ShopNotes

Join Bicycle Colorado

2012-01-12T09:38:00.000-08:00

Ride responsibly and respectfully, follow the rules of the road, and support organizations that defend your rights.

Go to:

https://securecart.net/page.cfm?domain=bicyclecolo.org&pageid=632&CFID=79732116&CFTOKEN=3156524f27e0370d-3DF1A08E-5056-9212-26F11DFD040FDC6C

Amazing Story

2011-09-13T13:34:00.000-07:00

A man comes in, asks for a tube.

What size?

28 inch.

That is a rare size, are you sure?

Well, it's a road tube, 700 by 28?

OK, presta or shrader valve?

What's that?

This is a presta, this is a shrader. (showing)

Well, can I put the normal valve in?

Only if you have the bigger hole in the rim.

How do I know?

You look at it. Do you currently have a presta valve tube?

Let me make a call.

(two minutes)

Is there a price difference between regular and presta?

No.

OK, well, I'll take the what-do-you-call-it?

Presta.

Yeah.

Regular or thorn-resistant?

Huh?

Lightweight or heavy-duty, to help prevent flats.

Uh, well, the heavy one. How much is it?

Ten dollars.

(on the phone)

How much for the regular one?

Six dollars.

(on the phone)

Is it worth the extra?

Yes, but it will impact performance. The lighter tube rolls easier and handles better, but is more likely to flat.

(on the phone)

How much is it?

Ten dollars for the heavy, six for the regular.

Hold on.

(on the phone)

Can you do better on the price?

No.

Hold on.

(on the phone)

Do other bike shops have lower prices?

I don't know.

I'm going to go look in Target.

(he leaves, returns in ten minutes. Target doesn't have presta-valve tubes, I guess)

What's the price on the heavy tube?

Ten dollars.

For any size?

Ten dollars for that size.

Let me make a call.

(two minutes)

Do you have any sales going on?

No.

(on the phone)

Can I get a lower price?

No.

This box has a crushed corner. Any discount for that?

No.

OK, well I suppose I'll take it.

Here, you can have this extra box. Ten dollars eighty-eight cents.

You said ten dollars.

Sales tax. It's the law.

You said ten dollars.

Are you going to buy this tube?

(he presents a credit card, purchasing the tube)

Thank you.

Next day, a phone call:

What's your return policy?

The Big Move

2011-08-01T20:23:00.000-07:00

Temporary headquarters, one more step on the road to Global Bicycle Hegemony. In the background are seen ranks of our Children's Army who will fan out across the metro area and terrorize baby strollers and bird watchers and dog walkers and any others who may stand in our path. Mwahahahahaha!

My generals awaiting their orders.

Baptism of the new digs.

Halfway there.

Hard work has its own rewards.

Thanks to all who helped! Ed, Bill, Don, Doug, Jeannette, John and Erin, Mom, Dad, Jim and Florence, Miller and Winegarten and Co., City of Sheridan, and of course Customers. Couldn't have done it without you. -Paul

Bicycle Tour of Colorado 2011

2011-08-01T19:29:00.000-07:00

Trail Ridge Road, waiting for the gates to open.
Severe altitude sickness
Evening campsite down time. And up. And down. And up.
Roadside attractions.
The crew.

We are Open!

2011-06-09T21:46:00.000-07:00

at the new shop! 3602 River Point Parkway, in Sheridan. Up the hill from the confluence of Platte River and Bear Creek. In the bottleneck between Fatburger and Subway, across the parking lot from SuperTarget. New hours, M-W-Th-F 10-6, Tu 12-8, Sa 9-4. Give us a visit soon!

MOVING THE SHOP!

2011-03-20T21:16:00.000-07:00

Paul's Cyclery will soon be moving to a new location. (Finally!) Starting June 1 or thereabouts we will be found in the beautiful, new, sunny and spacious location at 3602-D River Point Drive. For the address-impaired, it's the building presently occupied by Subway at the intersection of Platte River Trail and Bear Creek Trail. Across the parking lot from SuperTarget. A stone's throw from the path. Look for it!

Thou Dost Promote Too Much, Methinks

2011-03-20T21:13:00.000-07:00

Just want to say, we're not offering bribes of store credit for posting a favorable online review.

We promise to build or repair your bike as well as possible, and to honor all reasonable requests fairly and cheerfully. Our primary means of promotion has always been and will continue to be referrals from satisfied customers. If you are pleased with our products and service, we believe that you will come back and tell all your friends, and if for some reason you are displeased with our service we hope you will tell us in person and give us a chance to amend the fault. That's all.

Campagnolo Delta Brake

2010-10-29T11:03:00.000-07:00

The Fatal Flaw

2010-10-19T11:05:00.000-07:00

Weinmann concave rims, made in Belgium. Great rims in my view. Extremely strong with a tall, flat braking surface. A little heavy perhaps, but having a rock-solid, impervious ride quality, as rims go. And this is a smart shape for spoke nipple support and probably torsional rigidity as well. Tourists' choice. Sometimes found with a shiny silver finish.

Centrifugal force holds ice, snow, and mud, making your wheels heavier. And dirty MagChloride-y water soaks in, seizing your spoke nipples. And destroying the adhesive on your rim tape. While the rest melts off onto your floor.

Little Things

2010-10-06T20:23:00.000-07:00

Some years ago near here on the trail I rode around a rock, and I thought, "I should get that off the trail, it could cause an accident."

And then my little devil says, "nah, I don't have time for that."

And then goodie two-shoes says, "I should go back, and move that rock off the trail."

Then the little devil, "I'm late already."

"Someone could get hurt."

"It's not my problem."

"You know you should."

"Let someone else do it."

"Your ARE someone else."

"Heck with it."

"Selfish clown."

"Bleeding heart."

"Loser."

And pretty soon, I'm hundreds of yards down the trail, and I've forgotten what I was arguing with myself about, and it just doesn't seem important any more.

The next day, maybe two days later, I heard that someone had hit a rock on the trail nearby and broken their whatever, ended up in the hospital, etc.

And it was, I felt, my fault. Even though it may have been a different trail, a different rock, not that day. My fault. How many accidents have I escaped because someone picked up a rock? Or because someone changed a light bulb, or put their shopping cart in the corral, or stopped at a yellow light? Put in a new roll of toilet paper? Does the ten seconds it costs to anonymously correct a problem, saving someone potentially years of trouble, really cost that much in the end?

I stop and move rocks now. Big ones, anyway.

Oh, So Close

2010-10-05T07:43:00.001-07:00

The man was sitting right in the middle of the sidewalk, his gear strewn all about him. I thought at first it was a "yardsale" but for the bicycle with its wheels in the air. With the Brooks saddle and Campagnolo Ergo shifters scraping around on the pavement. And the guy is not wearing shoes to match the pedals, and there is no helmet, and he's wearing jeans and a leather jacket on his 80-degree morning bike ride. I couldn't get by without leaving the pavement, and the whole scene looked a little suspicious, so I stopped.

Are you OK? Having some bike trouble? (nice bike)

ARRRrnnnghh. Mnaaaah. Piece o' shix.

Where did you get this bike? (or steal it)

Hrrmmn. Eh, brother, brother in, uh, Urbana Champaign. You know where that is?

Yes, it's a college town in Illinois. (liar)

Urbana Champaign, my brother...uh, he got it for me. There, over in Urbana Champaign. My brother.

What's the matter with the bike? (maybe I can get this bike from him and find its owner)

Aaah, Mnnnrrg. Crap.

I'll give you fifty dollars for that bike right now. (come on, you loser, I know your game)

He looks up at me like I just told him he won the lottery. And I can see the gears turning in his mind: Fifty bucks! Fifty bucks! All at once! I can't believe it.

Aaaah, OH, aaah, uuuh, no, I need this bike.

OK, I'll give you all the cash in my wallet for this bike. He looks like he might pass out with surprise. I pull out my wallet (Uh-oh, how much money DO I have?) and remove all the cash. I make a big show of this, with a dramatic sweep of my arm and a long ZZZZIP as I open my bike bag, and opening my wallet ALL the way and grabbing what I hope looks like a huge wad. And then airing it out in his face. Green Paper. He can smell it, I'm thinking. And I count out sixty-seven dollars. I hold it out to him, sixty-seven dollars in cash, it's the most he's seen all at once in who knows how long. This is his lucky day!

You will sell me this bike Right Now for sixty-seven dollars. (hurry up)

OK.

I hand him the money, grab the bike and get out of there. Ghost-ride it two blocks to my shop, then I call the police. Give them all the info they ask for, and they send an officer over for the report. He calls-in the serial number, and it's not reported stolen. (maybe I can keep it?)

Officer, how will I find the owner of this bicycle? (maybe I can keep it?)

I don't know, you bought yourself a bicycle, it's yours now. Good luck.

I can keep the bike?

The cop has bigger fish to fry, and he doesn't seem to have any idea what this bike is anyway, so I thank him and he leaves. Then I searched the internet for two days looking for some sort of post or list or registry or description or SOMETHING of this (presumably) stolen bicycle. No luck. (maybe I can keep it!)

Someone suggested that I call the manufacturer, to see if they can trace the serial number. I thought that was a good idea, so I started by calling the most local dealer, who keeps a list of customers and serial numbers. I gave them only the briefest descripton, preferring to wait for the rightful owner to fill in the details. Ten minutes later they called back with a close match, but not close enough. I turned them down and said to keep looking. (maybe I can keep the bike!)

A couple hours later they called back with another match, "The serial number is XXXXX." (aw, shoot)

We have a winner!

Riding home that night I paused at the spot where the bum was camped out, and I noticed some garbage on the grass. It was the cardboard hang-tag for a pack of sandpaper. The thief had purchased sandpaper at Walgreens and was busy defacing the bike when I got to him.

Sixty-seven dollars.

Untitled

2010-07-08T10:18:00.000-07:00

I found this first two pieces furthest from the front door, right next to each other about as close as this. I think it's the point of impact. It flew all the way through the showroom, over two display islands and six or eight parked bicycles.

There are two other kinds of glass shards, comprising most of the shrapnel field, as such. Ten thousand pieces like these were scattered all over the floor, and piled up at the base of the doorframe:

All caused by someone's rock:

Which luckily was sent through the door glass, not a large window pane.
Which luckily didn't smash the Gunnar.
Or a carbon bike.
Or knock over my Norfolk Pine.
The thief didn't have any problem finding some money.
Which is what he wanted.
Didn't break anything other than the glass.
Didn't tear the place up looking for valuables.
Didn't take a bike.
Or my computer.
Or tools.
Or anything of value, really.
Just the money.
(ha, ha)
Thank you thief, I hope you enjoyed your $196.
You're worth it.

Another Busted One

2010-06-24T13:52:00.000-07:00

Beware old handlebars.

And Worth It, Too

2010-06-16T23:22:00.000-07:00

A young man leaned his bicycle against the glass, came in and asked if he could borrow some wrenches to put on a new seat he had got somewhere else.

I'm in the shop with two customers, plus him.

I don't loan tools.

Well, could you put it on for me?

$5 installation.

Well, do you have any tools?

The other customers are smirking at each other now.

Sure, I have this allen wrench set for $8.99. You can use it to install your saddle and do a lot of other services to your bicycle.

He takes the (new, packaged, priced) tool and starts working on his seatpost, right there in front of us.

I've felt some sort of tension in this transaction, but I've turned dutifully to the register and rung up a sale, Nine dollars and sixty-four cents, please.

I just wanted to use this tool. I don't have any money.

Our eyes meet. The idiot is lying. And I have his number.

I told you, I don't loan tools, and I sure as HECK won't loan a brand-new tool to you just so you can avoid buying either it or my efforts to do what you can't! What do you think is going on here? Do I look like a CHARITY? Does the sign say PAUL'S FREE CO-OP? How about a complimentary LARABAR and ESPRESSO with your service today?!

RRRRGGGH!

And now he's not only caught, but tried, sentenced and hung.

He can't get his head quite low enough as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a twenty, then takes his change and receipt and shambles out.

(note: this twenty-dollar-bill was wadded up in his pocket, like he'd grabbed it on the way out of the house this morning like every morning, perhaps. He didn't have to rifle all his pockets and backpack, he knew that he had it and he knew where it was. Maybe mom won't miss it! Of course if he really was broke, like he said, he wouldn't have that twenty at all, or he would have it carefully folded and squirrelled away out of reach.)

Bastard left the old seat on my sidewalk.

The Carnage Continues

2010-06-01T18:10:00.001-07:00

Strong rider + light handlebars = fatigue

Roof rack v. garage door act I.

Roof rack v. garage door act II.

Words To The Wise

2010-03-08T09:28:00.001-08:00

EVERY CAR AND TRUCK IS A POTENTIAL THREAT.

Whether on the street, in a parking lot, standing still or moving. They don't see you. Some don't care. At least half of all drivers are BELOW AVERAGE. Anticipate their moves. Even if you don't see a turn signal, assume that they will cut you off. Even if they have a red light, assume they will continue through. Use a rear-view mirror. Scan constantly. Ride predictably and use your hand signals, including the "STOP" gesture when appropriate.

This cyclist is on a new bicycle now, and she'll be all right. She was hit by a truck running a red light, which was t-boned by a car timing the green light. She went over the top and had serious, but non-life-threatening, injuries. The bicycle, as you can see, went under the truck, was run over and dragged. The only part we were able to salvage was the rear reflector. The frame, both wheels, crankset, pedals, seatpost, saddle, stem, handlebar, derailleurs are all destroyed.

Worn Crankarm

2010-02-17T13:46:00.000-08:00

The Fastlane

2010-02-17T11:37:00.000-08:00

Here is a bicycle I have been riding a lot lately, a Gunnar Fastlane. The frameset was handmade at the Waterford factory, in Wisconsin. "Handmade in the U.S.A.," how many things can you say that about? It's tig-welded steel, with kinda slackish angles (72.5/72.5), a low bottom bracket, and room for big tires and fenders. The kind of bike most people should be riding. I might not call it a randonneur bike, but it is definitely in that class-stable, versatile, comfortable and responsive. Dependable. All-weather, all-season, day or night, with some cargo-carrying ability for commuting or light touring.

When I first built it I mounted 23c tires, which were light and fast and fun, but it lowered the bike enough that the steering trail was too short-the handling was not neutral-it wouldn't hold a good line in corners and was just too much work, I thought, to ride. I tried 32c's, which helped, but now I have 37's mounted, which seems about right for the 10-20mph that I normally travel around town. The manufacturer's spec says that the trail is 45mm-I don't know what size tire that is with, but whatever amount the larger tires added to that means that now I can ride no-handed figure-8's in the parking lot. And the frame is quite straight as well-on the road when I let go and sit up it just goes right ahead without having to lean to one side.

You will notice that I have mounted Campagnolo ergo levers with disc brakes. The Avids are well-made and very strong, and modulation is nice with the Campy levers. The feel reminds me of the old Campy Delta calipers, with the better pads. These Avids are good brakes alright, but I have one complaint: a squawk from the rear brake right at the most useful point in the power curve. I can squeeze a little more gently, and it won't make a sound, or squeeze a little harder and go past the squawk into the grind, but in any case I don't feel like I have complete control over brake balance front-to-rear. It's annoying. Not intolerable, and not what I would call a Fatal Flaw, but annoying. I've cleaned the rotors and resurfaced the pads but it still is there-I'll break down and replace the pads sometime soon.

The sharp-eyed gear wonk will say that there are no Campy-compatible hubs for disc brakes. Which is true. And which is why I am using a Sram cassette on a Shimano-compatible hub with Campy shifters. I would not recommend this to a customer. It's way too adjustment-sensitive, but I've been able to dial-in things well enough for personal use. Shifting is good where I expect it to be, but at my commuting speeds I was always in a crossover gear, which is noisy and increases wear on the drivetrain and with the present shifter/cassette combination I had too much cable tension in my lowest gears. So I changed the little chainring from 34t to 38t-now my most useful gear range is out of crossover territory. That's what I never liked about the compact double, 34-50, chainrings...for me, anyway, averaging 16mph I'm in either a small/smallish or large/largish chainring/cog combination. And when I want just a little higher or just a little lower gear, the single shift on the rear puts me into even worse, noisier, combinations with the chainrings. So I would end up making three shifts with the rear derailleur and one with the front, just to get a slightly different gear, which ends up to be four times more shifting than I care to do. What a pain in the neck. The 38t chainring solved that-it makes the crossovers less useful, and being just 12t lower than the big ring, whether I want a slightly different gear or a completely different gear, either is accomplished by a single shift. I think that I might eventually go with a 48t outer ring, but it's OK for now.

Fenders are great in the Winter and useful year-round, and I think that everyone should have a bike with fenders. Not saying that every bike should have fenders, of course, but if a cyclist can own at least one bike with fenders they'll be riding a lot more. These are made by SKS.

The pack is actually for handlebars, but I have shimmed and mounted a threadless adjustable stem to the seatpost, with a short stub of a handlebar for the pack to clamp onto. Don't worry about the Record Carbon seatpost-it's already pretty scratched and gouged, repaired and strengthened internally with two-part epoxy and part of an old aluminum handlebar. I don't mind lowrider panniers when carrying a large load, but I absolutely dislike carrying stuff over my front wheel-it badly disrupts the handling and parking of the bicycle, is scary terrible in a crosswind, and on rough terrain I want to look down and see exactly where my front tire is rolling. I don't get how the randonneurs can stand riding with their stuff under the handlebars-to make it work out right you have to have just the right steering geometry, and just the right pack, mounted low and back with just the right decaleur and stem and front wheel and rack support and fenders that don't rattle against it, with the right hardware that won't all come apart and jam in your front wheel and kill you and even if you do get it all right if it's not cotton and leather and brass and French you still can't be a member of the club. Ridiculous. Put your stuff behind the saddle, either like this or in a saddle bag or on a standard aluminum rack. Handlebars are for holding onto, not carrying luggage.

I'm pretty proud of my rear light mounting. I fabricated a small flat steel bracket that holds the light and also fastens onto one of the fender struts, all simple and light. The headlight is a different story, though. While I think this is a good light, it's ugly; too many wires and black plastic. It comes off easily, which is a benefit, but I'll continue to look for something more elegant, perhaps mounted to the fork crown or front of the fender.

STAR CSP

2010-02-03T10:51:00.000-08:00

Bicyclists are rightful users of public roadways, and are subject to the rules of the road just as they would be while operating any other vehicle.

If, in the responsible operation of your bicycle, you are harrassed or threatened or endangered by a driver, you can easily report the incident by dialing Star C.S.P.

Get the license plate number. Absolutely required.

Star CSP will give you the Colorado State Patrol Aggressive Driver Hotline. Give them the license plate number and details of the incident.

http://bicyclecolo.org/page.cfm?pageId=731

Busted Nut

2010-01-28T15:32:00.001-08:00

ha ha.

Iver Johnson BB

2010-01-15T15:01:00.000-08:00

Iver Johnson bottom bracket, made in U.S.A. probably in the late 1920's. Solid steel with nickel (I think) plating. Iver Johnson's Arms and Cycles Fitchburg Mass U.S.A. also manufactured, as the name implies, guns. Which were also solid steel with (I think) nickel plating. Evidently they were adept at making steel tubes.
Iver Johnson famously sponsored the great American bicycle champion Major Taylor, whose is a remarkable story.

The fixing nut is left-hand threaded as is the cone locknut, which also serves as the extractor. Of the hundreds of tools, mostly metric, which litter my desk and walls and drawers and floor, not one would fit that loxtracter nut. I had to fabricate a one-inch flat spanner, which I might have to wait another thirty years to use.

Disclaimer

2010-01-12T18:51:00.001-08:00

In case you haven't figured it out by now, half of what you read here is true, half is made-up and half is unsubstantiable hearsay. Naturally, there is some overlap.

The Strange Life

2010-01-05T08:12:00.000-08:00

There's an old saying, "The Lord protects the weak and the poor." And perhaps the stupid, too. But Lord or no, there is certainly some inexplicable force in the universe that comes into play at the most opportune times (or inopportune, depending on your perspective) to create the most astounding results. Coincidence is perhaps the strongest force in Nature.

Something motivated me to put a rubber band around my wallet for the ride home. I had NEVER before put a rubber band around my wallet, for any reason. When I arrived home, I discovered my wallet missing. I turned around, rode the whole way back to the shop along the same path but at twice the speed, eyes peeled and hyper-attentive, pulse 190, then turned around again and rode back home, again on the same path as before. No luck. Dejected, I put my bike away while plotting a strategy: call Visa and MC, call DMV, call police, call bank, etc. And when I walked into the house, my wife said, "Is this your wallet? Some guy just stopped by and said he had found it in the street." Not a dollar was missing. And there was the rubber band, which had prevented the wallet from exploding on impact.

When I was in college, the only snow day in four years was the Monday after I had pulled a 48-hour term paper session and still didn't have the damn thing finished. With my semester grade hanging in the balance, I went to bed at 3:00am for four hours of sleep, prepared to hand in a final draft with the endnotes still an incomprehensible mess. Woke up ten minutes after the class would have started to an ice storm and school cancelled. Can you possibly imagine my relief? Do you think I didn't cry?

More than a few times in my business I have incurred an expense which left me wondering, "How am I going to pay for this?" And then mere hours later I make the grand sale which covers it.

Many times at the end of the business day I have stopped myself from rushing out the door, thinking, "Stop, Wait, You have forgotten something." And just then the air conditioner kicks on.

Each summer for six years I have rebuilt two Campagnolo shifters. The second shifter comes in within a day or two of the first one. Why does it happen this way? Is there some sort of Moon phase, coincidental with a weekend event, preceded by a rain, on an odd date, with the wind from the south, on the day that I ride my Cuevas? With a rubber band around my wallet? What is going on here? The first time, it was like, "oh, great, another busted shifter." Year two I thought, "hmm, just like last summer." Year three was, "that's strange." Year four was, "well, I'll be damned! Just like before!" Now it doesn't surprise me at all. In fact, last summer I predicted it: said to Ed, "look here, our first Campy shifter overhaul. That means another is soon to arrive." Which in fact it did. I actually have a repaired shifter on my bench at this very moment, and I don't doubt that on the day the customer picks it up another one will arrive to take its place.

When I ride Cherry Creek I generally put my keys in one pocket, my wallet in another. But for some reason on this one ride out of hundreds I left my wallet in the car and put my keys in the seat bag WITH A SNAP-RING ON THE ZIPPER to hold it shut. I swear on the C.O.N.I. manual that I had never before in my life put a snap-ring on the zipper of my bike bag. But something made me do it...
There had been a lot of rain in the previous week, and the river was running four, five feet higher than usual, which of course also means that it was fifty feet wider as well. A lot of water running down the creekbed at a pretty high rate, in any case.
My counselor and his padawan were there, and we were on a section that has disappeared gradually over the years, caving-in due to erosion. Normally it doesn't present a problem, we just ride a little higher up the bank, but at this particular spot on this particular night in this particular weather, the trail was held in place by grass and shrubbery and was eroded underneath, all hidden by said shrubbery. It didn't, uh, look all that dangerous...
While passing through, I ducked under a branch, made a little hoopdy on a rock or something, went off balance, felt my rear wheel give a little, botched the recovery, clipped-out with my downhill-side foot to catch myself, and stepped right into...nothing.
Uh-oh.
SPUH-LASH!
Headfirst, upside-down, off my bike, underwater.
UNDERWATER!
SHITSHITSHIT!
WHERE'S MY BIKE?
WHERE'S MY KEYS?
MY WALLET?
WHICH WAY IS UP?
Flailing, kicking, paddling, searching for a handle. A root, some mud, grass, anything. A hundred thoughts simultaneously blazing through my mind in the seconds before I found my footing. I had executed a 180 with a half-gainer on the way in, and at least another 180 with a roll before I found the bottom and stood up with a snort, opened my eyes, and where am I? Facing...downriver! In water almost up to my armpits, and there goes my bike!
AAAH!
Cross bikes, by the way, float upside down with their tires just breaking the surface.
I waded the ten yards downriver, grabbed my bike, dragged it back and then handed it six feet up to my buddies, who then pulled me up. They were speechless. Awed. Dumbstruck. They had missed the show.
And I, laughing my you-know-what off, adrenaline-shot, out of my mind with excitement and glory and victory, gave my bike a shake, straightened my glasses, remounted, and shot off like nothing had happened.
"WAIT!" they shouted.
"HURRY UP!" I replied.
And thanks to that little snap-ring there was no further trouble.

Clothing List by Temperature

2009-12-08T13:26:00.001-08:00

Always: helmet, sunglasses
Items not worn should be taken

105F
white kerchief on head and neck, soaked with water
white jersey, long sleeve
ventilated gloves if desired
shorts
socks and most ventilated shoes

85-100F
SS jersey
ventilated gloves if desired
shorts
socks and shoes

70-85F
SS jersey
jacket if cloudy or altitude
gloves if desired
shorts
socks and shoes

55-70F
gloves
ear band
LS jersey
convertible jacket
shorts
leg warmers
wool socks and shoes

40-55F
insulated long-finger gloves
ear band
SS jersey
LS jersey
jacket
shorts
pants
wool socks and winter shoes

25-40F
winter gloves
ear band
LS jersey x2
jacket
shorts
pants
wool socks and winter boots

10-25F
glove liners
winter gloves
wool hat or balaclava
face protector
undershirt
LS jersey x2
jacket
winter tights
wool socks and winter boots

-10-10F
glove liners
winter gloves
overmits
wool hat or balaclava
face protector
SS jersey
LS jersey x2
jacket
winter tights
pants
wool socks, plastic bags and winter boots

-15
add ski goggles
Mukluks and insulated pants
Jagermeister

-30
are you out of your mind?

Ode

2009-10-28T20:04:00.001-07:00

I complain some, I guess, but there's not another job I'd rather have. The finest people frequent my bicycle shop, brothers and sisters all, a list by no means complete:

C, who brings me cookies every Christmas.
D., who knows that cycling is beautiful.
D., who helps the unfortunate.
C., who lives to ride.
H., who rides to live.
B., who is sharper than you think.
S., who is always right.
P., who keeps me in home-made jam.
D., who has turned sadness into hope.
H., who pushes through adversity.
P., who has never seen a storm he didn't like.
T., who understands.
P., who rides anyway.
E., who can't stop.
T., who always keeps me late.
X, who buys anyway.
S., who always has a good story and a laugh.
F., who crashes too much but keeps on riding.
X., who won't stop despite the surgery.
D., who respectfully disagrees.
X., who teases me.
R., who is too old to ride but to hell with it.
J., who is patient, demanding, and appreciative.
X., who prays for me.
Y., who also prays for me.
T., whose enthusiasm is boundless.
E., who got right back up again.
G., the old coot.
R., the champion
B., who likes my car.
D., who wants my bike.
S., who loves French bicycles.
S., who has more bicycles than he can count.

And some only in memory:

H., killed by an enraged driver.
X., killed by a drunk driver.
J., killed by a texting driver.
J., heart failure while riding.
T., killed in a collision with another cyclist.
X., aneurism while riding.
M., surrendered to chronic depression.

The athlete must love his bicycle. -C.O.N.I.
Love one another. -J.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light. -D.T.

Another Crazy

2009-10-28T09:58:00.000-07:00

Hello, how can I help you out?

Hi. I think I want to buy a bicycle to ride around...I want to test-ride that bicycle (road bike) and ooh, look at that one, I want to test-ride that one (too big), and that one (fixed-gear), and that one too (comfort bike). And I like that color (white), I want to test-ride that one (town bike, too small).

What do you think you'll want to use the bicycle for?

-blank stare-

Do you have a bicycle now?

No. Why do you think I'm here?

Well, there are different bicycles for different uses, for example, a road bike like this is for long or fast rides primarily on pavement, mountain bikes are for off-road use, and comfort bikes like this one for short rides around town and are also a good choice for people new to cycling. And they all come in different sizes; I fit all my customers to the proper size for comfort and performance. I'd like to start by showing you a bicycle that is the right size, and most importantly of the type that might meet your needs.

Well, I just want to test-ride a bunch of bicycles, to see if I like them.

OK, what bicycle would you like to try?

All of them.

-silence.-

Uh, well, where will you be riding your bicycle?

-blank stare- (aroundyoustupidmanhaventyoubeenlistening?)

Do you think you'll want to just ride around the block, or to the market, or perhaps commute? Triathlons? Will you be riding with other people? Ideally, you should have similar bicycles for riding together. Would you like to test-ride around the parking lot or go on a longer ride on the Platte River Trail?

I just want to see if I like riding a bicycle. (imheretowasteasmuchofyourtimeaspossible)

Here, how about if we start you out on one of these, it's a pretty versatile machine, good quality and easy to use...let me get one ready in your size.

I don't like that one.

What don't you like about it?

What's your problem? I just want to test ride a bunch of bikes.

(what's going on here?)

I'd rather not waste your time with test rides on bikes that aren't the right size or type-if you could give me a little guidance, I'll try to move you toward a bicycle that you can like.

-incredulous stare-

-pregnant pause- (I'm looking at her, waiting for some sort of coherent information. Something? Anything? What now? Hello?)

All I want to do is test-ride a bunch of bikes, and I don't know what your problem is but I don't think that this is going anywhere and I just don't know why I can't just ride some bikes I haven't ever been treated like this ever I just can't believe you won't let me ride some bikes I just wanted to test-ride some bikes I'm never coming here again I have to go now I don't think I can buy a bike here I (sob)....

I think she's crying. What the?

And then she turns away and leaves.

And I'm dumbfounded. There's a factory rep (who will remain nameless) who has witnessed the whole thing, and he asks, "What was THAT?"

I don't know. I don't think she's herself today.

And a minute later, she runs down my sidewalk, pushes open the door and yells, "You're an AsshxLE, FxxK you, I hope you DIE you ASSHxLE!, etc. etc." And then she's gone again.

This has been a couple of years back. I seem to get one of these people every season, or maybe two in three years, for the whole time I've been working in a bicycle shop. Seen it happen to other salespeople, too. Boy, I could tell you some stories...I don't know just what to do about it, maybe nothing can be done. Study sales technique? Take a counseling class? Talk less? Listen more? Is it possible to be more understanding with incomprehensible people? I don't think I'm a scary or rude person, or insensitive necessarily, or a bad salesman, and I definitely don't call people names or swear at them. I'm just trying to help...where do these poor people come from? Do I need them as customers? Can I help them at all? Is it worth the effort?

The rep and I look at each other, and neither of us knows what to say. What can you say? Maybe I should have let her test ride a bunch of bikes.

Suicide Bike

2009-10-15T14:19:00.001-07:00

A machine recently posted on Craigslist:

vintage raliegh 54cm frame and fork 52:15 gear ratio fixed with wienmann dp18 deep v 700 wheels, no brakes the hub is threaded on both sides for freewheel

No brakes. No toe straps. Gear too big to control. Cog that spins off when I stop pedaling. Gotta get me one.

Smooth rolling

2009-10-10T15:55:00.000-07:00

Two more surprising traffic occurrences today: driver A, we shall call him, yielded to my right of way and waved as I went by, and Driver B didn't cut me off.

Hmm...

Waiting at a stoplight, sitting perfectly comfortable on my top tube, fat and cable-less so it doesn't pinch my loin, no saddle poke, no silly wobble. Looking down my line, ready to take my lane. At ease, but ready. Look out the corner of my eye at the traffic light. Green? Yellow? Flashing ped? Don't turn your head, they'll think you are signaling. Hello? Should I use my "go straight" signal now? Anybody in there? The attentive ones judge me. Staring. Geek. Nice paint. Will he go straight? Fast? Can I beat him through the intersection if I stick my foot in it? Will he kick my car? Duh?

My shifters are finally working right, which, they being a fickle mix of Campyshram Noplastic, is a kind of predicted surprise, a light snow is on everything above road level, dry and clear, with no wind or heat or cold or rain or dark, all in perfect mid-season grey neutrality. Still. Quiet. Nature could care less, and lets me slide right on bye. Finally.

For now.

Bicycle Tour of Colorado

2009-07-21T09:44:00.001-07:00

My bike: a. creaks, b. clicks, c. squeaks, d. rattles, e. grinds, f. makes noises, g. doesn't climb well, h. my cleats are dirty, i. doesn't descend well, j. is new just last week and now my derailleurs and brakes don't work and the wheels are out of true and the saddle hurts and my hands go numb and I just don't feel so good do you have any aspirin can I borrow some WD-40 why does it always rain here at 1:00 they never said anything about that in the brochure!!!

Aid station on McClure Pass. Good luck with that cel phone.

McClure Pass.

Aid station on Independence Pass. Paul's Mobile Cyclery nearest, with Rich wearing three jackets, the 500-gallon water truck next, then the food court and d.j. Twenty toilets on the right, out of view. A guy on a recumbent trike showed up here mid-afternoon after cartwheeling down Cottonwood Pass the previous day. He was wearing at least three large bandages, one sandal, and his hospital gown, and his big chainring was ruined. I think he was on painkillers of some sort.

Bike to Work Day 2009

2009-06-29T22:02:00.000-07:00

The Table. Thanks Peach and Ed, couldn't have done it without you. And also thanks to Starbucks and Entenmann's for the goodies.

The Handoff. Thanks Pat!

Great Things Gone Away

2009-05-10T21:16:00.000-07:00

Thing was so big that I'd have wrecked had I run over it. Right there in the middle of the trail, the size of a golden Costco ham. A humongous frog. A bullfrog, I think one would say. A damned huge Arapahoe County Grand Champion Jumping Frog bullfrog. I didn't know they grew them that big around here. Amazing, green, wet animal, holding his ground. Top of his food chain. Frowning. Drooling, maybe. Waiting for a squirrel to get just a little too close.
I stopped to observe, and to wonder. Where is he going? What's he doing here? Should I move him? What if someone came around and ran over him? Why here? Why now? What does this mean? Who am I?
I stood there transfixed, and at the moment I thought to reach down and touch him he was suddenly flying through the air, all legs and arms flailing in a fifteen-foot Superman leap down onto the rocks, with a quick recovery and then another stupendous jump into the river. And then he was gone. And I, inexplicably, thought to myself that no-one would ever see him again.
Next time I was there, that path was gone. The great old timbered walk hanging out over the rocks, with the splintery rail and the fifteen-foot drop into the rapids, ripped out and hauled off, the trail moved up-grade away from the river and paved with nice smooth safe boring blacktop. With a painted centerline. Improved, as they say. And as I rode past and looked through the fence to where there was no longer a trail, I remembered that frog, and I understood.

F**king cyclists

2009-04-26T08:51:00.000-07:00

Driving my car, I pulled up to a stoplight the other day. Two vehicles in front of me, another behind, at least two on the other side of the intersection, all of us waiting for the red light. A cyclist pulls up to the front on the other side of the intersection, slows down just long enough to look both ways, then crosses under the red light. Right in front of at least five drivers.
As he is passing me, I say out the window, "Sir, that's a red light and you have to stop and wait for it."
He couldn't believe that someone would chastise him for exercising his right to do whatever the hell he wants, so he pulls around my back, circles the car and comes up to my window, just out of my reach. He says, "Is it any of your business how I ride my bike?"
I say, "Yes, it IS my business how you ride your bike. I own a bicycle shop, I contribute to bicycle advocacy organizations who lobby for YOUR RIGHTS, and I ride around this city all the time. And I'm telling you with great certainty that YOU MUST STOP AND WAIT FOR THAT RED LIGHT."
He just stood there, dumbfounded. Surprised, that it really IS my business how he rides his bike.
Now the light is green, and he's stuck there in the wrong lane and people are honking. So I turn away from him and drive off.
Amateur. Selfish clown. Does he have any idea how much damage he does with a stupid stunt like that? Does he realize that he makes us all look bad? What does he think all those drivers are thinking when he blows off the red light?

I'm riding to work one morning, and I pull up to a red light westbound at Chenango and Broadway. It's one of those intersections that aren't timed-if you're a pedestrian you punch the button and if you're in a car the sensor in the concrete picks it up and you're in the system. If you're on a bicycle you are screwed-the light doesn't even know you're there-you either have to go over and hit the button (leave your bike parked in the street, because you can't have a vehicle on the sidewalk) or you wait for a car to pull up and trigger the light, or you wait forever. Or you blow off the light. Tough choice.
On this particular morning, a car was opposite me waiting for the light, so I knew that it would turn green soon. I'm in my lane, there's no doubt which direction I'm going, and there's another car pulling into line behind me. We're all waiting patiently for the light, when another cyclist pulls up beside me. On a fixed-gear, with cards in the spokes, stupid-narrow handlebar, dirty little bikey cap, faux-broken-in messenger bag, cutoff plaid pants, tattoos, piercings, chains, the whole poser deal. He touches down, he's looking both ways and inching forward like he's going to just go on through, so I say, "How are you doing this morning?"
This puts him off his guard and, surprised, he looks over at me with a "you talking to me?" look.
"Where you headed?" I ask.
"Downtown" was his curt reply. And he's inching forward again, looking both ways.
"How long you been riding a fixxie?" I ask. He gives me another one of those "why the f**k are you wasting my time?" looks.
I smile.
"Seven months," he says. A real pro. And he starts inching forward again, in a terrific hurry to get to the coffee shop I guess.
I know what's going on here, and so does he, so I'm ready now to stop messing around. "You need to wait for that red light," I say, "we don't want to make a bad show for these drivers."
Which he did.
The End.

Ride More

2008-09-05T00:07:00.000-07:00

WHAT ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR?
GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF YOUR POCKETS.
DID YOU RIDE HERE?
HELLOOO?
WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?
GET BACK TO WORK.
WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?
KEEP AT IT.
STOP WHINING.
FOCUS.
PUSH.
PEDAL.

O The Horror

2008-09-01T11:56:00.000-07:00

I acquired a cool old German trombone a few weeks ago, actually a VERY old (100 years?) trombone that had evidently been sitting in someone's attic or barn for a few decades. I'd been looking for a good example of an instrument like this, at a reasonable price, and finally found one. Big bell, wide bore, no modern features like tuning slide or spit valve or leadpipe, just a long sliding tube with solid nickel ferrules and some snakey decoration. They are reputed to have a unique sound, appropriate for Wagner, Brahms, Mahler, and other romantic-era orchestral works. If not to actually perform on, an instrument like this at least gives a valuable insight into a certain repertoire.

It arrived in a giant box full of packing peanuts, completely assembled in the state it was recovered. I couldn't help myself, as soon as I had it removed from the packing I wiped off the mouthpiece and blew a note. Kinda stuffy. Try a different note. Still awfully stuffy. I pushed out the slide (awful), blew through it, checked both inner tubes, looked fine. Then I looked into the bell. Something was stuck in it, looked like a rag or some leaves. I ran a brake cable backwards through the bell section and this popped out:

ARRGGH! PTOOEY! BLECH! PFFT! PFFT! Wiping my mouth on my shirt, spitting, horking, ack where's my toothbrush?! YUCK! PTOOEY!

There are actually two mice in that blob. Count the legs and tails. Evidently the horn was stored bell-up, and some hungry little guy went snooping around where he shouldn't be, fell in, and couldn't get out. So his friend comes over to see what happened, and he falls in too. And here they are, decades later, dead, rotten, and mummified, exhumed from their brassy tomb. What a way to go.

Shimmy Shake Rattle and Roll

2008-07-12T18:51:00.001-07:00

There has been a lot of talk lately about front wheel shimmy. Again. Online discussions, Calfee's owners' forum and his own theories regarding fork alignment, a recent accident among my clientele, shop discussions, personal experiences and hearsay. A woman died recently after losing control at high speed-witnesses said that her front wheel was shaking violently. Everybody's weighing in, regarding forks, headsets, wheels, tires, air pressure, frames, hand position, wind, etc. It's the same discussion we had last year, and the year before that. One summer it seems we've settled on HEADSETS as the culprit. Next year, TIRES. This year, it seems we're going toward FRAMES or FORKS.

But it's serious business, as any one who has experienced it will attest. What causes it? What enables it?

I submit that front wheel shimmy can be best explained (and perhaps solved) by acoustics. At a particular speed, your front wheel is rotating at a certain RPM. That number is a Frequency, which corresponds to a particular pitch, or musical note. When that frequency matches the resonant frequency of a component (fork, frame, handlebars), that component will resonate sympathetically. If the component is not damped (by your arms, for example), the resonance will propagate.

A fork on a bicycle is like a tuning fork. It has a fundamental frequency and a series of overtones that are related mathematically to the length of its legs. If you have a fork separated from its frame, hold it by the steerer and give the fork ends a strum with your hand, then hold the end up to your ear. Hear that low pitch? Feel it in your hand? That's the fundamental. Now, (carefully) whack the fork on the edge of your workbench. Hear the higher pitches, the klang? Those are the overtones, which might be out of tune with each other (which is why it's a klang and not a beautiful note-it's a bicycle fork, not a musical instrument). The fundamental pitch is easiest to initiate, and WHEN, not IF, the frequency of your front wheel revolutions matches the frequency of that fundamental, your bike is going to start shaking. The pitch will resonate, and will grow (propagate) if not damped somehow. It might be slight or unnoticeable, it might be dramatic, but it will happen. If you have a stiff fork, the frequency will be higher and your shimmy will occur at a higher speed. If you have a flexible fork, or a longer fork (ie: cyclocross), the fundamental frequency will be lower and your shimmy will occur at a lower speed. If you go slower or faster, the shimmy will disappear, or the wheel RPM will induce an overtone frequency and will be felt as vibration, or perhaps a rattle of some sort.

Your wheels are not perfectly balanced. Lift up the front of your bike by the handlebars, and you will notice that the front wheel will turn and settle to a particular spot. The heaviest point of the rim/tire/tube combination settles to the bottom, and will be located at the rim joint (most commonly), or possibly the valve, or where the heaviest part of your tube is, or where your tire liner overlaps itself, or where your sealant has pooled. Remove the wheel from the bike, hold it in front of you by the skewer, and give it a spin with your fingers. Even if you have an ultra-light, high-zoot wheel, it will want to move up and down in space. It might wobble or cavitate if the heavy spot is on the side (say, a tire boot or computer magnet), or if the wheel is out of dish. That's the heavy spot you're feeling, and it's also the frequency of rotation. In mechanics, it is known as RPM, but in music it is known as pitch. It's actually making a sound, something like 1 or 2 Hertz, but that's way lower than the threshold of human hearing. Which is why we call it 110 RPM rather than C-sharp.

Automotive mechanics has parallels. If your front wheels are out of balance, at higher speeds your steering wheel will shake. If you have a fouled or broken sparkplug or wire, one cylinder will misfire and the motor will jiggle on its mounts. Bad CV-joint? Big noise, big trouble. It will shake itself to pieces and put you into the ditch. The next time you're under your car, look at the driveshaft-you will probably see little squares of steel welded on here and there, which balance it. When I replaced the u-joints on my old Z, the manual stated that you must mark the position of the knuckles in relation to the shaft, and replace them in exactly the same way. They were balanced.

When you turn your cel phone to "silent," or "buzz," you engage a little out-of-balance motor rather than your ring tone. When you get a call, the motor spins and it shakes so badly that you can feel it in your pocket, and you know that a call is coming in.

There are other resonant frequencies on a bicycle. The distance from the fork end to the handlebar ends, for example. Or the entire distance from the front axle through the frame to the rear axle. On my old noodle Tommaso, I don't think I get a fork shimmy but I do get a wobble from the frame. It happens around 15-17mph, so its frequency would have a longer acoustic length, perhaps the distance from my seatpost to the front end somewhere, or it might be the length of the entire fork. When I sit up I can feel it immediately, and it will damp out if I put my hands on the ends of the handlebars, but it will not damp as quickly if I grab the handlebars near the stem. Could it be the length of the fork plus handlebars? The front wheel seems quiet, at higher speeds as well, but the frame is whipping back and forth. It's quite dramatic and a little wild, actually. I showed a riding buddy once, and he thought I was going down. (I didn't-it looks worse than it actually is). If I go a bit faster, or slower, it doesn't happen. If I input an interfering frequency by pedaling, it becomes intermittent. It will wobble, then still, then wobble, then still (this might be a parallel to the beats you can hear when a perfect interval is not tuned well). If I damp it between my legs, it stops. I recently took pains to balance the front wheel on that bike: we'll see if it helps.

Stealth Bike...NOT!

2008-07-09T14:35:00.000-07:00

Vote for one:

Theftproof bike
What are you looking at?
Please-don't-remind-me-of-1989 bike
Gawd-I-can't-believe-I-had-one-of-those bike
I can't feel my legs
I love that bike
Ugliest bike
Awesome bike!
What's in the pink pack?

ps: note the perfectly matched pedals.

His New Fetish

2008-06-30T21:17:00.000-07:00

Driving my son to school one morning I saw in my rearview mirror a car approaching fast. A rice-burner, with ground effects, carbon-fiber hood with nostrils, stupid stuff dangling from the rear-view mirror, etc. Like I said, approaching fast. Wanted to get up behind me before the light turned green, I suppose.
When he arrived, I saw the driver was talking on his cel phone. I looked again, and saw he wasn't talking, but rather, smooching, on his cel phone. Looking yet again, out of the corner of my eye, it seemed that he was actually smooching THE cel phone. Not talking, smooching. Rubbing it on his cheek. Fondling his cel phone. Touching it. Kissing it, licking it. Yes, licking it. Making some kind of love TO his CEL PHONE. Nobody on the other end, I swear, I was watching him in my rearview mirror, and there was no talking going on.
I was shocked.
What the hell kind of...?
A member of L. Ron Hoover's First Church of Appliantology? (See Frank Zappa, "Joe's Garage")
My mouth gaped. I unconsciously turned my face full-on toward my mirror and stared, and he evidently noticed the gesture. Down went the phone, up went the act like nothing happened. Cool, suave, studly dude. Race car driver.
Disconnected freak.
The light turned green, I took my time getting through the intersection, just to see what he'd do. Which was: turn left fast and get his embarrassed butt out of there.

Neat Stuff

2008-06-28T14:47:00.000-07:00

"I was just riding along and..."
This is a plasti....er, Carbon Fiber handlebar that broke for no apparent reason. No known trauma, no twenty thousand miles, no rough-and-tumble cyclocrossing, and luckily nobody got hurt. Don't think that we are against carbon fiber-plenty of steel and aluminum and titanium parts have broken too, as you can see throughout this blog-just be reminded that you have to watch out for yourself. Inspect your tires often. Don't tolerate worn or ill-adjusted brakes. Investigate creaks and clicks. Be sensitive to sudden changes in your bike's handling qualities or "feel." Get a yearly, professional tuneup.

1986 ZINN
I had a dream about using brass, or bronze, for lugs, and a week later this guy shows up. I've never seen such a thing-this seatstay cap is polished brass. Cool.

Mostly True Tales from the Trenches

2008-06-16T22:14:00.000-07:00

Nice customer story number one:

Bubba Dirtbag came in with his bruised drunken woman and said, "I need a tire."
I ask what size.
"26 by one and three-quarters."
What sort of bicycle is it on?
"An old Schwinn."
Do you happen to have any other numbers off the old tire? There is more than one size called that. Does it say one-point-seven-five or one-3-slash-4?
"It's a 26 by one and three-quarters."
The woman is looking vacantly down and off to one side. A little fidgety, too. Is she used to this?
Well, I'll need to see the old tire, or the bicycle, or the wheel so that I can sell you the right size.
"I said, it's a 26 by one and three-quarters."
Yes, and there are at least four different sizes that are called that, and they are not interchangeable. The rims are different, the tires are different, they are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE. (thinking: I'm not going to sell you a tire and then: a. you use two screwdrivers to crank it on, ruining the tire and your rim, or b. it goes on too loose but you're too ignorant to realize it and it blows up in your face. In either case it'll clearly be my fault for not recognizing that you're the world's most gifted bicycle mechanic)
"It's a 26 by ONE and THREE QUARTERS."
Yes, you said that, and you also said that it's from an old Schwinn, which further increases the chances that it's an odd size. Is it a 559? S7? S6? English? One-speed or multi-speed? (thinking: do you even know the difference between three-quarters and point-seven-five, or might it actually say three-eighths, but the sidewall is too crusty to read) I'll have to see the old tire, or the wheel, or the bike to get you the correct size. I'm not going to waste both of our time by selling you the wrong tire.
"It's a 26 by one and three-quarters. Don't you think that I know what I'm talking about? Do you think I'm some kind of moron? (getting a little hot now, starting to talk a little louder) I've been a mechanic for ALL MY LIFE, I can fix cars and motorcycles and lawn mowers and I've been working on bikes since I was a kid, and etc. etc. etc...."
I'm afraid I can't help you, you'll have to go somewhere else. There's another bike shop up on Littleton Boulevard, you can drive there in about ten minutes. Good luck.
I turn and walk away, and as he's leaving he can't slam the door because of the hydraulic closer. The woman keeps her respectful distance.

Nice customer story number two:

I show up an hour early many days in May and June so that I can be prepared to open on time. Today a half-hour before my clearly-posted opening time an SUV (of course) pulls up, and a woman gets out. She walks up to the door, pulls on it a couple times, looks at my hours, looks in the window, probably sees me working in the back room, goes back to her car, gets her cel phone, makes a call, and then stands by her driver's side door, talking, looking at her watch, leaning on one leg and tapping her other foot. Looking in my front window. Perturbed.
At quarter-to, I unlock the door, prop it open, and start to roll out bicycles which I display in the parking lot. I say, "I'll be with you in a few minutes." She's still standing there, tapping her foot, looking at her watch. By ten-to I've got my bikes out, lined up and cabled-up, and I go back inside, locking the front door behind me. I am not open yet.
Tapping foot.
Looking at watch.
Holding cel phone.
Not open yet.
Perturbed.
I don't make her wait all ten minutes-I let her stew until about five-to, then I go put up the "open" sign and go out.
"I need to work early so that I can open on time," I say.
"Well, fine, then," or something like that.
"What can I help you with today?" I ask.
"What can you do about this?" she asks, opening her back door.
There's a beat-up department store bike lying there, two flat tires, dust and cobwebs, etc. "I can tune it up for you, put some thorn-resistant tubes in the tires, clean it up and then you can ride it," I say.
"Can I come back later today for it?" she asks.
I try not to laugh. "Tune-ups are turning around in two weeks right now, this is the busiest time of the year. I'll do a good job for you, but it will take about two weeks."
"Well, what can you do for me now?"
(me, now)
"I can pump up the tires."
"That's it?"
"Ma'am, this bicycle is a wreck, it needs a complete tuneup and no doubt two tubes, maybe a chain and some cables, and I'm not even going to begin it unless I can finish it. I'll fill the tires, so you can know in a day or two whether they need to be replaced, or you may leave it here and pick it up when it's done in two weeks, or make an appointment with a deposit."
"But my son needs it to ride to work."
"I'll fill up the tires if you like."
"Well, can't you do anything more for me now?"
(ME, NOW)
"If you don't want me to inflate the tires, I'll have to be moving on."
"Well, can't you just check the brakes, and the shifters? Or do a Safety Check? When you pump up the tires?"
"No. I'm hestitant to even pump up the tires, and I'm definitely not willing to accept any liability for this bicycle by doing some half-way Safety Check. There is no such thing as a Safety Check. There's no bike that can be made safe with a check. This bike is UNSAFE. It needs a TUNEUP, which will make it safe to ride. I don't want to waste another moment on this, but I'll pump up the tires if you like. What do you want to do?"
"OK," she says, "you can pump up the tires for me now."
(me now)
I take the bike in, fill the tires, load the bike, and it will probably be in the dumpster by the weekend.

Observations of Frenchness

2008-05-11T19:50:00.000-07:00

Riding home some time ago I saw a stunning Citroen SM in a car dealer/restorer lot. Had to stop, and just stare for a while, you don't see these all the time. One of those low-slung, long, wide but small, beautiful, spacepod things, gobs of power and speed in a car that was built to driven by princes and artists and diplomats. A car, along with Jaguar E-series, Mercedes 240, '66 Mustang, that I've always wanted, actually fantasized that I could someday own and drive. Not drive a lot, of course, I'd keep my Volvo for actual use, but how can I explain, you either understand or you can't, what it would be like to just pull up a chair in my garage and sit there and stare. That's mine. I got one. It's awesome. It's French, it's different.

Intentionally. The French are different intentionally, I think. Before they make something, they look around, and they ask: What should work the best in this situation? What makes sense? Can we make it simple and effective? How do the English do it? The Italians? Those insolent Americans? Are there international standards? What does ISO have to say about it? JIS? What is accepted practice? What is normal? And when research is concluded, they sit down to figure out how to do something...else.

Something ELSE. While the rest of the world is using 100mm dropouts, they use...99mm. Where everyone else uses a 5mm cap screw, they use a...8mm...hex head. When everyone else uses paint, they use...chrome. Where everyone else uses chrome, they use...aluminum. Bushing? No, ball bearing. External sleeve? No, internal. Aluminum derailleur? No, plastic derailleur. Plastic shift levers. Even plastic brake levers. Isn't that cool? Plastic break levers. They won't break, they'll work fine. And even though Campy, Shimano, Suntour, Sugino, British, Italian, Swiss, BMX, Octalink, ISIS, it seems EVERYONE ELSE uses a 22mm crank extractor thread, they use...23mm. Except Stronglight, who used 23.35, because of course TA was already using 23.

23.35mm. How many Stronglight cranks have been ruined for lack of a 23.35mm extractor?

So many old French bikes have fallen victim to mechanics. Everybody screws up their first French bike, whether it's a Peugeot UO8 or a Singer. It doesn't matter, you have to be hyper-vigilant, as at some point you won't know whether that fastener is a right-hand or left-hand thread, or whether the nut on the other side is floating or welded on, or is there a bushing in there or bearings which will spill out all over the floor? Move slowly, don't adjust yourself into a corner and then have to re-engineer something.

Ever try to mount an old Ideale saddle? Sometimes your clamp tightens, sometimes it won't because the RAILS ARE A SMALLER DIAMETER than everyone else's! You have to use a French seatpost to do it reliably, but of course French seatposts are a special size, which means that you have to use a French frame, and then only French derailleurs, BB, headset, and hub O.L.D. fit into a French frame properly, so you might as well just capitulate and get a French bicycle if you want to use an Ideale saddle.

My (wonderful, sublime, French) randonneur bike has a 26.4mm seatpost, which the seat tube had to be shrunk to accept. And they didn't even do it well, I think perhaps in spite. Just to say, "see, here we thumbed this up just to annoy you, (vous poor uninlitenende anglais tripe), but we still think it will work fine." WHY DO THAT? Is it so important to use 26.4 that you have to alter a carefully-drawn tube to do it? Why not just use the 27.0mm that the tube is designed to take? Is it more convenient to swage a steel tube than it is to turn a different diameter into aluminum? If you have to use that seatpost, then why not use your own frenchy tubes duh that are already made to fit the post already duh, is that too obvious duh? Craziness!

Before WWII, when French gunnery experts were trying to decide on a bore size for the primary guns on battleship Richelieu, they certainly knew that other great maritime powers were using 14-inch, 15-, 16-, 17, and even 18-inch guns (bigger is better, normally, on a battleship). And of course having this information, they had a great and doubtless heated discussion over whether to employ....13.4-inch or 13.8-inch.

Have you ever had a pair of French shoes? I haven't. Italian, sure, I have four or five pairs, great shoes-they fit better the longer you have them. Chinese shoes, of course, a couple of pairs, cheap and effective, disposable, fit well new and wear out fast. English shoes, yes. American boots too, even got some Dutch clogs. But no French shoes. Why is that? Do they have special feet there? Not like Everybody Else's?

Vive la difference.

But that gorgeous car, I don't care if it's different. Maybe that's part of its charm. Think of automatic shift levers in cars...where do you imagine them? Of all the cars you've driven, how does the shifter work? Up and down, right? Whether it's on the column or on the hump, it's UP and DOWN. Or maybe TO and FROM. This one works...from left...to right. Or perhaps right to left, does it matter? Perhaps buttons on the ceiling were not possible? And I don't doubt that it's not the normal P-R-N-D-2-1, either. Probably R-N-1-2-D-P. It only makes sense if you're already used to it.

Open the hood, and what do you expect? Wires, hoses? Sure, lots of 'em. Maybe a nice polished cover? Black plastic cowls and a huge radiator? Ha. Green Hydropneumatic Spheres. That's right, green balls, at least four of them the size of large grapefruit. They operate as parts of the suspension, to raise and lower the car, among other things. What an interesting, great, completely arcane idea...raise and lower the car hydropneumatically. Self-levels with a load. Tiptoe through puddles, hunker down at higher speeds. Float more on cobbles. Bounce up and down at intersections. We can use it for steering too, and the headlights. Use it to adjust the windshield wipers. Maybe it can be hooked up to the radio. It won't leak. Air never leaks, neither does oil...it'll work fine. And how many headlights would you like while we're at it? One on each side? Maybe two on each side? How about six? Six headlights, three on each side, two pivoting with the steering wheel, which automatically re-centers when the car is not in motion.

Also, an oval steering wheel and gauges, aluminum bonnet, stainless trim. Front wheel drive. Carbon-fiber wheels were an option, as was a set of fitted luggage. Maserati engine, Lotus transmission. The brakes are operated with a button on the floor, not a pedal as with lesser cars.

Different.

Evidently the cars imported to the U.S. had four headlights, we just had to put our foot down. Picture used without permission and may be removed for any reason at any time.

Like beef? Pork? Chicken? Rattlesnake? Mule?
Try snails.

Potatoes? Onions? Turnips? Mushrooms?
Truffles.

Eiffel.
Debussy, Ravel.
Impressionism.
de Balzac.
Napoleon.
Cathars.

Well, I'm no expert. Don't even speak French. Never been there. But I sure liked that car.

More of the same

2008-04-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

This happened while parking the bike. Really.

This is not the same bike, this is a Rivendell. Very nice USA-produced frameset with hand-carved lugs. Extremely clean workmanship-filing, brazing, prep and paint are all wonderful. Hit this picture with your pointer and get right up close-try to find a flaw. I don't know any other maker that uses points so slim, or three waves on the top-this lug is unique to Rivendell, and won't ever be mistaken for another brand. A little opulent maybe, even baroque, but hell I'd ride it. Get it good and dirty!

5-9-08
I have been informed that this lug was actually supplied by Richard Sachs. It appears also to be used by Ted Wojcik, and perhaps others.

Things that might happen

2008-04-23T11:56:00.000-07:00

1. Despite clear majority support for Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton clinches the Democratic nomination by receiving barely enough superdelegate votes. Disgusted voters reject the ticket as just another backroom deal, and Obama and Ralph Nader form a third party.
2. A national security crisis in September, causing much death and destruction, is used to justify another invasion and a deepening of the current conflict. Conspiracy theories are rampant but are not reported in the mainstream media.
3. Election of John McCain on a "Patriot" platform, with Dick Cheney as Vice President, who install a "War Cabinet" and reinstitute the draft by executive order. Bush effectively steps aside in November, and is hailed as a "lover of peace" and "defender of freedom." Inauguration day is marked by rioting and violence, and scores of police and demonstrators are injured or killed nationwide.
4. The pope asks Catholics worldwide to stand down for peace, and he is assassinated. A logistical miscalculation causes Israel to blame the assassination on "Islamic Terrorists" before it has actually occurred.
5. Widespread civil rights abuses in the U.S. and abroad, flagrant disregard or suspension of rights guaranteed by the first, second, fourth, and sixth amendments, and international outcry against military actions. The Supreme Court remains silent.
6. A moratorium on immigration and foreign nationals sent home, leading to a domestic labor crisis and hyper-expensive groceries. Double-digit inflation.
7. Imported oil reaches $300 per barrel.
8. Mexico becomes the 51st state, providing cheap oil, cheap mineral resources, cheap labor, cheap manufacturing, and more young people to draft into service. Fortune-500 companies invest heavily and are richly rewarded. GMC and Chrysler move production to Mexico, Ford bankrupts, and Duesenberg reappears. Canadian newspapers decry "Fortress America" mentality, and are vilified by conservative U.S. media. Calls from the far right to annex Yukon Territory.
9. All domestic oil reserves are called into production, including new drilling in National Parks and Forests, and eminent domain provides new rights-of-way for miners and loggers.
10. E.U. and Russia enter trade agreement with China, effectively ending U.S. world economic hegemony.
11. China sells its treasury bills, further depressing the U.S. dollar.
12. Large-scale collapse of credit and banking system, exacerbated by a poorly-managed F.D.I.C. and its politically-appointed leadership. Price of Gold reaches all-time high.
13. The U.S. enters a second "great depression."
14. Automobiles become prohibitively expensive to maintain, and people can no longer afford to live in the suburbs.
15. People ride bicycles more and more.
16. Bike mechanics are in high demand and bike shop owners get rich.

More busted stuff

2008-04-17T16:26:00.000-07:00

Pushin' your luck.

Sorry, warranty not transferable.

Seat Lugs

2008-04-16T10:19:00.001-07:00

198? Mercian
That's a cute seat cluster. British. Nice brazing, carefully shaped and smoothed, a little florid but not ridiculous. Mercian frames are said to be "hearth brazed," which I believe means that a joint is heated over a bed of coals (rather than by a torch) prior to having the silver flowed in. The purple candy striping goes all the way down to the bottom bracket-talk about a challenging pinstripe job. Even now, faded and cracked and scratched, this is beautiful paint, and I'll strangle the vain fool who has a frame like this repainted (oh, I mean, "restored"...). Do you think you could find someone to do new striping like that?

197? Flying Dutchman
In its favor, I will tell you that this bike has seen about the worst treatment you can give an old road bike. Freezing rain, ice, snow, miles, dirt and rocks, mud, built and rebuilt, running into and jumping over things, dropping in on trails, bent, broken, repaired, repainted, etc...and it has SURVIVED. That's the good news. The bad news is, don't look too close. See the nasty repaint? See the file marks? See the rough edges? See the clamp ears which have deformed and now need to be shimmed with a Pepsi can? I'm being too critical-the stay end is shaped nicely, and there aren't any gratuitous globs or runs in the braze. A little rough perhaps, but durable enough, and the bike is said to handle well. The little window cut into the top of the lug lightens it a bit, looks interesting, and allows the builder to see when the silver has made good penetration. Probably Italian, built by an anonymous maker and rebranded by a (now defunct) Denver shop.

2008 Waterford RS-22
This is a Brand-New Hand-Made American frameset. (how many things are that these days?) Nice work-clean edges, minimal shape, fastback stays for lighter weight. This is probably a cast lug, quite strong and with a beefy, integral clamp which will never bend or break. The head lugs and fork crown are polished stainless steel, but you'll have to imagine those for the time being. Taken as a whole, the frameset has excellent workmanship, well-chosen materials and a high-quality finish, and presents a complete and elegant package. Arguably producing as good as any production frames ever made, certainly better than the vast majority, Waterford almost reaches the very top tier of custom framebuilders (though not quite, which is really not disappointing at one-half the price and one-tenth the wait!). I hope that whomever buys this frame will ride the hell out of it, and then pass it on to someone else who will ride the hell out of it. Looking around at some of my other fine, old bikes makes me wish to see it as it will be thirty years from now.

198? Centurion
Japanese. This is a pretty nice job for a production frame-slim, stylish, smooth finish, looks strong, but having a tasteless decal on those nice semi-wrap stay ends kinda cheapens it. And in its time it WAS cheaper than equivalent European frames-look close-compare it to other clusters pictured here-is this not as good as the best of them, almost? It's especially remarkable for a production frame-imagine some Japanese craftsman/woman brazing dozens of these a day-its amazing they could produce such uniform work. Imagine yourself in the same position, week after week month after month. Would you not, like I, grow bored and jaded and sloppy?
I'm a hypocrite for saying so, and I may be a snob too, but this a frame that could use a repaint-get those meaningless brands and ugly stickers off at least, so it's more of a "nice frame" than it is a "Centurion." I mean, who wants to ride a Centurion? It's none of anybody's business that your nice frame was made in (gulp) Asia. Hang some Campy stuff on it, nobody will ever know. But ride it, in any case. A good road bike is always a good road bike, and it should be ridden.

Compare and Contrast

2008-02-18T20:05:00.000-08:00

Late-80s DeRosa, Italian. Beautiful bike. Short-point lugs in a traditional manner, with chromed head lugs and fork crown. Campagnolo-equipped, of course. A sturdy bike; look at that clamp-it's solid steel and probably won't ever break or deform.

Late-80s Masi 3V, Italian. Though this and the DeRosa both have the traditional features of a little point on the top front and side-mounted seatstays, this cluster is a bit more modern than the DeRosa-its main triangle is internally lugged, enabling thinwall tubes which are in this case quite oversized, and the clamp bolt has been shrunken and recessed. Perhaps all of these refinements owing to pressure from, or lessons learned in, the American market? Faliero Masi was in California for some years trying to set up a shop, so it's entirely conceivable that he might adopt an iconoclastic attitude compared to the more traditional and conservative Italian national builders. Someone's motto "innovate or die" comes to mind, which since at least 1776 has been sort of an American Way of Thinking. It is said of some European manufacturers, on the other hand, that they do things a certain way because their fathers did it, and their fathers' fathers before that, etc., perpetuating in a way the system of guilds and apprenticeships found in some cases for many centuries past ("If it was good enough for _____, it's good enough for me").
This frameset is reputed by its owner to be very rigid. The bike is Campy-equipped (of course), with the awesome and maddening Delta brakes.

Late-80s Centurion, Japanese. Attractive bike. A well-built, functional, inexpensive copy. Nice shapes, well-done lining and pinstriping, excellent paint. Dia-Compe, SR, Suntour-equipped. The size of the lugs and the white lining look British to me, the scooped outside-mounted stay is Italianate, the lack of a top point lazy French, and that fragile little excuse for a clamp is all Japanese and bent, the fatal flaw.

More bad luck

2008-02-18T19:47:00.001-08:00

Wasn't this The Lightest Crankset at one time?

"Light, Strong, Cheap...pick two." -Keith Bontrager

Neat front wheel

2008-02-18T14:13:00.000-08:00

This turns out to be a good way to build a front wheel. For many of the wheels used to resuscitate old bikes that I ride, I'll make it a point of pride to use old stuff from my many and varied junk boxes. This is a good example-an old NR hub, spokes from some old French castoff, and a rim from something else. The spokes turned out to be too long, so this occurred to me as a solution. It took some figuring with the lengths and crosses, and about four times longer than normal to build, round, true, dish, stress, and tension, but it's a happy result. Nice and stiff, snappy, and cool too. Pretty damn durable, as well-this one is on its second bike, and sixth or seventh season of commuter fixxie hell. For myself and for a few customers, I've built a dozen or so wheels like this, putting one or two winds on the third cross, or one wind on the second cross, or one each on the second and third crosses (all plenty time-consuming and a good November project), and they're all still in service as far as I know. One of my rear wheel experiments, however, turned into a Pringle on the test ride: that one, if I remember correctly, I twisted at the second cross-I think that it caused torsional force from the hub to increase spoke tension ninety degrees opposed to a decreased spoke tension, which defeated the evenness of my truing stand work. Another rear wheel with a single twist at the fourth cross is more stable, but it clicks and creaks and snaps as the crossed spokes rub against each other. Net result: front wheels only!

2008-02-17T13:58:00.000-08:00

I rode the wrong bike today. Snowy wet cold, and no fenders. Yelck. It wasn't this way when I left home. Not only that, I rode my new bike that I wanted to take better care of.

That's a slush-sicle on the brake bridge. The seat tube and my butt were also covered with the stuff. The bamboo bike-I've been a little worried about how weather will affect it, I guess if I'm going to ride it I might as well resign myself to finding out. The maker (Calfee) has assured me that there's really nothing to worry about, but still...
The green bike hanging in the background is what I'll ride home, a '72 Bottecchia converted into a fixxie, with fenders and 28c commuter tires, another resurrected old bike that I got for $20. Good winter bike, if there's not much ice, but handles a little funky-boatloads of fork rake on a 75-degree headtube. Can you say "understeer?"

Virtual People

2008-02-13T10:19:00.000-08:00

There was a woman talking on her cel phone in Costco yesterday. I first saw her as I was walking in the front door, talking on her cel phone, and, having arrived at approximately the same time, as we did our shopping we were never more than an aisle apart, so I saw her often, talking on her cel phone. I picked up some grated cheese, and there she was, talking on her cel phone. I moved into the freezer aisle for some blueberries, and there she was, talking on her cel phone. Got a toaster oven sample, and there she was, talking on her cel phone. Dairy aisle, talking on her cel phone. Cereal, talking on her cel phone. A half-hour later, talking on her cel phone. Checking out, I saw her lining up a few rows away, talking on her cel phone. Did she pause to say "thank you" to the checker?
I have no doubt that the conversation started before she got into her vehicle, occupied at least half of her mind while driving, and will continue probably until her battery goes dead. Maybe she carries a spare battery.

What a sad life some of us lead. Get up in the morning. Make a call. One hand is all you need to pop your freezer breakfast into the heater. Turn on the TV. Make a call. Slip-on shoes so one hand can hold the phone up. Might as well use an ear bud so you can keep talking while you take a dump, fix your hair, put on your makeup, file your corns, shape your nails. God forbid someone should see you unprepared! Make a call. Go the the garage, climb into your mobile living room. Don't even take a coat. Snowing today? Wear you high-heeled BOOTS. Let the garage door open itself. Talk. Drive. Automatic transmission just requires one foot, leaving your mind free for the call, how convenient! Go shopping. Make a call. Go to work. Make a call. Your boss prohibits talking on cel phones? Text message. Or go to a chat room. But keep an extra window open so you can look like you're working at a moment's notice. Get off work. Make a call. Back to your Dummer in the parking garage. Blah blah blah. Have you been outside yet today? Faced the weather? Got any dirt on your hands? What about your shoes, walked on anything other than carpet and tile? Seen a bird? Smelled the pollen? Heard the wind in the trees? Is your reality entirely virtual, do you experience the world through the TV screen, the windshield, the monitor, your microwave, the climate control in your car, your pop radio, your contacts, hiding behind your makeup, your hair, your fashions, talking to people electronically, everything carefully filtered and cleansed and purified and fake?

Get on a bike, for gods sake. Grrrr!

Stereotypes

2008-02-05T17:56:00.000-08:00

"Heaven is where the police are British, the chefs Italian, the mechanics German, the lovers French, and it is all organized by the Swiss. Hell is where the police are German, the chefs British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, and it is all organized by the Italians." -anonymous

A Reflection on the Future

2008-01-31T22:12:00.000-08:00

The old man saw out the window a plastic representation of an owl. And he remembered the past, what it used to be, where it has gone.
"We had bicycles," he said.
The nurse nodded politely.
"And we rode them along Cherry Creek."
She puzzled for a moment, and asked, "You rode bicycles along Cherry Creek?"
"Yes, and there were owls. They would sit in the trees, you could find them at night."
She paused in her ministrations, lost of the vision, unbelieving. Then replaced the pan before preparing to leave.
"The owls, they would sit up high in the trees and discuss with each other in their hooting voices, as we passed below," he said, "and there were foxes, and beavers, eagles, trees, rocks and cliffs, and the water would rise so high that it would overflow the banks and flood the trails, leaving huge piles of flotsam and mud. But one summer we had such a drought that you could step over the creek in many places, or cycle right through it without getting your feet wet."
Struggling with the picture, "Cherry River?" the nurse wondered, aloud.
"Creek, Cherry Creek," the old man corrected, "it used to run right through Denver, toward the southeast and eventually out onto the plains...we rode bicycles through the woods there, for miles."
"Were you afraid, did you carry guns?"
"Afraid of what?"
"The wild animals-wild animals used to eat people and pets, that's why we had to take away the places where they lived-in order to protect society."
"You don't have any idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
"Is it near Cherry Flat Park?" asked the nurse, still unbelieving.
"Same thing. Cherry Creek, Flat Park, same thing," he answered.
"But, there is no river there, no trees, just the Flat Park," she described.
"You can't see it, but the river is still there. What is left of it runs underground, through a usually dry concrete pipe. And underneath Cherry Square is a giant reservoir that holds the water not used by the city, which isn't much, actually, and the creek as it was once known is gone. Unused, unneeded. Perhaps too many people were trying to camp there during the depression, and it got to be crime- and filth-ridden. But the creek is still there, in the form of that pipe, which is actually underneath Flat Park, and hasn't been wet for decades. By now it's certainly collapsed and filled in many places. Those huge concrete slabs and rails you see there today cover up what is left of the creek, it being an important transportation corridor and open space. How Orwellian-there's a term from way back, 'open space,' which has come to mean something entirely opposite from its previous use. There used to be streets running on both sides of the creek, then buildings further out, but now those streets are gone and buildings have been erected right up to where the beaches and palisades of the creek were, and Flat Park is now how you get from downtown to Cherry Square. They've covered Cherry Creek, improved it to the point that it has vanished. Improved the hell out of it, I'd say."
"I don't believe it. You can't ride a bike there, it's against the law. And there aren't any trees or rivers or owls, that's for sure. I've never seen any animals there except for those little housedogs people bring, and pigeons of course. You're just imagining all that, you senile old coot." And then, having loaded her cart, she left.
"Exactly," said the old man.

Five Hundred Rides

2008-01-31T21:02:00.000-08:00

I looked down at the snow running beneath my tires, and realized that none had ever ridden here before. The beauty of fresh-fallen snow is lost on the little animals that first break the trails, isn't it? Do the rabbits whose tracks cross back-and-forth, diving from willow to willow, or burrowing into brushpiles, have fun? Do they laugh? Do the mice which pop up randomly and then disappear back into the same hole lick the snow from their whiskers? Can they taste my tires? Do the coyotes run this very same trail, masters of the terrain, king of the food chain, need to hide from anything? Opportunists ready to ruin somebody's day, will they find a tasty housecat? But no person has broken this trail. Freshie. Quiet, serene. Clean. Still. Alone, surrounded by the city. With a layer of ice underneath just when you least expect it. Going around a corner, climbing the Castle Wall a slight mis-step will send you and your bike into the moat. Will the beavers come to look, to slap the water with their tails, to tell the story back at the lodge? I look ahead, in the darkness the white stripe of the singletrack, my lights unnecessary, intrusive, even unwise as they keep my focus too close. Nix 'em. Plenty of ambient light, reflections from the overcast. The white line ahead broken suddenly by a blankness, a blackness indicating a trail which has caved into the river. Do I brake? Swerve? Jump? Panic? Decide fast! Instant broken something, better look sharp!
I have broken my leg here, wearing these gloves. Falling off one of these battlements. I have broken my other leg on Loveland, wearing these gloves. I have flatted in these gloves. Dented my frame. Busted my hanger. Bent handlebars. Lost my keys. Can gloves be unlucky? How is it that I still live, that my bike still goes, that I still have ten fingers if it is so? How many rides have these gloves seen? Cold, snowy, rainy snowy, snowy icy, cold sunny, icy sunny, dark dry cold, below zero insane, lost in a blizzard, happy rides? How many miles? How many lifetimes?
My bike, it knows the way. Has been here before, withstood the trials, healed the injuries, comes here in its dreams, waits patiently for the Tuesday communion. Weather notwithstanding, the worse the better. So many rides, so many times, so many friends. Perfectly adapted to its intended use, evolution being what it is. So many parts cast off, selected against, killed in violent events of punctuated equilibrium: forks, tires, chains, derailleurs, rims, chainrings, cogs, tape, tubes, dozens of patches. HUNDREDS of patches. Ten years now, once a week all year, not quite every year. 8x52=416 Four hundred sixteen rides?
Four hundred sixteen rides, plus more. Sundays along Bear Creek, 3x25=75. The epic to Estes Park. Commutes. Green Mountain. Apex. Chimney Gulch. Five hundred rides on this old bike? Six hundred? A thousand? Can it be? Does a bike grow a soul?

In Flanders Fields

2008-01-25T10:19:00.000-08:00

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— John McCrae

Another old bike

2008-01-24T10:33:00.000-08:00

Yep, I'm starting this with another seat cluster.
From a (purported) mid-1950s Maino. (say “My-ee-no”) The bolt is in front and on top! On a brand-new bike, you might hear, “oh, that’s a new idea!” Guess again. This is from fifty years ago. The bike is Italian, but the lug shape reminds me of some French bikes; that upside-down mouth cutout looks like a Singer or Herse.

This 57cm frame has 71.5/72 degree head and seat tube angles and 46cm chainstays; that’s not exactly a speed-demon geometry by modern standards, but it’s not a farm truck, either. It appears to have a fairly normal fork rake for the time-kinda long but not ridiculous. For bad roads (think post-war Europe) it is a nice compromise and probably a pretty neutral-handling bike.
As outfitted, with 32mm tires and fenders, it makes a nice fast but practical bike for cobbles or gravel or rain or whatever. But you could use it for racing or sport riding, too...nix the fenders, swap the wheels for some lightweight tubulars, and in ten minutes you’re ready to go. It turns into a completely different bike. The present Pneumatici Clement tires (presumeably original) are 700c, so a tubular wheelset will basically fit right in and you might not even have to adjust the brake blocks. Clamp the rear wheel far forward in the dropouts to gain another half-degree or so on the frame angles and nip off a few centimeters from effective chainstay length, too, causing the handling to be a tad quicker to complement the faster wheels.

Before carbon fiber cranksets there were aluminum. And before aluminum there were steel. And the best cranksets were made out of steel because, well, there wasn’t anything else. Wood broke. So did bone. And iron was brittle. My picture doesn’t do this piece justice-all those cheesy ugly cheap cottered cranks you’ve seen on ‘70s bike boom imports are nothing compared to this jewel. Made by Marinoni, or perhaps Gnutti-there are some companies you don’t hear from any more. Stamped “Maino,” like most of the components used on the bike.
Notice the lack of cables around the bottom bracket. The rear derailleur housing dives into the down tube next to the shift lever, swings right through the bb shell and into the right chainstay before emerging again a little forward of the dropout. Four gears are controlled by a drum-spring Benelux derailleur. Do you really need more than four? In some quarters (England, for example) even that was seen as excessive.

The bottle (canteen?) is aluminum and has a cork stopper. High levels of Aluminum have been observed in the brains of Alzheimer patients. You can draw your own conclusions...
What you don’t see is that under this bottle there is a little button which (when depressed) releases the cage from its clamps, so if you’re not going far you just leave the bottle and cage at home.

This bike just blows me away. As far as I can tell, it is all original (except for that French saddle?), right down to the whitewall Pneumatici Clement tyres.

The great racer Constante Girardengo turned pro in 1913 with the Maino-Dunlop team, and Learco Guerra won the 1933 Milan-San Remo and the 1934 Giro d’Italia both with Maino. Guerra also was 1931 World Road Racing Champion and Champion of Italy from 1930-34, presumably also while riding with Maino. They called him "the locomotive." Someone please correct me if I have erroneous information, or add what you can find...I have pieced this all together from various sources. An acquaintance gave me an “wayback machines” article by Jim Langley, found in Bicycling! featuring a Maino, and at http://www.cyclingnews.com/sponsors/italia/2003/100years/?id=exhibition
you can see a picture of one of Guerra’s actual bicycles. Also, a Maino motorcycle was made in Italy from 1902-1956. Other than these references, the company has vanished. Even http://www.classicrendezvous.com/main.htm doesn’t have a listing for the brand. Didn’t they import much to the U.S.? Are they blacklisted Commies? Fascists? What’s the deal?
Here is another link, to a pre-WWII poster with Girardengo and his Maino bicycle; notice the cluster shape and fixing bolt location: http://us.st11.yimg.com/store1.yimg.com/I/velogear_1884_16658812
It’s a good bet that the company pulled some weight in the Italian cycling industry in their time-aside from the evidence of a successful pre-war team, many of the parts are branded “Maino,” including pedals, crankset, pump, hubs, rims, and brake levers. It seems unlikely that these were all made BY Maino, but rather FOR them by others. The hubs, for example, have Gnutti skewers, for whatever that is worth.

Even the fender hardware is custom-made with an “M” stamped in. Check out the front fender extension-there’s something vainglorious about that little piece-something about its shape that works subconsciously, maybe, to a guy? I have never seen such before-keeps the water contained a little perhaps, but I thinks its main purpose is to attract the eye. Sort of a mixture of practical and blustery, maybe a little bragadoccio. Like a codpiece. Or one of those rubber scrotums that cowboys (among others) like to hang under their pickups. It also reminds me a little of the nape of a helmet il Duce was photographed in, or maybe Lorenzo de Medici or Caeser Augustus? Italian. And why doesn’t the fender extend forward past the front brake?? It hasn’t been cut-the leading edge is rolled and painted. Hmmm, strange....
Since this bike was discovered a few years ago, the only work that has been done is some careful, conservative, cleaning. And only on the drive side, at that. I did put air into the tubes, which are fortunately sound. I don't see that the old guy will ever be ridden again, so it's stupid to destroy the tires just to replace them with incorrect modern ones so somebody could ride it around the block once or twice. And I certainly would never repaint it...that original yellow paint and decals can't be replaced. That is the paint the bike had all those years ago, it's the paint it had on the boat coming from Italy, it's the paint and the grease and maybe even some of the dirt from its very first ride all those years ago, and maybe even Don Maino himself touched that bike. Even if I could find a perfect match for the paint and decals, they would still be just reproductions. Once lost, the original condition will never be regained. Never. What a shame that would be. When I see old bikes all primped and polished and posed, I often think of the Antiques Roadshow, like when the assessor says, "If this Boston tea table retained its original finish, it could be worth, at auction, $450,000, but now since it has been refinished...."

Perfection

2008-01-22T11:26:00.000-08:00

"In anything at all, perfection is finally attained not when there is no longer anything to add, but when there is no longer anything to take away." -Antoine de Saint Exupery

More seat clusters

2008-01-12T09:50:00.000-08:00

Here is a seat cluster from a bamboo bicycle made by Calfee:

Yes, bamboo. The canes have been selected, cut, and mitered, and are held together in this case by hemp soaked in some sort of resin. Other bamboo frames by Calfee have been "lugged" together with carbon fibers in resin.
This bike rides really nicely-stiff like aluminum, probably due to the oversize tubes, er, sticks, but more muted like a nice steel frame. There is not much springiness, though, like you would find in steel or titanium-bumps and blips and waves in the pavement don't twang or resonate or bounce like in some frames made of those metals. Hits are not as sharp, nor do they have that hard, stomping-on-a-rock bone-jarring feel of a big-diameter aluminum frame. I don't know how to explain this, it's like talking about music...you have to use words that are relative to other things. Like "blue," a color, is understood to mean "sad" or "melancholy" in music. This bike feels a little transparent-it's tough to pin a character onto it, though. "Alive," maybe? Perhaps because the frame is made from an organic substance-it feels like it is actually working on its own, maybe pushing back against hits. Power transfer is great-it doesn't hesitate in a jump, doesn't seem to flex unfavorably, doesn't creak or groan. Perfect alignment; I can let go and sit up and it goes right straight ahead, no bobbles or wobbles or leaning or arm waving, it goes right where I look. And it hums, literally...makes a sound like a soft whirring hum as it rolls along. Hrmzhhhhhhhh. At first I thought it was the tires, but these GP3's are on other bikes that I ride, and they are really remarkably quiet in those other instances.
Evolution has done well with bamboo-the density is greatest toward the outside, rather than in the heartwood as with a tree. The canes used in the toptube and dowtube of this frame are from plants dozens of feet high. Think of a tree dozens of feet high-you couldn't get your arms around the trunk. These centers are actually hollow. In the orient they build skyscrapers using bamboo staging. It is said to be stronger than steel in some ways; supposedly any weakness is absorbed by the whole (flexible) structure rather than being concentrated in a stress riser resulting in a break. As the plant grows, it sends more mass to weak areas-thicker cell walls, more cells, cellular structures oriented in a particular way. And if there is damage or an injury of some sort, it heals stronger than it was before. Someone opined that this frame really is "carbon fiber," and I suppose that's right-what we normally call a "carbon fiber" frame is actually made of resin held together with fibers oriented to give a particular kind of rigidity, or layered to give a particular level of strength or durability. "Carbon fiber" frames have evolved for what, 20 years?, by being subjected to rides and crashes and technical advances, among other things, whereas bamboo has evolved in response to its natural environment for millions of years.
Stay tuned, more in later posts...

Calfee is known primarily for handmade carbon-fiber frames, and here's his signature seat lug:

This is a demo bike in my shop. And just about the most seductive thing going. Raw finish, no clear coat or paint or nothing-when you touch it you're touching the carbon fibers. Paints and clearcoats and translucents of all sorts are also available, so if you don't happen to like the stealth look you can have something else. Like the bamboo bike, this one is perfectly aligned. Handling is beyond excellent. Balanced, neutral, predictable, straight. Gets better the faster you go. Maybe just a tad on the rigid side, but that's just me looking for something to say. Quiet and damp like you expect from carbon fiber. There's another one of those words-damp-borrowing from acoustics.
Calfee is said to reject a number of forks that he receives-apparently every one goes into his jig and is either accepted for use with a new frameset or rejected and sent, uh, somewhere else. I don't know how many he actually rejects, and what brands and models they are, or how he gets away with that at all, but the end product is fabulous. Top-tier.

2007-12-24T13:32:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas!

My favorite bike

2007-12-22T09:14:00.001-08:00

The more you ride a bicycle, the more your realize that you need more than one bicycle. Forget what those silly randonnistas say, if you ride all year in every condition on every terrain weather notwithstanding, you need more than one bike. Riding with your friends in the Summer requires a fancy and fast bike, to more easily humiliate them (of course they are operating under the same pretense, you must remember-this can quickly escalate into a sort of arms race), riding at night requires a sturdy bike so you can bump over things that you don't see, riding with a load requires racks, which aren't probably on your fast bike but may be on your sturdy bike, riding Apex generally requires a mountain bike, riding in the rain requires fenders, and for contemplative rides nothing beats a fixed gear. If you want to have a contemplative ride in the rain, well, that takes a fixxie with fenders, and if you want to go on a fast summer ride at night in the rain with your friends at Apex..... And now that you have a good excuse for your spouse when she/he asks, "Honey, how come you have to have seven bicycles," what's so hard about having just one more? She/he may not even notice! (this has not been my experience, however-while my wife never really noticed how MANY bikes I have, she did notice that my bike space got bigger every year-"honey, why can't I get my car into the garage any more?" up until the point that I opened a bike shop...now she doesn't notice so much any more!)

Winter riding also requires a special bicycle. I have been waiting since March to pull out my winter bike. It has been hanging in my garage resting patiently since then, ready at a moment's notice to spring into service. Smashing through crusty snow, blasting through snowplow drifts, swimming through champagne slush, chewing up ice: these are the things a good winter bike lives for. Here's my winter bike:

I got this frameset from my therapist, who has a knack of finding interesting bicycles in thrift shops. $20. I think it is a Mercier-what was left of the original components were mostly French, and the lugs and fork are extremely similar to at least one other Mercier that I have recently worked on. It had been repainted black, with new dropouts installed. As I often do with such wrecks, I stripped it of all the parts, checked and (where possible) corrected frame and fork alignment, and then rebuilt it.

Generally my favorite bike is the one that I'm riding, especially if it is well-suited to the task at hand. I didn't have a particular vision for this bike at first, so I just turned it into a fixxie and started riding it back and forth to work. But it filled a need that I didn't have-how many resurrected fixxies can I need to ride back and forth to work, anyway? And I didn't think it really handled that well with skinny tires-too floppy, too much oversteer. I have better junk fixxies that I'd rather ride. At some point it dawned on me that there was enough clearance for big tires AND fenders, so that's the direction I went. Now it has studded tires which really, really work on ice, a huge mudflap on the front fender to protect my chain and my feet, and a light set because it gets dark at 5:00. And a rack trunk for extra clothing and lunch (sorry randonnistas, no handlebar pack for me-I like to see AND control where my front wheel is going). Snow and ice make short work of derailleurs, so the fixed rear wheel is just right. And since it snowed last night, this is my favorite bike today.

Buddhist joke

2007-12-20T16:27:00.000-08:00

A preacher goes to see a monk living on a mountaintop.
Monk says, "Come in, my friend."
Preacher follows him into an empty room, and they sit down on the floor.
"Where's your furniture?" asks the preacher.
"Where's yours?" rejoins the monk.
"I'm just passing through," says the preacher.
"So am I," says the monk.

More carnage

2007-12-17T22:02:00.000-08:00

That's a titanium hanger right there, bent. And a Dura-Ace derailleur, ripped apart. The jockey wheels and inner cage are lost on the roadside. The rear wheel lost a good number of drive-side spokes, the chain was destroyed, and the ride ruined. As was the rest of the week. Damn.

Busted frame

2007-12-17T21:51:00.001-08:00

Carbon fiber meets park bench. We sent this frame in to Craig Calfee and he actually fixed it, and it came out pretty nice. Sorry, I didn't take an "after" picture. Not cheap, but definitely a better alternative than buying a new frame.

Bent frame

2007-12-17T21:40:00.000-08:00

Oops. Shouldn'a jumped off that loading dock.

Right of way

2007-12-16T15:05:00.000-08:00

Passing on your left.
On Your Left!
Two gals rollerblading on the trail, one on the right, ahead of me, the other on the left, on the wrong side of the yellow centerline. Listening to their tunes. Oblivious.
HELLOOOO???!
"We have a right of way here too, you know," she says.
I'm not so sure about that.

2007-10-09T08:04:00.000-07:00

Years ago, when I was trying to make a living as a musician, I spent a lot of time on the road. In my car, often late at night. Early in the morning might be a better way to say it.

One night I was falling asleep behind the wheel so I pulled over into a hotel parking lot to get some shuteye. I had a car full of stuff-my tux bag, trombone, mute bag, a small suitcase, a bicycle, various other items and probably some McDonalds waste as well.
At 4:10 in the morning (I had a little digital clock on my dash) I was wakened by the sound of rapping on my driver’s side window. Squinting through my bleary eyes I made out the shape of a cop, shining his flashlight through the window into my eyes. He had his right hand on his holster.
As I rolled down the window, I noticed another officer behind him, also shining a flashlight at me. I said, “what’s up?”
“Who are you? What are you doing here? Is this your car? I need to see your license and registration and proof of insurance. Why are you here? Where are you going? What’s all that stuff in your car?” etc. etc. etc.
I’m beginning to grasp my position by now-I’ve noticed another officer outside the passenger’s side door, also with a flashlight, and a fourth man behind the car with his flashlight as well. I’m surrounded.
“Let me see your hands. What are you doing here? Who are you?’” The questioning continues.
I start to explain, “Well, see, I play the trombone. And I had a gig with KENNY PAULSEN (the previous county sheriff, who runs a dance band), and I’m driving home after the show, and I got sleepy, and I thought I would just pull over here for a while and rest, so that I wouldn’t fall asleep behind the wheel and CRASH MY CAR AND KILL EVERYONE.”
“Oh,” says cop number one.
“Here’s all the documentation you asked for.” As I hand him the things he had asked for (all current and proper).
“Well, we’ve had some thefts reported tonight here in the parking lot. Somebody has been going around breaking into cars.”
They thought they had their man, I guess. He stepped aside to his cruiser to call in the report and check my creds, after which he gave some sort of “all safe” signal to his buddies, who were visibly relieved-the flashlights went down, holsters were snapped back closed, and they all turned away to other concerns.
“You’d better get out of here,” he said, “and drive safely.”
And I left.

Another time, I’m driving down the main East-West road in north Burlington at 3:00 in the morning, almost home, and in the middle of the road I see a Possum. A big, hairy, no, make that HUGE, almost BALD, honking bull possum.
I’m not going to hit that animal if I can help it-it’s going to do some serious damage to my little 240Z, and memories of a deer hit some years previous come to mind. So I hit the brakes pretty hard, and start to veer right. As I’m passing the animal, I see that it has already been hit, and is bleeding and staggering and it looks to me like suffering.
What am I going to do about this? Ignore it, go home and get to bed? Find a big rock and smash it’s brains out? What about a big stick? I cant’ just let it die there in the middle of the road...even if I can forget about the suffering, that guy is big enough to cause some serious damage to someone's car. What if someone hits it and crashes?
Hmmm.
So I went home. Got my BB gun. A BB pistol, actually. Went back to the scene, parked in the middle of the 4-lane road, installed a fresh CO2 cartridge, chambered a ball, and shot the possum right between the eyes. He collapsed in a heap immediately. Then I repeated the procedure.
Then I heard the engine. rrrrmmmmMMMMM, from behind. I stood up, turned around, and two blocks away, coming right at me, a mass of lights-white, flashing, red, and blue...flashing.
Oh, shit. Three in the morning. Middle of the road. Pistol. Large dead thing. Hmmm.
I put the gun down on the hood of my car, turned toward the police car, and put my hands in the air.
The cruiser pulled up to about twenty feet away, lights all shining right on me, the driver’s door opened and the officer assumed his defensive posture. One hand on his radio, the other hand on his revolver, no doubt.
After a minute or so of wondering how this was all going to turn out, I heard another car coming at me from the opposite direction. I turned my head around to look, and there were the lights-white, red, blue, all flashing.
When the second car arrived and its driver had assumed his “defensive posture,” the first officer came out and approached me.
“What’s going on here,” he wanted to know.
“Well, see, I play the trombone. And I was on a gig with KENNY PAULSON, and I’m driving home, and I see this animal here, and I, uh, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but, uh, it didn’t look like a good place for a big animal to die, so I went on home and got my BB gun and came back to finish it and move it off the roadway.”
“Oh,” says the cop.
And I just stood there, and enjoyed watching my story sink in.
“You’re a trombone player?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“And that’s a BB gun?”
“Yep.”
“Hmmm.”
Long pause.
“Well, we’ll take care of this. You can go home now.”
Which I did.
A cop’s job is full of danger, violence, and tragedy. It takes a special person-when there’s trouble, who do you call? When there’s danger, who is the first to step in? The night shift is the worst-all the rats come out of their holes and darkness hides what isn’t presentable in the daytime.
The police didn’t ID me, didn’t check my registration or insurance (actually, I don’t doubt that he radioed-in my license plate number), didn’t look at the pistol. In retrospect, he may have regretted not inspecting things a little more closely, but I suppose he was just shocked at the novelty of the situation, relieved that it wasn’t at all what it first appeared to be, and surely he was looking forward to telling the story back at the station.

2007-10-04T16:24:00.000-07:00

“There is no nonsense so errant that it cannot be made the creed of the vast majority by adequate governmental action.” - Bertrand Russell

Beyond the question of a "liberal media," which Chomsky has quite thoroughly debunked, one wonders why have we not heard more good news from Iraq, heard more of the "good works" of our soldiers.

Could it be simply that the stories are being suppressed? I doubt it-those charged with censoring news would kill the BAD news, not the GOOD news. Certainly that is the case with government and military censors, but probably also with network censors, who often simply repeat what they are told by sources.

Could it be that the audience is just not interested in good news? Perhaps. What are the demographics of mass media audiences? At the risk of stereotyping, are there more conservatives or liberals watching ABC Nightly News? NBC? CNN? More christians or secularists? Moslems? Atheists? Educated or not? We know who listens to Rush Limbaugh and Mike Rosen-do their "reports" include the good news? What does the audience want to hear? What causes ratings to spike? What sells product?

Nobody is blaming the soldiers. Nobody is shouting "baby killers", or spitting on them. It is widely recognized that our military is the best and most professional ever in the history of the world. I believe that the military tries very hard to avoid "collateral damage," but they have been given an impossible mission. Anyone who pays any attention knows that even though the bad news is the big story, it's not the whole story.

Could it possibly be that there just is so little good news that it's lost in the flood?

The war in Iraq, cost so far in USD: over $450,000,000,000. The amount of that each U.S. citizen owes (not including interest): $1,500. That's about the size of the check I wrote to Uncle Sam on April 14. I could use that money, personally. That's enough to feed all of Africa for a year. Enough to pay for three million eight hundred thousand 4-year college degrees, money for which would actually stay here in our U.S. economy. Enough to totally refurbish Walter Reed with about 300 billion left over. (talk about supporting the troops!). I could go on...

Has the coalition built a new school for every one it has bombed?
Has the coalition fed and educated a child for every one it has killed?
Housed a family for every one it has slaughtered?
Built a house for every one it has leveled?
Are Halliburton, Bechtel, Arlington, and others operationg efficiently?
Are they using local labor at $4/hour, or crony labor at $250/hour?
Are they using local materials, or flying-in 2x4's and readi-mix on C-130's?
How much money is missing?
Has anyone learned anything from this?

Who to watch out for.

2007-09-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

The worst drivers in town are on the street that passes in front of Wal-mart. Rude, unyielding, ignorant. Downright dangerous. One of them pulled up behind me at the stoplight exiting the parking lot and leaned on his horn. After he passed me (horn blaring) I chased him down and leaned on his car at the next red light. He opened his window and said, “get your hand off my car.”
I said, “what’s your problem?”
He said, “don’t you know, bicyclists are supposed to ride on the right hand side of the road.” And he pulls out his cell phone. Points it right at me, like he’s gonna shoot me with it or something.
I said, “no, you’ve got that wrong. I can ride anywhere in the right lane I want. The whole lane is mine. The WHOLE LANE. If you doubt that, you can go to the public library and look it up in the code.”
He said, “get your hand off my car or I’m calling the polics.”
I said, “why don’t you go ahead now and call the police?”
He said something else.
I said, “call the police. RIGHT NOW.”
He said something else.
I said, “CALL THE POLICE OR I WILL.”
Then the light turned green and he honked his horn again and got out of there.
I got his license number, but by the time I got home, it’s like, “whatever.”

Another one was entering the roundabout a block east of Wal-mart. A lady driving a new Honda SUV, inching forward through the yield sign into my right of way. I saw what was going to happen so I grabbed my pump, held it up over my head and charged right straight at her, like I was going to smash her nice car to bits. She finally found the brake pedal, and I continued on past victorious. And I gave her a nice wave.

A third bozo cut me off right there at the roundabout and I gave chase. Just about the time I was about to catch him, I grabbed my water bottle with the intent of giving him a good squirt right through his driver-side window. But he made a quick u-ey in front of the Church of Scientology and headed back toward the roundabout, fast as he could. Maybe he just hangs out there and messes up traffic for a hobby?

A FOURTH moron, actually a dim little old lady, driving one of those four-door pseudo-luxury USA-mobiles looked right into my eyes before turning right in front of me. RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I had to slam on my brakes or crash. Well, she wasn’t very hard to chase down-I got her in the Wal-mart parking lot as she was opening her door, and said, “you cut me off back there, why did you do that?”
And she said, “Oh, I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t believe it. She was SORRY!

A gal came up behind me on a residential street nearby, passed me then made a right turn right in front of me.
I’m getting a little tired of this, now.
I chased her down, knocked on her window and when she opened it I asked “why did you cut me off back there?”
She said, “I didn’t know if you were turning or not.”
Hmmm. Guess I didn’t use my GO STRAIGHT SIGNAL!

Just this morning a car passed me doing about forty, and the dirtbag passenger leaned out the window and shouted, “HYBDUG LACHNIAZ PSHNORMBID WLKCUIUNYH UP!” What a rude thing to say, I think.

buying Chinese

2007-09-29T19:09:00.000-07:00

Selected words screened out of Microsoft’s Chinese web portal, as reported by Rocky Mountain News:

Capitalism
Freedom
Liberty
Demonstration
Separatism
Democracy
Human Rights

Shooting the Gappers

2007-09-25T22:57:00.001-07:00

A few Sundays ago I was coming up the Platte River Trail. Near Mineral there were a couple with a baby stroller in front of me and coming at us from the opposite direction, not twenty feet away, two more people with a pair of leashed dogs. Everyone out to enjoy a warm weekend. I slowed down to wait for the two parties to pass each other, so that I could proceed safely around the stoller and then ride on to work.

And what do you suppose happened? Two posers in their flashy team apparel passed me going about 25 (speed limit 15) and SHOT THE GAP with maybe twelve inches to spare on either side! I couldn’t believe it. What the hell? Why do you think there has to be a speed limit posted there? Why do you think people bad-mouth cyclists on the path? Because of idiots like them. If one of those guys had tagged someone and crashed, I’d have been the one to tape their sorry butt back together and you can be sure that I would be there to testify against them in court.

Ride smarter, people!

The Art of the Seatcuster

2007-09-25T22:53:00.000-07:00

Here’s a neat bike:

This is a ca.1973 Mondia Super, I picked up cheap (really, I don’t make a habit of picking things up just because they’re cheap, but look at that paint!). Off came the tubulars, Off came the chintzy old breakamatic handlebars, Off came the ten-speed Nuovo Record. On went the fixed-gear rear wheel, On went the clinchers and handlebar, etc. And now I have a(nother) “saved” old bike to ride.

It seems heretical to put new components on frames like this, and anyway since it’s Swiss, or French, or some combination thereof, it probably wouldn’t be very rewarding anyway. The old Mafac brakes work fine (not good) as long as you keep adjusting them, and leave plenty of room for fenders, so now I don’t have to get my Pista all smutty when it’s wet out. You might say, “Well, how can you justify getting your nice old Mondia dirty when it rains?” If you saw the mudflaps I have on those fenders you might think that it really Doesn’t get too dirty... And besides, I don’t have any other bike that will take that little T.A. rack (it bolts right onto the brake). Come to think of it, that little rack is one of the biggest reasons I ride the bike at all; every time I look down I think, “Cool!”

Look at that wraparound cluster. Other Mondias I have seen are similar, yet this technique is more common on British frames. Defaced by the serial number; an odd utilitarianism within the framework of beauty.
Those lugs are known as Nervex (company) Professional (model) and are often found on the fanciest of older frames. They are French, I believe. Although this one is pretty fancy with that paint job and such, the finish is second-rate, with minimal filing at the lugs and a typically fragile paintjob. Pinstriping on the main tubes was done (evidently) by a master, being nice and straight and clean, but then the frame was handed off to a hamfisted apprentice, who blotched on the lining around lugs.

The bike rides great. We haven’t learned much about frame geometry for decades; I’ve measured this thing up for dimensions and angles (see the little “73” marked on the top tube?) and it’s not far away from the supposedly “modern” geometry of Le., or Tr., or Sp., or Gi., or any other Johnny-come-lately “sport bike”; they’re just copying what came before. (I didn’t include Bi. in that group because they are now 120 years old, and really are, arguably, largely responsible for influencing the Italian school of design).

1978 Bill Davidson
Burly. Italianate (esp. with the painted window). Graceful yet strong. Big fat stiff stay-ends with brazed caps, not plugs. Brazing those stays onto the sides of the cluster make for a wider space at the tire. Extremely clean, crisp edges.

197? Bruce Gordon
This lug shouts, “American!” Highly-reworked Cinelli lugs. Somewhat avant-garde, with the binder bolt hidden on the opposite side (see below). Insuperable form. There is a photo of (presumably) Mr. Gordon’s hands filing a lug in The Custom Bicycle, by Kolin and de la Rosa (Rodale, 1979), which shows what hands look like after a million hours of detail work on steel frames. The radii of these lug mouths are impeccable, near-perfect, thinned down and profiled to tiny points, dispersing the stress risers of the lug neatly into the tube. This photo doesn’t do justice to the frame.

You can get an idea of the number of miles on this frame by the wear marks in the cluster; it’s a testament to craftsmanship that it survives today. And a dramatic upward Swoop! on the backside of the lug adds a little support to the post and, again, helps disperse a stress riser where seatposts occasionally break off.

This old guy is currently serving as a fixed-gear cyclocrosser!

2000 Serotta
Optimized. Lug mouths and points not much larger than necessary. Stays that go not beyond the bolt. A lug profile which almost disappears into the line of the joint, just millimeters away.

1979 Austro-Daimler
Some makers use a plug at the end of the stay with their company name, or some other motif.

2003 Bianchi
Typical modern cluster, tig-welded of course. Strong, light, inexpensive.

1969(?) Bottecchia
Italian. Not top-of-the-line, but still the manufacturer cared enough about the product to chrome-plate the ENTIRE frame and detail the lugs in red. Note the little hiccup in the line of the descending radius-no filing done here, just brazed together and sent on to paint. The stay-ends are sliced open and the outer flap folded over and brazed down to form a closed end.

197? Peugeot
Nervex Pro lugs. Somebody hammered in the wrong size of seatpost and now no amount of twisting, torching, and penetrating oil can free it. A mechanic friend suggested soaking in Coca-cola; I’ll try that one day.

191? Iver Johnson
Early American bicycle. Compare the basic form of this to the Bruce Gordon and Serotta frames above. Usually called a “fastback” cluster.

198? Schwinn Sidewinder
Just for comparison; strong, cheap. I understand that’s actually a brazed joint, whereas the rest of the frame is welded. Ugh!

198? Univega
Modern spartanism with an attention to crispness, and artistic flair. Medium-long points with a filled cutout.

And this is kinda interesting. Nice, even dirt buildup around the break-that fissure has been working its way around for some time. The clean break around the belly of the downtube is pretty fresh, and the exciting new sensation from the pedals alerted the rider. If I got back on the bike and cranked around the building it would probably finish it off. Hmmm.

199? Cannondale 2.8
Here’s another seat cluster, this time in aluminum. The paint has been stripped and the frame sanded, wooled, and polished. Which is a lot of work and I don’t recommend it. But what a striking result! This bike reminds me of a character in a Terminator movie.

What Evil Lurks in Your Bike Shop?

2007-09-25T22:51:00.001-07:00

A guy was in the shop a few days ago, I don’t remember what brought him in, but he made his way fairly quickly to a discussion about religion, and asked me something in the nature of, “what evils lurk in your closet?” Now, there are certain normal and socially accepted topics of discussion between strangers and that is not one, but anyway I asked him what he meant by “evil.” Wrong answer. I got a strange lecture about Heaven and Hell and Jesus and this-and-that, but I eventually got him to leave in good terms.

Anyway, I wondered later, can I be correct in describing Cartesian Existentialism?, thus: “That which one senses (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, reason, memory, emotion) is real, and that what is real actually exists.”
Does this sort of thing happen in other small businesses?

June

2007-09-24T22:07:00.000-07:00

June 8
Why do I sell Bianchi? Because they make great bikes. Because they make every road bike a person is likely to need. Take a look at their catalog; racing bikes, sport bikes, touring bikes, three cyclocross bikes, two track bikes, steel, titanium, carbon fibre, aluminum, scandium, composites. Campagnolo or Shimano, Italian or Taiwanese, many models in nine sizes. We won’t be adding another brand in the near future.

To convert an old tubular wheel to clincher, first tape your new rim onto the old wheel and move the spokes over one at a time. Don’t tighten the nipples very much; just a few revolutions to hold them in place. When you’ve finished the hoop replacement, un-tape the old rim and set it aside. Look at the new wheel from the side; see where pairs of spokes cross each other one last time before continuing on to their respective nipples? That’s the third “cross,” and the only “lace” (on most wheels, when the spoke leaves the hub, it goes over two other spokes and under the third). Remove the nipples from those two spokes and put one full twist at that cross, then send the two spokes back to their original rim-holes. Do that all the way around. Now, instead of each spoke going over-over-under, it will go over-over-under-around-around. That full twist will take up the extra length of the spokes and will give you a super-cool, fairly stiff wheel. I have found this to work with fairly normal-profile clincher rims, such as a Mavic MA3, and have two such wheels in regular use with no problems. Some rims may perhaps require 1-1/2 turns. Good Luck.

June 12
An old 16-speed Merckx I’m working on needs a new chain, jockey wheels overhauls, the tape has come unraveled, broken spoke, dirty, etc., etc. Lots of miles since the last tune. The front derailleur cable has a tail which hangs out about an inch beyond the derailleur clamp, and ticks on the right crankarm when in the small chainring. The crimp on the end has actually worn a groove on the end of that crankarm!

June 16
There are so many ways a derailleur can be out of adjustment. Of course, the “adjustment” ways, like barrel adjusters and stop screws. But also adjustments like hanger straightness and chain wear, both of which are actually “repairs.”
Even on a new bike, even after it’s been adjusted, maybe even broken-in, cables will fall out of adjustment. You have a hundred little things that can go beyond adjustment and repair. What about dirt? Corrosion?

Paint inside a welded-on housing stop will crack and compress, maybe even chip and fall out. That’s going to effect cable tension, perhaps suddenly or in 1000 miles of use. But it will happen.

The cables running under the bottom bracket get dirty; bathe them in wax. It will clean, lubricate, and seal in one application/wipe. Dry Prep like a fly fisherman uses (wax dissolved in solvent) works pretty well, and there are commercial preparations available. Always use a little extra, and wipe off that extra carrying away the smut dissolved in it.

Make sure cable housings are cut and filed exactly flush, otherwise the pointed end will break up the housing end (expecially on plastic ones), maybe point a hole through it and effect the frame stop somehow. Also it could send the cable off-center, which results in too much friction.

When you clean a chain while it’s still on the bike, finish by polishing the outside of the chain. First, shift into your highest chainring. Using a dry, clean, rag, work directly on the outside plates of the chain as they lie on that largest chainring. You can get right up close, even push on the rag a l ittle, and get it really shiny. Oooh.

June 21
If you want to clean up quick after a bike ride and don’t have the time or facilities for a shower, use baby wipes. Stash a box in your desk at work, or carry a little ziplock bag in your pack or pannier. You can get practically an entire bath out of one disposable packet.

Today’s words to combine:
Pick a word from group 2 to modify a word in group 1:

1
Conservative
Liberal
Progressive

2
Ultra
Extreme
Moderate
Neo

Such as, “Neo Progressive.”
Or, “Moderate Conservative.”
Or, “Extreme Liberal.”

Remember, name calling is one of your basic fallacies. Ad Hominem, “To the man.”

I sure hope goodwill is brought to a neighborhood by a bike shop. It seems like a place for people to talk about their ambitions, their hopes and dreams, to use an old colloquy... We are all on our way somewhere; through parenthood, or vacation, or career, travel. And bicycles help us get through that in numerous ways; the cycling of seasons, day and night, miles and hours. These are the rhythms of life, which are embodied in the circular motion. Cycling.
I have an old rebuilt Kawamura/Nishiki with old tubulars on, friction 6-speed, etc. I’m a little afraid to ride it possibly because of the tubulars but also because the bottom bracket is hanging out on the right side about 5mm. And it’s got sorta trashed threads on the driveside, Alumininmin, cup. So I can probably count on it coming apart on the first or second ride. Sheesh.

June 25
It occurs to me: that if you do someone a favor, and exact payment by requiring that person to do a favor for someone else sometime, you could start a chain reaction that might go on for quite some time. You could change the world with just one small gesture. An object in motion will stay in motion unless acted on by an opposing force.

June 27
Some poser in an SUV told me this morning, "the sidewalk's right over there."
Duh. I pulled up to his open window and said, "the sidewalk's for pedestrians, get it straight."

I wanted to say more.

Meditations on Quality

2007-09-24T22:03:00.000-07:00

I was meditating this morning on the nature of quality. You might wonder, which “quality,” like of course there are different kinds of quality. The idea of quality sought by Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance comes to mind, however I want to talk about quality as it relates to bicycles. Directly, in fact, to the bicycle itself. What is quality? What makes a bicycle “quality?” Goodness, or lasting, or attractiveness?

Think in terms of efficiency: What is the most efficient way to construct a bike? That is what gives it Qualityy. How can a bike be made best? You have to define “best,” I guess.

Best can only be understood in terms of Worst. They don’t exist without each other, in fact, it is so obvious that we can all have immediate understanding of “Worst” just by thinking of something, anything, that we think is “worst.” Death, pain, etc.

So, getting back to bicycles, how do you build a bicycle which is best? Consider the options:

1. Simple quality. First, lets look at the cheapest stuff. That should be easy to find: you just look around, get a feel for prices and what they are and where, then gravitate toward the lowest numbers, regardless of any other considerations. That will give you a good benchmark. “Cheapest.” I don’t need to direct you there.

Then, find all the stuff that breaks of has broken, or wore out right away...that will give you an idea of “worst.” You may have to do some research on this. Talk to a bicycle shop, read reviews, ask friends, actually get your hands on some. Lets say, if you’re looking for new tires, talk to someone who has some tires. Take your brain along, because that person might have some hidden agenda, or really doesn’t know anything ABOUT tires, and you need to be able to sense that.

And cheapest is easy to find, you know, we all know where to get it. It’s the fixed. lowest common denominator. You pick it up in the alley. Or you buy it from a huge warehouse-like outlet, over the internet, etc.

But you can also make it yourself. You can repair things, for example. Now, there’s a connection between cheapest and worst, remember. So when you buy something cheapest that goes right on toward breaking, don’t waste your time using the wrong kind of glue to put it together because it’s made out of plastic!

It gets even more complex from there, of course, but you can see, we need to be looking for something else. How about staying with the cheap stuff, and just trying to find the “best” of it? Well, that sounds good. I think it is attributed to Keith Bontrager: “Cheap, Light, Strong; pick two.”

So, Cheap + Light ∫ Strong. That’s the plastic handlebar that broke when you jumped off the loading dock. Don’t Do It. Worst.

Cheap + Strong ∫ Light. That could be OK. At least you won’t have mechanical failures all the time, and the increased weight will keep your speed down. Here, though, you might start making tactical decisions, like, “I don’t want my spokes breaking all the time during my transcontinental bicycle tour.” So you get 48-spoke wheels. Or, “my kid needs a bike, and then he’s going to need another one in eighteen months, and then a bigger one eighteen months after that.” (So you just don’t ever get him a bike, loser) Really, what you do is you get used bikes, or trade-ins, or you can even get the cheapest one and have it improved. Best Cheap.

Light + Strong ∫ Cheap. Here you have to start talking politics: Why isn’t it possible for all of us to have the best? Because it’s not cheap. And that’s a sin in an industrial , capitalist society where wage-slavery forces a person to cheapness and society accepts it because it also allows a person to put on an air of owning a “lot”. Never mind, either, that what you get is just more, deeper shit. Where cheapness is glorified (Clearance Sales, Walmart), camoflaged (Marketing), mass-produced (China). You are brainwashed into being cheap because it’s an easy way to fit in, never mind that you just build a world of garbage for yourself. But I diverge; let me refer you to Noam Chomsky, or Adam Smith, or Karl Marx for more on that...

2. Complex Quality. How you combine simple qualities to construct “best” is what defines complex quality. And the complexity increases disproportionately to the complexity of the system, due to combinatoriality. Let’s look at individual qualities, and just call them 1, 2, 3, and 4. Cominatoriality states that the more elements you add to a group, the more ways there are to combine that number. This includes permutations, thus:
1 2 3 4
1 3 2 4
1 4 2 3
2 3 4 1
etc.

you can see, there are more combinations than numbers. And let’s not forget the way the individual qualities AFFECT each other, thus:
1x2=2
2x3x4=24
4x4=16
etc.

But how does this effect bicyles?
You have a huge number of ways to build a bicycle, due to sizes, measurements, component availability, technology and materials. and you combine all these things to make a bicycle efficient for its intended use.

INTENDED USE
It’s easy to build a bicycle; they have existed for a couple of centuries (at least). You find two round things, and attach them together and roll around on the resultant contraption. Simple. And good for what? Nothing. 1x1=1, 1+1=2. Big deal.
So, you have to add steering. Now you can control it, actually lift your feet up off the ground and coast. Wow, amazing. How does that do that? 1x3=3, 1+3=4, 2+3=5, 2x3=6, 2x3+1=7, 2x2x2=8, etc.

It’s one of those things that seems obvious, once you’ve done it. I suppose someone in Moses’ time, or some monk in medieval Italy might have thought it up, but technology was pretty limited then, and really what is two wagon wheels and some logs, leather thongs, etc. goo for? Still nothing, honey, we need to keep the wagon; we just can’t afford to keep up with Baron von Drais up the hill. Maybe that would be a sports car to them back then, but you know most peasants couldn’t afford a sports car, industry wasn’t geared up for cheap production, and even if it were, you were too busy busting your hump for the king, or the church, or the nut in the manor house. (eventually these nuts learned how to produce cheap stuff, and then sell it to the people at a profit, effectively keeping them in wage slavery, but there again, see the Op Eds, or Mark Twain, or Black Panthers, or something, for more on that...).

Now, (at least for a hundred years or so) we have technology, and that makes the bicycle possible. Steel builds light, durable wheels (even more so thanks to Dunlop) which going back to that time marks the end of bicycle’s stone age and the beginning of the actual sport, and alternate materials development (aluminum, plastics, composites) has moved forward constantly since then.

Those are the elements we have to work with: Rolling, steering, technology. And Zoom!
In respect to the amazing efficiency of the machine, it is actually easy to build a Strong, Cheap, Light bicycle even today. We call it a fixed gear. It’s the one huge step beyond simple quality to complex quality which can be grasped by everyone. Purists even today, in 2004, say that it’s the best sort of bicycle, possibly the one sort of bicycle if you only had one bike and it were the end of the world and you could have any bike you wanted but you weren’t ever going to have another.

That sound kind of extreme, but think about it. How many parts does it have? Wheels (2), frame, fork, drivetrain, and technology. That’s 6 elements, AT LEAST.
So, you have an old bike you got at Goodwill, and you strip all the junk off of it, air up the tires, tighten everything down and you can ride that thing forever. It won’t ever be permananently disabled unless you crash hard. You have to do repairs, and maintenance and stuff, but it’s cheap, right? And (pretty) Strong and (reasonably) Light.

So your cheapness scores on all accounts, and-voila-you’re a cyclist!
It’s quite easy to get beyond that, though. If you want the thing to handle well, you look for one the right size; it will go faster, too, and is less likely to trash you body and give you the hoopdies. You know what a hoopdy bike is, right? An old ten speed kid’s bike with handlebars turned up and the seat as low as it gets. These are simple efficiency issues, not rocket science (yet).

The rocket science starts when technology takes us beyond that cheapness level, and yes that means it’s going to be more expensive (you might normally just buy cheap, but if you also buy LESS, you might eventually be able to afford BETTER. Strange how that works).

Important Reminders

2007-09-24T21:57:00.000-07:00

Important reminders:

“History teaches that war begins when governments believe the price of aggression is cheap.”
- Ronald Reagan

“Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the clouds of war, it is humanity hanging on a cross of iron.”
- Dwight Eisenhower

“Naturally, the common people don’t want war...but after all it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatoráship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country.”
- Herman Goering

“To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that we are to stand by the president right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public.”
- Theodore Roosevelt

“War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength.”
- Big Brother (from George Orwell’s 1984)

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
- Constitution of the United States, First Amendment

“They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
- Benjamin Franklin

“During almost fifteen centuries has the legal establishment of Christianity been on trial? What have been its fruits? More or less in all places, pride and indolence in the clergy, ignorance and servility in the laity, in both, superstition, bigotry and persecution.”
- James Madison (“Father of the Constitution”)

“Blessed are the peacemakers...”
- Jesus

“Do not let the fact that things are not made for you, that conditions are not as they should be, stop you. Go on anyway. Everything depends on those who go on anyway.”
- Robert Henri

First Test

2007-09-20T15:50:00.000-07:00

This is an attempt to start the Paul's Cyclery Shopnotes...

ShopNotes

Join Bicycle Colorado

Amazing Story

The Big Move

Bicycle Tour of Colorado 2011

We are Open!

MOVING THE SHOP!

Thou Dost Promote Too Much, Methinks

Campagnolo Delta Brake

The Fatal Flaw

Little Things

Oh, So Close

Untitled

Another Busted One

And Worth It, Too

The Carnage Continues

Words To The Wise

Worn Crankarm

The Fastlane

STAR CSP

Busted Nut

Iver Johnson BB

Disclaimer

The Strange Life

Clothing List by Temperature

Ode

Another Crazy

Suicide Bike

Smooth rolling

Bicycle Tour of Colorado

Bike to Work Day 2009

Great Things Gone Away

F**king cyclists

Ride More

O The Horror

Shimmy Shake Rattle and Roll

Stealth Bike...NOT!

His New Fetish

Neat Stuff

Mostly True Tales from the Trenches

Observations of Frenchness

More of the same

Things that might happen

More busted stuff

Seat Lugs

Compare and Contrast

More bad luck

Neat front wheel

Virtual People

Stereotypes

A Reflection on the Future

Five Hundred Rides

In Flanders Fields

Another old bike

Perfection

More seat clusters

My favorite bike

Buddhist joke

More carnage

Busted frame

Bent frame

Right of way

Who to watch out for.

More Night Ride Stories

buying Chinese

Shooting the Gappers

The Art of the Seatcuster

What Evil Lurks in Your Bike Shop?

June

Meditations on Quality

Important Reminders

First Test