Pretty and Ugly Things

Let's begin with the ugly thing.

That is my first, and very poor, attempt at brass-brazing a lug. I carried out this monstrosity yesterday, during my first visit to the shop where I will make a few frames this winter. Olivier and I were only really intending to look around, see what tools were present, and work out a schedule.

But we ended up making one such hideous joint each. We used 1 1/4" straight-gauge tubing and Ceeway practice lugs. It took an hour at least using files and a die grinder to open up the sockets in the lug wide enough to accept the tubes. Then we make the hand-miter with an undersized file, so the fit was a bit crude. Then we drilled a vent hole and did what we could with the torch. Brass certainly doesn't flow as nicely as silver. But then I intend to use silver on my frames, so I didn't take it to heart.

Now, the pretty things.

#1. Shimano BL-1051 brake levers


I bought these this week from someone on Craigslist. The anodizing is a strange colour, and it looks nice with the white hoods. These are very early aero levers, also, and have a weird SLR system. It's pretty difficult to explain, but the spring feels a bit stronger. I think I'd rather have the silver version (or some early 600 aero levers), but these are nice. If anyone wants to trade...

#2. Shimano RD-A551 rear derailleur


This is for my "city bike," the second one I want to make this winter. A simple, clean-looking derailleur that will no doubt work very well. It has the "normal" spring for immediate, jammy Uniglide-friendly shifting—but was made in 1997. I just tried polishing off the logo and a bunch of anodizing came off with it, so I may need to sand and polish the whole thing.

#3. The Selle Italia Flite saddle box


This box is incredible.

After a very comfortable ride in the Hell of the North last winter on a Flite, I'm considering using one on my randonneur. Weight savings of 350g (175% the weight of a Flite) over a Brooks Pro, so I'll give it a shot. Some people find these just as comfortable, and perhaps I'm one...

If only I could ride the box! Or a Concorde!

FH-M650

My resolution to sell stuff I don't need is still very much in place. But nowhere did I resolve not to buy anything. Today I purchased two NOS sets of Shimano Deore DX f/r hubs, for $25/set.

I love Shimano stuff from the late 80s and early 90s. For one thing, it often looks nice. Some groups are painted grey, true. But some (Santé) are painted white! And the rest have that most desirable of finishes: clear anodizing, which combines the shine of polished non-anodized aluminum with the durability of their usually dull anodized counterparts. These hubs have that finish. (The rest of this mountain bike group isn't anything too special, though those cranks aren't bad, and the derailleur is pretty nice).

And technologically, 80s/90s Shimano stuff it's exactly where you want to be. Reliable indexed shifting is available, freehubs are in, Hyperglide is not yet universal (immediate Uniglide shifting is available!), nice aero brake levers have arrived, and nice-quality 7-speed is still available. These hubs mix numerous incredibly desirable features. They are spaced at 135mm in the rear, yet are designed for 6/7 speed—so low dish. And they will accept Hyperglide or Uniglide cassettes. It's hard to imagine a better set of hubs. And they're $25! And the skewers are nice!

One set (or rather, the rear hub—with my "obsolete" SON28 in front) will be used on my forthcoming city bike. The other, perhaps, will find its way on to a customer's bike some day!

Update: I have so convinced myself by writing this post that I'm seriously considering using the second rear hub on Clive. The spacing is right, 6spd Uniglide cassettes (good for friction shifting) are available, and I could certainly sell my Phil Wood "Riv" hub for more than $25. Perhaps I should prepare to un-build my second wheel...

Also, the cool photo above is from Mombat.org.

New Year's Resolutions

After four months in Central Europe, I'm back in Canada, and absolutely dying to get on with all sorts of bike things. Let us look to the future, and make some plans!

#1. Finally have a randonneur. This has been mostly out of my hands to this point, but not any longer. I ordered a Mariposa in 2007, and they stopped building frames. I ordered a Velo Orange in 2007, it was supposed to be ready in summer 2008, and in winter 2009 I was told they'd discontinued the semi-custom randonneur program. Now, after considerable waiting, I have a frame. I went to see it before Christmas. There are a few changes I want to make before it's painted, but it certainly is serviceable. There is a tremendous amount of "construction" (prononcé en français) still to be done: wiring to set up, fenders to mount, racks to make level, perhaps even a derailleur to build. But I hereby resolve: I will have my randonneur ready for spring rides!

In that spirit, today I built up my new generator hub into my old front wheel. (That's the new wheel up there, in front a Greg Curnoe poster and postcard.) One of the sure signs that you've been waiting too long for your custom frame is that the parts become obsolete. When I ordered the Velo Orange in 2008, I bought and built up a SON28 hub into Mavic MA rims. Since then, the SON 20R has appeared, and it made too much sense not to use. So I bought one, and yesterday unlaced the SON28 from the wheel, and today rebuilt the wheel with the SON20R. (See the two hubs side-by-side below.) The SON20R an incredibly cool hub. It's very nice-looking, it's light, and the upside of its narrow flange spacing is that it's probably more aerodynamic. I think, by the way, that the flange spacing is more or less identical to that on my Phil Wood "Riv" rear hub. Matching—always important to me!

#2. Build more frames. If there is one thing that my experience as a customer has taught me, it is that there is room for improvement in the "business" of custom bikes. My experience as a student in Doug Fattic's class taught me that—a surprise to myself!—I possess the mechanical aptitude to braze, file, and otherwise build bicycle frames. The fact that I am still writing this blog, over a year after the fact, has proven that my passion for handmade bicycles has not lessened. And the frustrations outlined above have taught me a lot about running a custom bicycle business.

Of course, I have a lot of work to do before I can start thinking about starting a business. The first thing is of course to get more experience building frames and racks. This will, hopefully, begin soon. This will be the main point of interest in the blog in the coming year. I'm planning on building two bikes at least: one designed for riding in snowy Toronto winter conditions, and an all-season city bike. These are more or less designed in my head, I've started getting parts ready, and hopefully construction will start soon.

#3. Ride more. Mostly because I didn't have a proper bike, I didn't ride as much as I normally do this year. 2010 will be different! I'll try to ride at least a 200, 300, and 400 with the Randonneurs—maybe even complete a Series. Paris-Brest-Paris is next year, and I intend to be there!

#4. Sell things I don't need. This will finance points 1-3, and make room for the frames I'm going to build! I'll post the more interesting things here.

I am always surprised at how many comments I get on my posts on this blog. In 2010, I will try to provide lots of interesting posts to comment on!

Merry Christmas Clive: Front Brake Hangers and Stops

My lucky bike Clive has already received his first Christmas gift.

Since my stem came hanger-free, I have been thinking over what the ideal location is for a front brake cable stop. Originally my idea was that the stop should be put smack dab in the middle of the stem extension. This is a crude implementation of the idea. I was thinking one could put a water bottle boss on the top of the extension, tap it out to M6, and then put an adjuster in the top. Two complications with this plan: you'd have to angle the boss such that it follows the angle of the headtube, which is the angle the brake cable needs to be at. And you need to drill an exit hole in the bottom of the extensions in the right place to follow that same angle. And then other questions: would it weaken the stem having a braze-on there? Stems are under a lot of stress, and you don't want them to fail. And would it be annoying that raising and lowering the stem would tighten and loosen the front brake? Also: this idea is pretty awful if you're using aero brake levers (I'm using these).

The other option for a stem-located front brake cable hanger is the one on this Singer stem. Very attractive, and simpler than the above-mentioned idea, since it doesn't pass through the extension. Also, it doesn't cut through the extension, so no chance of weakening it. The drawback of stem-adjusting affecting front brake position remains. And any stop located below the stem is going to cause the housing to rub against the stem, producing rattling and wear of the chroming.

Finally I decided that a headset-mounted stop—the most obvious idea—was probably the best one. Regular steel Mafac hangers are nice looking but don't have cable adjusters. Weinnmann hangers have adjusters but are funny looking. The nicest headset hangers are again those on Alex Singers. Since these need to be made by hand anyway, it would be easy enough to made the stop a threaded boss capable of handling an adjuster.

I sent the above link to my friend Olivier and he got an idea to made a headset-mounted hanger using wires rather than a tube. Before I knew what was going on, he had designed and built the hanger!—the one photographed above. And it's glorious! It's very attractive, it incorporates an adjuster, and it even has an extra "loop" to guide the housing into the stop and possibly reduce rattling and finish-wear. Ingenious! The only possible downside is flexiness—maybe prolonged braking force will serve to "flatten out" the bend of the wires. We'll see! Update: Some actual testing has revealed that it's way too flexy! Back to the drawing board!

Some of you may remember that I was originally going to locate the adjusters right in the brake levers, Mafac-style. I had my Mavic levers tapped for some very attractive Dia Compe adjusters. But since the brake lever body on these Mavic levers is split, the threading was a bit "loose." I'm happier having the adjuster anchored somewhere more stable—and those nice adjusters will look nice on Olivier's hanger!

Clive Arrives

I am very pleased to announce that Clive—my randonneur frame by Dan Polito—has finally arrived on Canadian soil. His arrival was pushed back by many months due to a series of delays. But he is now with Noah at Velocolour. Since I myself am still living in Hungary, my friend Olivier has kindly sent me a whole bunch of photos of the frame and stem. (The custom rod-operated FD accidentally got left behind. It will arrive soon.)

Based on what I've heard from Olivier and seen in these pictures, Clive seems like he's in good shape. As some of you may remember, I sent Dan an extremely detailed order sheet. I'm a very picky customer, so Dan had a tall order. All the basics are right: the brazing is good, the finish is nice, and the clearances are all within a 1/4" and seem right. He also added a number of nice, original touches: nice dropout treatments, an interesting seatlug/sleeve. As a pleasant surprise, he built my fork from Jack Taylor Special Reynolds 531 imperial-oval blades and an old sand-cast crown.

Photos and commentaries follow.

Headtube, fillet-brazed joints, and single shift lever. Also note the very nice loop-and-stop treatment for the brake cables, as I did on my own bike Niles.


"Hellenic" (Dan calls them "continental") stays, seat lug/sleeve, and "where did it come from?" rear brake cable stop. A bit further down, that's the mount for my generator-powered taillight.


Rear brake cable hanger. Might be prone to flexing (thus mushiness), and it's brazed to the thin butt at the top of the seat tube. Pump pegs on the outside of the seatstay might cause the pump to block a bit of light from the taillight.


Fillet brazed bottom bracket area, fender mount braze-on, and thoughtfully indented seatstay for big ring clearance.


Very interesting dropout treatment and slapguard braze-on. Seatstay doesn't follow the angle of the dropout.


A better look at the seat lug/sleeve, which follows the contour of the fillet.


Fender mounting point and rear Mafac braze-ons.


The front dropouts also have interesting attachments. And the big dropouts are striking—and appropriately "English-looking," given the heritage of the fork blades.


A look at the bend of the fork blades. Also English-looking to my eye.


The lovely fork crown, onto which the Mafac bosses are attached. I sent Dan a front rack made by Mike Barry of Mariposa. It looks like I'll need to use a fairly large spacer to have it sit level. I might try making another rack myself...


Big loops for the generator wires on the left fork blade.


Dan's lovely custom quill stem. I still need to add a bell mount and put a cable stop for the front brake. I think I'd like the stop right in the extension, so that the brake cable passes through the stem. Not a very popular design for some reason—maybe because raising/lowering the stem affects the brake action, though that's not a big issue for me; and might even come in handy if I needed to drastically loosen the front brake for some reason...


A look at Dan's unique flush mount of the quill bolt.

A Soviet Bike in Riga

I'm sorry for the sparsity of my posts. Being "on the road" leaves less time that I would like for writing about bikes! And, I must say, generally bikes have not been among the more interesting things I've seen on this trip.

I did learn, on further travelling in Poland, than what I saw on the seaside and in small Gorzów isn't by any means typical of the country. In Wrocław—a university town—I saw lots of interesting city bikes, comparable to the sorts of bikes students ride in Toronto. I also spotted the fellow to the right riding an interesting bike outside of Warsaw. I didn't see any road bikes, however, until I arrived in Lviv (Lwów to Poles) in Ukraine. (I also saw an interesting, old French-looking mobylette in the window of an antiques shop.)

Budapest, where I am now, has a lot more bikes, and a lot more road bikes. But they are for the most part like bikes in Toronto—lots of steel road frames and fixed-gears. Nice, but not very different from what I'm used to.

The most interesting bike I've seen on my trip is the Soviet bike photographed here, which I saw in Riga. The brand name transliterates from the Cyrillic as "Start-Shossyeh," which I would investigate if my meagre internet connection allowed it. The most interesting detail of this bike for me is of course the Soviet Mafac-copy brakes. A close zoom reveals the brand name "XB3" ("Kh-V-Z"), which also appears on the headbadge of the bike (perhaps "Start-Shossyeh" is the model?). This bike is worth a look, in any case, and can be found in the newly created "Bicycles of Central and Eastern Europe" set I've created on my brand-new Flickr site. (Numerous other photos, including a set of cats, can also be found there!)

I was very lucky to be lent a cool 1990s Peugeot bike by my friend David this week, which I still haven't ridden very much. But if the weather is nice tomorrow, I'll head out for a ride to the Buda Hills and post a report here.

Bicycles and Bicycling in Poland

I had been in Poland for the past week, and while not exclusively engaged in bicycle research, I have noticed a few things.

Firstly, there are plenty of bicycles and people riding them. This is no doubt due in large part to the excellent bicycle lanes. Next to most roads—and certainly all newer roads—there is a dedicated bike lane. Generally this is on the other side of the sidewalk from the road—it's doubly separated from traffic, in other words. With all the excitement I've been reading about at home, this car/bicycle segregation doesn't seem like such a bad idea. (On the road outside my girlfriend's grandmother's house, where I'm staying, there was a fatal bike accident yesterday, when a truck driver turned right into a 50 year old cyclist without seeing him. It's an old road, and there's no dedicated bike lane.)

Secondly, the bicycles are generally "practical" rather than sporty. While Poland is an increasingly wealthy country, and car-ownership is certainly the norm, many people seem to use their bikes as "second cars"—for example, my girlfriend's aunt, who uses her bike for grocery shopping and errands when their car is in use. The example photographed is fairly typical, if somewhat newer than average (I'm afraid I haven't seen any weird Soviet-era bikes; they all have English names). I have yet to see a single drop-bar road bike. Mostly you see 1990s-style mountain bike with flat bars, V-brakes or cantilevers, and knobby tires. (Yes, the disease has spread!) But almost every bike I've seen does have a bottle generator-powered headlight, generally attached at the fork crown. The bike photographed, which I saw at the seaside town of Rewal, is distinguished by its neat internal routing.

Another notice, while I'm on the internet: Clive, my Cicli Polito randonneur, is now en route from Cleveland to Toronto, where it will be painted by Noah Rosen of Velocolour. My friend Olivier will be taking lots of photos when it arrives. God bless the internet—I'm dying to see it!