of light, control of aperture, ISO and shutter speed, or the ability to spot a pivotal moment/ expression then... 

The Teenage Dream is one of those framesets typical of small scale builders during the early 1990s. I am of course referring to the practice of adding eyeletted dropouts-without altering geometry one iota. This permitted the same frames to be marketed as winter/trainers.

Consumer appeal was obvious too-a really spirited frame that would induce massive ear to ear grins, while still managing mudguards and 23-25mm section rubber… Aside from the legendary Salmon Profile models, persuading the narrowest of full length chrome plastics to fit without binding required patience and considerable ingenuity

Thankfully its lowlier cro-moly sibling (built the following year from a hotch potch of components swapped or salvaged from a recently deceased fixed gear conversion) was more accommodating...

Fast forward 23 years and these arrived from Widget. Being able to slide the front through said bike’s aero fork crown and tight rear triangle while still maintaining enough gap for 25mm tyres induce a state of delirium.

That said; fitment still demanded painstaking precision and minute adjustment. Pruning the stays by matter of millimetres at each point was the only means of maintaining this delicate equilibrium.

We are firmly in fag paper territory with these 185tpi, 25mm Vee Rubber Rain Rubber. Operating pressures range between 100 and 145psi, so despite having a midi pump capable of delivering a genuine 100psi plus, I won’t be popping out without a Co2 inflator nestling in my back pocket.  These also fought back, registering a cool six on the struggle-o-meter.

Cajoling them aboard a very unremarkable set of MA2 hoops required the combined forces of three composite levers and dexterous digits. These were accompanied by the sort of primal grunting and panting more commonly associated with the final stages of labour.

My workshop tyre wand would’ve been the speediest solution but evaluating ease of re/mounting using standard fare was crucial given we’re most likely to flat by the roadside, miles from said labour saving gizmo. Initial impressions are of an extremely quick, supple tyre with leach like cornering prowess and  

Halloween probably wasn’t the best time to commence fettling and the spirits certainly seemed to be conspiring against me. First the Teenage Dream’s rear dual pivot calliper got the sulks; prompting a thorough strip, clean and refit. Next up, cable replacement. Having spliced a decent quality mid-range Jagwire housing to length, to my horror I’d run out of equivalent inners. 

Budget inner wires tend to be very serviceable, although have a tendency to stretch, hence I leave a couple of hours, overnight where possible before pulling through and finally guillotining with razor sharp snips. Alas, malevolent spirits intervened again and as I squeezed the Jagwire cutters decisively, those budget Bowden erupted ruinously-both times.

Not to be outdone, my Hudl2 tablet computer suddenly succumbed to charging failure-something supposedly linked to the recent software updates. In practical terms, this means ringing their customer helpline and hoping it can be rectified before the warrantee elapses in a few days…

Feeling decidedly jinxed, I cut my losses, popped the bike back on its hook, ordered some mid-range inners and fresh bar wrap. Felt the urge for a bargain basement rummage-some Bike Ribbon with a slightly unusual colour scheme. Nothing fired my imagination, so I settled on this wallet-friendly black Deda and decided I’d upgrade the venerable Cane Creek SC5 levers in favour of some Shimano 600 since opportunity presented.

Aside from a lighter action, their slender profiles are arguably more in keeping with the bike’s early 90’s flavour.  Well, with the Cinelli mini tri bars dressed in recycled Ritchey, time I was shortlisting some people.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Purple Haze & Teenage Dreams

Having agreed the graphics, title, marketing strategy and other definitive stuff, our collaboration is hurtling ever closer to fruition. Self-belief, realistic deadlines, effective time management and the ability to juggle competing priorities are fundamental to the success of any venture. Rest and play must also be factored into this equation if one is to avoid flying over the cuckoos’ nest or becoming the proverbial dull boy/girl. 

Sunny skies have roused the Teenage dream from its long winter hibernation for some seriously spirited back road fun. Little remains of its original incarnation but while there are firm, sentimental attachments to its 1982 Campagnolo Victory derailleurs, other components held more negative personal connotations, so were easily upgraded and sold on without remorse.

Once a benchmark, Reynolds 531 has long been superseded in competition terms by more exotic blends, though this was largely influenced by modern volume production methods, which favours fusion welding’s speed over fillet brazing-enter 525 and 631. 

However, not all flavours were resounding successes. The thin wall competition variant still delivers considerable grin inducing zing within those formative pedal strokes. Just resist any seat tube reaming or electroplating urges and have a little corrosion inhibiting preserve sloshing around inside-there’s a reason why it’s 27.0, not 27.2!

Once the Teenage Dream’s Regina screw on freewheel rumbles on up to the great bike shop in the sky, I’ll commence wholesale modernisation with this here Sun Race NRX group. Its OEM external cup bottom bracket will be substituted for something stiffer to compensate for the lugged and brazed frameset’s greater lateral flex but this is my only intentional deviation.     

Obviously such updating will necessitate professional resetting of its rear triangle to130mm-Lee Cooper (http://leecoopercycles.webs.com/) has very kindly offered his services and hence, said evolution will hopefully coincide with mid-winter’s wrath.

Deeply intrigued by and attracted to older framesets, component groups, cameras, motorcycles and even some cars, I’m no purist. Those actively living within a romanticised, rose-tinted view of the past will never move forward. I have comparatively contact with anyone I studied at polytechnic with-there are a few carried forward and held dear, obviously. The same applies to others within my previous professional “lives” but from a strictly personal perspective, yesterday is only significant in terms of what we’ve learned from it since.

Conversely there’s memorabilia retained from this era-a Motorola team jersey bought for my eighteenth birthday-something that immediately spirits me to Plaistow and E.G Bates cycles on the Barking Road. (long gone along with any East End connections). 

Raised in a rural parish, I marvelled at West Ham E15- an area characterised by abandoned and often derelict factories, depots and cars in 1992, its grey, grimy patina captured perfectly in Kodak’s Tri-X black n’ white 35mm film. One afternoon in 1994, I snuck past a loose section of corrugated iron and into the rotting hulk of Lesney’s former toy factory having visited a friend at Homerton’s decidedly foreboding RN RU.

Abandoned since 1983, the main track and apparatus were still evident with little evidence of metal theft or mindless vandalism. Extensive redevelopment and gentrification means these areas are almost unrecognisable and therefore unprepossessing.     

I ran an Indian built Enfield Bullet for a short spell towards the decade’s end. Beautiful lines, delightful to polish, sipped petrol but even blessed with upgraded 12 volt electrics and a single front disc brake, contemporary urban traffic conditions proved a test of our resolve, let alone an earlier “genuine” Royal Enfield.

This is entirely different phenomenon from the recent and in my view, very welcome reintroduction of some older concepts-merino jerseys, dyno lighting, internal gears, properly sealed and moderately priced fixed hubs, child/utility trailers to name but a few examples that have been resurrected using modern materials.  

Concrete jungle aside, riding is fertile ground for contemplation. With the benefit of hindsight, there are situations and events and indeed some people I would’ve approached very differently but regrets and “what ifs” are futile.

Good, bad or plain indifferent, these experiences have shaped my identity, world view. Lessons learned form the basis for better decision making and relationships, whether these are business or of a more intimate nature.   

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.  

Lotions, Potions & Forward Motions

So there I was having a furtive wander round cyberspace following a hunch about badge engineered high power lighting systems when Delkin’s wingman should slip under my radar. A marque better known for electronic data storage, 8mpxle still camera mode, full 1080hd, waterproof casing and compliment of mounts merited closer inspection. 

Build quality and maiden voyages with it strapped to my bonce n’ bars appear promising but the next few weeks will determine its worth as a documentary film-making tool.

Generally speaking, I’ve got along very cheerfully with Finish line’s range of lubes n’ potions and their ceramic wax is no exception. As the name suggests, it’s one of the super runny genre designed to keep transmissions silent and spotlessly clean.

In keeping with several broadly comparable formulas, we’ve a set of petrochemicals that traffic fluro polymer lubricant deep within the links, while Boron nitride serves as a thickener preventing it being washed away come the first puddle. Ceramics, regardless of incarnation seem to require a two stage curing process.

Having performed the usual chain cleaning routine; drizzle it on while holding an old rag/kitchen paper beneath to catch any overspill, thus avoiding wastage and side-stepping domestic disharmony. Allow fifteen minutes (overnight when the mercury drops) for the solvent to evaporate and hope your neighbour doesn’t choose this moment to toss the dying embers of his/her roll/up/joint/ Cuban cigar over the fence-like the sticker says, its flammable with a capital F.

Performance is reassuringly impressive, from the first few pedal strokes, the drivetrain feels notably slicker and I’ve managed 170 road miles between reapplications. This obviously takes a dip when things turn torrentially soggy but nonetheless there’s no ruinously sludgy grinding paste to deal with and top-ups simply require cursory wiping of the sideplates and where appropriate jockey wheels. In common with White lightning’s epic ride, it can be used on other metal on metal surfaces, including cleat release mechanisms but steer clear of cables, or prepare for water displacer surgery.

Speaking of which, I’m always excited when I see home grown products and Lancashire based Brite ride are a small but dedicated brand seeking to improve on existing products. They’ve sent me their foaming bike wash and some maintenance spray. Bike shops are literally groaning under the weight of these and it’s a wonder sometimes we’re not swept under and avalanche every time we nip across their thresholds.

 However, these were crafted to their specification in an attempt to create something road specific. Green oil’s citrus based blend remains my all-time favourite but that aside, I’ve found the majority are justly aimed at mountain bike audiences, who are subjected to a different sort of gloop.

Road salt and other tarmac borne contaminant usually requires more intensive tickling before finally flaking away from rippling TIG welds, fork crowns and chainstays. Brite ride seem to have cracked this particular conundrum with a more intense foaming solution, accentuated by a clever stimulant trigger nozzle. 

The maintenance spray is suspiciously close to a household name- these are basically designed with a light Teflon blend that lubricates, polishes and protects, thus popular for post wash blow-overs and seasonal hibernations but the thin protective layer still attracts thin films of grime.              

Madison, finish line’s UK importers have also sent Shimano’s dual sided A530, which feature a SPD mechanism on one side and on the flip side, a beefy (93x78mm) anodised aluminium platform. Less aggressive than their M230 mountain bike siblings, the ridged and slightly concave surface loses out in terms of cornering prowess-especially making quick turns in tediously slow town centre traffic but is great for quick dab-downs and entertains street shoes should need/preference arise.

Weather sealed cup and cone bearings bode well for longevity and puts them a nose ahead of equally worthy pattern models for longer touring/ in remote regions since genuine Shimano spares are much easier to come by.Talk of simplicity-their cleats shed gloop remarkably expediently for road biased versions while exposed tension screws make adjustments a breeze using stubby 3mm multi-tool bits. 

Their arrival signalled a few early (22^nd) birthday treats for the Teenage Dream. Gone are the venerable magnesium Genetix keo patterns; replaced by the A520, entertaining recessed cleats and better agility sans bike. For  now, the Prolite Cles’ saddle sits pride of place atop the exquisitely machined layback Thompson post, though I’m tempted to transplant in favour of Spa cycles classic Aire. Ditto the bar wrap, although with a generous shampooing with Green Oil bike wash, the grey Lizard Skins DSP has rejuvenated handsomely. 

Undeniably quaint by modern standards (22 years old in August), it remains a firm favourite with me. Time for some summer evening back road scratching and at the other extreme, to cast a critical eye over few balance bikes…