Joined Up Thinking

January is usually a slow month, though no excuse for coasting. Having chased a few leads, sourced products and responded to an aspiring model’s photographic request, I headed out for some serious reflection. Speeding through the winter sunlight, alert to black ice skulking beneath a thick, steaming carpet of freshly lain equine arse fruit, I contemplated braking.

Temptation to remove the Ilpompino’s rear stopper has been tempered by memories of my worn shoe cleat disengaging while hurtling down one of Surrey’s delightful 1 in 4s…One thing lead to another culminating in a barrage of ill-timed profanity as we passed a convoy of well-heeled grand/parents herding little henry/etta’s into awaiting Lexus, BMW and elderly Mercedes…

Six years and several thousand miles hence, I’m still inclined to leave this configuration completely stock given the left lever’s a convenient resting point/means of carrying a spare cable. Then of course there’s the occasional trailer coupling, necessitating a little extra prowess than afforded by cantilever and transmission alone. However, while perfectly capable of hauling Moto Guzzi motorcycle clutches fully home, I am right hand dominant and see no reason why people with reduced dexterity shouldn’t enjoy equal standards of performance/safety.

At £35 Dia Compe’s Siamese 287(T denoting tandem) seems an obvious choice, the left substituted for a composite stoker unit, shaving unwanted weight and overcoming chatter while providing useful parking for my corresponding palm. The Flat bar faithful are similarly well served by its Tech 77 siblings; although both are non-starters with integrated Sti/Ergo systems.

Mercifully Problem Solvers offer an aesthetically pleasing, CNC machined cable doubler for a very reasonable £20, though as the ride progressed I became convinced there must be a thrifty, discrete and moreover bodge free alternative… Said Eureka moment arrived in the cry of “Clutch cable junction box!!!” while overtaking a sports moped at 29mph. Perhaps unsurprisingly its pilot took such as a challenge, though no amount of wheel sucking could save his blushes.

Taking full advantage of a lofty, eighty one inch gear, I entered the descent, nudging 108rpm and 37mph. Windblast had long since muted the unmistakable two-stroke banshee howl, replaced by thoughts of upgrading the Ilpompino’s OEM 25.4 diameter cockpit in favour of its oversized and theoretically stiffer successor.

Twelve chill but uneventful miles later man and machine were safely ensconced, one rewarded with a few shots of PTFE maintenance spray, the other diesel strength coffee while purchasing this NOS (New Old Stock) Yamaha unit on ebay for the sum of £3. Now, my next project necessitates an illustrator who’ll bring some visual pizazz to my series of children’s stories, oh and best I procure a wheel jig to tame the effects of worsening local infrastructure (!)   

Michael's Marvelous Frame Medicine

“Your mother who neglected you owes a million dollars tax and your father’s still perfecting ways of making ceiling wax”; I crooned while stirring a cauldron of highly flammable, magnolia broth. Aside from an impromptu deep clean of one’s domicile, last weeks’ somewhat comical bath tub capers prompted me to revisit my corrosion busting elixir first perfected some two decades back during the penultimate year of my degree.

Monty python-esque detonation of my improvised distillery (induced by a passer-by carelessly discarding their cigarette end) and subsequent mirth were to be avoided at all costs, so raw materials were decanted safely away from unidentifiable flying embers/similar sources of ignition. Ninety minutes hence, my 5 litre tub was sealed shut and left resting in a cool, dry, secure location.   

This latest, sprayable formula is characterised by higher solvent content, hastening circulation, coverage and therefore, protection of thin walled tubing. Doubting Thomas’s will scoff, asserting they’ve ridden their ferrous friends across the seven seas without faintest freckling but just as smoking tobacco doesn’t induce terminal cancer by default, prevention is much better, nay cheaper than cure-especially in coastal regions.

Talking of coastal, Harwich based frame builder, Justin Burls has been in touch, enticing me to come and play with his new mini velo. Until recently these have been something of a Japanese phenomenon but are slowly finding favour in densely populated cities on account of their size and subsequent manoeuvrability in slow moving, sardine-esque traffic.

Small (20 inch) wheels continue the compact, whippet-fast theme, enabling swift getaways, while theoretically ensuring said steeds store unobtrusively in the most bijous abodes. However, these are fixed, as distinct from folding framesets with otherwise classic road geometry.  

Justin has opted for Reynolds’ venerable 525, a justly popular tubeset loosely on par with 531 but capable of withstanding modern TIG welded construction methods. Conversely, it boasts a lugged n’ brazed seat tube, slightly reminiscent of Raleigh’s bonded Dynatec series. Elsewhere, we’ve a very contemporary 11/8^th head tube, full carbon fork and Sram Rival groupset keeping things competitive. Proof of the concept’s virtue lies in credible mileage, hence I’ll reserve judgement while remaining suitably intrigued until such opportunity presents.

Disc brakes, both hydraulic and mechanical have been standard issue in mountain bike circles for fifteen years, though mass produced, compatible racks have often seemed comparatively poor relations payload-wise. However, their increased prevalence within utility and expedition/touring markets is forcing manufacturers to respond ingeniously. 

Axiom continues to impress me with innovative, user friendly design and their Journey MK3, with colossal 50kilo payload is probably the easiest I’ve installed to date. Much of this stems from nicely engineered, interchangeable adjustable feet that accommodate most frame configurations, including those with sportier chainstays and/or sans eyelets, which often translates into heel clearance hassles with larger, expedition type panniers. 

Most tour ready models employ two-tier design, improving centre of gravity while calming neighbourly disputes with rack bags. Ours was the T6 6061 aluminium version dressed in tasteful satin black epoxy powder coat but there’s a Cro-moly sibling boasting identical, elephant ferrying capacity. Figures of this magnitude are based upon belt n’ braces four (as distinct from three) point mounting, so I’d be inclined toward a low slung mono-wheel trailer in this latter context, should one’s burden exceed twenty-five.

Given the right variables, fatigue will eventually claim any rack, although aluminium alloys succumb faster than steel. Therefore, minimise, or better still; avoid laying bikes down on their luggage and while warrantees are cold comfort should breakage strike, overloading, abuse or indeed modification risks voiding them…Having said this, something of a perpetual fettler, I have no qualms about adapting products once their warrantee period elapses, so long as such is safe and delivers genuine improvement.

Another endearing misconception is that of the developing world artisan- roadside sorcerers capable of seemingly effortless frame/carrier reunification.While theoretically easier to fix distressed Cro-moly, the sort of temperatures involved in automotive/agricultural contexts is ruinous to wafer thin walled 4130, inducing spontaneous collapse of brazed/silver soldered examples. Thus, sweeping statements about steel being repairable virtually anywhere teeter on urban myth.

Thorough product evaluation shouldn’t be confused with wanton vandalism; rather I (and many others) am concerned with how something performs according to design brief, intended purpose and of course, price. Occasionally products do fail but just as twenty minutes turbo trainer slavery cannot determine bib short/insert quality, taking a belt sander to the crotch in attempt to assess abrasion resistance in the event of a nasty spill is equally spurious.

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.