Down tubes and Phantom Squeaks

Riding, rather like music has always served as an escape. The ability to blast along under your own steam and at a decent pace, blowing everything into perspective has been every bit as enticing, dare I say addictive as lightweight framesets, components, apparel and tech. Judging by several cycling-centric novels and biographies I’ve been reviewing lately, I’m not alone.

Numb of bum and brain, having spent several hours slaving over a keyboard; the soft, enticing whisper of deserted lanes is hard to resist. Mild, wet winters have seen a pronounced spike in pothole fertility. While highways agencies and local authorities send gangs of mastic asphalt spreaders to patch large sections of our infrastructure, tubby tourer and I have been embracing the deviations.

Crime is perceived as an urban phenomenon but metal thieves and similar shady “entrepreneurial” types often emerge, taking advantage of isolation, casing farm buildings and abandoned properties under the cover of darkness. 

This encourages a surprisingly brisk tempo through certain sections. In other respects, I like the eerie quiet-conducive to contemplation, whether it be formulating opinions/conclusions on components/accessories, or formulating new characters/plotlines for short story projects.

Talking of which, the illustrator I snapped up last week is eager to bring my children’s stories together in a series and has also come up with some fantastic ideas of his own. I’m looking forward to his work and getting these some proper exposure.

Back to bikes and the arrival of some fresh bike wash, bottle cages and other test staples saw me cleaning several weeks’ worth of salty spatter from my Univega.Depending on their grade, even stainless fasteners will eventually succumb-especially chainstay bridge bolts and others blasted with wet, mucky stuff. These generally get a quick squirt of PTFE lube to preserve their finish and mobility-usually post wash. 

However, the Univega’s lowest slung bottle mounts hadn’t been given a second thought in a few seasons. Thankfully, these had just turned arthritic, not right royally seized; Liberated with a quick shot of PTFE spray, T handled Allen key and some choice words.              

Re-dressing their threads in stodgy wet lube, I substituted the elderly (18 year old) but remarkably well-preserved Kalloy cage for this Topeak Shuttle. Semi/Compact geometry frames have been a positive revolution, meaning most people can find a production frame to fit. 

However, smaller riders may find two standard cages and bottles problematic.

Several manufacturers have addressed this, often with side-entry designs such as these Lezyne. The Topeak is a more traditional looking option.

Made from engineering grade plastic with integral metal washers to prevent fatigue caused by over-tightening, I’ve been porting it around the bosses, tenure with standard trade and tool caddy bottles is reassuringly good-even off road but intentional release isn’t gunslinger quick. A few more weeks are needed before definite conclusions can be reached. 

Since we’re on the subject, I’ve always liked several bottle mounts.However, those beneath the down tube is anything but ideal for rider refreshment-unless bottles feature protective caps, balloons (or condoms) are the only barrier between you and some extremely nasty bacteria thrown up by the front wheel. 

The latter also invites relentless ridicule from riding companions and sideways glances from other passers by. I’ve even had a very determined terrier attempt to scoff one while I’d nipped in to a farm shop for some mid ride sustenance! Hustling along one such deserted stretch; my silence was rudely interrupted by some intermittent and disconcerting squeaks.

Hauling in the front lever and coasting into a clearing, I checked the obvious candidates-bottom bracket, cranks and pedals... Saddle cradle...Nothing. Hopping back in the saddle and scooting off, I diagnosed a slack cassette lock-ring but bereft of hyper cracker tool, resisted the urge to hammer for those remaining 15miles.

Continuing the down tube theme, this Unich “detonator style” mini floor pump also arrived for testing. Well finished and surprisingly svelte by genre standards, despite rough roads and lumpy forest tracks, it hasn’t slipped along the resin bracket, allowing the handle to rattle woodpecker fashion against the frame.

This can lead to tiny dents on really thin-walled tubing, or mark finishes, hence my precautionary strip of “Helicopter” tape where these make contact. This version is reckoned to deliver 110psi, which is a little short of ideal for really high pressure training and race rubber but more than adequate for touring and wider section training types.

Swapping between Presta and Schrader valves is equally straightforward. Simply unscrew and plug on. No swapping (or losing) tiny bits by the roadside on a cold, rainy night. A boon should your tag along or trailer wheel get a flat. On that note, I’ll end with this clever use of defunct butyl

Grotesque GWCs & Delightful Designers

In the former context I am of course, referring to the “Guy with Camera”. This acronym is oft used within semi/professional and modelling circles to describe a certain grade of sleazy, lecherous individual who poses a threat to women and genuine photographers.

Once upon a time, these would’ve been seen perving with their Polaroids but they have become better equipped to catch the unwary as “Professional looking” equipment tumbles in price.

Parallels between scratcher and tattooist spring to mind here.

One will operate from unlicensed premises with no accreditation, using basic equipment bought online and won’t have registered with the local health authority, let alone possess public liability cover.

Sit in their chair asking for Pegasus and you’ll get my little pony with wings, possibly a nasty infection into the bargain.

The GWC will offer to shoot modelling port-folios with dubious results, not to mention intentions. No model release forms, liability cover, proper studio, assistant and insistence upon chaperones? Smile a lot and walk away very quickly.

With these distinctions firmly established, I was busily indulging in some industrial imagery last Wednesday afternoon; though specifically this Triumph TR3 shell awaiting blasting and related prep. 

Having narrowly avoided a close, head-first encounter with the methyl chloride tank, it was a successful mission. Packing away my SLR and lenses, I was approached by a grubby looking man in his thirties who attempted to strike up a conversation.

“Been busy?”  “Yes”; I replied politely.

“What have you been photographing?” he continued

“All sorts”; came my guarded response.

“Women?; bought myself a Nikon..” his return serve;  I could almost feel the steady trickle of saliva cascading from his mouth as he pursued this line of unwelcome enquiry-oblivious to my brusque and reproving replies.

“Yes, I shoot all manner of portrait and makeover commissions”.

He took this to mean, naked...”So where do you go to shoot these naked birds; a venue or do you just drop round their houses?”

His closing comments swept me back to a cold December night in Amsterdam’s red light district.

City dwellers passing smartly as crowds of male tourists pointed and gawped at women posing provocatively in the neon lit windows. This was twenty years ago when prostitution was decriminalised and tolerated but at this level, mafia controlled. 

One group from Streatham discovered this first hand when their leader aimed a disposable 35mm point n’ shoot at the neon saturated terrace. Contrary to popular misconception, prostitution was tolerated and decriminalised during this era but only legalised proper in 2000. (This presented another distinct problem for trafficked women as their status changed to illegal immigrant).

Seconds later they were chased away by a man brandishing a very large, serrated knife.  Many of the women serving this market were trapped, trafficked by Russian and Turkish mafia from Africa, former Soviet states, South America. Others served even darker masters most notably drug dependency mental illness.

Ending on a far lighter, happier note, I’ve recruited a talented and enthusiastic illustrator to collaborate on my series of children’s stories-he liked their concept and is busily bringing the characters to life as I type this.

Suffice to say I’m delighted and will reveal more another time. Right, time I popped the camera batteries on charge, threw a leg over the Univega’s top tube and went for a blast along the back roads.    

  

Salt, Spray, Slush & SLRS

As winter slips into spring and forecasters threaten a bitterly cold Easter, I’m reflecting on the Ilpompino’s two-tone powder coated finish. Regular visitors will know that I’m a firm fan of powder coating, which is both extremely durable and these days, available in pretty much any colour you’d care to mention. Some with equally bewildering monikers too and I’m suddenly very taken with this orange....

However; overall effects and longevity are dependent on the quality of materials and sprayer skill. Given Maldon Shotblasting and Powder Coating (http://ctc-powder-coating.co.uk/pedal-bikes/) offer a five year warrantee against corrosion or defects as standard, I wasn’t surprised to discover my beloved MK2 remains resplendent.

Unlike the Teenage Dream (refinished in May 2009) the fixer is not a fair weather member of the fleet, it serves year round and in all but snow. Six months and a few thousand miles spent navigating slippery backwaters carpeted in soggy dung, salt, stones and other caustic, nasties have made zero impression.

In the interests of critical evaluation, I’ve been uncharacteristically slack when it comes to cleaning, allowing grime, filth and spatter to cultivate and solidify around the down tube, bottom bracket shell and rear triangle for several weeks at a time. 

With this in mind, its worth noting that any imperfections resulting from reasonable use would be honoured under warrantee. After all, winter, ‘cross and mountain bikes serve in contexts where a grimy patina is to be expected. Several months’ ride-into-the-ground neglect is not.

Do not expect a spray shop offering and enduring warrantee to cut corners.   

Critics of powder cite weight as being a major detraction and yes, compared with a 2pac it does pile on the grams, which could be a deal breaker for race whippets and other bikes on calorie controlled diets. This leads some finishers to skip the zinc phosphate primer and go straight to paint at customer request.  

Many mass produced racks/accessories are painted this way as it keeps costs competitive, In the event of stone chip/similar damage, the frame/fork's parent metal is left vulnerable to the elements. Moisture can sneak beneath, the colour coat, which then peels/flakes-especially if corrosion/oxidisation has been able to thrive unnoticed.  

Never ask, let alone attempt to cajole a project finisher to do something they know to be poor practice.  

Elsewhere, I’ve finally found a suitable body to replace my elderly Sony Alpha workhorse SLR. This enables me to retain my range of Minolta lenses, which are still quite plentiful and relatively inexpensive second hand.

In the hands-on sense, I’m fond of Sony’s A & NEX systems but irked by the Japanese firm’s tendency to discard, or change spec, seemingly on a whim and compelling owners to abandon or upgrade. Such practices might be acceptable for enthusiast armatures but a sure-fire way of alienating semi/pro audiences. 

Talking of electronics, my Hudl2 tablet computer has also gone the way of my previous KA’s exhaust baffles and arouses suspicions that inbuilt, software induced obsolescence was responsible.

Tesco, the retail giant was quite public in its intentions to discontinue and therefore, no longer support the range. I had it repaired under original guarantee at the close of November and this work carried a further 90 day warrantee.

Said Android powered device suddenly expired while I was entering the soft corridor of sleep a few days outside of that period. Annoying yes but lesson learned and I’ll acquire a different brand, when one presents at the right price. Bert Wagendorp’s “Ventoux” has just landed on the Seven Day Cyclist test bench, so I’m off for a read before drawing up a shortlist for potential design interns...

Kit N' Caboodle

New Seven Day Cyclist site is now live www.sevendaycyclist.com , reflecting our global audience.

February can be one of the more challenging months in the cyclist’s calendar. As a product tester, it’s also one of the most interesting because harsh, wintery conditions separate the exceptional from the very good and good from indifferent.

Chain lubes, tyres and tubes being the most obvious machine-centric examples and from a rider’s perspective; clothing. Hands and feet are the first extremities the brain shuts down to conserve energy.  

Gloves need to be warm and ideally waterproof but without feeling clammy or overly bulky-needing to remove them when locking bikes in the street, or tending roadside mechanicals is no joke when the mercury is slipping below zero.

The transition to University and a ramshackle suburban semi bearing an uncanny resemblance to that used in “The Young Ones” cured my sensitivity to cold (I was up at 530am and out on the winter bike most days, if for no other reason than keeping warm!)

We had ice and black mould forming within the bathroom and as for a boiler, well that would’ve been condemned by anyone valuing their Corgi registration…Fast forward 23 years and six months, I approach winter with base layer, thermal tights, thermal training jersey and two layer laminate jacket, gloves and if its wet, overshoes.

Overshoes not only protect the feet from chill but expensive shoes from being ravaged by the slimy cocktail of road salt, grit, diesel oil and similar toxic sludge. There’s a school of thought that advocates running hand-me-down but serviceable framesets with P-clips, cast off components and older training kit. Run everything into the ground, rebuild with the next relegated groupset.

Makes a lot of sense on many levels, especially if you are a trade/business for who time literally is money. I tend to be fastidious by nature, although, aside from close of season servicing, there's no reason why a thorough weekly bars to tyres clean of bikes n’ kit should consume more than 45minutes from start to finish.

Products must be evaluated against their design criteria i.e. its not far to expect a lightweight summer chain prep to withstand waterlogged winter roads but by the same token, if a waxy type formula arrives at this time of year, that is exactly when it will be tested. Some super clean lubes have been a pleasant surprise.

Not as stoical as middleweight ISO/PTFE blends perhaps but this Rock n’ Roll absolute dry has churned along for 170miles between replenishment, collects nominal dirt (thus drivetrains can be run until the faint metal on metal tinkling intrudes) and without recourse to solvent baths or similar stripping. I’m not a traditionalist in any respect, especially when it comes to road bikes.

Framesets with a cyclo cross heritage/genealogy are my defaults-big clearances and more relaxed angles mean a sprightly ride with 32/35mm tyres and full length mudguards for comfort and control, whatever the weather front.

Single (or compact doubles) and widely spaced cassettes ensure there’s enough torque for pretty much everything (Surrey’s Leith and Box hills being prime examples) but without the additional weight and complication of the traditional triple.

Even with the little n’ often mantra, keeping my Univega’s  a’la carte Deore LX, STX, Microshift, Tiagra and KMC ensemble on song year round is a chore.

On the subject of rider attire, trade jerseys and or day-glow tends to dominate roadie wardrobes, although several brands including Foska has offered interesting alternatives. Some of which have been a little hit n’ miss (I’ve never fancied being a mobile hoarding for baked beans, although their long discontinued CCP hammer & sickle soviet print remains a firm favourite. Their "I pay road tax" tax disc print, designed to counter the old but enduring myth that roads are paid for by vehicle excise duty (VED). It is in fact paid by income and other forms of public taxation.

Possibly the most controversial were sported by the Columbian women’s team, which have been mistaken for full frontal shots back in 2014. We are since told the flesh type tones were down to poor lighting when the photographs were taken. Not satisfied with that, this  Xirayas de San Luis seems to be a mobile anatomy lesson. Debate rages as to whether its a fashion faux pas, PR genius or another example of casual, everyday sex/misogyny...   

At the other extreme(partly due to the reignited mainstream interest in messenger chic and cycle commuting being seen as “cool”; rather than cheapskate), a few brands both here and in the US have been introducing street styled garments with cycling cut and technical fabrics.

These ensure you’ll attract the right sort of attention when sashaying round the office, or meeting friends on a night out, yet still ride short to moderate distances with greater comfort and efficiency. Like anything else, performance depends on price, those at the lower end of the market will breathe less efficiently, whereas top end are good enough for day rides and touring.

Messenger knickers were pretty much my everyday default when riding fixer, crosser, mtbs and old school road bikes. Seven Day Cyclist will be casting a critical eye over Dani Foffa’s new urban clothing line www.foffabikes.com in the coming weeks, which promises to be very exciting. Watch this space...

Tiramisu, Tyrants & Tubes

My favourite Italian treat was rudely interrupted by talk of deficits. Having explained there was no deficit (aside from the gulf between their perceived entitlement and legally binding reality) I resumed my meal and discussions of great depth and significance. The nature of which, I am not prepared to expand upon at this point. 

Meanwhile, back on the test bench Tubeless tyre systems are gaining popularity, on account of their tuneable, puncture repelling nature. In the same way “clinchers” began rivalling tubulars (Tubs) during the late 80s and 90s, I can see these overtaking high pressure wired-on rubber once conversion kits are perfected.

Tubulars retain a niche following even now. The need for sewing and gluing induces traumatic flashbacks but aside from reduced weight at the crucial points, rims themselves were proportionately much stronger.  Rather like the common cold, preventing punctures has been around since the dawn of pneumatic tyres.

Solid tyres re-emerge every so often and though they have improved slightly since the days I whizzed round the parental driveway astride my rod braked Raleigh Elf;  its disproportionate to price and overall performance.

Assuming you haven’t obliterated rims during the mounting phase and alienated your neighbours with a seamless band of expletives; those I’ve tried deliver a harsh and unforgiving ride that ultimately shakes spokes and fillings loose with consummate ease.

For most of us, dependant upon rim sections it boils down to a choice between bog standard butyl and puncture repelling tyre casings, thorn repellent tubes or the sealant type. All have their pros and cons and to some extent, rather like the glue-less v traditional patch debate; it’s a question of rider faith.

We’re presently putting a series of each through their paces at Seven Day Cyclist (www.sevendaycyclist.co.uk) to see how they perform overall, not just in terms of puncture prevention. Are they limited to asphalt, or can the bigger sections cope with canal path and similarly challenging short cuts…

It’s not difficult to appreciate the allure of a self-healing tube, especially for commuting. When I worked behind the counter, these were a real money-spinner but are the premium pre-filled superior to their budget counterparts? Are these repairable or bin fodder in the event they succumb to a big flint or thorn.  Is it better to fill standard tubes with aftermarket sealant, or buy ready made?

In my experience, the goo-filled genre works to the same basic science. Varying quantities of liquid lay dormant until a small hole appears; internal (air) pressure forces it to the affected area whereupon said sealant (theoretically) plugs the affected area.

Some pressure loss is inevitable and topping up with a hand pump, or Co2 inflator is generally required. Sometimes the latter are required to awaken the latex if it’s been slumbering a while, so don’t leave home without them, even using the most invulnerable tyre casings.

Piercings to a millimetre in diameter are pretty much their limit-hit a series of really nasty thorns, or the proverbial nine-inch nail with your name on it and chances are, you will be mopping up a big sticky mess. Hopefully, you didn’t forget the spare, pump, tyre boot etc and your riding companions will rally round, not laugh like crazed hyenas... Now; time for a batch before I head out for another quick blast along the lanes...

Carnage & Cams

I’ll leave the first few shots to your imagination-for legal reasons I cannot reveal anymore at this juncture. Suffice to say, I’m very glad to have walked away unharmed (More than can be said for my beloved Neptune green KA) and a dash cam is now essential equipment for me.

Fearing that I might be tempted to start a sanctuary for unloved Mk1s (Seriously underrated little cars) I hired its successor and went hunting for the low mileage, late model replacement seen here. 

Rare that I have any affinity for the top gear team but after 200 miles found myself agreeing whole heartedly with their summary of the MK2 “Disappointing second-generation version of Ford’s groundbreaking 1990s city car. That model was a classic: this one is just a rehashed Fiat 500. Literally”.

Yes, the Mk2 has plenty of consumer toys, a dashboard that tells the driver they need to change into 5^th at 33mph, leaving the 1.2 Zetec struggling on the flat let alone a modest incline. Another concern is that some drivers are becoming deskilled by this sort of technology, changing up on a sweeping bend when they should’ve held back in preparation for what, or indeed who might present around the corner. Unfortunately, stupidity cannot be legislated against.

Even budget dash-cams can capture decent footage these days, reviewing the casual indifference and downright carelessness of some people on public roads, regardless of vehicle stirs some very strong emotions. Politicians are very keen on law and order rhetoric. The present British administration is talking in terms of doubling fines and endorsement for use of hand-held devices while driving. Sounds good but of little consequence unless robustly enforced.

Public sector funding cuts have stark implications for policing too. Anecdotally, I’ve seen police drive casually by a driver handset welded to their ear and engrossed in conversation! Driving along motorways at 60-65mph, I’ve found myself gaining on vehicles occupying the middle lane at 45mph, relaxed in the seats, chatting away without a care in the world. Life unfortunately is cheap.

Hmm, ah I see, it was an accident...It might be accepted that you may not have intended to kill that person(s) by ploughing into them oblivious but an accident is best defined as something that you could not reasonably expect or predict.

It is more commonly used to mitigate responsibility and therefore, punitive sanctions. Face in a hand-held device when you are operating a ton plus of steel and should be focused on conditions ahead, is not.  

Economic hardship is another popular card, played to avoid loss of a licence. Until driving is seen as a privilege and not a right, with the emphasis placed upon continuously improving standards (throughout the licence holder’s life) then this callous indifference and needless loss of life will continue.     

Then of course, we have the “punishment pass”...Ironically enough, I’d left the Geonaute behind last Wednesday afternoon. Five miles from base, I was bowling along at a smart pace on the Univega. Glancing over my shoulder, a white Citroen van with an LV60 plate was advancing, although not at unreasonable speed.

Twenty seconds later, the driver intentionally swerved into my path screaming expletives before swinging into a right turn sans indicating. Without the complete registration, or camera evidence, reporting this to the police was pointless... Now, if the self proclaimed “People’s Judge” James Pickles were still alive, I’m confident he’d be saying that dressed in figure hugging Lycra tights and astride a Scarlet bicycle, I was “asking for it”.