Showing posts with label urban exploration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label urban exploration. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 June 2012

Within my grasp






A mysterious spoke breakage on the Univega’s front hoop had both myself and Alan at Riverside cycles scratching our heads- I hadn’t plunged headlong into any holes, ruts or similar surface imperfection, evidenced by the fact it was still running perfectly true. However, he slotted in a replacement at a moment’s notice before going on a week’s holidays. Elsewhere, that Cinelli Caleido handlebar wrap has delighted on so many levels. Something of a curiosity, performance is on par with the ultra sophisticated polymer types, yet much easier to live with-spillages of energy drinks and similar beverages are easily chased away with a soft bike brush dipped in a bucket of mild sudsy water, without fear of stripping space age coatings, thus ruining all- weather grip.

Application is a little more involved than traditional corks though and the every so slightly rubberised leatherette material benefits from being left near controlled surfaces of heat, while you strip the existing coverings and gungy residue from the bars. This technique makes it all the more maulable for classic, swooping overlap. There’s plenty of it mind, even the Univega’s prodigious WTB drops allowed for some bespoke double ups for the last word in shock absorption, while powerful adhesives prevent your artistry unravelling as you reach for the finishing strips.

By the same token, it seems very tolerant of being rewound-at least during installation so perfectionists needn’t fret. Suffice to say, I’ve notched up fifty miles plus in bare hands, without so much as a hint of tingling, let alone more pronounced discomfort.

On the subject of mitts came the promise some beautifully crafted classics from Dromati. Evocative of those 60’s heroes powering up the dolomites on Peugeot PX10s, it came as pleasant surprise to discover they’re actually handcrafted in Surrey, a region in the UK more famous for its stockbrokers, rather than craftspeople.

Devoid of Ulnar defending blobs, or similar contemporary sensibilities they’re comprised of lightly padded cognac brown Nappa hide palms laced to knitted crochet backs- beautifully executed and priced to suit. Sure you could have the look for considerably less-cheaper materials, manufactured in southern Asia but this propagates so many unwelcome notions, demeaning traditional skills and legitimising sweatshop practices within developing countries.

After a brief interlude and some obvious calming of my scorched arms, the damp and dreary summer has reinstated itself, presenting excellent test conditions-especially for chain lubes and maintenance sprays, while washing local council hopefuls to my doorstep.

On the one hand, I come from a highly politicised linage and am pleased to see sustained interest in politics at a localised grass-roots level but on the other, their lack of underlying direction proved irksome and I had chapters to compose and other work to bid for. Another steady gig or two would be very welcome at the moment. I’ve been going through bouts of chronic block and phenomenal productivity at the moment, especially with the book and sometimes, good discipline is confused with staring at a screen.

During the down periods, I’ve been visiting locally derelict sites (within forty miles) and drawing inspiration, trying not to attract attention or be confused with metal thieves-a perennial problem around industrial compounds and a far cry from the days when children played in the bombed out shells of post war Britain’s inner cities. Such ruins were often credited with launching the careers of photography’s “black circle” during the 1960s- the most famous being David Bailey. While genuinely in awe of his creativity, hold a greater affinity with Terrance Donovan.

Both grew up just a few miles from each other (Newham and Tower Hamlets respectively) but sadly, while Donovan enjoyed measurable commercial recognition, he suffered from depression and consequently took his own life. Depression, rather akin to dyslexia is one of those phrases oft over used, little understood and heavily stigmatised. Granted, we all feel low from time to time and I’ve no problem with this in so long as it’s a passing phase, proving the catalyst for more positive outputs/outpourings. However, the genuine article is an entirely different thing.

To sunnier topics now and the new season’s lighting systems are slowly but surely coming on stream. Moore large have sent me some of their aptly named and super cheerful Torch blinkies, while Raleigh passed these rechargeable Moon comet, which enjoy a comprehensive range of very powerful settings. For the piers de resistance, Magicshine have dropped in their MJ880 2000 lumen and an even more powerful My Tiny Sun. Both are beautifully made and whose names imply Chinese heritage, although the latter is actually lovingly crafted in Germany. Now without further ado, I’m off to charge up and test these beauties and probably contemplate my own place in the universe.







Sunday, 3 June 2012

Beating a Retreat




Sometimes, enforced leave's the best way to remain focused and moreover productive. Bang up to date with immediate deadlines and other planned works, I took a few days away from the keyboard to photograph petty women against gritty backdrops of urban and coastal decay. Had to do a fair bit of bobby dodging since police and private security firms are very prone to overzealous and dare I say, aggressive misinterpretation of anti terror legislation. On the flip side, there are those who do not help themselves, gaining access to buildings under the misconception that trespass is as serious as things will get, when in fact breaking and entering or indeed, criminal damage is more probable.

Sites of medical/industrial origin present other hazards including asbestos, pigeon faeces, biological/chemical pollution. Depending on their location, squatting and all that it attracts can prove a very dangerous cocktail. Some years ago, I happened upon an abandoned house in one of London’s most deprived districts. A trail of scorched silver foil blowing about this particular tenement was a clear indicator of what awaited me as I zipped through an adjoining alley leading to what remained of the back door…A couple, probably in their early twenties were desperately chasing another hit of heroin-it was to be their last. I took three shots through a 50-200mm lens before slipping into the high rd.  

Having prepped the Univega prior my departure, I noted a few fresh chips in its somewhat delicate flamboyant red enamel. Mercifully, a quick scout around Superdrug uncovered the perfect touch up stick-yep; nail varnish to the rest of us. Aside from pillar-box or Coca Cola, first-rate retouching of reds, especially those of the metallic persuasion is notoriously difficult. This particular brand dries in sixty seconds but I’ve applied two or three thin coats before allowing them to cure overnight.

On the subject of refinishing, the otherwise tough satin powder coat finish adorning the beefy expedition rack is beginning to tire slightly where panniers and other luggage sit so I’m toying with having it blasted clean and given a colour-coordinated rebirth. The other alternative is a phenomenally resilient industrial treatment known as plasti-coat. Applied in the same fashion as powder its commonly used on wrought ironwork and similar ferrous metals left in the most challenging environments. Given its notorious difficult removal –even with extensive chemical assistance, the faintest trace on threaded sections spells disaster so you’d never apply it to a frameset… Were I to take this route, I’d also ask if they’d mind passing this simple tune up stand through at the same time since the existing paint is firmly in dip n’ hope territory.

In the meantime, Rory at Upgrade has been kind enough to send me a bundle of goodies including Lezyne’s power rack elite-a beautifully executed TIG welded aluminium affair complete with 25 kilo maximum payload, this rather fetching, long handled pedal rod and Microshift Sti brifters. The latter are nine, as opposed to eight-speed, short reach examples heralding the Ultegra bar cons’ retirement and more or less completing the tubby tourer’s road biased, yet trail friendly evolution. Despite sporting an extra click, these index perfectly with eight while rivalling Tiagra in performance stakes. Elsewhere, a garage gremlin appears to have gobbled all my open ended ten millimetre wrenches-the sort perfect for nipping old school cantilever brake pads snug. Thankfully, much rummaging unearthed one of those awful but will- do- in- a- pinch giveaway types.


Product testing forms a major part of my work and these days it’s genuinely rare to find bad ones per se. Sure the odd howler, or rogue model crops up from time to time, sometimes with hilarious consequences. Most recently and falling into the latter camp was this otherwise super cheery house branded waterproof day pannier, ideally suited to quick release, post mounted racks. Swooping through the deserted backwaters with only a gentle breeze, moonlight and furtive scurrying emanating from the hedgerows for company, I was compiling a mental list of priorities when a blood-curdling rip as the pannier’s mounting hardware parted company with the weatherproof fabric tore through my serenity!

A modest cargo consisting of armoured cable lock, tyre levers, patch kit, spare tube, multi tool, pump, Co2 inflator, cable ties and compact camera hardly constitutes overloading but thankfully, the humble plastic ties were up to the job of lashing everything together, allowing me to complete the ride, albeit with one ear attune to further, untimely demise.

Naturally, I reported this to the distributor who are determining whether its an isolated fluke or symptomatic of a sub standard batch. Then came a trio of track pumps, which Joshua helpfully proclaimed looked like detonators, doubtless intensifying neighbourly suspicion. Lest I forget to seat a 700x23 tyre and tube properly, resulting in an ear shattering din otherwise those poor darlings will scatter beneath dining room tables, some hands on heads, others with the home office on speed dial…