It started with a hiss…Aka The Blow out special

Not, not the sort inducing squeals of delight at the prospect of treating oneself to end of season kit at a serious discount, I’m referring to those inducing heavy hearts and fevered pannier/wedge pack rummaging for tyre levers, spare tubes and/or patch kit. Sources suggest we’ve had a months’ rain in a matter of days, slightly ironic given the hosepipe ban currently enforced here in the UK. A quick wander around the web brought me to the central Asian republic of Uzbekistan, it wasn’t long into a late afternoon meander before my mind adventured to faraway lands, their people, the culture, architecture all captured via compact system camera and successive memory cards. Swooping into a left-hand bend coincided with torrential cloudburst as water cascaded from the saturated fields, washing silt, shards of glass and other debris across the single moderately surfaced carriageway.

A gritty sound suggested some had begun clogging the Univega’s portly expedition rubber but before I could draw to a halt and purge its water channelling grooves, sharps ripped through the Kevlar casings and burrowed through thorn resistant tubes with a sickening hiss. Holed up in an empty field, I began rummaging in panniers for the first aid kit-spare tube, patch kit, tyre levers, pump etc. Cursing myself for leaving the Co2 inflator indoors, mercifully 550 strokes from the PDW frame fit brought us 80psi and back on the road. However jubilation proved short-lived with a further two glass torpedoes infiltrating the tyre’s armoured casing. Moral sinking quicker than said carcass, I was yards from Uncle Benny’s so wheeled us to the shelter of his veranda. 

In stark contrast to our relatively private personas, we have an unspoken, open house philosophy towards each other, having grown up in the same street. It wasn’t long before coffee, cake, sympathy and a very welcome track pump was placed beside me. Intermittent chat and banter suggested the stem on his road bike left him stretched that twenty millimetres too far.

By my reckoning a 90 should restore a sense of equilibrium. Tubes patched and tyre emergency booted, I swung a leg over the Univega’s top tube and beat a hasty retreat before Mother Nature could unleash another round of thunder, lighting and monsoon rain reminiscent of those opening scenes in An American Werewolf in London. Fifteen minutes later we’d made it home and had begun swapping tyres, consigning the rear Schwalbe to my cannibalise pile, swapping the front to the rear and refitting a 1.75 section Michelin to the front. Convinced I’d solved the problem, I popped out the next afternoon for a quick fifteen miles…

Subversive Streak

Well the present administration, despite being so openly critical of police states and similarly repressive regimes seems determined to snoop with free abandon on the email, skype, Internet, text and telephone activities of everyone in the UK. Some folk have retaliated by infiltrating government websites or being party to other civil disobedience. Tongue firmly in cheek, I have chosen to procure a transcript of Mr Gadaffi’s Little “Green Book”. Rather akin to the ancient Sanskrit texts and Antonio Gramschi’s prison notebooks, its authenticity is somewhat questionable but interesting nonetheless. By the same token, surveillance is hardly a modern phenomenon in this country-the authorities monitored many, many people (including my late father) through the late 1950s and beyond. Many cold war installations, thought to be dormant and abandoned were anything but… Further afield, Poland and neighbouring countries are dotted with mysterious ex military bases, which I’ve always yearned to photograph but for reason or other haven’t had the opportunity. Time to badger family in these regions more convincingly perhaps…

As for Muammar, he has little to say on the subject of riding fixed, let alone perfect chainline- a shame since some gut wrenching sounds emanating from the Ilpompino’s newly appointed Gusset implied a rogue or stiff link. Stopping at a convenient point by the roadside, I whipped out the Ice tools wrench, slackened the track nuts and drew the wheel further back along the frame ends, improving chain tension-restoring serene silence and rider confidence. Cantering up to 25mph, we rejoiced in the near empty lanes and chill, spring sunshine. Dyed in the wool traditionalists will justly remark that the S link and comparable half-link brethren are notably heavier than the Miche it replaces but phenomenal rigidity is immediately apparent whether accelerating hard on the climbs, stealing away from the lights or transmission braking. For the time being, it’s dressed only in the factory drizzle, not least as thee seem notably more resilient than the aftermarket potions we put our faith in.
Elsewhere it seems there are infidels in the postal service with items taking some considerable time to arrive. Any organisation of this magnitude is likely to attract a small rogue element and the majority of postal workers are as honest as the day is long. However, things are likely to worsen thanks to widespread use of email, fax and courier services and the apparent inevitability of privatisation. Raleigh have sent me a delightful book celebrating the marques 125-year history. Some have said the brand lost out to sexier marketing but their specialist division produced some iconic top-drawer mounts through the 70s, 80’s and 90s.

Ridden to victory by professional teams, frames carried other manufacturer's decals too. Raleigh also brought Univega to these shores for a short while, although I’ve always enjoyed importing unusual frames, components and clothing from overseas for personal consumption.

Talking of the tubby ruby red tourer, something wasn’t right as I twiddled along the climbs recently. With the crank at the bottom stroke, my legs appeared correctly extended. As the miles clicked by, my suspicions were aroused-the new seat collar’s binder bolt had stretched minutely, allowing the post to creep frustratingly inside the seat tube, marking the dun finish slightly-nothing serious and easily hidden but annoying nonetheless... Shame 400mm carbon posts don’t come in 26.0 diameter. Slackening said bolt and raising the post (with contrasting zip tie marker) by fourteen millimetres and nipping everything tight with the torque wrench solved that issue and prompted a wholesale checking of its other fasteners. Want has a set of eight- speed Microshift or Sun Race brifters in its sights but need suggests another thousand miles, or ten weeks will call for a replacement bottom bracket. Only the front mech, Ultegra bar cons and headset remain of the original build. Wondering how many Alpina 506 are still whizzing along the highways and byways and moreover, in what guises, I had a quick sprint around the web, confirming a high OEM spec (Deore LX/XT) back in the day, with a few pleasingly updated in cross country mtb dress but nothing more intriguing.

Dropping down to Dovercourt

Easter was once a time when folk would heed the call to Church, feasting and prayer. Now, the masses descend upon DIY stores in their millions, partaking in an orgy of frenzied bodging-whether painting the spare room, erecting pagodas, paths and patios or attempting full-on domestic re-wires. Accident/Emergency receptions brim with hapless heroes, who’ve discovered the human body is a mightily efficient conductor of electricity, dropped paving slabs on their sneakered feet or nailed themselves to the flat pack furniture they were trying so desperately to erect. Joshua and I took the opportunity to drop by on Justin Burls and take a sneak peak at those lovely fillet brazed prototype framesets I mentioned a while back. Both are fashioned from a lovely Columbus tubeset topped off in either electric blue or rich, ruby red. Construction is, as might be expected, flawless-evidenced by this road fixer chassis finished in a clear lacquer topcoat, that will no doubt catch on amongst the fixer fashionista. Timing (Justin had just returned from the Bespoke Bristol show) and the weather conspired against a preliminary spin but for now I’ll tease you with a few photos….
My own fleet continues to evolve, courtesy the Ilpompino's new S-Link chain and a very swish locking seatpost collar for the Univega. Now, the latter are built to order from aerospace grade titanium by Atomic 22- a small-scale manufacturer based in Horsham, West Sussex. This kit is unique, not only in terms of materials but in that they can produce locking fasteners for pretty much every component on your bike, whether road, fixed or mountain bike, brifters, brake mounts, pedals, derailleurs, crank bolts, you name it, they can protect it. Fitting is best performed using a good quality torque wrench and 8mm socket but a ring spanner will also do the trick, since most of us don’t pop torque wrenches in with the patch kit when heading out for a quick twenty-mile blast.
Early impressions are good, although I’ve had an attack of the vapours on several occasions, trying desperately to reclaim the tiny unique key from beneath the fridge/freezer. Obviously replacements are available (£30 each) and much easier to obtain since keys are automatically registered to the rightful owner at the time of order. Presently, they’re looking to employ alternative metals without compromising strength, thus lowering the cost and broadening appeal. However, it’s no substitute for a decent lock, insurance and similarly sensible precautions since a truly frustrated Neanderthal could wrap your pride and joy around some street furniture…

Theft, particularly of metals and central heating fuels is becoming endemic and almost normalised by the present economic climate but I find these rationale's a very convenient justification for wantonly criminal behaviour. A friend’s storage barn was recently ransacked of copper piping and similar raw materials associated with his plumbing and heating business. Subsequently, he spent a day making effective repair and relocating a project car and essential tooling for fear of subsequent visitation. A happier re-homing came for my faithful Specialized Air Tool track pump; this now resides with my mother and her partner’s bikes. I had a choice of two replacements, including this super sturdy twin barrel Zefal, albeit with defunct pressure gauge.
Back in the saddle and there’s been lots to play with. That BBB chain and cassette seem to be wonderful bedfellows with the Univega’s a’la Carte drivetrain, not so much as missing a shift in four hundred miles. Quality of electroplating appears equally impressive and the factory marinade tenacious for the first two hundred but I’ve since reverted to a wax based dressing. Then came these aptly named Knog Blinder, which belt out a whopping eighty and forty-four lumens respectively. Gone is the iconic medical silicone in favour of anodised aluminium faces and a choice of five funky lighting patterns.
We’ve got the standard “dice” but noughts; crosses, stripes and arrows are the alternatives. Tipping the scales at thirty-five grams a piece, they’re hardly going to cramp the style of even the sleekest of road/fixers either. Performance seems generally impressive, visible in the "bobby-dodger" see-by sense to around 750 metres and rechargeable run times between two hours fifty three and 78.47 hours in top and eco-flash settings respectively. Overall, aside from the slightly swanky price tag, I’m genuinely very impressed and the quality has been tweaked a notch or so higher than the otherwise loveable silicone types too…Back to the book…




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The trials and tribulations of the terrible triple…

Journeying through the mists of time, I recall a misspent youth cum school career with afternoons' spent sneakily pouring over the cycling press of that era. Enticed away from teachers’ dull and seemingly irrelevant pontification about their wife’s IUD, the world of work etc by the romance of faraway lands and their people. Obviously, this experience was aboard a heavily laden, ultra refined expedition tourer complete with top drawer tubing and cutting edge, mtb drivetrains with enough gears to ride up, down and along the Great Wall of China. Panniers bulged with magnesium bodied film SLR camera, lenses, rolls and rolls of film, pens and notebooks all documenting this adventure for press and publisher. Paragraphs from the buyers’ guides were quick to point out that keeping triple configurations in consistently rude year round health was something of a chore. Fast-forward twenty-four years and several configurations later; I’m inclined to agree. The most recent dig in the ribs came courtesy of the Sun Race chain’s unexpected breakage. Thoughtfully (In common with recently documented punctures) it had the good grace to expire at journey’s end, some hundred metres from my front door-not the back of beyond. Much soul searching gave way to opportunity. Time to strip, replace and perhaps reconfigure the tubby tourer’s drivetrain.

For starters I’ve introduced a New Shimano pattern nickel plated BBB chain and cassette to see how these shape up and a quick tweak of the front mech cable has righted the temperamental will it, won’t it clamber aboard the big ring. Continuing the health check suggests the rear LX is in early middle age, so aside from a cursory turn of the B tension screw and some very judicious lubrication cable and pivot points, it’ll remain in gainful employment. I am thinking of retiring the Ultegra bar cons in favour of “Brifters”. Shimano’s venerable Sora seem prime candidates since I don’t run linear pulls and received wisdom suggests in daily service, their operational lives are around the four, maybe five year mark.

My MTB based crosser cum working bike was initially conceived with Modolo Morphus units that were tuneable for either Shimano or Campagnolo seven/eight speed configurations. Bought as a bundle (bars, levers & wrap) for sixty odd quid, modulation and feel were excellent, although shifts clunky by modern standards even with an LX mech STX crankset and 11-19 straight through block. Brifters have the obvious vulnerabilities in the event of a nasty tumble but since my purebred crosser manages just fine I’m looking forward to introducing a set of suitable Microshift. In common with similar emergent brands, performance and pricing are ear- to- ear grin impressive on a scale reminiscent of Kawasaki and Honda’s impact upon the all but defunct British motorcycle industry back in the mid1970s.
There’s two variants-double and triple and I’m wondering how the left lever will cope with the 42, 32,22 Alivio rings since Microshift recommends 52,42,30. In practice and with a smattering of blind faith I’m hoping some divine influence will look kindly upon this here world-weary journo and a’la Carte drivetrain. Enforced leave from variable gears, coupled with the picture postcard spring weather presented the ideal opportunity for long, steady, reflective outings aboard the Ilpompino. I could pontificate ad pretentious nauseam about the Zen-like qualities of fixed and its ability to lift one into a meditative state but this is all deeply passé’ hipster-speak and there’s been no requirement on my part to appease this particular mindset, whether it be cycling or unrelated politic. Cliché’ might be truth in a processed and deeply over-simplistic form but its an irritant and something to be avoided at all costs.

Both book projects continue to gather momentum, albeit at different rates but there’s no room for complacency. My approach varies from a relentless need for progression during the week and being in the zone can mean simply typing during the day, editing at night or alternating between business emails, regular copy and book depending on which is most productive at that moment in time. Having organised drivetrain consumerables, I found myself galvanised into writing a related feature, which In turn lead to a thousand words or so invested in the cycling book and some serendipitous conversation with a distributor offering further inroads into the other book. Time waits for no man (sic) no favours has he.

Facts & Figures

A break in the weather has allowed intensive testing of those Vaude Birch three quarter length pants and in the main I’m mightily impressed not least by their cut, style and practicality. The fabric is also impregnated with a (factor 50) sunscreen designed to protect rider and garment from the undesirable side- effects of UV rays but removable OEM inserts were a distinct disappointment, showing a marked tendency for bunching up uncomfortably within a matter of miles-not what I’d expect at this end of the market. Mercifully, substituting them for stand-alone eight panel designs has allowed me to churn along in serene comfort for several consecutive hours. Our metallic versions looked razor sharp with the Bontrager jacket but they’re also available in “Shadow” or black and in a women specific design as appropriate.
Inspecting the Univega’s heavy duty Gusset GS 8 chain using the Freedom Sports (KMC) digital gauge gave a reading of 0.65, indicating late middle age and like- for- like replacement before 0.80 signals pension day or worse still, cassette and chain-ring cannibalism. Despite constant exposure to the elements, there’s been no hint of corrosion in the last three thousand miles (twelve hundred above average), which I attribute to greater girth and a staple diet of self-cleansing, wax type lubes.

Ison distribution, Gusset’s UK importer advises they are awaiting a fresh consignment so a chance conversation with another distributor has seen this nickel plated Sun Race flutter through my letterbox. I’ve been seriously impressed by the emergent marques’ higher end road and mountain bike drivetrains which are easily a match for 105/LX only with smaller price-tags so it’ll be interesting to see how the chain performs over the coming six months.
At face value, there’s little distinguishing the Sun Race from a glut of similar nickel-plated eight-speed designs-aside from the side-plates. 200kg per foot is pretty much on par with Shimano’s venerable PC68 and our 116 ink sample proved tailor made for the Univega’s gear ratios-straight from the packet. This made a nice change and in the interests of quitting while ahead, I employed the magic link. I’ve traditionally shyed away from these in the interests of outright durability but this particular design seems reassuringly hardy. Nonetheless, being a road model serving an a’la Carte groupset, I’ve cut a fresh set of precautionary spare links from a partially cannibalised Sachs languishing in my toolbox…

I’ve also a tendency to run new chains dressed only in the protective factory lube for a week or so before introducing something more colloquial. However, given the cassette was already clogging with the soft residue of previously applied wax, a powerful degreaser and comb through seemed the best medicine. Some folk swear by steam cleaning chains, cassettes and even rings over a hot stove. This particular lesson in home economics involves bringing a six-inch pan of water to the boil before introducing chain and a dishwasher tablet. Simmer on a medium heat for twenty minutes before performing several clean water rinses. Allow to boil completely dry, cool at room temperature before refitting and garnishing with your preferred tipple.
That said; frugality can be stretched beyond the point of practicality. Yes, cheap washing powder and redundant toothbrushes remove corrosion/tarnish from polished and plated surfaces with consummate ease but other homely remedies are firmly tongue in cheek. Several years ago, I was doing some income recovery/credit control for a classic motorcycle/salvage yard when a man in his late sixties drew up, remarking that his BSA was suffering from an unexplained misfire. Remaining straight faced, I quipped “Flush it through with cold black tea Sir”. After a brief, convivial exchange, he was gone and I attended to a pile of outstanding invoices. Two weeks later he returned, extolling the virtues of said cold tea flush! My jaw dropped and recoiled cartoon fashion-I never for one moment thought he’d be so literal in his interpretation.

The F in freelance all too frequently stands for frustration. Watched phones never ring and email replies never materialise-or so it seems but I returned from a ride to discover an interested small-scale publisher had been in contact. Naturally, once the excitement had stabilised, I sounded a warm but cautious welcome since the devil lives in the finer details and self-congratulatory/complacent attitudes are woefully misplaced. That’s all for now folks, I’m off to interview Gary Rothera and Joshua’s just commandeered my hounds tooth winter cap!

Here comes the rain again.

Falling on my head like a memory, falling on my head like a new emotion
The wind, sleet and snow showers too by the look of things, which is ironic given I had been bowling along in bright fifteen-degree sunshine and some seriously swish and summery Vaude ¾ lengths arrived in last weeks’ post. The German marque is justly revered for its waterproof luggage and technical jackets but these are arguably the most civilian messenger style trews I've seen to date. Sure, Showers Pass, Protective, Polaris and Endura are hot on their heels but to the untrained eye there’s nothing overtly “technical” to give the game away when you’ve dropped in on the accountant or commercial client. I’m itching to give them a good run, probably wearing that olive green Bontrager commuting jacket for ultimate civilian effect. Alas, with temperatures firmly in single figures, I’ll stick with the winter wardrobe and seek solace in the chic warmth of this Rothera Hounds tooth cap. Handmade in Philadelphia, Mr Rothera clearly knows his way around a sewing machine judging by the immaculate stitching and flat seams-it works better than most winter types worn beneath a helmet without compromising sensory awareness. My late father was well-versed in the art of sewing having spent the first twelve years of his working life as a serviceman, so it's heartening to see the re-emergence of these and similarly traditional skills.

Speaking of pater, he regularly mused that writing a book is about disciplining oneself to spend hours chained to a desk (and comfortable chair!) composing chapters even when you really didn’t want to. Fundamental to any creative process is the ability to plough through inspirational ruts but having settled to write one book and researching another, I’m rapidly gaining an appreciation of the stamina required. Self-motivation and freelance are inextricably linked but nonetheless; a publisher’s commission and associated deadlines would certainly bolster this momentum and dare I say, a sense of progression. Far from running away, measured in-the-saddle escape is where creative solutions germinate and combining this with some banking, I happened upon this youthful looking Raleigh Dynatec. Closer inspection suggests it’s a budget model- pressed into service as a town hack judging by the plastic pedals, missing rear mudguard and seat tube bottle screws. Something of a design classic, without the corresponding price tag, their bonded construction was a big departure from the lugged and brazed steels of the era. Paint finishes were justly revered for durability, thus making them excellent second cum training bikes. One note of caution though, the glued joints cannot withstand the heat generated in curing ovens so, makeovers will need to be of an air-drying two-pac variety. Personally I’d opt for a 5/6 or 700 model for sprightly training and its more lowly 300 sibling as a winter commu-trainer/daily driver.

At one time there appeared to be a glut of cheap but cheerful, unbranded Chinese fixer frames cropping up on London street corners. On a technical level, they weren’t particularly special-we’re talking lower end Cro-moly or 7005 series aluminium but they had an air of mystery nonetheless. Spotted a couple of flat bar builds in these parts, one olive green with tan leather grips and saddle and this satin black model. Flimsy locks, poorly used seem all the rage too. Assuming a passing thief found themselves sans croppers, they’d still come away from this Specialized with a decent set of wheels. No, I’m not being smug; I just hate the idea of rightful owners making life easy for tea-leaves.
Followers will know I suffer discomfort in my left shoulder resultant from slight physiological misalignment and the inevitable spills associated with twenty-six years on two wheels. Having experienced the exquisite hot-stones and traditional therapies, I happened upon a teaching salon charging £10 for an hour’s holistic head and full body massage. Needless to say, while the settings lack the outright luxury of high street/Spa venues, cleanliness is extremely high and newly qualified therapists seemed both competent and professional.

Ah, what’s this? Justin Burls has just invited me to a sneak peek at some lovely fillet brazed prototype framesets…Watch this space…

Double Trouble (Boom Bang a Bang)

Spring has apparently sprung early and in an effort to save money on our battle-scarred infrastructure, farmers seem encouraged to layer the roads in thick slimy dung, topped off with hedge clippings. This particularly conspiratorial brew is conducive to the dreaded hiss-even with 1.75 section mtb rubber and those otherwise ultra dependable thorn resistant tubes. Said concoction also serves as timely reminder that no matter how technically endowed your hoops, should you meet that thorn/nail/rock/pothole with your name on it, you will come unstuck. Mercifully, it took several miles for the offending sharp to pierce the tyre casing, serenading me with a slow, yet audible rush of air as we returned to base. With puncture season officially open, there appears no end to freeloaders expecting to drop their wounded butyl at my house for while u wait, free of charge repair (!). Yes, I served in a bike shop (where I learned to read people and their intentions in the blink of an eye), yes I am of a helpful disposition but I am not a charity, here for the convenience of others. Capiche! Now, this is entirely different from coming to the aid of someone stricken by the roadside-most of us have experienced the kindness of a passing rider(s) and hopefully reciprocated at least once during our cycling careers. Things happen for a reason. I didn’t subscribe to this philosophical (some might say, fatalist) state in my teens and twenties but it’s one I’ve assumed with time. Such has seen me review the fleets’ toolkit-specifically pumps, tubes and patch kits to ensure they were all suitably stocked and more importantly in good working order. Afterall, spare inner tubes and patches are of little consequence several miles from home with crusty vulcanising solution, wheezy pump and/or CO2 inflator. Having exhausted my supply of spares, the patch kit(s) came out to play. Experience suggests taking manufacturer claims with a pinch of salt, leaving glue/less types overnight provides the best success rates. I’ve taken to pressing them in situ using soft-jawed clothes pegs. Failing to follow this rule saw a good quality example of the glue-less breed lift after a few hours but then, I’ve never put my faith in this particular genre so reverted to the suppler, feathered edge variety.

To the uninitiated, slime-filled self-healing tubes sound heaven-sent but are a recipe for a disgusting sticky mess in the event of rolling over that sharp. Most sealants seem to have a finite life before turning chalky or randomly spewing green goo from the valves. That said; I’ve danced a jig having found one in the bottom of a pannier when the long walk home looked imminent.
Wednesday bore witness to the transformation of last week’s tatty tandem frameset. Thirty-five minutes sustained effort in the blast cabinet had consumed the barnacle thick external rot, revealing sound metal with quite extensive residual acne. Common to popular misconception, this pitting isn’t necessarily down to the blast media or operator skill but demonstrates how corrosion leeches into the host metal when neglected for any time. A call advising of this and some minor dents saw the owner decline additional preparatory work so Graham set about making good the worst areas before applying and baking the chromate. The customer chose to retain the original gold livery, albeit with a sparkle lacquer topcoat evocative of the 70s… bell bottoms, industrial strife, Eurovision and orange bathrooms anyone? Saddle rails, pedals and braking components were also passed through the mini blaster and emerged looking remarkably fresh, ready for gloss black.
Mocking and cold in black and gold I mused, capturing a few further shots and contemplating my falling blood sugar. Every colour has its own unique characteristics and gold has a tendency to bobble-if this isn’t tackled prior to oven curing it results in visible imperfections. Yellow is another tricky livery thanks to its pigment but attempting to compensate by applying thicker coats sees it emerge from the oven literally hanging from its host like runny custard. In this situation, there’s no option but to leave it marinating in the enzyme tank overnight before blasting to bare metal and starting from scratch come the morning.