Holdsworth...The Photo Love-Story Concludes

Having meandered back from the midlands, I spent two days contemplating life, the universe and subsequent moves from the Ilpompino’s recently moulded leather perch. Persistent, near vertical climbs also had me pondering the wisdom of an 81 inch gear. Hardly certifiable but something between 72 and 76 is nearer the mark for tarmac, 63 sans asphalt-not that I’ve taken this route on said beast for several years.

Sharing obvious similarities with IRO’s now seemingly defunct “Rob Roy”; describing these as “cross mounts with track ends” is a bit over simplistic, since their loftier centres of gravity require nimbler reflexes through more technical sections compared with a standard, geared mount. Not that plummeting temperatures haven’t presented their own challenges, potholes breeding at an alarming rate and many lanes under a thick, frosty blanket, dotted with black ice.

Fixed is ideal for these contexts, since it allows the rider to hold off against the cranks, slowing the rear wheel by very subtle increments, especially in situations where engaging one’s front brake would induce a skid and subsequent painful face-plant or broken collar bone. 

Muc-off’s CF3 dry lube continues to impress with its serene tenacity and relative cleanliness, making wheel swaps and puncture purging less socially awkward. Miles per application remains a consistent 175, even through soggy stuff, although enduro’s old guard are better served by wet ceramics and cleat mechanisms seem happier with heavy-duty Teflon/PTFE sprays.

Back in the comfort of my kitchen with warmth, running water and hot beverages in seamless supply, I commenced the final stages of the Holdsworth’s reincarnation. Contrary and unpredictable aren’t adjectives usually applied to yours truly but once again, the script changed on account of the front Halo hoop’s powder coated sidewalls being inappropriate braking surfaces.

Six layers of budget electrical tape later those Miche Xpress were dressed in 23mm Specialized rubber, axles treated to a precautionary lick of crystal grease to prevent unnecessary chafing of frame ends. Diagnostics and planning complete, even the most minimal builds can present unexpected challenges. Exit stage left my trusty workshop chain splitter, choosing this crucial moment to shoot its drive pin uselessly across the tiled floor and into oblivion!

Luckily, my Axiom compact multi tool exceeded all expectations, joining ends in matrimony with incredible finesse, leaving me to drizzle some CF3 dry into its parched links before taking right magnesium Keo homage in hand and cranking things over. Awestruck at the transmissions’ refinement, I repeated this several times before introducing a quick squirt of heavy duty Teflon prep to cleat and dual pivot brake mechanisms. Cable pruning complete, I sealed its end with superglue and tweaked Tri-Bars for more ergonomic effect.

Earlier foraging unearthed this colour coordinated, albeit elementary KNOG NERD computer and pattern spoke magnet. The head unit was calibrated to 700x35, demanding twenty minutes and an online memory jog. Ordinarily, chain tugs are derigueur, the fixed equivalent of cuff-links but these otherwise exquisite NJS stamped MKS offerings were redundant since chain length dictated the wheel slotted fully home. Project complete, he can resume hibernation until spring, leaving me to focus on commissions, deadlines and related matters. 

Home-brew kits are evocative of 1970’s middle-aged suburban men with dubious taste in jumpers and facial hair. Ironic then that one’s sibling felt this nostalgic staple a fitting yuletide gift.  Recalling one or two unfortunate, shag pile ruining detonations (induced, we think by over-zealous mixing/fermentation misadventure) I commenced proceedings from the safety of my bath tub, observing measures with religious precision. 

Decanting everything sequentially, stirring as instructed, I resumed interludes of pronounced creativity/inspiration. This serenity was rudely interrupted two hours hence by a sudden, unnerving hiss. Dashing to the bathroom, I was confronted by a torrent of partially fermented brown fluid spurting uncontrollably from the exploded valve tap.

Keen to avert that notorious scene from “The Shining” where water cascades uncontrollably through the hotel’s corridors, I grasped numerous PET bottles and averted certain “cascading through the ceiling” disaster. Said receptacles can remain safely ensconced in a quiet corner, while I pursue some business leads and steal a march on 2014.      

  

The Great Escape

I’ve no doubt that cinematic institution will feature over the festive telly season (if it hasn't already) but in this instance I’m referring to 125psi roaring from my Ilpompino’s front tyre with frightening haste while piloting it through a series of twisty, freezing, mulch strewn back roads at 23mph…Remaining composed, I drew to a halt and concluded shouldering said fixer that final mile home was best, especially since it’s 29mm rear was just succumbing to similar fate.

Both sported Kevlar belts (1 and 2.5mm thick, respectively) and were defeated by two shards of indicator lens burrowing vindictively inside. Some will argue this stab vest staple is now looking decidedly long in the tooth, superseded in technical terms by Aramid. However, in my experience puncture resistance is by degrees-roll over that nine-inch nail with your name etched into its head and belt composition becomes pretty academic.

Wafer thin butyl certainly didn’t help, although fortuitously their pinpricks were easily repaired from the comfort of one’s kitchen. Rule of thumb suggests a new tube, the injured parties kept as spares. Therefore, I introduced a 35mm Kenda thorn-resistant “builders hose” to the 29mm rear and a common or garden 25mm CST up front. Nonetheless, continuing the thrifty theme, I’ve ordered industrial sized replenishments of patches and solution.

Lo and behold, Moore Large (www.todayscyclist.co.uk) has generously sent me these 32mm Kenda Bitumen reflective. 85psi and 60tpi iron-cap casings indicate rugged, rather than racy persona, though hopefully this will put paid to dead-of night deflation paranoia and see us cruising through spring and a fair while beyond. However, credible comment requires a good few hundred miles in varying conditions, so I’ll reserve judgement until January’s swansong.

Christmas usually presents copious remit for serious fettling and I’ve decided to resurrect some deep-section Miche hoops. Originally shelved on account of recurrent pinch flatting, there’s no indication of structural damage, thus I’m convinced that employing Effetto Mariposa rim tape (primarily intended to convert standard hp wire ons to tubeless service) will resolve this (as it has on my Univega’s spare Weinnman/NX30 front hoop).

Said holidays are equally conducive to reflection and moreover trying something different. It’d been a while since I’d seen some grass roots cyclo cross racing and Coventry Road Club’s 60^{th annual} meet at Kenilworth common proved too good an opportunity to pass up. Ironically, the common is a nature reserve but CRC secured special dispensation, part of which requires riders compete on UCI legal 700c ‘cross mounts. http://www.uci.ch/Modules/BUILTIN/getObject.asp?MenuId=&ObjTypeCode=FILE&type=FILE&id=NTI0MDY&LangId=1

Such stipulations don’t apply to the under 10/12s who are welcome on mountain and even balance bikes. However, anyone inclined to sample the grinding climbs and swooping technical descents beforehand risk having their entries voided. While enjoying phenomenal continental popularity, it is oft forgotten that ‘cross had a similar post war following here, riders attending on old pared to the essentials touring bikes with hand-me-down components.

Fast forward several decades and a more glamorous, dare we say, continental image, the inclusive, accessible spirit remains phenomenally strong. First up came the seemingly irrepressible under 10’s whose competitive vigor was tempered with a refreshing sense of discipline and genuine sportsmanship.

Despite relaxed rulings and the odd smattering of fancy dress, most thundered past on junior ‘cross builds. Occasional, slow speed tumble with terra firma aside, mishaps were thankfully conspicuous by their absence. This theme remained consistent throughout the under 12’s event, entrants negotiated the senior laps with commendable panache, although by this stage in the morning's proceedings, damp, nagging chill had permeated my exposed fingers, inducing unwelcome camera shake.

Mick Ives provided commentary for the main event, which progressed at a frenetic pace, meticulous organisation/intelligent marshaling optimising rider and spectator safety. However, one rider sustained sufficiently serious injury to require air ambulance rescue, illustrating that even these standards of event management cannot entirely eradicate risk.  

Hmm, I’m getting a sudden desire to organise an altogether different category of ‘cross racing, requiring entrants present on rigid mountain bikes with dropped bars…Fancy collaborating? Drop me a line: roadpathtoenlightenment@gmail.com

   

Coming Together

The kind folks at Ison distribution www.ison-distribution.com generously dropped me two of these lovely Genetic (Campag homage) seat post binder bolts yesterday (19 and 22mm just in case). Seizing the moment, I gently manipulated the frame’s ears, applied some composite friendly grease to bolt and post before introducing said components at their correct nm. Some folk still regard torque wrenches as a new-fangled luxury but in my book, lying prone in A&E while an overworked and undervalued nurse plucks shards from one’s buttocks is extremely undignified and totally unnecessary. Emblazoning my moniker along its top tube, fiddly bits are finished and with freshly herded goodies, my ferrous friend can resume secure hibernation until spring while I address pressing business matters and chart long, slippery outings aboard suitably dressed Ilpompino and Univega.

The deskilling debate has been hotly contested in many quarters with equally compelling contradiction. Traditionally this has referred to the labour market, primarily in relation to automation and manual labour. However, it appears increasingly prevalent in other spheres. I was somewhat gobsmacked to hear a police (traffic) officer remark that once someone has successfully passed their driving test; they are by default competent and capable users of the public highway (!) This contradicts widespread driving instructor/examiner conviction that such assessments are simply to ascertain someone is safe to be allowed to operate said vehicle(s) unaccompanied.

London’s seamier districts have always been awash with the unlicensed/uninsured and otherwise illegal drivers. However, toward the end of my twelve years spent navigating the capital on two-wheels, standards of PSV (Public Service Vehicles) operation had become obviously dilute to counteract declining numbers. This new breed of operator often substituted skill and courtesy with a deadly cocktail of elephantine ignorance and aggression toward smaller craft. I even recall the story of one, high on cocaine and deciding his passengers would benefit from a more scenic commute through suburban Kingston-Upon Thames (!)

Far from engaging “Victim” mode, I’m advocating for the re-establishment of “Road craft” whereby we have a collective responsibility to adopt a sense of greater humility, while continuously developing our skills and shedding this corrosive them/us tribalism. Aside from the (very real) fear of their driveway resembling a motorcycle salvage yard, my parents weren’t the least bit hysterical about a strange and irrational interest in middleweight motorcycles running in parallel with that of lightweight bicycles. Rather, they preferred to stress the importance of having a car licence-if for no other reason than to appreciate driver perspective and therefore, perceive potential hazards before they arose. Bottom line, I’m pro cycles but only have a pronounced allergy to stupid/ignorant/myopic humans, whether they be commanding car/van/bus/truck/horse/yak or indeed motor/cycle.

Against this backdrop, I am slightly perturbed by the notion of the UK’s sixteen year olds being able to drive unaccompanied on public roads, albeit behind the wheel of a heavily restricted vehicle. Now (before I’m mown down by an entourage of irate parents defending the civil liberties of their offspring) this has always been possible here under P class-trikes powered by engines no larger than 50cc. I can also appreciate why these micro-vehicles would seem preferable to little darlings terrorising commuter towns/estates astride sports mopeds, bereft of exhaust baffles (in the misguided notion such unleashes extra dobbins!) However, these do teach observation/road craft, contributing to an elevation of driver standards.

The Netherlands and to a lesser extent, Denmark are hailed as pinnacles of achievement when it comes to systems of integrated transport but in common with other social phenomenon, notions of being able to prune and re-pot in the UK is extremely naïve, failing to recognise the pronounced differences in public psyche.

Now, time I was charging some high power commuter lights and replenishing tired AAA cells, lest I fall foul of the fuzz, or worse still, become a statistic on tonight’s moonlit meander.    

Pre Festive Foraging

Seeking solace from keyboard slavery, I headed to the workshop and unearthed these Halo Aero track wheels that had been enjoying extended hibernation. A quick tickling with a soft brush dunked in sudsy bike wash restored their powder coated neon lustre within a matter of minutes. Further rummaging in various stash points retrieved fresh rim tape, two compatible tubes with giraffe-esque valve stems and some 23mm section Specialized tyres.

Folders, especially those bound tightly for any time can prove fiendishly tricky to mount, though these were swept aboard in thirty seconds courtesy that prodigious Cyclo wand type lever. Five minutes sprocket-bobbing later rewarded with two- one Cro-moly, the other ti, both fifteen teeth and sped home on a bed of space age grease so they’ll fit snug but will budge without copious helpings of penetrant spray. On a roll, I happened upon another of the pressure fit SKS cage adaptors so popped that in situ while watching some instantly forgettable late night “chewing gum” television.

These are by far the best of this genre. Paint friendly yet phenomenally tenacious-I’ve carried 25lb old school cyclo crosser by said composite mount without slippage or cataclysmic failure. That said; riders of smaller frames looking to mount symmetrical pairings on seat/down tubes are better served by side-entry cages given the bracket’s greater girth but a moot point on 58/60cm horizontal configurations.   

Had an interesting email from Dani at Foffa bikes (photo credit Tyson Sadlo) inviting me to test their latest hub geared urban scoot, which looks rather fetching from this picture, though suggests clearances might be a bit tight for full length mudguards (fenders) .I’m due to take delivery early January so will reserve judgement until then. Recent years have seen a welcome explosion in wallet friendly, ultra practical everyday bikes but despite being well catered for in terms of trailers, I’m yet to find a bicycle sidecar system that works without being brutally unsympathetic to their hosts-even plain gauge gas pipe tube sets have been known to fracture under such duties. That said; many motorcycle chassis (V-twin Moto Guzzi in particular) suffer similar fates when coupled to outfits.

Critics would argue these belong firmly in museums given the pace of modern traffic but such has tremendous potential during winter when remaining upright takes priority.  Speaking of which, Joshua and I have both succumbed to a spot of tyre slide on separate occasions this week. Experience meant I kept Univega in check across a greasy manhole cover while turning right, whereas he wasn’t so lucky- nothing more serious than a twisted saddle and dented pride mind.

Talking of rubber, since roads are slimy as opposed to snowy for the foreseeable weeks, I’m off astride the Ilpompino to see how these 29mm Halo twin rail courier Berlin and my modified fibre flare mount behave. Said fixer’s sportier configuration means the mono stay now doubles as a nifty mount for this literally brilliant GLO blinker4 http://www.bicyclelightshop.com/collections/rear-led-lights/products/rear-bike-light-led-big-blinker. Hopefully the dreaded “hiss” will remain firmly the preserve of pantomime, especially since fresh supplies of 18-25mm tubes and patch kits haven’t arrived yet.   

Parts & Pragmatism

Frustration with a small, print focused publishing house continues to ruminate, though I’ve reached a state of dispassionate pragmatism, choosing to divert creative energies into book projects and related business opportunities. Sample chapters have been submitted to a respected US publisher for consideration, which will determine whether I assume this traditional (preferred) path, or self-publish via online platform. Either way, such endeavours cannot be left languishing on hard drives/portable storage.

Elsewhere, the Holdsworth’s reincarnation prompted investment in another Czech made headset press, saving time and upheaval, though the Labyrinth nature of said steed’s Woodman Saturn unit proved something of a puzzle with few clues online. Woodman’s website was the first and arguably obvious starting point- PDFs simpered enticingly but several attempts at downloading proved fruitless. Mercifully, this exploded diagram materialised on my desktop’s hard-drive while trawling for some equally elusive photographs.

Twenty minutes and a liberal slathering of ceramic grease later saw front end reinstated with this exquisite Torus titanium stem leading the charge. Further foraging unearthed contact points and transmission components but its chrome plated, Campagnolo pattern seatpost binder bolt still eludes me.

Thankfully, these remain readily available and cheap as the proverbial portion of chips.  I’ve earmarked a set of rather fetching, deep section Halo hoops with powder coated rims and large flange hubs for their solid, yet sprightly charms. This and tyre choice will be contemplated further during that strange limbo land between festive Cyclo Cross meets and New Year.  

Temping was never intended as an economic staple (arguably the same sentiments have been ushered by countless numbers of people entering car/similar assembly lines) and while lacking the same degree of mind-numbing monotony, has nonetheless lead me down some distinctly dead-ends. Having acknowledged this and a desire to acquire a separate, skilled second/tertiary income stream to support scribing of various genres, I’ve decided to reinvestigate vocational qualifications in holistic therapies.

Massage is fascinating; although difficult to practice with any commercial continuity given my gender. However, I was recently invited to explore reflexology and believe this may well prove fruitful. Cost implications seem pretty reasonable too. Progression will depend upon my perceived suitability-standards of education certainly fulfil one set of criteria but those with directly related skills/qualification/experience are undoubtedly at an advantage.

Having spent several years experimenting with varying genres of photography, I’ve decided my commercial focus lies with industrial, product and portraiture. The latter seems a touch woolly/over-subscribed but I have a very specific target audience in mind. Knowing one’s market is the difference between success and obscurity. Swapping the Univega’s headset spacers has indeed cured the sloppy steerer bearing blues, so I’m off to ponder strategies from its saddle.    

Transformation Complete

Having left Kushi KA for servicing/MOT testing, Meg the magic (Nissan) Micra spirited us to Maldon Shot blasting & Powder coating for the grand finale’. Upon arrival, Chris had already tended the affected areas with Metafil-an aluminium based filler that seems much sleeker than thermal putties, although care is needed to avoid generating air bubbles since these can bleed through during the final curing phase.

Perhaps unsurprisingly given its age, there’s trace, corrosion induced pitting along the inner, drive-side chainstay, thankfully long dormant and before my adoption. This superficial scarring won’t present in the final colour coat, nonetheless, Chris leaves nothing to chance and gives said section a final, precautionary tickling in the glass bead cabinet.

Three minutes later, we’re ready for masking and that all-important zinc phosphate primer. Pedants might advocate chromates but the former is much kinder to personnel and planet while performance differentials are negligible. Indeed this brand cures with phenomenal, seemingly elastic tenacity given ten minutes at 200 degrees whereupon Chris graciously offers to create an exotic two-tone effect with no cost implication. However, accepting such would be tantamount to bladder milking, so we commence with RAL5024-pastel (sometimes called “French”) blue.

Being an electrostatic process, there’s no wastage and he achieves comprehensive, even coverage in five minutes, lovingly hanging it in their walk in oven for a further ten. At this juncture decals can be applied and sealed under a two-pack lacquer but I prefer a quiet, mysterious air. Speaking of which, there’s no need to clear coat-a finish of this calibre will look resplendent for many years. However, an acrylic was applied since opportunity presented itself.

Unlike polyesters, there’s no risk of crazing but acrylics cannot be sprayed to warm surfaces; hence said chassis sits patiently for twenty minutes beforehand. Lacquers appear white for sprayer convenience but form a glossy invisible barrier within the oven. Job done, we are reunited and homeward bound. Once again, I’d like to thank Lee Cooper (www.leecoopercycles.webs.com) and MSBC (http://ctc-powder-coating.co.uk/) for their remarkable generosity of spirit and obviously, taking such good care of my beloved frame.  

In the days since, I’ve reinstated the sealed square taper bottom bracket and am reflecting on headsets while doing some post (successful pass) MOT sill surgery- Kushi’s are sound, though demanded sanding and marine primer TLC to halt the silent killer’s relentless advances during the grottier months. Now, off to play with some 700x29 tyres!

  

With A Little Help From My Friends

Having returned from the midlands, I wasted no time in dropping the Holdsworth at Maldon Shot Blasting & powder Coating. Despite considerable demand for their services, Chris made concerted efforts to commence work on Wednesday morning, submerging it within their slightly sinister looking chloride tank, which softens the existing finish in a matter of minutes. Satisfied of even saturation, my ferrous friend is plucked free and placed within the iron oxide cabinet ready for blasting. Starting at the bottom bracket shell, these finer particles are projected at lower pressure, yet dismisses the beleaguered blue livery with remarkable efficiency, leaving behind a clean, lightly sanded texture perfect for receiving the new primer and topcoats.

Obviously, this chemical romance consumes filler too, so pre-existing superficial dents around the top and head tube will be given fresh helpings of Thermabond putty beforehand. Job-lot finishers would go straight to paint, attempting to mask these imperfections with heavier powder but this always bleeds though and looks second rate. Traditional fillers are porous, so will blow, ruining the finish as it oven cures, so the only other option would involve filling the affected with brass and smoothing it flat.    

Elsewhere, Uncle Benny came to my rescue on the coldest night thus far. Swooping serenely past his house on the newly fettled Ilpompino, our zen-like mood was rudely interrupted by the rear tyre’s sudden loss of pressure. Carrying said steed sixty odd metres to his welcoming (not to mention well-lit) veranda, I was extracting the rear wheel when he opened the door, inviting me and stricken spherical into the warm.

Boiling kettles muffled impolite curses upon discovering both tyre levers crumbling under moderate strain and several small but troublesome lesions in the previously invulnerable 24mm Halo rubber (which ironically had superseded 25mm thick slicks that succumbed to similar fate twenty three hours earlier). 

Having filled this with Bostick’s finest while slurping piping hot diesel strength beverage, I introduced a fresh tube only to find my ultra-efficient SKS hand-pump had also blown its last…Luckily enough, I’d a fully loaded CO2 dispenser en tow-110psi reinstated in a matter of seconds. Beverages consumed, pump binned and wheel repatriated, we were home in twelve minutes. Naturally I’ve since added two replacement tubes, levers, canister and mini pump to proceedings.

Despite forecaster predictions, artic winds have brought freezing rain as opposed to snowfall, thus Univega has retained those semi-slick Panaracer RIBMO for time being. Aheadset bearings have continued to slacken every forty odd miles, leading me to repatriate the spacer below the stem. Theoretically this configuration will increase the load exerted by its heavy duty headlock (as distinct from star fangled nut) cancelling out further outbreaks of unwanted play.

Experiencing creative fatigue, I noticed the rear derailleur cable run from lever to first guide seemed a little strained so re-routed and replaced its inner wire before drizzling some clever looking Muc-Off C3 ceramic dry lube into each and every chain link. “Alien” green upon contact, it cures clear and supposedly offers similar tenacity to a wet lube but with much slicker, cleaner running. Seems delightful thus far, making easy transition to cleat/similar mechanisms, doubling as a decent assembly paste on mudguard/carrier bolts too.

Most potions tend to consist of two parts-a super invasive polymer lubricant and boron nitride stopper/thickening agent that prevents dismissal come the first puddle. There’s even a UV torch included, supposedly ensuring comprehensive, unabridged coverage but while certainly different, in practice it doesn’t seem to offer any real benefit since green is pretty difficult to miss! Still, the next few hundred road miles will reveal this particular formula’s foibles.