Clive's Wheels

And now, Two Serious Readers, I will fill the tedious period between now and Clive's completion by talking about the parts I'm going to put on him. Many of these are currently in Cleveland or in the mail. But some are here.

First, the wheels. Like every part, these have been the result of much soul-searching, doubt, reversed decisions, and financial waste. Initially, in a fit of enthusiasm, I decided I wanted Phil hubs—a cassette rear and a low-flange front. So I bought a new pair for a very good price on eBay. Then I changed my mind, and sold them individually for a little more than I what I paid for them.

Front-wheel-wise, you see, I had decided I wanted a generator hub. The logistics of carrying around extra batteries for an LED flashlight had come to see impractical. So I bought a SON28, built it up, and then Schmidt had the audacity to produce the SON20R and Edelux. Ugh.

As for the rear wheel, I decided that the Phil cassette hub was overkill: too heavy, too expensive, and was set up to take too many gears. I wanted 6/7 speeds and friction at this point, and was seduced by a Rivendell Reader article about the 135mm-spaced Phil Wood "Riv" freewheel hubs with no dish (and thus even spoke tension on the drive and non-drive sides; this uneven tension being the source of most broken spokes). In the article that seduced me, Rivendell wheelbuilder Rich is quoted as saying "All the strength of a front wheel, with no disadvantages." Well, in the year-and-half that I've had this hub, I've thought of two disadvantages:

1. The wide spacing at the rear, compared with the normal 126mm spacing of 6/7 speed rear hubs, means that you can't have as narrow Q-factor on your cranks. For example, I am using a 113mm BB on my Nishiki, with Stronglight 49d cranks and a 126mm rear end. On Clive, I'll need to use a 116 or 118 BB.
2. The flange spacing on the "Riv" hub is narrow (about 50mm). I have a Mavic rear hub set up for a 7-speed freewheel and 135mm spacing, and while not dishless, it has much wider flange spacing, and sets up the bearings inside of the non-drive-side flange. So the Phil wheel is likely a bit weaker, and certainly there's a bit more stress on the bearings.

Neither of these reasons has convinced me I can't live with the "Riv" hub. 3-5mm of Q-factor isn't really a very big deal. And I'll see how the hub survives on the road before jumping to conclusions about wheel strength, etc.

Two bonus disadvantages in general of Phils vs. Maxi-Cars: no labyrinth-sealin' dustcaps on the bearings; and no keyhole spoke holes for on-the-fly drive-side spoke swaps (say this sentence aloud!) I think I can live with both.

As for rims: like everyone on earth, I was initially looking for Mavic MA2s. But, Lord, they go for a lot of money on eBay, etc. I found some Mavic MAs instead, on a local Kijiji. After some research, I wasn't able to find much of a difference between MAs and MA2s. So I bought these, and they were extremely cheap. I've had no second thoughts about them: cool labels, a clear anodized finish (shiny, but not requiring constant polishing), and nice and straight during wheelbuilding.

As for spokes: Wheelsmith 296mm 14/15 double-butted. I like the "dramatic" butts on the Wheelsmiths!

The freewheel is Shimano 600 6-speed Uniglide 13-26. This came to me on a Velo-Sport that my girlfriend bought me at a garage sale for $15. The bike was essentially unridden. I would pay a lot more than $15 just for this glorious freewheel. (In the photos you see a Sachs 7-speed 13-26. It's coming off before I start riding Clive.)

For tires I've chosen the Grand Bois Cyprès 700x30s. I haven't ridden these yet, but I like the 28s I have on Niles.

I rode the wheels on a few randonneur rides last year, and so far so good. But it will take many thousands of miles to decide if all the madness and dishlessness was really necessary.

Adios Stem Cap Switch

The accursed lighting system continues to cause difficulties.

From the start, I have been perhaps unreasonably excited about using a Bicycle Quarterly-style stem-cap switch. The idea is that you use a regular threaded headset and fork—but instead of using a quill stem, you braze in an extra tube into the steer tube, which extends a bit above the threaded portion. To this you clamp a stem. Why do all this? So that the steer tube is hollow and empty, which allows you to stick a switch in there, toggled by via a specially manufactured stem cap, and run wiring from it to front and rear lights.

It's a smart idea, and it's certainly different. I'm not sure I decided I wanted it for the former or latter reason. Well, in the last few days it has come to seem a needless complication. For two reasons:

1. When the Edelux headlight came out, I was not very eager to read about it. I had just bought its halogen predecssor, after all, and didn't want to hear all the ways that the new light had rendered mine obsolete. Well, in the last week I've realized it would be silly to go to all the trouble of wiring up my "obsolete" light. So I got an Edelux. Which, as I now learned, has an auto-sensor on/off switch, which also controls a taillight. Which makes the whole remote-control stem cap switch somewhat unnecessary.
2. My other "obsolete" piece of equipment, the SON28 generator hub, needs to be set in the dropouts so that the electrical terminals are on the drive side. My Mariposa rack places the light on the non-drive side. So foregoing the stem cap switch would result in awkward cable routing to and from the light. But the SON20R, which is press-fit rather than screwed together, can be mounted "backwards" in the dropout. So I guess I'll get one of those too, and have a very neatly-organized lighting system.
   

I suppose I'll sell the SON28 and the E6 on eBay. I'm not sure how much I'll get for them. At least I got a bit of use out of them last year on randonneur rides! A lesson for those on frame waiting lists: put off your lighting purchases!

All this also means I'll be using a normal quill stem rather than the combinated threaded/clamp setup. This may mean I can make use of another one of my silly purchases. I bought the above-photographed Rene Herse stem cap (the only item from that shop I will ever own, I figure) thinking it might be useful in the stem-cap lighting system. Well, it wasn't. But, ironically, it may be in my quill setup, which will likely be similar to this beautiful stem by Mitch Pryor.

Allow me to conclude this post by noting that Dan Polito is, thank goodness, a very patient person. I've sent him far too many emails in the last few days, and he hasn't complained.

A Taillight for Clive

As a person of strong aesthetic commitments but limited mechanical knowledge, I am often driven mad by knowing exactly what I want but being unable to make it. With bicycles, this often leads to my fumbling slowly toward success, learning the easiest way of doing things only after significant trial and error. Thank God, for example, that I decided to take Doug Fattic's class and not just to "wing it" in framebuilding. I saved myself a lot of money, a lot of time, and more significantly, a lot of mental anguish.

Clive is generally much simpler: Dan Polito is doing all the work—except for the lighting system. I have taken it more or less on myself to design and install the lighting system, even though I know next to nothing about lights, electronics, soldering, etc. Worst of all, since no nice taillights are available commercially, I am on the hook to actually make (or, as I put it earlier and with more latinate diction, fabricate) a taillight.

In Bicycle Quarterly's article on the lighting system I'm attempting to recreate, Jan Heine makes the system sound easy: "Just make an epoxy mould from one of the many JOS taillights you have kicking around the house!" Well, friends, I'm ashamed to admit it: I have not a single JOS taillight. The other way to do it is to stick the LEDs into a cyclindrical aluminum housing, like this new "Rene Herse." But that just doesn't look as nice as, for example, the taillights that Peter Weigle makes.

What to do then? Well, find a nice, pretty old French taillight, take out all the antiquated halogen "guts," and replace them with LEDs. Then drill a hole in the back and epoxy in (OED editors take note: I am using "epoxy" here as a verb) a bolt for mouting to Clive's seattube light braze-on. I had been looking for one of these lights for some time on eBay.fr — although I'd only been using the search term "feu." My friend Olivier pointed out I should also have been searching for "phare," "lumière," "catadioptre" and "réflecteur."

Then, moments later, bless his soul, he found the ideal taillight for me. Best of all, the listing title was very vague—and as a result, I was the only bidder. For a grand total of $22 Canadian dollars, including shipping, the lights pictured above are now on their way from France. I suspect that the taillight is a Vitalux, as chronicled on Aldo Ross's fantastic and peculiar blog about French lights. I'm not sure I'll do anything with the headlight. But with a bit of polishing and some delicate operations, the taillight should be beautiful and befitting my Clive.

Also: before I go on another transatlantic quest, if anyone knows where I can get a fender-mounted reflector along these lines, please post a comment!

Baby Photos

The first photos of my little son, Clive, have been posted to the Cicli Polito flickr page!

Lots of progress has already been made—his tubes are mitred and his design is all set. The Mariposa rack apparently works perfectly with the frame, which is very good news. Now Dan has the huge job of organizing all the braze-ons.

The biggest worry for me is the lighting system. Of course, things are always more complicated once you actually get down to building them. I'm having trouble determining exactly how the switch sits in the stem-clamp tube, how to make a stem cap to attach to the switch, and what size to make the braze-on for the taillight. But these are small concerns compared to all the work Dan has ahead of him!

Another thing I've been debating is whether to stick with my Schmidt E6 headlight or buy one of the nice, but expensive and not-upside-down-mountable Edeluxes. This is one of the many problems of being on infinite long-term waitlists: you buy all your components, and then watch them slowly become obsolete...

Clive will be delivered some time toward the end of the month. Then he'll be off to Noah at Velocolour for painting (frame and derailleur) and chrome plating (stem and perhaps derailleur). It looks like I'll be able to get a few rides in before I leave to Hungary for four months in September.

To Barrie and Back

Last Monday I came home to find a message from my nephew Kieran on the answering machine. "Hi Uncle Apple. [For this is what he calls me.] Umm, I learned to ride a two-wheeler. (Pause) That's, ah, pretty much it. (Pause) Okay bye."

Well, this was exciting news. And what's more, my mother was planning on visiting my sister in Barrie that coming weekend to buy Kieran a proper-fitting bicycle. Naturally I wanted to be part of the "two-wheeler-riding" celebration.

Since Barrie lies almost exactly 100km north of my front door, I thought I would ride there and back. Ideally, I would have avoided the monotony and general unpleasantness of riding out of the city, but our city's terrible weekend transit service meant that no buses ran until after 9am. So I woke up at 6am and was on the road at 7.00.

Nishiki, groggily allowing himself to be photographed. My camera needed to use its flash to make this picture turn out, and the flash woke my neighbour. Moments later, she gazed sleepily out her window and asked me if there was a thunder storm, and why I was looking in her window.

My route took me along Bloor to Dundas, which I travelled northwest to Weston Rd., onetime home of CCM Bicycles. Here I am at the corner of Weston and Eglinton.

Weston eventually joined up with Jane St., which was to take me all the way to Barrie. Here I am at the notorious corner of Jane and Finch, which actually looks quite a bit nicer that you'd expect.

It certainly has a lot more character than dreadful Vaughan, the low point of the ride. Not even Canada's Wonderland can save this odious stretch of "exurban" wasteland.

The best thing about Vaughan for the passing cyclist: its end. As soon as you pass Teston Rd. you're in the verdant pastoral glory of Jane St. south of the Holland Marsh.

This is quite literally two blocks north of Teston, with only that hydro pole support to remind us of the horrors four blocks south.

It had rained the night before, and the countryside was in all its late-spring glory.

Jane St. south of the Holland Marsh has this very wide paved shoulder, which is nicer than most bike lanes. Unfortunately, a 25km/h headwind somewhat impeded my enjoyment of it.

This wind was felt dramatically in the peculiar, flat, and rich-soiled Holland Marsh, where I saw a hummingbird.

Having negotiated the tangle of roads north of the Marsh, I was on my way once again on 10th Sideroad. The stretch from here to Barrie isn't as pleasant as the road to the south, but the terrain is rolling and very fun.

The rolling, not-as-lush landscape.

After four and a half hours of battling the headwind, I arrived in Barrie and was immediately fed and taken bike shopping. I wanted to buy Kieran's bike from a local bike shop that once gave me a free replacement for a stripped seatpost clamp bolt, but sadly it was closed on this Sunday. So we went to Canadian Tire, and Kieran got a Supercycle. I wanted something without suspension, but the only one that fit him had a suspension fork. His bike has a single front chainring with a guard only on the outside. Sure enough, during pre-ride fiddling, the chain came off the ring. If only he had some double guards à la Alan! Here is Kieran on his bike, my sister with my mom's bike, my brother-in-law on my sister's bike (with Ronan and India in the trailer), and me in my civilian clothes on Nishiki.

As I rode around the schoolyard with Kieran, he asked me, " 'Bi-' means 'two,' right? So 'bi-cycle' means two wheels, right?" He is a lad after my own heart! Here I am about to set off back home, which I did after some more eating and playing with Ronan and India (the former pictured behind.)

The ride home was glorious, thanks mostly to the 25km/h tailwind. I spent nearly the whole ride in my 46x15. I switched the route up a bit and rode back on 5th Sideroad, which follows Hwy 400 on the west rather than the east as Jane does.

It seemed like all the hills were descents on 5th Sideroad...

This one hill was long and gradual—a rare thing in Ontario! I will definitely ride 5th Sideroad north of the Holland Marsh from now on: it's quieter and prettier than the same stretch of Jane. But I do fear all the climbing in the other direction!

At the turn on to a far more northerly stretch of Weston Rd., the flags indicate my strong tailwind...

"Civilization" visible in the distance... On the run-in to dreaded Vaughan the road is smooth and slightly inclining. Combined with the tailwind, I was spinning out my 46x13 and probably travelling at about 40km/h. The tailwind cut an hour from my riding time on the way back.

Rather than riding down a clogged Jane St., I turned left at Steeles and right at Dufferin and came eventually to the Downsview subway stop. I was very happy to get away from the cycling-unfriendly northern stretches of the city.

And now, having written this post, I'm excited to ride once again the roads to Barrie!

OT: The Blue Jays, Pizza Pizza, and Their Nasty Accusations

My birthday, a sunny Sunday, my visiting mother, the Blue Jays, a bunch of strikeouts, and free pizza—what, dear reader, could be better? This was a glorious combination, surely? Alas not! No, no: A noxious, bitter, upsetting mix!

This weekend, you see, was my birthday. And my loving mother proposed a trip to see the Blue Jays. It was a lovely day, Halladay was on the mound, and all was cheery. The game itself went as well as one could dream. After a difficult first inning, Doc calmed right down and was dominant through six more, during which time his teammates scored eight runs. His dominance expressed itself in many strikeouts, which carried an added bonus: if the Jays' pitcher gets seven strikeouts on a weekend game, you get a free slice of pizza. Just present your ticket at your nearest location, and a Pizza Pizza pepperoni slice is yours to devour.

Well. This afternoon, after listening to another Blue Jays victory over the visiting White Sox, I went to the Pizza Pizza location at 585 Bloor St. W., at Bathurst. I presented my ticket, an e-ticket printed off by my mother. Immediately I was met with suspicion.

"This is a photocopy," the cashier told me, holding up my black-and-white home-printed e-ticket. "All the other ones are in colour." Here she referred to a stack of tickets identical to mine though printed via bubble jet.

"My mom printed my ticket on a laser printer. It's black and white. There's not much I can do about it," I said.

She went and got her manager, who, on further questioning, gave his name only as "Zi."

He concurred with his subordinate's assessment. "It's a photocopy. Look at these ones," he said, once again referring to the stack of coloured print-outs. He noticed that my mother's printer hadn't handled the Blue Jays' margins well, and that some text was cut off. "See?" Then he rubbed the colourful e-tickets between his fingers, comparing their home-printed paper with mine. "You can feel the difference. Yours is fake."

There was an excellent argument to be made. "You just printed out several copies of your ticket," they might have said, "and brought them to location after location, until you were quite full." Indeed I might have done that! But it would be impossible to prove! And so while there were grounds for suspicion, the fault lay not with me but with the Blue Jays, Pizza Pizza, and their shoddy ticket-checking coordination (a rather expensive sychronized barcode-scanning setup would do the trick.) And anyway: the tie goes to the runner.

That I hadn't hit print several times is certainly a testament to my honesty (and my moderate appetite—I am a cyclist, after all!). But it's quite beside the point. The point is that their actual accusation was incoherent. Why they thought I would photocopy a printout; why they thought a bubble jet printout superior to a laser; why my mother's economical choice of printing paper should impact my ability to enjoy a free slice — well, all of this escaped me.

Angered at the multiform absurdities, I asked Zi to call his manager, which he intially refused to do. Sullenly I sat myself on the bench and refused to leave. Eventually, in the background, I saw Zi on the phone. After some time, he approached to tell me that I would have to call Pizza Pizza myself. And so, after expressing my indignation at having been accused of unsuccessfully defrauding my way into a $2 pizza slice, I went home pizzaless.

From home I called Pizza Pizza. I talked to customer service, and explained the situation. They called Zi. After five minutes on hold, I was told that my ticket was incomplete and so there was nothing they could do. I hung up. Then I called back, and tried again; they called Zi, he gave the same story, and I was once again told they couldn't accept my ticket. I asked to speak to the customer service person's manager this time, and on I went. This person called Zi once again. This time I was told, "I don't know what's up with that location. I'll give you $5."

After having wasted the better part of an hour on a glorious day, however, I wanted an apology as well. And ten dollars! And so the manager's manager promised to call me, which shortly she did. I have now forwarded my original ticket and photographs of the offending printout, and am awaiting judgment.

There are lessons for us all in this vexing tale.

Clive's Construction is Imminent

Today, a box arrived in Cleveland containing the following:

• a Mariposa front rack
• a pair of engraved Mafac 2000 brakes
• a set of Mafac braze-ons
  
• a Mavic 840 rear derailleur
• a Stronglight A9 headset
  
• a Zefal Solibloc pump
• a Champion slapguard

Fenders and a Simplex right-hand shift lever are en route from elsewhere.

Starting Friday, Dan Polito will be putting the frame together to receive these many parts. Some time in June, it will arrive here and I will begin connecting the wiring, fabricating lights, making switches, and having it painted.

Until then, watch the Cicli Polito flickr page.

As previous readers will know, I spent a few months on the Mariposa wait list for a randonneur. Then Mike retired, so I got on the Velo Orange wait list, where I remained for 16 months. Then VO ceased making these frames, and I went to NAHBS in March and met Dan, who said he could make me a frame in around four months. He's a wonderful guy and a fine framebuilder, and this frame is going to be very special, with lots of cool touches. I'm excited to see what Dan produces!