The Look Back And The Shadow Game

It's a good day to blog.  Rainy and cold out today.  I was expecting to take a ride, had my Miyata in launch mode, then it started raining.  However, I did get in a good ride yesterday, so not all is lost this weekend.  This is a ride story about an aspect of cycling that doesn't get much discussion, and that is, how we, I, in this case, interact with other cyclists out on the road.  There are infinite flavors of the ride, some are spicier than others, this is one of those.

I awoke yesterday feeling groggy, having slept in an hour.  I had planned to take a morning ride, but was not in any hurry about it, I already missed the "Go" window for the Team Alameda group ride, so I had a leisurely morning.  As I sipped my blend of French and Mocha Java drip, I looked out the front window at the swirling wind.  It was drying out nicely, but now it was blustery.  Not easy to get up for that, but eventually I did get out of the house and on the bike at around 11am.  It felt like an accomplishment just doing that.  I had no goal other than to get in some miles.

On autopilot, I found myself on route to Montclair, via 14th and Park Blvd.  As I climbed the 16th Ave overpass, which is short and steep, there was a gusty headwind further slowing my progress.  I felt like my leg muscles had turned to sandbags, heavy and non-responsive.  Some days are like that, and when it happens I just press on because it usually gets better for the second half of the ride.  So I made Montclair Peet's my goal, to reward myself with a hot java.  Sure, this is a modest goal, it's only 6.5 miles away, but this is winter, it was windy, short daylight hours increase one's melatonin, (the sleep hormone), and besides, just getting out was the point.  I reminded myself that when I first took up cycling again in 2003, it was a big deal for me to get to Montclair.

I had a good ride up Park Blvd, it actually seemed easy, and when I got to Peet's I had the thought that I didn't need to stop, that I should just go on, but, nah, I was here so why not?  I got my cup of joe and sat out front looking at the Miyata.  I had made some changes on it since I last rode it.  When I got the new wheels for the Lemond, the old Rolfs went on the Miyata.  They are  nice wheels, fairly light, roll smoothly, and absorb road buzz nicely.  Road feedback is sweet with a Zaffiro Pro on the back and a Pro Race 3 on the front.  I had also put a second wrap of bar tape over the first for extra thick padding.  I was liking this extra cush.  I reflected that these trickle down mods had made the bike kind of resonate, that it had not resonated before.  Nice!

Making my way to Tunnel Road, I realized that standing up on this bike feels very natural but mostly I was staying seated for climbing.  After Lake Temescal, I was pedaling up Upper Broadway, wishing for one lower gear, and I caught a woman on a purple Bianchi, and so I made a remark about how purple bikes ROCK!!  (the Miyata is purple)  and she got a good laugh.  I try to be friendly to other cyclists, especially the ones I pass, I say hello or comment on the bike or their bike.  About this time I looked in my mirror and noticed someone coming up the hill behind me.

I analyse people coming up behind me, I try to estimate when they will pass me, and when they do, I do a quick check of what they are wearing, then what they are riding, and I draw a conclusion.  Sometimes if it is a small group, I will drop in to catch the pace for a while.  Sometimes it is just obvious there is no way I am going to hang with a guy, some of them are obvious racers.  If they say hello I am generally fine with that and hey, have a nice ride!  Then again, sometimes I get passed and my conclusion was that the pass was dismissive.  That I was summed up and found lacking, so get out of my way.  Maybe it's the mirror, or the vintage bike, or my thrown together kit, or my gray hair, whatever.  The dismissive pass feels insulting and I don't really like it when that happens.  I should just let it go, and sometimes I do, like who gives a fuck? but sometimes I don't.  That's when I play The Shadow Game.  It's a chess match I play with my body as well as my brain.  And, like chess, I often lose.  But when I win, ahh, it's a moment to savor.

The rider behind me didn't catch me as soon as I expected, it was after climbing the short pitch after the Monument to Disaster at the foot of Tunnel that he passed me, without so much as a glance or utterance.  He looked like he was around 30 of age.  I looked at his kit, he looked kind of Rapha-like, a hard to describe generic upper tier kit look that seems a bit pretentious.  His bike was something silvery, maybe titanium, I didn't see it clearly.  He had short hair a short beard that looked obsessively trimmed.  As he rode ahead of me about 20 feet, he was constantly tweaking is head to the left, as if he had a small rock in his left ear and was trying to shake it out.  Strange.  I mean he must have jerked his head left 20 times in a half mile.   He looked a bit like a stuffed sausage in his too tightly fitting kit.   All this put together really grated on my basal ganglia.

I decided to shadow him.  Shadowing is quite different than dropping in on his wheel.  That would be gauche, too aggressive, I used to do that in my less wise days.  When I shadow I stay back about 50', close enough to observe my opponent, but far enough back to give them a sense of staying away.  Shadowing someone changes their game from offensive to defensive as they become all too aware of being followed and not being able to drop the follower, and a cascading sequence of mind games ensues.  Unless they just smirk, speed up and drop me and it becomes a very short game.

I was riding along comfortably as we approached the left hand turn after the house with the palm trees.  As he rounded the corner he looked back to see where I was.  He Looked Back....Game On!  The Look Back in my book is Game On for the simple reason that a guy will not look back if he doesn't care a whit about you, but if he does then he is In The Game.  I use a mirror, so I never have to twist my head to look back, another advantage of this small very useful tool.  I look back All The Time.  But in a passive way you see.

His pace then quickened a bit but not enough to alarm me, and I sorted out a strategy.  My opponent was easily 20 lbs heavier than me, so I assumed when the road pitched up at the 2 mile mark, he would slow down.  This is a strategy that has worked for me time and again, so why not this time?   Around the bends we went, and we got to the steeper part.  He stood up and attacked the hill and got a bit away, but I wanted to keep my heart rate at around 140-150 so I sat down for the most part, and when I rounded the steep left hand corner after the tractor, there he was not that far ahead.  The plan was working.  I could tell he was feeling dogged and that pleased me.  My world had narrowed to my vision of the rider ahead of me, my legs pulling me up the grade, all cylinders were firing in harmony now, my world was heavy breathing and feet spinning in circles.

On we rode, and I was slowly reeling him in.  I was aware I was gulping lungfuls of air, getting a max workout for sure, but I could dig deeper if I needed to, but hoped I wouldn't have to.  I try not to push it that last 15% if I can avoid it.  By this point we were nearing the Baker Millennium House and I was but 10 feet behind and contemplating a pass further up ahead near the top, when the unexpected happened.

He pulled off the road and feigned a bike adjustment!  He "tapped out" rather than be passed.  I was just beginning to accept that strange turn,  when, in my mirror, I saw him mount up and start going again.  This was a first in my book, and in my mind it totally justified my opinion of the guy, that he was a good rider, but also a poser that could not take getting passed by a silver haired guy on an vintage bike wearing leg warmers on the outside of his shorts and a red Fred jacket.  As I summitted the hill I felt good, the other guy was no where in sight.   I had started off the day feeling dead but got to the top of the hill feeling stoked and very much alive.  It had all just unfolded by chance.  I knew this was prime blog fodder.

I  believe we men are genetically hard wired to be hunters and warriors, to be competitive for food and mates, the instinct to do battle is within each of us, no matter how cultured or civilized we appear to be or think of ourselves.  This instinct usually lies dormant but can be unleashed surprisingly easy.  Should I be old enough to know better?  Yes, I should, but on the other hand, I prefer to live fully when I can, and tapping into my reptilian brain is a great way to get there.

Get On Your Bikes And Ride!

Flash

Drillium and Other Non-Weighty Matters

Continuing my series of informative parts talks, I now steer you towards the arcane art of lightening your bike parts by reducing their weight.  Essentially replacing mass with air.  The art became known as Drillium---a derivation of drill, as in electric drill, and the added suffix of an element, "ium".  Think Unobtanium, that rarest of denizens of the Periodic Table.  The difference is that Drillium is quite attainable, all one needs is a tool, a design, careful measurement, a steady hand, and a willingness to risk one's health by weakening key bike parts that are originally robust for a good reason.

Back in the day, metallurgy was for the most part fixed in steel frames and aluminum parts.  Titanium was very rare indeed, and carbon fiber, if even invented, was the stuff of military secrets and certainly not available to the world of velomen and women.  A typical good road bike of the time weighed about 25 lbs, and very expensive bikes were down around 21lbs.  An modern entry level bike these days is under that weight.  To get a very light bike back then the weight weenies had to turn to their drills.  Every time a drill bit bites into metal, metal is lost in shavings.  Remove enough shavings and grams, then ounces disappear, then even pounds.  But what is added, in my mind, is art.  A certain delicacy, a jewel-like quality is added that didn't exist before the drilling.  I just love the way it looks.  I'm fascinated by the obsession the craftsman pours into his holy parts.  Books have been written about it.

Book cover " As Light As Air" by John Derven

And check out this photo of Drillium in progress

I wouldn't want this to break off between my legs!

As technology has improved and new materials (alu alloys, titanium, and carbon fiber) utilized for both bikes and parts, things have gotten very light without the need for drilling.  So the art of Drillium becomes a thing of the past.  Or has it?

I sometimes find myself walking the back alleys of Ebay bike shops, and I found something there I just HAD to have.  Drillium headset spacers!  Produced by KCNC of Taiwan, here is a page to some of their other lightweight/blingy/ ultra cool items.

Ok, maybe not drilled out, but machined out, but still, hollow spaces filled with air describes Drillium to me.  So I ordered a set of these as a homage to the lost art.  They will make not a whit of difference in my bike's performance or weight, but rather they represent for me a bygone era, and they are just so cool!  I could have gotten carbon fiber spacers in red, but in my opinion they can't hold a candle to these 6061 alloy masterpieces.  Drillium exists as a commodity to us ordinary consumers.  How could I NOT get these?

Actual  scan of my new spacers.  Can't tell from this angle, but they are various heights: 15/10/5/2 mm sections.  They are wider overall than the OEM spacers, they have to be when you think about it, but this extra width imparts a very cool feature:  once installed, the hollow channels can be seen above and below the stem.  

 Kind of reminds me of this, don't you think?

This view shows the visually exposed channels

It all stacks up in the end

So my new hollowed out spacers are installed and I feel like I am taking a part of the Old World Velo out with me on every ride.  And as with all Drillium parts, I just hope to God they don't break.

Get On Your Bike and Ride!

Flash

Flashblog Seasonal Upgrades

Greetings, and, as always, welcome to Flashblog,

I'm your host, Flash, sifting through the detritus of modern culture for molecules of joy, seasonal and otherwise, as it relates to my almost obsessive interest in bicycles and bicycle riding.  In this edition, I get to report some very good news.  I've acquired even more bike parts since the last installment!  Here's an intriguing fact:  all these parts are brand new, the result of throwing cash around locally, and all over the internet.  Flash is doing great things for the economy!  And supporting the Euro as well, I'm proud to say.

"So just what are these parts?" you are probably asking yourself and I was hoping you would ask that.
The first thing is a new bottom bracket for my Lemond road bike.  Yes, it is at the bottom of the bike, but no, it is not a bracket at all.  What it is is a hollow splined axle with ball bearings inside a sealed metal tube.  I know, that's pretty fascinating.  I could let the warmth and tingleyness stop there, but I'll go on.  You see, the bottom bracket, in this case a type called ISIS, is an important thing in that it connects the gear thingys to the pedal thingys, and lets them go round and round smoothly.  If it fails, the "smoothly" part goes away and it literally becomes a drrraaaaaaaaag.

Here's what it looks like,but you don't see it because it is hidden inside the bike frame

Anyway, my previous BB got a little bent somehow, so the gear thingys (chainrings)  were pulsing side to side a bit, rubbing on the derailleur.  And dragging at the same time.  Bummer.  So I dropped some cash at the LBS (local bike shop) and let them order the part and install it.  Costs more this way, but its time I gave them some business as they've been very good to me.  ISIS, by the way, was an interim technology to combat the market supremacy Shimano appeared to be gaining when they "dropped" their proprietary Octalink splined system.  ISIS was formed by a consortium of competing parts concerns to combat Octalink, so they basically copied the Octalink but put on 10 splines instead of 8.  Time would show that the ISIS system, while stiff laterally, has a bearing design that wears out faster because it is forced to use more, but smaller ball bearings, thus more bearing surface area compared to a system of larger balls.

Thus, The Market then "rolled out" the external bearing system which put larger bearings on the outside of the bike, fixing the inherent shortcomings of the splined systems.  The external system is not so good for sealing out water and dirt, but it is stiff due to its larger axle shaft.  The hollow axle is integrated into the crankset, a light and efficient setup.  

This is what the external bottom bracket looks like, bearings on the outside. 

Even newer is the BB30 system, invented by Cannondale but now also on many  high end bikes.

Note the large bearing races sit inside an oversized frame tube shell.  Lighter, stiffer, most efficient.  The BB30 system results in frame swelling in its nether regions to accommodate the large bearings.

I know what you are thinking:  "Flash, why didn't you just upgrade to an external bearing system?"  Because I didn't want to also have to buy a new crankset to fit it.  My current crank features my time tested 52/39/28 gears that can not be had in a modern triple, which is commonly 50/39/30.  Beside, that would have been a $400 upgrade, just to modernize a bearing system.  I decided to put that cash into a different area, so I just replaced the ISIS unit and I'm back in biz for a good long time. 

So where did I put the cash?    Here:

Giant P SL1 Road Wheelset 

Designed for performance road riding, aimed at enthusiasts and beginner racers seeking a stiff, durable wheelsystem.

• 6061 Rim · Forged 6000-series hubs
• DT Aero bladed Stainless steel spokes, 18 front, 24 rear
• Single handed wheel release
• DT Swiss sealed hub bearings
• 21mm wide rim
• Weight 1775g per pair

The 2012 Defy Composite 1 with the P-SL1 wheels

I went on a wheel research bender, and got quite overwhelmed.  Brands such as Easton, American Classic, Shimano, Most, Neuvation, Velocity, Rolf, Rol, and a myriad of boutique wheelsmiths all claim to make the best wheel at the best price.  At first, I was thinking about a very light climbing wheel like the Easton 90, which comes in at under 1500g per set.  Or Rol Alp Duez at 1490g.  Then I started reading reviews over at Roadbikerider.com and it became clear that the lighter the wheel, the greater risk of breaking spokes or of wheel flexing.  Not to mention the cost skyrockets commensurately. The Rolf Vectors I have been using the last few years weigh in at around 2000g, so these Giants save about 200 grams, or about half a pound.  I found them on Ebay, at a great price, so threw down for them.  They feature a wider rim than usual, 21mm vs the 19mm normally found on road rims.  However, the Rolfs measure a spindly 17.9mm wide, so the new rims are something like 15% wider.  When mounting 23mm tires on the 21mm rims, the resulting tire cross section profile looks less like a lightbulb and more like an airfoil.  So this is reported to result in better cornering and road feel, almost tubular-like.  

What I can report is that when I spin the new wheels, they are completely silent, so utterly smooth that if I closed my eyes I could not tell if they were spinning.  This is new to my experience, believe it or not, I've never had spanking new wheels on a bike.  This is going to be a treat!

Road report:  SWEET!  I definitely feel a small but better difference going uphill.  It feels easier going up.  Descending feels about the same as before.  Cornering is better, and overall ride feel is zingy-er without being harsh at all.  Drawback:  changing a tire on the road is HARD.  Not sure if this is due to the Lithium tires mentioned below or the wider aspect of the rims.  I've now included liquid soap in my saddle bag to make the next road repair easier.  I kid you not!

Lastly, I contacted my people across the Pond, and they sent me over some Michelin Lithium 2 tyres.  I really like the Lithium as it rides like a ProRace, but has better puncture resistance,and is the most cost effective tyre in the line, I got a pair for $42 American. 

In progress shots.  

The wheels with tires on looks how I want them to look, understated yet with a high tech, no-nonsense appearance.  The black, gray and white colors fit the bike's overall scheme quite well.  The wheels appear as climbing wheels should look, light and purposeful, none of this aero, oversized, super deep dished carbon  excess so prevalent in bike marketing today.  Here' a fine example of blingtastic wheels:

Ugg. I hate this look on a bike.  It reminds me of this:

I just improved my machine quite a bit.  It runs like a Swiss watch and goes just a little bit better than before.  Riding should be about the fun, and it is fun that I'm having right now.  Oh yeah.  

Lastly, my New Year's resolution is to add a second ride name to my personal roster.  This name is inspired by the recent news of a long covered up family story that due to a philandering enjoyed by my grandmother  I may in fact be 1/4 Italian!

Ride On My Friends

Ciacomo Gordoni

My Day/Night/Wet/Dry/On Road/Off Road Urban Assault Bike Build

I've been wrenching on my bikes again.  It's a fun hobby.  I put them together, then take them apart and put them back together differently.  This is the beauty of bikes.  They are accessible.  Simple.  Easy to work on.  And the variations are endless.  Here's my latest and how it came to be.

Plz clic pics

I've increased my commuting by bike to work up at Chabot Space and Science Center.  I was using my Lemond road bike, which is by far the fastest and easiest way to get up the hill.  But the Lemond is relatively fragile, especially the tires, which have suffered on the mean streets of Oakland.  I also want to keep it clean as I have bad memories of riding it 200 kilometers in the rain and the major work I had to do on it after that.  I've also ridden my fast commuter, the Miyata, to work, and while almost as fast, it's a harder grind because the gears are too high, and again, the tires take a beating.  The streets of urban Oakland are in bad shape and I find myself constantly dodging potholes, cracks and seams that could not only wreck a wheel, but cause me to crash.

A few years ago, while in the midst of a steep hill climbing phase, I modified my Specialized Rockhopper mountain bike with smaller, fast rolling tires, and rode it up some of the steepest streets in all of the Bay Area.  Marin Ave. in Berkeley, for example.  Very, very steep, up to 25% grade, or more.  While the ultra low gears of this bike served me well in this endevour, the overall heavier weight of the bike made it hard for me to keep up with my riding buddies on road bikes.  After a 40 mile hill ride on the Rockhopper, I was beat like an abalone.  So I wrenched it back into a dirt bike and it was a favorite ride of my exchange student, Lorenz from Germany.  So favorite in fact, that upon returning to Deutchland, he bought an even better mountain bike.  In fact, the last time I had an off road adventure, this story developed from it.

I encountered this bike 2 years ago and was inspired by the audacity of the thing

The Rockhopper has been hanging on the wall, awaiting a new purpose.  I didn't do any dirt rides on it this year.  So one evening, my inspiration fueled by Charles Shaw merlot, I decided to resurrect the road version of the Rockhopper.  It was just what I envisioned:  A ruggedized bike frame with bomb-proof wheels, wider but still fast rolling puncture resistant tires, front shock absorbers, powerful U-brakes, and low gears for getting up the 7 mile hill to work.  And I would need fenders for wet roads.  And lights for when it gets dark at 5pm.  And reflectors.  Lots of reflectors.  I got to work.

For tires I use some generic kevlar belted city tires from Performance, the City-K, size 26x1.25.  They look like baby tires compared to the knobbies they replace.  But the small diameter also serves a secondary importance: they provide fender clearance.  For fenders, I stole some 1975 vintage rusted steel parts of my junk project bike I call "entropy".  I never ride it anymore, and it is just sitting outside rusting away.  But I've always admired the rust on top of the old chrome fenders, and their sturdy construction.  The Rockhopper was never designed for touring type fenders so I had to get creative with the mounting, relying on zip ties, bolts, and even Gorilla glue.

Front fender detail:  metal fender tab affixed with 2 zip ties to the fork bridge, and Gorilla glued to prevent sideways slippage

Rear detail:  the bike's left stay has a rear eyelet to bolt to, but none on the right side, so I used a piece of bent wire and a loop of cut innertube to create a flexible but tight connection.

The fenders are bent to a 27" arc, so they are a tad large in diameter, thus the generous tire clearance fore and aft.  I cut a rubber mud flap for the front and bolted that on.  One of these will greatly deflect road spray off your feet.

Here you can get an idea of how well the reflector tape works, even better in the dark under car headlights

Next, I installed my largest saddle bag, and put into it my Park Survival Tool, a spare tube, and other tools.  For night riding, a rear LED tailight, a front LED headlight, and the Bikeglow e-light wire for the frame, taken of the Kaptein Dutch Bike.  I also made a vestigial mount for my Nebo Redline 220 lumen flashlight which will light the pitch black road of Skyline Blvd. at night.  I also will run a 2 LED flashing red light on my helmet.

Bikeglow battery pack and Topeak pump. Note front mud flap

Lastly came a set of ultra bright yellow stick on reflectors by Nathan, available at Alameda Bicycle.  I put these on the bike and on my commuter helmet.  They glow intense yellow when lit by a bright light, just what I want.  I also applied a large yellow reflector triangle on my backpack for the ultimate light throwback.
Night riding is the most dangerous time for bike riding, I want to be seen a half mile away, I think I've achieved that.  The road going weight with everything except a water bottle is 33 lbs.  That may sound heavy as many of us ride road bikes almost half that weight, but it doesn't feel that heavy.  50 lbs feels heavy.  33 lbs feels normal.

I rode this bike to work yesterday, and while not as fast as the road bikes, it is not slow either, it's moderate, which is fast enough for commuting uphill.  It takes me 10 minutes longer to ride up the hill.   Downhill however, is a blast, as this bike runs like a small motorcycle, has front shock absorbers, and powerful brakes.  This is my favorite downhill bike, even better than the Lemond, which is a sterling downhiller.  The upright position is much more fun when going fast as I can see more not being hunched over.

A funny thing happened on that ride yesterday:  as I was climbing Skyline, I got the sudden urge to go offroad.  I considered the smooth tread tires but also considered that this is a mountain bike after all, so why not try it?  I turned off the pavement at the Sequoia-Bayview trail, which is flattish and hardpacked, and instantly my ride was transformed into something almost religious as the cathedral of trees towered over me. "This is my commute to work!  How lucky am I?"  I mused.  I knew the trail eventually got steep at the Sequoia horse arena, and I was prepared to walk, but to my amazement, I was able to ride up the soft slope in my lowest gear.  Using street tires.  A revelation!  So after work I hopped right onto West ridge trail to Graham trail, and enjoyed about a mile of dirt downhilling. More slowly than usual, to be sure, but still, I was doing it and the bike was handling fine, and I was loving it.  The fenders did not fall off.  Here was icing on the cake in terms of my one-bike-does-all build!

This bike is making me really happy for some reason.  It's a great 20 mile ride machine, and can handle anything in that 20 miles short of challenging dirt riding.  I feel more confident on it, that I don't have to worry about breaking it, that I can roll over holes and other crap and it will just suck it up in stride.   And even if I wanted, I could not buy this bike.  There are many variations on urban bikes out there, but none exactly, or even close, to this.  It's safe to say it's unique.

Build it and Ride It My Friends,

Flash

The Stove Whisperer

Greetings and welcome to Flashblog!  I'm your host, Flash, and tonight I have a very special presentation for you, my first guest Flashblog, written by my good friend and hearty cyclist John "Sweeps" McNulty.  Not having time lately to write a fresh blog update myself, it is my good fortune that Sweeps invited me and Flashette to his house recently for dinner.  What transpired there that evening was nothing less than a desperate man quickly losing his sanity,  driven semi-insane by an infernal stove noise, but pulled back from the brink of the precipice by a Flashly insight born of squeaky chains, clicking deraillers, screeching seatposts, and howling brakes.  And don't forget my daily work up as Chabot Space and Science Center, where I hone my fixology skills on a daily basis.   Ok, it was a lucky guess, but Sweeps makes it seem oh so much more than that.

So grab a glass of wine, put on some light jazz, and read Sweep's intriguing adventure down the rabbit hole of (old) technology.

Ride On,

Flash

My Pre-Flash 15 Mins of Fame---1987

Before my evolution into Flash, way back in my 2nd Cycling Incarnation, I was known simply as Jim Gordon.  There were few road riders back then as mountain biking was taking off like a rocket and what riders there were abandoned the pavement for the dirt.  There was no blogging for there was no internet or computers, at least for civilians.  I remember the fun of the hand drawn sketches of bike parts in the Nashbar catalogs back then.  I was getting into distance riding, and did a few centuries, none of them easy or comfortable.  I even did a hard climbing century in the heat with a full aero fairing on the front of my bike.  I only tried that once.

One of my friends convinced me to try racing, so I signed on as a Cat 4, at that time the entry level position for wannabe racers.  I did some local Oakland criteriums, and a few short road races---I never placed in the top 10, but then again I never crashed or dropped out either so that's something.  I did witness some horrible race crashes and I think that informed me more than the actual racing.  The following story occurred during these times.  One day I found my phone ringing off the hook by local sports media people, and I had no clue why.  Here's what went down as reporters and photographers descended on Alameda:

(Click to enlarge scan)

I found my old racing license recently, then this old article showed up in a drawer at my parent's house.  I've been looking for a copy I had, and had given up finding it, then it just appears.  A Flashblog story meant to be.

Note authentic period details in the photo:

Note in the article I referred to myself at age 32 as an old guy.  I wonder what that makes me today?  I also stated I was riding 150 miles a week which might have been an embellishment of the truth, but to be honest I can't recall actual mileage from back then.  By the way, I still own that bike, a Novara 12 speed made in Japan.  It currently lives in Tacoma Washington, slightly modified with flat bars into a commuter bike for my son Max.  I still have all the original parts so someday I will restore it.

I hope you've been amused by this rare artifact of a by-gone era.  All I can say is I'm very happy to still be out there turning the pedals a quarter century later.  Such is the beauty of cycling.

Ride On My Friends

Flash

How To: Dutch Style Flat Repair

So...it finally happened.  I was riding the Kaptein one warm Indian summer evening recently when I noticed the rear end was getting noticeably squishy.  Really?  My tire was going flat?  How was that possible?  As I've recounted in earlier posts the last time I had the rear wheel off, one year ago, is when I installed  new Continental Cityride puncture resistant tires, along with plastic rim strips to ensure I would not flat unless I rolled over a land mine.  There were no land mines this day, in fact, nothing out of the ordinary that I had rolled over.  I felt disappointed, yet curious as to why my system failed.

Flashette was with me, but she had to go home to work straightaway and could not return with the car to pick me up.  I was off at the far end of the island, in fact, in front of the USS Hornet aircraft carrier museum.  I checked my bags for my repair kit...and it was not there.  I had taken it out before my last grocery run.  The pump was not present either.  I sat there in the warm orange rays of the setting sun pondering my mistakes. My biggest mistake was assuming I would never get a flat on this bike.  Just...Flashtastic.

I could have slowly walked the 3 miles home, but my sister was in town, with her SUV, so I called her for a ride.  Luckily, with the rear seats down we could stuff the whole 50+ lb machine in in one piece.  Things worked out for me to avoid that long, slow walk, but in more normal circumstances I would have been in a jam of my own recipe, as it were.

Fast forward to repair time.  As I've said, taking the rear wheel off these bikes is a bitch  headache pain in the ass challenge.  I suppose if you work in a Dutch bike shop and do this every day it is easier and faster.  It takes me about an hour to remove the wheel and re-install it.  Here's the breakdown:

1. remove screws securing upper and lower halves of chaincase.  Using screwdriver, pry the two halves    apart along the horizontal middle seam, pull halves away from chain.
2. remove 3 speed shifting chain from rear hub
3. remove rear brake cable from drum brake
4. remove rear drum brake positioning arm from frame mount
5. remove axle nuts
6. remove axle positioning stay nuts
7. remove chain from rear cog
8. shove rear wheel forward until stay bolts clear the frame
9. jerk wheel from frame.

That's the quick and easy part.  Then I fix the tire.  Getting it all back together in the proper order takes 3 times as long and the dexterity of 3 frisky cats put together.

However, I heard about an alternative rear flat repair method that does not require removal of the wheel.  In a nutshell, the tube is repaired within the frame.  This can actually be done on any bike.

Notice that Bike Bro here shows you how to remove the tube on the FRONT tire.  Even Bike Bro fears the rear wheel demonstration--- let alone the actual fix.

First, start by getting the last bit of air out of the tube.  Starting at the bottom of the wheel, use your tire levers to lift the tire bead from the rim.  Its easy on this bike as the tires are large and not tight as on a road bike.  Begin to work your way around the rim, turning the wheel as you go.  Soon, one side of the tire is lifted off the wheel.  Pull out the tube.  Note that you cannot remove the tube, it is locked in by the frame and wheel axle.

Here's the tricky part---you have to find the puncture.  Put some air in the tube, taking care not to overinflate it or have it push against any sharp parts on the bike.  You should then hear the hisssss of air escaping somewhere.  Use your stereo hearing skills or finger to locate the escaping air.  Mark the spot using a black Sharpie pen.  Make you marks horizontal and vertical, at least 3 inches long, the hole in the middle of a large "X" mark.
Next, sand the tube with the sandpaper that came with your patch kit.  The "X" will be mostly removed, but enough will remain to see the hole.  Put a good pea sized blob of glue in the middle of the X, and smear it around in a circle with your finger.  The glue circle should be slightly larger than the diameter of your patch.
Let the glue dry for 3 or 4 minutes.  The instructions state 5 minutes, but I feel that dries the glue a bit too much.  After 4 minutes, separate a patch from its backing, and taking care not to actually touch the rubber part (handle it with its plastic wrap cover) place it centered over the X.  Take the blunt end of your Sharpie and burnish (rub vigorously) all over the patch. Don't peel the clear plastic wrap off the patch.

At some point be sure to carefully inspect the tire, outside and inside.  You want to find whatever punctured the tube and remove it.  Sometimes you can't see anything, but if you run your finger on the inside of the tire you feel glass or a strand of wire poking through.  Dig it out of there using whatever you have or whatever you can find on the side of the road.

Put the tube back into the tire, and put the tire back on the rim, essentially the reverse of removal.  Make sure the tube is nicely seated within the tire and not under the bead.  Inflate with your method of choice.  Voila!  A nicely repaired  tire.

When I had my tube out I saw what went wrong with my system.  When I initially installed the tube and rim strip  I was not careful enough and a 4" long section of the polyurethane puncture strip folded over, laying up on the sidewall instead of the bed of the tire.  Sure enough, a piece of glass punctured the tube within this 4" section.  OF COURSE IT DID!!  Murphy's Law.  I am not thrilled with the Conti puncture resistance system, this piece of glass was puny but it still got through the puncture belts within the tire.  Anyway, I repaired the rim strip ( had to blast it with a heat gun to mold it back into flatness) and now the rear tire should perform as I hope it will---that is to say, no more flats.

So I learned a new flat repair method that works, is easy, and saves much time and effort.  I may just use this on my road bikes as well just for additional practice.  Of course, all of this hinges on whether or not you would even consider patching your own tubes.  Bike shops love flat repairs for the easy money.  Support your LBS!  I think tube repair is one of the fundamental skills of the true wheelman or wheelwoman;  its rewarding,  green for the planet and saves a lot of money in the long run.

Doing whatever it takes to keep riding,

Flash