Fatigue & Thrift

Fatigue hit me like the proverbial express train. I’d been working relentlessly testing kit and composing copy until 2am pretty much every morning for three successive weeks and the creative process had ground to a halt. Deadlines met and others under strict control, I headed 150 miles north to the Midlands for a photographic assignment. En route I couldn’t resist exploring some long derelict hotels- evidently raped by the metal locusts.

Meanwhile back in the south…Coinciding with another financial year’s swan song was the rush to collate and submit fiscal evidence forming the basis of this year’s tax return to HRMC (Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs). Fiscal administration doesn’t come naturally to me, yet completion is strangely satisfying tackled with a focused, proactive mindset.

On the subject of money, there’s a prevailing romanticism of thrift within television scheduling which focuses on cooking, dressmaking and related domesticity. On many levels I’ve nothing against this, assuming it reconnects people with traditional skills and creativity but there’s a more sinister use of nostalgia, drawing parallels with a rose tinted post war make do n’ mend era while the very frameworks established to promote equality, raise living standards and socio-economic mobility are steadily eroded under the guise of austerity.

Begrudgingly infectious, I rustled up this simple little handlebar camera mount for the princely sum of 80p. Hardly a novel concept but a constructive use of three minutes, an old reflector mount, tap washers, rubber shims, ¼ inch threaded bolt and two nuts it entertains most standard compact cameras and captures reasonable ride footage. Further refinements (rubber shims and wing nuts) will hopefully counteract irksome blurring vibration when hosting super zoom travel models. I’m undecided whether this is a consequence of a long lens and slightly whippy Nylon bracket, or indeed combination of both so comparison with Minoura’s beautifully machined aluminium version would be very interesting. Watch this space…

Spares bin scavenging also resurrected a beautiful stainless steel EAI superstar sprocket devoid of the bevelling designed to compensate for poor chainline on fixed gear conversions. Despite introducing its Halo predecessor with a healthy slathering of grease, removal demanded generous applications of penetrant and judicious persuasion from Pedro’s Vise whip.

While performing said surgery, I also happened upon some potentially nasty looking lesions in the Kojak’ casings, although these proved superficial, easily repaired using some premium grade super glue. Speaking of which, spring has finally sprung, snow tyres have been substituted for slicks and those Revolution trail Baggies are rapidly becoming the default option. Interesting framesets such as this mid to late 90’s 653 Ribble complete with internal cable guides, two tone livery and some curious superficial corrosion around the seat collar are awaiting makeover with Maldon Shot blasting & powder coating. Classic is one of those words, including Artisan (or indeed “Flavoursome”) banded around without discretion, although this particular offering is an excellent example of mid to late 90’s volume produced steel road frames.

Every now and then, I’m tempted to dress the Teenage Dream in a contemporary upper mid range groupset-Microshift Centos being an obvious choice but this would detract from its character and more importantly result in existing components needlessly languishing within the spares bin. Maybe when six-speed screw on freewheels finally go do-do a’la Maillard’s Helicomatic tool-free cassette system.

With a sporty touring shoes feature presently mid draft, its interesting that pedal choices for those wanting to retain the character of an eighties road bike are somewhat confined to clips n’ straps or Look/Keo patterns. However, Shimano’s single sided PDA520 have recently graced my doorstep. Marketed as touring pedal, they tip the scales at 278g and boast high lustre anodised aluminium bodies designed to age gracefully and moreover, distribute loads evenly.

Minimising fatigue/hotspots without blunting cornering prowess, racing horizons seem limited only by footwear choice and recessed cleats are infinitely more practical on an everyday basis. Some have called for electroplated axles, suggesting their existing finish is susceptible to the salt monster-I’ll reserve judgement for now, other than to suggest a quick preventative drop of winter weight, wet lube usually renders this problem academic.

Right, time I resumed my touring shoes group test and pitching book projects to potential publishers.

Graveyard Shift

Unseasonably low temperatures and weather fronts failed to relent through March and into April, so its been winter tights, booties, gloves, buffs and base layers as I’ve reclaimed the night. Sweeping through abandoned lanes between midnight and 2am unleashes a new dimension in riding pleasure and a genuinely better sense of perspective on life. Keyboard duties recommence at 9am until early evening whereupon a few TV/social breaks prove welcome.

Thus far, it’s done wonders for my mood and productivity. I’ve always found darkness the best time for evaluating bikes and equipment since it neutralises prejudice as we are guided by our senses. Riding blind, oblivious to whether a brifter is top flight or entry level gives a far more objective assessment of real world performance- I’ve often been surprised by how well budget components perform, even under some decidedly harsh contexts. Lower end derailleurs are a good choice for winter/daily drivers. First and foremost, they're relatively inexpensive to replace in the event of a bad spill and secondly, help disguise a bike's true worth from speculative thieves. 

Horsham based Atomic 22 sent me their revised tribe system, which are a set of sophisticated locking fasteners employing a unique key and can be “grown” to protect every component –including seat bolts, dropout hangers, bottle screws, quill stems and solid axles too. Precision made from aircraft grade titanium/stainless steel, they resist all the common forms of attack and go a long way to deterring the sort of crime where bikes are stolen, broken for spares and sold on through ebay/craigslist/gumtree etc. However, this doesn’t absolve the need for intelligent deployment of stout locks, location and street furniture.  

Took a drive down to Justin Burls the other week for a weapon’s inspection-for the benefit of global authorities, we’re talking titanium and beautifully brazed steel bicycle frames, not surface to air missiles or similar warheads. He’s been designing titanium frames with Torus bicycles and was keen to show me some new enamel badges and similarly exciting arrivals. www.burls.co.uk www.torusbicycles.co.uk/    

Testament to these exacting standards is “Old Faithful”; his first bespoke frameset dressed in the classic winter attire-old groupsets, Salmon Profil mudguards and smatterings of road salt. Those Rosso red two-pac painted Columbus tubes still ooze a quiet, timeless seductive refinement some fifteen years or so on. 

Cold doesn’t bother me per se, although I’m looking forward to some milder weather in order I can put these Revolution “tack” three quarter length baggies through their paces without donning extra long socks as a matter of absolute necessity. Statistically 3am is reckoned to be the most dangerous time to be navigating the road network, irrespective of vehicle (I’m usually cocooned in my duvet, cruising through the land of nod at this point in proceedings) but that aside, the standards of road craft demonstrated by some is terrifying, more so, the sense of bad driving being  a rite of passage and perfectly acceptable.

BBC three’s “Barely Legal Drivers” followed three sets of late teen/early twenty- something drivers who’s elephantine arrogance/ignorance goes a long way to explaining why insurance premiums are so high and accidents increasingly fatal. However, I was more gob smacked by  parental attitudes, which were largely accepting/condoning of excessive speeding, drunk/ hands-free driving (Oh bless, they’re clapping in time with the music). 

Seemingly desperate to reward their undisciplined offspring regardless, I strongly suspect said parents would blame a cyclist/motorcyclist or indeed another driver for being on the road in the event of a collision “S/he’s not at fault- you only have yourself to blame”.

Conscious of this drifting toward a tirade, my feeling is that we must all strive to continuously improve our road craft, irrespective whether we happen to be piloting a 15lb bicycle or fifteen tonne arctic.

The Sludge That Would Not Budge!

Several weeks’ almost daily service in suspiciously wintry conditions saw the Univega’s usually hygienic drivetrain assume that thick, sludgy ruinous paste. Pressure of deadlines has meant post ride wash and rises to prevent the salt monster moving in on the tubby tourer’s livery and brightwork but leaving an extremely tenacious synthetic wet chain prep  unsupervised had invited the wrong crowd.

Green oil’s range is amongst the best lubes and cleaning potions I’ve come across-easily on par with petrochemicals but without toxins or noxious synthetic odours. Budgeting for an intensive twenty-minute race around, I’d hoisted my beloved workhorse aloft the workstand and nipped to the garage for degreaser concentrate, bike wash, long handled wooden bicycle brush and bucket of nigh on boiling water. Emerging triumphant, things were progressing nicely as I dunked bristles in bucket, introduced some concentrate and breezed round the crankset akin to a blue bottle on speed, bringing the potent citrus potion to a very satisfying barbers’ lather.

Left to fizz, I drizzled some further concentrate from a smaller, pocket friendly container into the chain links and outer plates, contaminating the cassette by shifting in both directions along the block. Confident of good progress, I immersed said brush and tickled the chain rings. Arguably cleaner (and doubtless acceptable under normal, everyday circumstances) things still looked a little feted, so I repeated the initial treatment but with little improvement.  

Time management dictated recourse to petrochemicals, in this instance unleaded petrol applied using a T shirt from he clean rag pile (never leave those contaminated with solvents bunched together, or you’ll run the risk of them spontaneously combusting-especially during summer). Something of a mechanic’s standby and more aggressive than leaded stuff, so reluctantly eradicated on these shores (because lacing with the heavy, poisonous metal meant additional lubricant, thus car manufacturers could use cheaper materials for valve seats/related engine components) the presence of benzene and xylene still presents some very real health implications. 

To my dismay, Tosco’s finest 95octane proved impotent against this vile residue, calling for removal and intensive parts washer marinate. Having located 8mm Allen key and wound the crank bolt free, it was time to introduce my faithful Sugino extractor tool, only it had inexplicably seized solid (!) Firing some penetrative spray at point blank range, wrestling them apart using two 17mm ring spanners solved this and with it, expedient removal of cranks from tapers. 

   

In full evangelist mode, I decanted the now tepid water from the bucket and added fresh concentrate, mixed with white vinegar for additional bite.

Some five minutes later sleet began descending from the skies so I relocated to the kitchen. Flicking on the radio brought chancellor George Osborne’s  carefully crafted, rousing budget speech peppered with expertly delivered empty  clichéd rhetoric, designed to whip Essex man and Worcester woman into an orgasmic frenzy. “Aspiration nation” and “hard working families” being this year’s slogans; although there seems little coherent strategy save for remaining in power and hoping a boom in new build housing with state underwritten mortgages will bolster morale’ and prove the antidote to a seemingly flat-lining “zombie” economy.

Nonetheless, well channelled anger can be power and five minutes frenetic scrubbing later, my cranks emerged suitably pristine. I took the opportunity of removing some congealed gunge from the bottom bracket’s splined interface, wiped the taper and sped the arms home again… Lessons have been learned.

Snowvega...An Ode To Winter Tyres

Easterly winds, freezing temperatures and heavy snowfall couldn’t stop me coming out to play thanks to its rugged dependability further accentuated by those Schwalbe Winter tyres. Gone is the gravelly pitter-patter, replaced by gentle swooshing as deep chevron treads parted white powdery carpets and tungsten carbide studs bit into compacted underlay. Flicking down the cassette for extra momentum, my gloves’ outer membrane proved little match for the harsh Arctic blasts as it swooped with us, through the exposed and untreated lanes.

Small cars and agricultural, diesel engined commercial wagons slither past, almost in slow motion for fear of losing traction. Straight sections see our tempo increase, fourteen; sometimes fifteen miles per hour-tempered by my consciousness’ reminder that respect must always preside over complacency in these conditions.

Snow clinging to mudguards, chainstays, rear derailleur body and beneath the bottom bracket shell is rapidly turning to ice as we pass remote yet busy garages from a time before plug-in diagnostics ruled supreme. Though closed, trade is brisk judging by the forecourts hosting 07 plate SUVs, forty- year old MG BGT and middle aged Fords.

Checking over my shoulder, indicating left at the junction, there’s nothing coming- we’re homeward bound now, maintaining a steady course. My mind drifts but not far, to the test reports I’ve to finish, the opportunities that need chasing before contemplating the welfare of those closest to me.

Menacing cobalt skies, heavily pregnant with further snowfall have me questioning whether day glow  jacket /vest should’ve accompanied suitably garish gloves. Fifteen minutes later. I’m home; carrying said tubby tourer across the threshold and longing for warming, caffeine-laden refreshment but otherwise ready to begin another day at the keyboard. 

In The Buff (Beware The Ides of March)

I am of course referring to the Uber versatile microfibre Coolmax polyester multifunctional headwear, not some subversive form of racing or lewd, “hacked” images supposedly compromising some Z list zombie.

This clever little do-rag has been with us in ever evolving guises since 1992 and can be worn in a variety of fashions-from the classic Marco Pantani "pirate" or Robert Shaw “bind your skull together” bandanas to flowing Lawrence of Arabia/ French foreign legion fashion to hide helmet hair or indeed protect against sun/heatstroke. This season’s fibres have been tweaked to block 95% of UV rays, while providing even greater odour control, courtesy of a silver yarn (if it works well in short inserts then it’ll do its thing pretty much anywhere!).

They’ve also added a nifty neoprene visor to proceedings, which doesn’t detract from the garments classic ‘stuff in a jersey simplicity and works rather well beneath classic road shaped helmets, sheltering eyes from the sun’s glare and winter’s wrath. Talk of the devil. He’s been making a swift; callus return following a few days’ bright spring-like conditions and local authority/highways agencies have been gritting fervently too, so I expect to see well dressed winter dobbins plodding on obediently for several weeks yet. 

Chrome is a slippery customer, quite popular on older steel trainers but contrary to popular opinion, extremely vulnerable to winter’s worst. Assuming you didn’t want the stained, distressed look or the hassle of regular waxing, a decent finisher could preserve forks under a durable powder coat lacquer (two-pac would be a good choice if you weren’t assured of the electroplates’ pedigree).

£10 upwards is a guide price, assuming no other prep’s required. DIY acrylic stuff works well enough on small areas such as carrier stays but simple economics says outsourcing is the best option- it’ll be applied in a sterile environment and won’t wrinkle, peel or yellow over time. I was recently writing a magazine feature about winter riding in its most holistic sense and had cause to query Justin (Burls) re Old faithfuls’ present spec, since it’s in many respects the archetypal winter trainer. Aside from this and friendly, generic catch ups, he happened to mention some very exciting titanium stuff on the brew, including forks- more about this when I’ve seen them in the flesh. 

Spring remains a busy time for builds n’ makeovers. However, there’s no shortage of Stetson wearing lassoers jumping on the specialist finisher/ powder coating bandwagon. Take this 6061 Cross-country MTB frameset with fresh polar white livery- cursory inspection suggests bubbles have formed during liquefaction in the curing oven-a particularly common but easily corrected fault that occurs among non ferrous metals. However, in this instance, overly aggressive application of/blast media has blown holes through the thin walled tubing. Prep elsewhere is equally slapdash-choked bottom bracket threads and head tube over spray is inexcusable, even by job lot standards.

Maybe its coincidence but there seems more riders than usual on the roads this past week or so, which is always heartening and raises issues of greeting etiquette. Notions of us all being “one big club” are perhaps, somewhat naïve-why should we wave inanely at perfect strangers. However, a reciprocal nod or similar acknowledgement is nice. 

Spain was passionately pro cyclist at one point but a new set of draconian legislation has been rolled out in their parliament. This might sound of little consequence to the UK were it not for the sudden emergence of fringe, single issue groups capitalising on voter indifference, or resentment towards mainstream, established parties. Little is known about their underlying agendas/ beliefs and what this means for a nation and its people…I for one am very perturbed. Cycling could then be banned from public roads, passed through on inaccurate road tax rhetoric; the national minimum wage could be circumnavigated or indeed abolished by use of unpaid internships to name but a few sinister scenarios. 

Ending on a more cheerful note, I’ve been recycling an old set of well travelled Schwalbe; most notably turning them into these voluptuous mud flaps. Cutting through the casings and to size was a doddle once I’d sawn through the folding Kevlar beads-sturdy kitchen scissors did the trimming. Mudguard mounting proved strangely convoluted though. I’d hoped to drill through the chrome plastic before pop riveting the flap in situ but those tough carcasses proved too thick. Eventually I bolted them aboard with stainless steel hardware and 10mm nut, trimming the former with croppers and filing flat. Being brutally honest, shop bought would’ve been more cost effective but there’s something deeply satisfying about making bespoke stuff from reclaimed scrap.

The (positive) Remains Of The Day

Delighted to report seasonally inclement weather has permitted extensive testing of those Schwalbe winter tyres. Tipping the scales at 998g apiece, 50epi (ends per inch) casings, Kevlar belts, tungsten carbide spikes and maximum operating pressure of 70psi denote ones designed to cope competently with the slippery season. Schwalbe recommend running them in for forty kilometres on metalled road before those studs bite predictably and I noticed some very minor cornering squirm on our maiden voyages but nowhere near change of shorts territory.

Having done so, traction on most surfaces is superb, although in common with similar designs, ice and shallow snow requires a steady, consistent riding style. More spirited acceleration; say at roundabouts and junctions can induce pregnant pauses before the spikes catch up but this wasn’t an issue at a steady 17mph along winding rural backwaters.

Once accustomed to their gravelly serenade, I rather enjoyed the training benefits of increased resistance and the smugness of knowing that stretches of iced dung were unlikely to see us clattering across the rutted carriageway in an undignified heap. Provocative over inflation and long, greasy descents couldn’t cajole shimmy or similar bad manners either, even with trailer en tow. Aramid has long been the standard by which puncture repelling casings are judged but the chevron pattern tread expels glass, flints and similarly evil debris with remarkable aplomb while Kevlar belts provide further peace of mind.

Studs wear much faster (especially in regions where snow is an occasional winter visitor) but with negligible effect, tempered by the availability of aftermarket replacements and seasonal use. At seventy odd quid, it’s tempting to suggest they’re an indulgence but means I have the option of heading out in otherwise unfavourable conditions after a hard day’s typing or temping without doing myself and/or machine a mischief. 

Continuing this theme, having heard of my recently demised levers, Paul Winn at Weldtite www.weldtite.co.uk was kind enough to send me two sets of these banana- shaped Cyclo Ezytech. Sharing striking similarity with Pedro’s, they’re made from a lightweight and supposedly super durable polymer.

Broader profiles and more aggressive scoops suggest they’re dependably tenacious with tight beads but I’m going to push the boat out and invest in the British marque’s laughably understated workshop tyre removal and fitting tool and chain rivet extractor for home duties. That said; both cool tool and Specialized EMT are still doing surprisingly well (I nearly said sterling job but that’s inappropriate given the nation’s recent credit downgrade).

    

Ever since spotting a child’s home brewed ‘cross build based around a scrap HLE Peugeot frame that had been chopped, MIG welded together and dressed in leftover paint and parts, I have wanted to create something similar for Joshua. From a purely economic standpoint, the amount of labour involved in sourcing, cutting and fusing such a Franken bike far outstrips its worth. Timely then that Frog bikes have sent me their model 62, a lightweight kids bike tipping the scales at just under ten kilos.

A TIG welded 6061 aluminium chassis (designed for 62cm inside leg), steel fork and 24-inch wheels mean it’s not only light but versatile too thanks to generous frame clearances. OEMs are 1.75 but there’s ample clearance for 1.9 knobblies and trail riding courtesy of a surprisingly lofty bottom bracket. Components are proportionally sized, addressing maters of reach, comfort and control. Transmission wise, a single ring, seven-speed twist grip system offers a decent spread of ratios without being unnecessarily complicated or hefty. However, Joshua will have the casting vote in a few weeks.

Taking an inspirational wander round the web in search of people’s bare bones budget bike builds I happened upon a blog called “Lovely Bicycle” written from a uniquely feminine perspective by a freelance consultant, designer and photographer, who embraces everything from frame building and classic roadsters to dressing beyond Lycra without being biased in any particular direction. I also admire creativity skill and entrepreneurial spirit. Something in plentiful supply at Dill Pickle gear owned and run by Emily O’Brien.

Emily is a mile-munching Massachusetts lady who not only loves pickles and Limericks but also makes a beautiful range of saddlebags; U lock totes and even mud flaps- for your fenders, or guards as we say in the UK. Well, until her (luggage) sample arrives, I’m going to upgrade the Univega’s stoppers, draft some more copy, watch a Korean film or two and scour temp land for something suitable.     

Positive Changes

Change your weather; change your luck, then I’ll teach you how to…find yourself. Well, perhaps not quite that profound but I managed to slip away to the midlands for a few days and return with a renewed sense of purpose.

Perspective and priorities realigned, copy that had felt baggy and lifeless was swept into shape Mary Poppins ‘ fashion. Piles of creativity sapping drafts, notes and calling cards ruthlessly expelled through the shredder, leaving behind a relatively clean workspace.

Timely then that another tide of tasty test goodies should lap at my shore, including these Time Alium (shaving a further 226g from the Ilpompino), a quirky yet remarkably competent Selle Royal Perch and this ultra chic weatherproof, breathable jacket from Urban 34. Their entire range is really seductive, so scooting moderate distances to work and looking instantly presentable upon arrival (save perhaps for some tell-tale helmet hair) is now a reality.

Admittedly, driven by messenger chic, street styled threads have been coming on tap a while now but these folks and Oregon based “Showers Pass” have brought it to a new level. Early impressions are extremely favourable and I’m revelling in the ability to break away from the keyboard, pop out for a ride, passing by the bank with a few cheques and making other business appointments without feeling underdressed or compromised in the saddle.

Elsewhere, Joshua returned from a quick, unaccompanied blast announcing his solo’s tyre had exploded (!) Closer inspection suggested the resplendent hiss was merely a common or garden puncture (the god of blowouts was merciful this particular morning, clearly recognising I was clean out of 20x1.75 tubes).

Persuading the non-descript knobbly from its steel hoop required the combined efforts of three tyre levers, agricultural language and superhuman thumbs. Having extracted the tube, chasing round the tyre carcass uncovered a particularly gruesome shard of glass and another sharp burrowing inward. However, rim tape was sound and the tube easily patched.

Ironically I’d just written a puncture prevention and repair piece, so emailed photos sequentially to him should it strike again. I’m not overly keen on children having potable devices per se, not least since firewall and similar security software lags ten years behind that of desktops. That said; I also recognise their benefits when used carefully. Refitting was markedly easier, although puts a not too distant future tyre upgrade and workshop quality tyre fitter on the cards.  

My first puncture struck when I was thirteen. Haring round the sweeping back doubles aboard my Holdsworthy built Butler, there was this sudden slow but audible procession of air escaping the front 25mm section Hutchinson.

A local farmer took pity on me and tried to help, reasoning it might just be a leaky Presta valve. He belted what must’ve been forty odd Psi inside courtesy of said steeds’ bargain basement frame fit AFA in the hope It’d hold the last mile or so.

It didn’t so I walked home and sought solace not from my father but Uncle Benny’s- he’d had a 531 framed Dawes road bike in his teens and was more mechanically minded. Continuing the tyre theme, I’ve managed a few brief outings with those spiked Schwalbe to ensure they don’t shed the spikes during the first wave of icy weather.

Modest weight and their more generic winter design brief translates into a friskier ride than comparable models I’ve tried thus far-although obviously remaining upright takes precedence over warp-speed hossing in these conditions. Hmm, coupled to mono-wheel trailers and I’m starting to feel another seasonal, niche’ sport coming on.

Been pleasantly surprised by this Weldtite TF2 wet lube too.

A little still goes a long way but middleweight consistency looks to offer similar protection without succumbing to stodgy shifts or pied piper gloop enticing tendencies. Wonder how we’ll fare two hundred miles down the line. On that note I’m off to craft another caffeine fuelled first draft… Assuming my home brewed kettle de-scaler’s done its job.