When I was an Industrial Design student I designed a hand held mobile phone no bigger than, say, a Nokia N97. This was 198cough and I was marked down severely because, according to the tutor, mobile phone technology would never be small enough to fit inside such a small unit. And later, inspired by the groundbreaking work being done by folks in the world of Human Powered Vehicles, I designed a handlebar mounted fairing-cum-windscreen for a bicycle I was marked down because there wasn’t and probably never would be any demand for such a product.

I’m not bitter.

But it gave me a great deal of pleasure to buy one of these here Yepp windscreens >>>

… from David Hembrow’s Dutch Bike Bits. To keep the wind and rain off my little Rufus. I shall let you know how it functions in a future report. My only gripe so far is that the bracket which attaches it to the handlebar stem is such an enormous great lump (designed as it is to carry a Yepp child seat with, presumably, a child in it) that I fear it may encroach on the crotchal area of our little boy. We shall see. Reluctant to take a hacksaw to it just yet…

And this:

For the same bike. It’s lush, and now that every Beemexer on the planet is running compact – it’s now obselete! And hence very cheap! Which is nice.. To replace the (note: reversed to share the wear) ancient second-hand and knackered Profile ring which is on it at the mo.

‘Sure!’ Says the man behind the counter. ‘What size do you require?’ ‘Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen or fifteen millimetres?’

‘Oh. I dunno.’ Says the boy. And he wanders off back to the bus stop to wait for a bus which will take him home to his unrideable bike. The spacer will have to wait until next weekend. If he can work out how to measure it correctly.

Thankfully there’s a new product available which will prevent this sort of unhappy situation ever occuring again. It’s made up of two pieces of thermoplastic, and hopefully you’ll be able to see what it does from the images. Yet another of those ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ products. It’s very cool, and I’ve got one.

I just need a bike for it to go on, but in the meantime I shall enjoy fiddling with it.

A long term product test report will be along in a while…..

By Australian outfit, Colony BMX, whose products are distributed in the UK by www.tabletopdistribution.com

Which is where The Bike Place comes in. They’ve spotted a gap in the Bicycle Trade Show market and rushed in to fill it. What they’ve done is create an inexpensive trade-only show, bringing together a group of smaller, often niche suppliers to create a classy event without the crowds and freneticism. If that’s even a word.

Not expecting to find anything particularly new I went to meet up with one or two people who represent companies who are presenting their bikes in the Cyclorama book. But I did find one or two interesting bikes and other doodads which I hadn’t seen before.

This morning, in addition to the joy of waking up to discover that the car had been hit by a bus in the street, I discovered that my big camera is toast. Time for a new one, but in the meantime I had to resort to the happy snapper so aologies for the quality. And apologies also for the horrid carpet which appears in some of the images. As ever, right click and ‘view image’ to see it biggered up.

Sanderson Solo

Sanderson bikes, steel, UK centric hartails. Very nice and earning a cult following.

When I started in the industry this kind of bike was out-moded and behind the times. My how things have changed. I certainly like it, and there are several companies doing similar things, Nirve and Trek included. But will people buy it/them? I certainly hope so. We shall see.

How can something so hardcore look so lithe?

Swoop.

There are only one or two places in the UK where a full-blown DH bike makes any sense. Our mountains just aren’t mountaneous enough. So say hello to a much more sensible weekend weapon, the Kona Entourage, a full blown DH bike in all but travel -170mm is all this needs to do its thing. Proving that it’s not about how much you’ve got, it’s the way that you use it..

Danny’s own trials brand. Note thru-axle front hub. Nice.

This thing has so much work in it. Very impressive indeed, and though it looks very nice this isn’t a stylig excercise, each and every tube junction is the way it is for a reason. More on this later – fingers crossed…

Purple anodising never left my heart.

Sorry I didn’t get pics of any Kogas which were there in force, and KCNC’s UK importer appear to be stocking the full range now – incredible stuff. But you’ll just have to take my word for it…

Anyway. Product of the show was the nifty Colony adjustable threadless headset spacer. More of which in a future post. Thought of the show? People are still spending big money buying high end bikes.

My point, which I’ll get to eventually, is this; If bike freaks like me, proper dyed-in-the-wool, life-long, committed cycling enthusiasts give up when the going gets tough how can we ever hope to persuade the general motoring public to adopt cycling? It’s not like I don’t have all the gear, the right bike(s), waterproofs, lights and all the rest. I’ve got no excuse.

But it gets a bit wearing when you’re struggling into a icy stinging headwind and one vehicle after another comes by too close, too fast, leaving you gasping in a cloud of spray. Drivers look at you as if you are completely mad from the comfort of their warm cocoons. And you wonder why the hell you’re doing it. For the planet? Why? When no one else seems to give a hoot. Answers on a postcard etc..

From back to front:

Caz’s Gazelle Impala 7 with basket and silver Clarjis bags,

Big Blue Bakfiets with orange Clarjis bags,

Caz’s Custom Thorn kiddy-back tandem with SON and Rohloff. Attached to it but just out of shot is her (third!) Burley trailer.

And my Africa bike.

With the exception of the Thorn these are our ‘outside’ bikes. Everyday bikes which spend their whole lives in the *outdoors. In the coming weeks I’m planning to introduce y’all to these bikes individually. Why? Because these are tools, built to do a job. Not super high mileage bikes, not road bikes or dirt bikes. No exotic materials here. Just ordinary – dare I day boring? – everyday workhorses. They are answers to individual questions. Such as ‘How do I deliver a ten year old and a five year old to school and bring home the shopping?’ They are all very capable and share some things in common – such as high bars and hub gears – but different in their specifics.

Yeahbut. Why? Because if we want people to give up their cars we need to present them with realistic practical alternatives. And somewhere in that pile is the ultimate utility bike. Or perhaps its mummy.

It’s extremely unlikely that the quest for the ultimate utility bike will result in just one bike which can do it all. But that shouldn’t stop us seeking it. I’m really enjoying the journey.

*Of course the real reason these bikes are ‘outside’ bikes is because there is no room in the garage. Because it’s full of bikes.

Wasps? January??

I have my bike back on the road. Bike #1, my ‘daily’, the Africa Bike. I love all the other bikes, but they aren’t everyday bikes. The Bakfiets weighs a frickin’ ton for a start off.

If you’ve been following this blog (Thanks for reading my drivel by the way, I appreciate it) you’ll know that my Africa bike has been tweaked and tuned in an effort to turn a good tough little workaday bike into the ideal – my ideal – everyday utility bike. It’s an 18″ step-thru chro-moly three-speed with a rear pannier rack, front (frame mounted) cargo rack, puncture resistant tyres and a front mounted kid’s seat for my little Rufus. It’s a tank. It can carry a straw bale, a small boy, a teenage girl, and me. And tow a trailer. All at the same time.

Anyway. Being without it for so long has really brought home to me just how much I missed it. The novelty of the Bakfiets and the more recently acquired Taurus postponed the pain but in the end I was pulling my hair out.

It’s no super model. It’s just a bloody bicycle. But without it I felt bereft. Without it I resorted to the car more often than I should.

The really useful bike. It was only when it was unavailable that I became truly aware of just how useful it is.

It’s back (thanks Ashley at Cycle Heaven!), it has an ice tyre on the front rim all ready for anything the winter can throw at it.

Bring it on.

Ash, Cycle Heaven’s resident hub expert kindly checked it over. FOC. He backed off the cones, it span ok and I breathed a sigh of relief. When I got it back I put it back in the frame and hooked up the shifter cable to discover that the hub is still – literally – screwed up inside. It doesn’t pedal forward in second. So back it went to the shop. In the bike this time to give Ash a better idea of what the hell is going on.

Meanwhile… My enquiries into the availability of spares have unearthed two  facts: A complete rear wheel laced to a SRAM 3 iMotion hub is cheaper to buy than just a hub. And just a hub is cheaper to buy than just the internals. The less you buy the dearer it becomes. How queer.

I await Ashley’s call with trepidation.

Meanwhile… David Hembrow contacts me with news that his Dutch Bike Bits on-line store now stocks good quality Shi**no dynamo-hub equipped front wheels. British readers will be astonished at their low cost. We hope that shipping from Dutchland doesn’t dent their great value.

The Solar System looking south to Selby

Saturday dawned with a promise of a bright clear morning, a chance to retake the pics I deleted the other day. And no better conditions for a bicycle ride.

(Right click image and ‘view image’ to see full size pics).

The addition of a Basil chrome plated front rack has changed the look. My Italian bike with its Dutch rack is now reminiscent of a French ‘Porteur’ bike. The hot trend at the moment amongst Oregon custom builders. ‘Xept this one aint $6,000!

I cut the rack down by one ‘rung’ and redrill it to get it on – designed as it is for high-front-end Dutch style bikes. And there’s still space to lift the bars if I need too. Speaking of which: I fitted a vintage adjustable 3TTT stem. It’s something I’ve had lying around for years, waiting for the right bike to go on. But I’m not yet convinced that this bike is it. Being a road bike stem it requires a shim to accept the bars. I’m also not convinced by the bars. They suit the look of the bike very well but don’t suit my wrists, no matter what angle I aim them. Pedals are loathsome, narrow and slippy. I’m on the lookout for something to replace them with but what? The perfect pedal (a platform in the style of a DMR V12 with short pins) will look totally out of place. Needs some thought….. The gear ratio felt too tall initially but I’m adapting to it. I’d love to have a bit of chrome chain poking out the back of that bobbed chaincase. And would a chrome plated sprocket be too much? David Hembrow kindly reminded me of the environmental disaster that is chrome plating when I ordered the Basil rack via his Dutch Bike Bits on-line shop. How far am I prepared to go in pursuit of the perfect bike?

My love affair with this bike hasn’t diminished. I dream about it. Like a child with a new toy I want to sleep with it, or at least have it in the bedroom. Am I weird? Don’t answer that.

The paint (or is it powder coated?) could be shinier. The mudguards could be a bit longer. The Taurus sticker is on the wrong side of the down tube. The headbadge is skew-wiff. And I don’t care. This is not an expensive bike – and that’s kind of the point of it. It’s just a bike; simple, cheap and utilitarian.

What was a particularly nice discovery was the quality of the bike’s assembly. Though the shipping box was so poor it barely made it to my door, the bike it struggled to contain was, with the installation of the bar and stem and pedals, totally ready for the road. That’s very rare in modern bike. Even the most expensive bikes in your local bike shop will need a minimum half an hour of preparation between it’s shipping box and the road. The Pre Delivery Inspection for this machine was less than five minutes. The spokes are tight, the rims are true and every bearing is adjusted perfectly. In my experience only Brompton bikes fall out of the box as well prepared as this. Exceptional.

The only real disappointment was the truly crappy seat clamp. The temporary black one in the pics has now been replaced by a proper, and I mean proper, Brooks chrome plated clamp. I had to order it specially. It cost a small fortune. Funny, we used to throw them away by the bucket load because no-one wanted old skool seat clamps. But £11? Jeez.

I don’t have a clue how much this bike retails for or if it’s even available in your territory. If you want one badly enough contact the nice folks at Taurus directly. Just please don’t buy one if you live in the UK.

I like having the only one.

Riding my lovely new Contropedale with its recently installed front ‘porteur’ rack this morning, I stopped to take some pictures in the low winter sunlight which was streaming across the landscape. We haven’t had any rays for days, but this morning everything came together, the light was magical, the bike looked stunning and I was – genuinely – thinking that this is the best set of photographs I have ever taken.

Got to work. Plugged in the camera to the PC. And deleted them all.

There will be no images in this instalment of the Cyclorama blog. Because I am an idiot.

Normal service will be resumed asap. :/

I found myself a little window of opportunity on Sunday the 1st to put my Africa Bike back together. It’s been sitting with its wheels out against the outside wall of the garage for several months now waiting. Waiting for me to order the new axle and brake shoe, then waiting for them to arrive from Holland, then waiting-waiting-waiting for me to get them to the bike shop, and for the bike shop to fit them and for me to pick it up and so on. I eventually found myself in the garage with a cup of tea in one hand and a couple of hours in the other.

When I first put this hub (a SRAM 3 speed coaster) into this bike I didn’t do it right. In my hurry to get it up and running I failed to align the rear drop-outs after spreading the rear triangle to accommodate the wider hub. It’s a Golden Rule of any hub, but particularly for internal geared hubs that the drop-outs be aligned correctly. Ride any distance on a bike with skew-wiff drop-outs and you’ll bend or break your rear axle. It’s an eventuality as predictable as the sunrise. With its cogs and gears the bending of an axle in a geared hub is a potentially catastrophic event.

My Step-dad told me to be very wary of buying a car from a car mechanic. They often don’t attend things when they should, or to the best of their abilities. I guess because they have the skills to re-bodge them if or when they fail. His sage advice certainly applies to this former bike mechanic. When working on other people’s bikes I am meticulous but my own bikes suffer the ignominy of being roughly assembled, chucked together. I can only assume that other tradesfolk behave in a similar way, that chefs, builders and seamstresses do their best work for clients but adopt a more lase-fair approach to their own work. Not bodged exactly, more freestyle.

Anyway. Like the slacker that I am I never did get around to aligning those drop-outs and as sure as night turns to day I bent the damn axle. I did it to myself. And so the long wait I had to endure to get my Number One bike back under my butt seemed like just punishment.

I was determined not to repeat my previous screw-up. Before I installed the wheel this time I made absolutely certain that the drop-outs were perfectly straight and parallel. It went back together beautifully, I bolted it up with a nice new set of track nuts and took it for a spin. Tra le la.

It works, what joy.

Africa Bike in happier times....

I pedalled backwards to slow up but instead I came to a juddering halt. I had made a fatal error, an error so elemental, so profoundly dumb that I am mortified with embarrassment as I type these words.

I had failed to bolt the torque arm to the frame. And, with the mass of my fat ass behind it the torque arm, with nowt to restrain it was sent spinning around the hub until it came to rest hard up against the seat stay. It no longer turns forward or back. I’m no expert on internally geared hubs but I think it’s fair to say that the insides are mush. Like a broom handle in the spokes or a spanner in the works, I fear this is an event which no amount of adjustment or fettling can restore. It’s new internals time.

Which puts me firmly back at square one.

Happy New Year everyone.