Falling Leaves

Been a productive but tough couple of weeks, “Belgian Mix” has been satisfactorily reworked, so I’ve turned my attentions to some children’s fiction since I’m on a mission to explore additional horizons and opportunity presents. Autumn is showing visible signs of its imminent arrival and with it, renewal of the workshop roof in favour of something more substantial before renewal becomes urgent.

Other creative opportunities have presented themselves and are being pursued with renewed tenacity coupled with a sense of tentative optimism. Not exclusive to the “creative” industries but seemingly endemic is the expectation that people will supply goods and services for nothing- I’ve had several encounters of this nature recently, treating them with the contempt they deserve. I have often accepted payment in kind, or on a barter basis but refuse to indulge in the sweat shop mentality-doing so, encourages a downward spiral, rather akin to buying stolen goods and wondering why one’s home/business becomes a target for theft. Remunerate fairly and skilled people will reciprocate. 

Commissioning solely on price has major repercussions-many an “Uncle Bob” with “professional looking equipment” has shot their niece’s wedding with disastrously second-rate results, copious tears and family rifts. Sure you can get a gas combi boiler refit for £500 but don’t expect to find recompense when carbon monoxide or major explosion rips through your lives-said contractor will have saddled their horse, ridden off into the sunset without so much as a tax code, let alone public liability cover and Corgi accreditation. Never mind, household insurers are bound to be sympathetic…

For the time being I have shelved the idea of qualifying as a masseuse, since singular, professionally recognised qualifications seem rare as the proverbial rocking horse dropping and I don’t want to pursue a three year beauty therapy route, only for my extended skillset to be mooted by gender. However, opportunities can materialise unexpectedly so I’ll continue along other paths for now.

Toyed with re configuring the Univega’s front end to include an Alpina dynohub with disc mounts but the practical advantages are outweighed by unnecessary retirement of perfectly good components, while serving to increase its theft appeal. Nonetheless, I’ve invested in another Dcup lower race and Weldtite have sent me their steerer cutter, so front end surgery is definitely on the cards. Thirty thousand miles and countless shifts later it’s eight speed LX rear mech has been pensioned off in favour of this remarkably competent Microshift M45, an 8/9spd unit broadly on terms with the Japanese giant’s Alivio but a wee bit cheaper.

Ours was the long cage model for seriously wide ratios (11-34 teeth anyone) though, there’s a shorter cage sibling, which will save scarce few grams but might canter across the block fractionally faster. No surprise to see its now sporting the LX crankset, which is better finished not to mention (258g) lighter than its Alivio predecessor’s drive side alone, largely attributable to aluminium alloy rings. 

So then, we now have an eclectic ensemble of eight/nine speed mech, commanded by 8/9speed brifters, 9speed crankset, eight speed chain, cassette and fifteen year old STX front mech.  Everything was pretty much plug n’ play, save for the latter but even this this complied when fed a fresh cable and tweaked judiciously. Quintessentially crude, models of similar calibre appear pretty tolerant of mixing n’ matching and serves to scotch popular lore suggesting such configurations will never work to genuinely acceptable standards.

We’ll see how far it lags behind in another fifteen hundred miles or so, by which point I shall put the existing Sun Race and KMC consumables out to pasture, marking 108,000 miles on the tubby tourer and its continued evolution into nine speed-by default, rather than design. Well, that brings this entry to a natural conclusion-time I drafted a few pitches and copied my late father’s Open University series from VHS cassette to DVD.    

Planet Bong

Arguably the place where our political elite inhabit much of their waking hours while the greater majority of us employ a pragmatic make do n’ mend philosophy, it’s also a fascinating shop in Leamington Spa. The “usual projects” now includes redrafting of short fiction since I can’t stand essentially robust copy languishing in the hard drive. In this instance the resurrection of “Belgian Mix” http://www.63xc.com/michaels/belgianmix.htm, ring fencing a couple of hours daily with a view to satisfactory completion come September’s swansong. Mastering time management- working efficiently by another name is one of the most rewarding and essential freelancer skills. Close of last week, words and paragraphs had begun merging into a homogeneous, almost unintelligible mass, so I left a few, otherwise decent drafts marinating and headed up country to spend some time behind the lens.

Returning recharged, these and other pieces were drummed into shape and despatched to their intended recipients. Crafting pitches can prove similarly exhausting and responses, affirmative or otherwise can be several weeks hence. Glancing over at my test bench, there’s been a tsunami of enticing goodies including this beautifully crafted titanium from Torus Cycles (Justin Burls & Andy Jones).

Ours was the 27.2, 400m version, though its inline version caters for time trialists and others preferring to be poised directly over the bottom bracket shell. 264g is perhaps heavy by carbon standards but machining is exquisite and the wonder material oozes an unmistakable zing across inclement surfaces without feeling remotely whippy. Similarly £125 is hardly small change but there’s no call for planned retirement since 3AL 2.5v is particularly immune to fatigue (excluding incidence of phenomenal abuse).

Do remember those cursory licks of ti prep where it enters the seat tube, not forgetting cradle hardware. Thundering along the lanes under its spell, my serenity was rudely interrupted by a phantom squeak-something I wrongly attributed to the aluminium bolts until discovering my fixer’s crank bolt had mysteriously worked loose. Snugged tight using a leggy T handled 8mm Allen key, said fiend piped up again five miles hence. Introducing the torque wrench and a few extra nm resolved the issue.

Our climate has turned disarmingly autumnal these past few days, coinciding with the receipt of these similarly space age corrosion- inhibiting Protecht brews. The ultimate formula is an extremely powerful one that cures to a dry, clear and seemingly dirt phobic state. Supposedly acid and salt resistant, said qualities are ideally suited for mothballing decorative electroplate, anodised and polished surfaces either in storage or pretty ferrous winter bikes dripping in the stuff. BG innovations (the marque’s UK importer) are suitably tight lipped when broached about composition but suggest its ultra invasive and withstands operating temperatures of +50 degrees. Logical then that I’ve deployed ours within thin walled steel framesets, trailers, tagalongs and of course, the Ka’s notoriously grot prone regions. Initial impressions are extremely favourable, surprisingly economical too but a harsh winter will be more revealing.

Far from a watered down version, the advanced sibling is slightly waxy and arguably more versatile preserve that remains functional at 650 degrees-unsurprising perhaps given both were initially conceived for automotive audiences. Another excellent internal rust inhibitor, commendable on external plated surfaces so long as you weren’t mortified by the steady cultivation of a thin, grimy layer. Unlike Vaseline, electrical connectivity is accentuated without risking subsequent galvanic corrosion, thus ideal for dynamo connectors, computer/blinky battery terminals and similar gizmos directly in scuzzy water’s firing line. Suffice to say that VDO X1DW cadence sensor hasn’t missed a beat even fully submerged for three consecutive miles.

Maldon Shot blasting and powder coating were keen to show me their new range of powder finishes freshly imported from the states-beautiful but with some bizarre, almost mirth inducing monikers. This SE jump frame being a case in point. I’d call it lime green but Trevor tells me its actually “Shocking Yellow” applied atop a chrome effect base coat. Cost implications are around the £110 mark depending on host material and what nasties’ blasting uncovers. Remember those sound but slightly scabby “school chair” forks I’d earmarked for the Univega’s front end? Well, Trevor generously refinished them in a rich gloss black free of charge-a lovely gesture and very welcome just now.

Another Fait Accompli

Well frankly it was, credit card materializing within my fevered fingers as if driven by occult forces. £29.99 lighter and several minutes later, said square taper LX crankset was winging its way here. 

Presently cocooned within bubble wrap, I’m denying child like urges to undertake transplant surgery since the Alivio remains in extremely rude health. Once the existing chain, cassette and late middle-aged LX mech sing their swansongs, I’ll give said tubby workhorse’s Microshift brifters responsibility for an extra sprocket and take advantage of readily available mid range consumables. Besides, time management will be a familiar concept to most freelancers. The ability to escape for a ride, introduce new equipment etc on my own terms is deeply liberating but with such reward comes great responsibility/discipline.

Submitting successive, decent features/book proposals is exhausting, it can take several weeks for their recipients’ response, especially during what’s dubbed “The silly season”. In press parlance this has traditionally referred to freelancers stepping in to fill the boots of more established anchor folk while the world and their offspring are reading trashy airport novels on a beautiful beach somewhere or just mingling at late summer barbecues. For some it’s an ideal opportunity to demonstrate their true potential, though easily leads some people punching above their weight.

I regularly listen to Women’s Hour while slaving over a hoit keyboard, primarily because I find the differing perspectives on a wealth of subjects are delivered with considerable insight and ownership by Jenni Murray/Jan Garvey.Alas, I found myself increasingly irritated by Kirstie Allsopp’s feature exploring women's childbirth choices. Clearly very passionate  she couldn't execute with sufficient authority and the piece felt closer to the standards I'd expect from an A level media studies student than seasoned broadcast journalist. 

More convincing than the recent litigation brought forward by supposedly disillusioned readers of Lance Armstrong’s inspirational works though. I read the first while holidaying in Rome but never really bought into the franchise or fairytale. Suing Armstrong on the grounds of fraudulent misrepresentation strikes me as little more than a deeply cynical means of financial gain and marginally less irksome than a decidedly aggressive young man who ploughed into my  Endura engined Ford Ka back in 2006.

He (successfully I might add) sued me for “hurt feelings”. Against this and a backdrop of increasingly fractious road encounters, I lost no time in renewing my third party cycling cover. Pragmatically, I have little qualm about this since it reinforces the message that bicycles/tandems/recumbents are vehicles with equal rights/responsibilities when navigating the public highway.

Parallels with Armstrong’s case might be somewhat tentative, though illustrate how eager people are, especially in less favourable fiscal circumstance to seek easy financial remuneration.  Negotiating some deeply deprived neighbourhoods on a daily basis for many years left little doubt that people would wantonly stray into my path, seeking damages, spurred on by the relentless barrage of television advertisements.

Collision with a car could also result in the owner/driver seeking financial redress for repairs. Simple and relatively inexpensive cover is often available through clubs/organisations, typically with some sort of legal support. Obviously, this wouldn’t stem the claims culture outlined above but it might go someway to muting disturbingly mainstream assertions that people choosing to use human powered vehicles are reckless reprobates needing institutional help. Sadly, we have it seems, also reverted to an insidious “Asking for it” misogynist mindset-even amongst young women, some of whom would readily identify themselves as feminist. ...

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Sharper Focus

Resisting a New Old Stock square taper Shimano LX crank spotted for the paltry sum of £29 required phenomenal resolve but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the Univega’s existing Alivio unit. Steel rings might well be regarded as low rent  though have some considerable advantages on a bike turning big mileages in all weathers-longevity being the most obvious. Lowlier groupsets aren’t nearly so seductive to light fingered types either, especially those with shopping lists who might pop back with reinforcements/appropriate tooling another time. Monies are better deployed on new/upgraded photographic equipment-reflectors, ring flashes, backdrops and contemporary editions of Photoshop right now.   

Progression continues on the book front too, with contact from a well-known US publisher showing promise but this is no time for self-congratulatory back slapping, or complacency for that matter. Have also been reaching out further into the US market features wise with mixed results-some only to keen to explore possibilities, others a pronounced indifference and in some cases downright hostility.

This latter emotion is something all too prevalent within twitter land, where distinct, troll-esque cyclist hatred has developed. Most of the commentary is vile, inarticulate stuff from those bright young things who, despite supposedly unprecedented academic results fail to recognise that bragging about assault and driving while under the influence of alcohol/ other, prohibited substances on social media has severe consequences. I have also noticed an insidious and equally disturbing misogynistic undercurrent flowing with phenomenal force. Once considered the preserve of bitter middle aged men, young women seem to have bought into this wholesale, sickening nastiness making its progression all the more clandestine. 

Steering back from the brink, there’s been some lovely kit arriving on my test bench these past few weeks.Recent “heatwaves” have underlined the importance of hydration.  Axiom’s ripple cages come in both stainless and titanium forms and show some obvious nods in the direction of Nitto’s phenomenally delicate-looking R series shown here adorning the Teenage Dream’s seat tube. However, 4.2 and 4mm diameter tubing respectively make better hosts to full 750ml bidons. Oh and while I’m on the subject, look elsewhere and to something carbon/composite if you’ve leanings toward aluminium SIGG or thermos types such as Elite’s Deboyo. The latter not only keeps tipples, soups etc at their desired temperature but is designed for cage and er, civilian duties -perfect for crisp December cyclo cross meets and long hauls in the car too. 

Sometimes I’m passed things with considerably more to them than meets the eye. Take this Strider. Cursory inspection suggests there’s a fag paper separating it from a host of similar hobby horses. However, Ryan McFarland (founder and current CEO) hails from a highly competitive, not to mention mechanically minded family.

Once a moto crosser, McFarland came over to mountain biking and gave us the mighty “thud buster” suspension seatpost before developing the Strider with help from his two young protégé’s. The Mk4 seen here now features powder coated livery, sealed cartridge bearings and improved EVA tyre tread for reduced rolling resistance. An undeniably brilliant teaching aid capable of spurring the quickest learners to bicycles proper in a matter of days, the inability to retrofit transmission is something of a missed opportunity. Depending on individual children, this may mean something like Frog’s aluminium framed 43 or Isla bikes CNOC represent better investments, especially for those nearing school age. 

Now to the issue of friction-we all know to drizzle magic potions on our chains but the numbers of folk who needlessly succumb to blistering/saddle sores never ceases to amaze me. Ok, so we’ve come a long way since the like of Coppi, Anquitel and Simson shoved raw steaks between their more intimate regions and not so supple genuine chamois. Most of us use synthetic pads with Coolmax wicking fibres and silver that not only keep us cool and relatively odour free but can be tossed in the machine wash at forty degrees without further ado. However, long hauls, especially breaking in traditional leather saddles can introduce a fair bit of discomfort. I’m not alone in thinking that natural ingredients are the way forward, especially on products applied next or directly to my skin, let alone genitalia. Home Scents, a small company based in the North East of England thought I might fancy putting their sensitive skin formula through its paces.  

Credit where due, they don’t fudge matters when it comes to full and frank disclosure of ingredients and some fairly long outings atop a virgin Brooks B17 suggest it’s a pretty good bet, on par with some household names I’ve done some serious time with.  Aside from the wedge pack friendly 100g tube, ours also came in thimble pots for quick top-ups-perfect for those weekenders. That said, post ride scrub offs in the shower are imperative to prevent blocked pores leading to potential infection. Right then, time to diiiismount and arrange another helmet for Joshua since he's just advised me his beloved Giro lid is about to collect its pension!    

Death of a Wingman

Alas after a particularly spirited coastal ride atop my handlebars, an untimely, slow-speed spill saw my cutesy little camcorder friend choke seemingly to death, having ingested seawater. Despite concerted resuscitation efforts at the scene, he hasn’t so much as flickered since.

Now, I am culpable on two counts (sob) (a) having left his airtight polycarbonate house at home since I wasn’t planning on getting near the water’s edge or indeed anything more challenging than smooth singletrack. (b) I opened the casing in an attempt to avert disaster. Arguably the most effective means of voiding warranties perhaps but nonetheless I approached Delkin Europe, volunteering this information with a view to repair (at cost to yours truly).

Cynics will be rolling their eyes but in my experience, shaggy dog stories quickly become apparent and their purveyors treated with palpable contempt…Hmm yes, TIG welded 4130 mountain bike framesets failing catastrophically while “Just riding along”, rear mechs that suddenly fail after a fortnight. So that ten-foot drop-off hadn’t a hand in things…Bottom line, pros of any description aren’t silly, quickly spot tell-tale signs of abuse/neglect/tampering and are justly unappreciative of having their intelligence insulted.

A few polite emails later reveals these units are literally factory fit n’ forget, thus cannot be repaired in the event of impact or water damage. Ultimately, we couldn’t reach a mutually agreeable arrangement regarding a replacement  so with no hard feelings, I’ll put it down to experience and keep my eyes peeled for a comparable alternative. By contrast, that VDO X1DW literally hasn’t missed a beat these past few weeks and is much easier to install/calibrate than the plethora of cable ties might suggest. Solid, reliable technology and eleven functions provide plenty of useful data for generic training without feeling overly complex.

While busy, the display stops short of overcrowded-it took several outings before I noticed the little pacer arrow that sets an encouraging as removed from nagging tone. Unlike speed sensors, wireless cadence units still tend to be reliable by varying degrees, reliant upon magnets passing a hair’s breadth from their metaphorical mother ship. Attaching the former to differing profiles of crank arm seems to be another chore since zip ties show a tendency for slippage with subsequent loses of connectivity. Fear not, the VDO is very quick to announce this fact courtesy of a flashing zero tucked adjacent to current speed, though thankfully this vanishes after ninety seconds or so, thus not distracting rider attention, or spoiling an otherwise satisfying ride.

Creature of the night, I consider backlights invaluable and its omission a slightly disappointing oversight but one I’m prepared to overlook when build quality and asking price are factored into the equation. Elsewhere, the book venture has been gathering further momentum-managed to fit in another 3,000 words, which doesn’t sound particularly notable but little and often is markedly better than bouts of sporadic intensity. 

A pronounced silence from traditional publishers draws me ever closer to the world of electronic e-book type, something of a dent to my fragile male ego perhaps but having it languishing in hard drives and memory sticks isn’t an option. I laid down a personal challenge to get a book to publishable state before hitting forty-a milestone thing that would draw a positive line under the previous decade. Talking of which, having left theatre following corrective surgery to my crushed digit, a woman working in a quasi-nursing/patient liaison role blundered into the side room where I was decanting gowns in favour of street togs and seemed determined to probe. Like most people, I have some minor insecurity body-wise - scarring from welding and others acquired from cycling/motorcycling specifically.

For the most part I don’t give them a second thought, though she seemed oblivious to the verbal cues indicating that I wanted a few moments privacy to button my shirt. Had she asked if it were permissible to converse with me while I finished dressing, I could’ve gently asked her to leave but instead she continued to pry, focusing upon my age, what I was planning to do for my fortieth birthday etc. I’m also a little sensitive about my age these days but only in relation to attainment. Introspection of this kind was extremely unwelcome, however well-intentioned… 

Long steady evening saunters on the fixer have resumed, restoring my confidence accordingly. Much to my surprise, Purple Harry dry lube is also proving pretty competitive, returning 160 miles from a single helping. Unlike the Finish Line Ceramic Wax, it employs a plant based ethylene thickener, which remains pretty flammable, though has lesser environmental impact than boron nitride and similar petrochemical agents. Assuming you’ve introduced as per instructions, left curing for sixty minutes or so before heading off; staying power is surprisingly good. In common with other emulsion types a slightly grimy patina proliferates the links given thirty miles, whereupon it steadily flakes away, leaving behind a seemingly invisible PTFE coating yet no hint of that familiar metallic tinkling.

Contrary to some other markedly similar formulas it also works wonders on other interfaces, namely cleats, jockey wheels and even control cables without recourse to unexpected water displacer surgery on account of them gumming up given a week or so. Soggier conditions take their toll on outright longevity, dipping to sixty-five miles between top-ups when negotiating soft singletrack but reapplications in most other contexts can be direct sans chain bath/ scrubbing. These attributes shouldn’t be overlooked in a touring context either, though be prepared to reapply more frequently in damp and indeed humid conditions. Speaking of touring, you’ll have to excuse me; this here Raleigh Sojourn’s a calling…

Fixed (Almost Claims) Finger

This is one of those urban myth turns disturbingly real moments on a par with the infamous worn shoe cleat incident back in 2008. Having reverted to some 25mm thick slicks and given the Ilpompino a quick blow over with this here Purple Harry bike wash, I was cleansing the transmission with a cloth dipped in Shell’s finest when a moment’s distraction saw my index fingers sandwiched between revolving 1/8^th half-link track chain and razor sharp EAI sprocket.

Those initial seconds of panic suggested partially severed digit but ten hours in accident and emergency revealed “severe crush injuries”-fractured fingertip, badly damaged nail bed and related complications. To their credit, the empathy and professionalism shown by surgical and nursing staff was truly phenomenal and serves to illustrate how fortunate we in the UK are to have a national health service of this calibre. However, successive administrations have been eroding this precious resource, or undermining its credibility with frightening stealth.

Subsequent visit meant seven hours wait, thirty-five minutes under local anaesthetic as the surgeon skilfully flush the wounded area with saline and disinfectant before removing the nail bed, suturing damaged tissues. Since then I’ve partaken in a cathartic “hair of the dog” ritual, drizzling fresh lube into each and every link in much he same fashion as we might hop back on following a spill to prevent aversion/irrational fear taking hold. Having repatriated bike, workstand and assorted potions to their rightful place in the garage, it occurs to me that for the most part magic bike wash formulas are variations upon a relatively similar theme.

More aggressive types contain greater intensities of ionic surfactants, commonly found in domestic detergents, which while effective, can ultimately lead to streaking and in some cases corrosion around eyelets, sometimes plated/polished sections too. That said, this is easily countered with periodic furniture polish/polymer wax treatments. Gentler formulas are kinder, albeit higher maintenance-especially when witches’ brews of road specific grime’s involved.   

So, what have we learned from this particular tale of woe? Always use a long handled brush and turn the wheel, as apposed to cranks cautiously when fettling chains-that goes for single-speeds too- you have been warned. Hope this episode hasn’t spooked Joshua since he’s been revelling in two-wheeled freedom these past few weeks.

Incident aside, the majority of that week was spent aboard the Teenage Dream, which is as rewarding as ever to ride once I’d cured the Regina screw on block’s protesting pawl springs with a few drops of winter weight Weldtite wet lube and substituted the Prolite Cles for this droop snoot Selle SMP strike plus cutaway. The otherwise technically superlative grey polymer bar wrap has started looking decidedly jaded-hence will be superseded by these rather ravishing Ritchey reels but that’s about the extent of modification. Oldie but goodie, we dropped two macho boys who drew alongside with a competitive stance while said twenty something and I whizzed serenely through the twisties. Regular Thursday nighter’s who’ve shown laden Univega and I a clean set of hoops on several occasions, they seemed more than a little surprised when I cruised past, giving considerably greater clearance than they typically afford me.

 One clung to my rear wheel in a desperate attempt to save face (overtaken by a fella riding a friction shift-oh the shame!) but rapidly relented as tempo and gradients increased. I’m all for a bit of friendly competition but don’t take kindly to etiquette that belongs in bunch sprints, not sleepy backwaters. 

Overtake so as not to almost nudge bars, or causing the “slower” rider to brake sharply to avoid collision. Shame I wasn’t wearing the wingman that evening- would’ve made good footage. Speak of the devil, slightly wibble prone handlebar bracket and irksome micro (as opposed to fully fledged) SD card aside, I’m really chuffed by the little camera, which delivers audio/visual feedback on par with Go Pro’s hero and has as many mounts as one could possibly crave.

Will try and upload some evidence in the coming weeks once a 32gb card arrives and my braking hand has healed satisfactorily. Continuing this disciplined theme comes the book’s resurrection with a provisional Christmas completion date. Approaches to established publishers have reaped relatively little reward, historically and currently so I may succumb to the lure of Amazon’s e-book platform, if only to ensure its tangible existence.  

Lotions, Potions & Forward Motions

So there I was having a furtive wander round cyberspace following a hunch about badge engineered high power lighting systems when Delkin’s wingman should slip under my radar. A marque better known for electronic data storage, 8mpxle still camera mode, full 1080hd, waterproof casing and compliment of mounts merited closer inspection. 

Build quality and maiden voyages with it strapped to my bonce n’ bars appear promising but the next few weeks will determine its worth as a documentary film-making tool.

Generally speaking, I’ve got along very cheerfully with Finish line’s range of lubes n’ potions and their ceramic wax is no exception. As the name suggests, it’s one of the super runny genre designed to keep transmissions silent and spotlessly clean.

In keeping with several broadly comparable formulas, we’ve a set of petrochemicals that traffic fluro polymer lubricant deep within the links, while Boron nitride serves as a thickener preventing it being washed away come the first puddle. Ceramics, regardless of incarnation seem to require a two stage curing process.

Having performed the usual chain cleaning routine; drizzle it on while holding an old rag/kitchen paper beneath to catch any overspill, thus avoiding wastage and side-stepping domestic disharmony. Allow fifteen minutes (overnight when the mercury drops) for the solvent to evaporate and hope your neighbour doesn’t choose this moment to toss the dying embers of his/her roll/up/joint/ Cuban cigar over the fence-like the sticker says, its flammable with a capital F.

Performance is reassuringly impressive, from the first few pedal strokes, the drivetrain feels notably slicker and I’ve managed 170 road miles between reapplications. This obviously takes a dip when things turn torrentially soggy but nonetheless there’s no ruinously sludgy grinding paste to deal with and top-ups simply require cursory wiping of the sideplates and where appropriate jockey wheels. In common with White lightning’s epic ride, it can be used on other metal on metal surfaces, including cleat release mechanisms but steer clear of cables, or prepare for water displacer surgery.

Speaking of which, I’m always excited when I see home grown products and Lancashire based Brite ride are a small but dedicated brand seeking to improve on existing products. They’ve sent me their foaming bike wash and some maintenance spray. Bike shops are literally groaning under the weight of these and it’s a wonder sometimes we’re not swept under and avalanche every time we nip across their thresholds.

 However, these were crafted to their specification in an attempt to create something road specific. Green oil’s citrus based blend remains my all-time favourite but that aside, I’ve found the majority are justly aimed at mountain bike audiences, who are subjected to a different sort of gloop.

Road salt and other tarmac borne contaminant usually requires more intensive tickling before finally flaking away from rippling TIG welds, fork crowns and chainstays. Brite ride seem to have cracked this particular conundrum with a more intense foaming solution, accentuated by a clever stimulant trigger nozzle. 

The maintenance spray is suspiciously close to a household name- these are basically designed with a light Teflon blend that lubricates, polishes and protects, thus popular for post wash blow-overs and seasonal hibernations but the thin protective layer still attracts thin films of grime.              

Madison, finish line’s UK importers have also sent Shimano’s dual sided A530, which feature a SPD mechanism on one side and on the flip side, a beefy (93x78mm) anodised aluminium platform. Less aggressive than their M230 mountain bike siblings, the ridged and slightly concave surface loses out in terms of cornering prowess-especially making quick turns in tediously slow town centre traffic but is great for quick dab-downs and entertains street shoes should need/preference arise.

Weather sealed cup and cone bearings bode well for longevity and puts them a nose ahead of equally worthy pattern models for longer touring/ in remote regions since genuine Shimano spares are much easier to come by.Talk of simplicity-their cleats shed gloop remarkably expediently for road biased versions while exposed tension screws make adjustments a breeze using stubby 3mm multi-tool bits. 

Their arrival signalled a few early (22^nd) birthday treats for the Teenage Dream. Gone are the venerable magnesium Genetix keo patterns; replaced by the A520, entertaining recessed cleats and better agility sans bike. For  now, the Prolite Cles’ saddle sits pride of place atop the exquisitely machined layback Thompson post, though I’m tempted to transplant in favour of Spa cycles classic Aire. Ditto the bar wrap, although with a generous shampooing with Green Oil bike wash, the grey Lizard Skins DSP has rejuvenated handsomely. 

Undeniably quaint by modern standards (22 years old in August), it remains a firm favourite with me. Time for some summer evening back road scratching and at the other extreme, to cast a critical eye over few balance bikes…