Salvage

After several attempts with Southern scrappies, I managed to persuade a Midlands based vehicle dismantler to let me photograph his yard in action. Arriving with steel toes, hi-viz jacket and assurances I would take only my images met with surprisingly little resistance.

Fiats, Alfa Romeo, Vauxhall and even the odd X type Jaguar sat in neat piles, their empty bodies squashed like discarded soft drinks cans. Teenage lads peered inside elderly Nissan Micras (not the most obvious Yoof wagons!); while I pondered the lives of three mk1 Ka stacked nearby and pressed the shutter at desired intervals.

Rediscovery of my Cyclo tyre removal and fitting tool’s replacement head has spelt an end to tyre torment and prompted the resurrection of these26x2.1 Kenda Small block eight for some off the beaten track fun with the Geonaute.

As their name suggests, the small block 8 are a closely spaced knobbly designed for optimal speed and control across hard surfaces with operating range between 30 and 80psi. They’ll quickly clog and become slicks in gloopy mud but this was academic given full-length mudguards preclude anything trickier than dry woodland trails.

Said tubby tourer’s drivetrain has also developed a phantom squeak. Crank arms are tight, chain properly dressed (in Muc-Off Hydrodynamic lube, which has evolved into a seemingly hygienic wet potion these past 120 mixed terrain miles). Definitely not those Time ATAC pedals but rotating the cranks suggests the fit n’ forget UN55 bottom bracket might be culpable.

Not obvious sources of grief, since these (and their UN52/54 predecessors) enjoy legendary reliability-10,000 miles or more in some cases). Faulty seals/bearings are possible, albeit unlikely since I avoid jet washing like the plague. Will monitor for now and may even plump for an FSA or Stronglight next time round.  

Things they say; happen for a reason and while wrestling with the anaconda that is writer’s block, I sought solace in my austere, though practical concrete plot known affectionately as the Soviet block and began testing the degreasant claims of some bike wash formulas. Experience leads me to conclude that concentrates harness best-of both worlds performance, though require careful alchemy.

Pre-mixed blends are generally bang on for speedy cleaning of non/organic stuff thrown up from the roads and trails but their neutrality to all frame materials and finishes means they can’t cut through the sort of congealed claggy grot harboured by winter/fixed/cross and mountain bikes fed tenacious ceramic or even, old school wet lubes.

Common sense dictates starting with the bike’s transmission; otherwise you’ll just coat the rear triangle in mucky spatter and smear it over the frame. Therefore, I decided to whip out the Ilpompino’s rear wheel for minimal faff. Good thing I did –closer inspection of the 32mm Kenda Kwicker Bitumen revealed the iron cap casing was riddled with flints that could induce puncture of epic, tube-binning proportions!  

Murphy’s Law reasons this would strike several miles from home on a wet and windy night. The casing is reparable and I will fashion two boots from offcuts of scrap tyre at a more convenient moment.Generally speaking, 32mm is the limit with full length mudguards but being a slick, a 35mm Vittoria Voyager Hyper fits without touching anything-just, we are talking tighter than a hipster’s trousers.

Some WD40 drivetrain degreaser had arrived during the week and having achieved predictably lacklustre results using two generic bike washes; I shook, aimed and fired in two short blasts. Several months’ congealed gunk ran like mascara from the stainless steel track sprockets. Breathtakingly quick, though cautions suggest minimising contact with seals and similar rubberised/plastics.

Then of course, after several years’ faithful service, the pressure gauge on my Revolution floor pump is singing its swan-song and this rather likeable Axiom multi-tool literally blew its guts while slumbering in my rack bag. Again, I’ll attempt reconstructive surgery shortly but thankfully, Axiom offers original purchasers a lifetime warrantee against manufacturing defect.

Integral gauges tend to be the Achilles’ heel of budget track pumps, which generally soldier on for several years before heading up to that great bike shop in the sky. Standalone gauges are more reliable in any case.

Spring may have brought longer evenings but the advent of some much needed temping means tweaking one’s ride schedule. Time to resurrect the big guns for spirited back road blasting methinks…

Good Housekeeping

Prevention is always better than cure, although the latter sometimes serves as timely reminder. After several rides in Monsoon conditions, a tell-tale gritty rasping when braking confirmed the Ilpompino needed more than superficial cat lick.

Consistently mild temperatures has seen my home brewed corrosion preserve continue to ooze from the bottom bracket shell, resulting in a sticky mess adorning the System EX cranksets’ inner spider and ring.

Staying on this subject a mo, I’m increasing impressed with Pro Gold Steel Frame protector, which seemingly leaches into the host metal in a similar fashion to J.P. WEIGLE’s legendary “framesaver”.These properties theoretically offer the most comprehensive protection, especially to painfully thin steels such as 531c. 

Using different blends of lubricant leads me to suggest while phenomenally corrosin resistant the KMC X1’s slippery stainless steel construction actively encourages migration from its inner rollers to outer plates and hub cones, thus compounding said gooey syndrome. This song remains consistent across the board, whether fortified with PTFE, two-part synthetic or various weights derived from vegetable stock.

Many standard bike washes are too insipid and their concentrates too harsh for tackling this sort of accumulated filth, especially on carbon/composites and similarly delicate finishes. 

Given this backdrop, I was surprised at just how effective Fenwick’s FS1 is.Regular readers will be aware that traditional types can prove quite hostile to humanoid operative and recipients alike.  However, while understandably tight lipped about precise chemistry, Fenwick’s tell me their biodegradable, solvent free blend is so mild, some mechanics use it as hand cleanser.

Just the same and without being unduly alarmist, I’m inclined to don latex examination gloves or at least minimise contact with anything of this ilk, given the experiences of friends and forbearers within manufacturing.

With this in mind, I decanted 50% concentrate into a little pump spray receptacle, diluting it with fresh water, sourced from my rain butt. Prince Buster was right; if you have your brush you can avoid the rush. Several blasts and three minutes standing time hence, tyre and rim sidewalls were truly ship-shape.       


Ever since the storms of October 1987, UK forecasters have been presenting the worse- case scenarios. Some suggested the tail end of Hurricane Gonzalo would herald early snow. It’s certainly been blowy and I’ve been grateful for the Univega’s dependable handling and moderate to low gear ratios, though I’ll postpone fitment of Schwalbe Winter tyres for a while yet. Handlebars and other contact points/accessories have been sprouting a fresh batch of blinkies.

There’s more than passing similarities between this Lucas, One 23 Atom and RSP Spectre enticing suggestion that these are the same unit but with different badges. Indeed, give or take a minute or two, they charge in the same timescales, produce 40 surprisingly potent lumens apiece and all integrate lens and switch for “sausage-finger” convenience.

Arguably a modern take on the bobby-dodger, there’s a steady trickle of “bridge” models filling the gap between these and traditional commuter lamps surprisingly well, reclaiming a whole heap of handlebar into the bargain.     

Boasting 300lumens each, Knog Blinder Road 3 and One23 have saved my bacon on several occasions-when I’ve been gassing with friends on summer evenings, or uncharacteristically nonchalant when charging big guns. However, running them at top whack quickly exhausts their lithium polymer cells-hardly ideal for use as primary lighting for commuting or training.


Not that it has stopped some sycophantic sorts rehashing press releases to the point where they’d have us believe this genre are genuinely powerful enough for warp-speed trail duties!  On that note, Muc-Off has sent me this X-3 dirty chain machine to play with, so I’m going on a virtuous purge of the fleet, introducing some super stubborn prep before November’s knock becomes louder.           

Tarnished Repute

Yes, the inclement weather has made a return but with plenty of advanced warning and roads drenched in salt. Mercifully I’d spent the previous weeks putting kit through its paces with a view to working a balance between copy, books and the ceaseless struggle to find sensibly satisfying temp gigs in parallel…

I love blinkies, particularly those offering something different, whether it’s retina-tickling prowess, cell sipping economy or indeed both. One23’s half- watt high power unit is a very good example.

Watts are very misleading since this is a measure of power consumed rather than deliverable output but pedantry aside; we’ve been visible from around 750 metres-maybe more on a clear night. This coupled with decent weather seals (passed my saltwater submersion test with flying colours) is all the more impressive from a model giving change from £12.

On many levels, lights and similar gizmos that guzzle from portable devices are absolutely fabulous but lets’ not loose sight of the horses for courses mantra. Those fuelled by two little AA cells and returning 60-80hrs in flashing mode can be superior choices for tourists, Audax aficionados, not to mention commuters who don’t clock on at a PC.

So then, the past two hundred and fifty miles or so leads me to conclude that the Ilpompino’s front-end conversion was by far the best upgrade, bringing a supple yet more vivacious persona to what is essentially a cyclo cross frameset with track ends and 120mm track spacing.

I’ve also decided to revisit  fendersville, retaining a dry derriere’ while keeping salt, slush and other corrosive brews from making inroads into paint, anodising and bearing surfaces. These 37mm section Tortec seem an obvious choice with their heavy-duty chrome plastics, reflective sidewalls and stainless steel components. Their epic rack; also fashioned from the tarnish resistant metal and reckoned to have a mammoth 40-kilo payload will be put through its paces aboard the Univega.

Tarnish resistant…you mean to say stainless can succumb to the dreaded fur too?  In the sense that watches are water resistant (as distinct from proof) to 30, 100, 300metres etc, Inox as its sometimes known is in fact an alloy, typically containing12% chromium, nickel, molybdenum and sometimes titanium oxides, ergo it stains-less than cruder steels. Welding will prove trickier for roadside garages compared with plain gauge mild or Cro-moly should disaster strike in the wide blue yonder too, although this is considerably easier than aluminium.

I have a well-honed hatred of corrosion stemming from watching my childhood clunkers turning furry in the salt coastal air and of course my grandfathers’ almost pathological ability to find traces of this welder’s foe literally everywhere-especially from beneath parental vehicles.

Such neurosis was not welcomed, not least by my father who appeared close to boiling point on many occasions during these puritanical outbursts reminiscent of a bad horror flick where the demented priest is commanding iron oxide from spot welded sections, er sorry, I mean malevolent spirit from an innocent child/hapless housewife/tearaway teens.

Monsters, demons and folklore are all embodiments of fears- conscious latent or otherwise and Joshua’s been developing that pre pubescent fascination for sci-fi/ horror-genres that I still have a fondness for, so can converse widely with him about while maintaining effective censorship.

Cycling’s own particular boogie man of the moment is Lance Armstrong, who having groomed the world and fallen from grace is looking to reinvent his empire with some shrewdly executed bargaining and carefully choreographed remorse.

While never buying into the fairytale, professionally I’ve found his hegemonic grip upon the cycling imagination fascinating and privately believe his competitive success was motivated by  a longer term desire for political prowess. Aside from the obvious sporting scandal, these particular exposes' have the potential to oust cycling from the Olympics.

Some are citing Paul Kimmage’s notorious participant observations/revelations that doping is virtually institutionalised and rather than racing becoming cleaner, performance enhancers have simply become more sophisticated and for a time therefore, undetectable.

Life experience, coupled with that as a columnist/writer leads me to suggest this is quite likely on the one hand but it does leave the door open for those exposed in such a public way to project themselves as victims to be pitied. Are they sorry for being cheats, or ashamed at their exposure?

The notion of a single universal truth has been somewhat eclipsed by truths, which have varying degrees of accuracy-accounts will differ depending on the narrator. An institutionalised culture of doping may well play a lead role. However, to suggest everyone is actively (or passively) engaged in such behaviours is somewhat simplistic and therefore inaccurate.

Public perception of professional cycling is undeniably tainted, which is not the case for other sports such as boxing or soccer. In a wider context, pro-military propaganda paints all service people as heroes/ victims, whereas in reality some will also indulge in rape, torture, extortion and similar gross inhumanities because they can. Others who have served in Bosnia/similar conflicts remark how the army taught them how to kill but not to deal with the emotional consequences. By the same token, many, many leave the services perfectly well adjusted with nothing more sinister than tall-tales and fond memories.

My point being, whatever the setting, conformity is expected within certain parameters but simplistic knee jerk reductionism neither explains, nor addresses extremely complex matters. Perhaps these revelations are so emotive because they challenge our own framework of absolutes….