Copper Luck

     I've neglected this blog for a long time now.  I haven't been idle with bike projects, I have only lost the desire to photograph and write about everything I do.  It can be tiring and at times annoying.  Sometimes you just have to do stuff and not be so pretentious as to tell the whole world about it.  Haha.

     Quite a few bikes have entered my life in the past several months.  First was the Triumph road bike, which I did actually report about on here.  I have finally decided to abandon it--half out of lack of interest, half out of want for money, and half because it beat me.  You may recall I stated that the frame had some noticable damage, in the form of a bent seat stay and an out-of-alignment rear triangle.  Sadly, that wasn't all of it.  The down tube had a small dent and kink in it, and although I wasn't able to completely confirm it, I am quite certain the head tube is tweaked.  As if that wasn't enough, the fork is also bent and damaged.

     Long story short, I bought a severely bent bicycle frame.  I tried to realign the rear triangle best I could, and the best I could do was remove the bend in the seat stay.  It is still out of alignment.  The kink in the down tube and potentially tweaked head tube are beyond my experience or skill to fix.  What admittedly little research I did seemed to yield something I already kind of knew in the back of my head:  frame alignment sort of requires a lot of trial and error and unconventional and often-times home-made tools.  In fact, the infamous story associated with frame alignment is that the super secret tools of the trade are a few 2x4's and a heavy boot.

     A few months after hastily buying the Triumph I decided to get a proper road bike for my fiancee Keri.  We sold her Motobecane at the spring GABA Bike Swap in Tucson, and used that money to buy a Univega off of Craigslist.  Unfortunately, despite being overly prepared and wary of being suckered again, the Univega eventually revealed to also be a bad purchase.  Although the frame itself has no damage, it has some odd qualities and, lo and behold, the fork is bent and damaged.  I overpaid for it, and the "I can fix this!" part of my brain was louder than the "You should buy something that doesn't need any work" part.  A fork can be replaced, however, and that was our plan for a few months as it accumulated dust hanging up at work.  But eventually we decided it wasn't really worth it, and it would only be a mediocre road bike at best after we dumped more money into it than I originally paid.

Keri's Univega, which we aren't keeping.  This was almost as close as I got to "finishing" it before we decided to throw in the towel.  I put my Shimano 2300 crank that I had on my Cannondale for a while on the bike, and gave her my SunRingle sealed wheels that I've swapped around on my bikes.  Even in this picture, you can see the bent back fork.
Taken on May 2, 2014

     With disheartened spirits, a third bike caught my eye.  Or rather, a frame.  Listed for forty-five bucks on Craigslist was a deep green GT Borrego frame, fork, Tioga headset and GT stem.  The frame, although obviously scuffed from use for the past twenty years, was in relatively awesome shape.  Although perhaps a hair on the smaller side for me, I knew I could make it work.  I fell in love with it immediately and asked to meet the guy at the shop so I could inspect this thing in every possible way, and also hide from his money-hungry eyes as I took my time assessing it.  It checked out in nearly every possible way, save for an extremely slight misalignment in the rear triangle.  Nothing really to worry about, after everything is said and done.  Although the guy I bought it from was a little stiff and cold, he accepted forty dollars for it and it was mine.  Even though it has been sitting virtually untouched since that day, I am extremely anxious to build it up into a rigid, vintage mountain bike.  I've tried to buy a few parts for it on eBay, but I am either too cheap or too slow--I haven't gotten anything for it yet.  It took two bad purchases before I finally made a good one, and the adage seems to have been upheld--third time's the charm.

My 1993 GT Borrego frame.  A beauty isn't she?  I love everything about it.  Ideally I'd love to have some vintage Shimano Deore XT components and modern cantilever brakes on it, but we'll see what I can find.
Taken May 12, 2014

     A few weeks ago, Keri and I decided to renew our plans to get into the Northwest, this time with our sights set on the accessible metropolis of Portland instead of the backwater paradise that is Bend.  In doing so, I will be doing my best to sell the Triumph and Univega.  Don't worry!  I will be extremely upfront with the state of the bikes.  I'm not as worried about the Univega.  Trying to break even will be the hard part.  The Triumph, however, may end up just being donated to BICAS.  I don't feel the frame is excessively dangerous, but it is not perfect.

     Despite our freshly forged pact to save money and downsize for our move, temptation once again found its way into my world.  A few days ago I received a call from a friend and spouse of a coworker who also has a deep fascination in vintage road bikes.  A retired luthier, he cultivates an extreme attention to detail and thirst for the background knowledge of the bikes, parts, and companies of the past.  He also maintains a healthy network of contacts, fellow stewards of a bygone age of bicycle manufacturing and design, which gives him access to objects that may have not normally popped up on Craigslist or eBay.

     He called to tell me he had acquired a bike that was not only very nice and a bit unique, but was also my size.  He wanted to show it to me, and I wanted to look at it.  It turned out to be a 1983 Centurion Elite RS road bike, with an eye popping candy apple red paint job and a delicious selection of parts.  To summarize some of the highlights:

• Suntour Cyclone MkII derailleurs
• Sugino AS crank
• Suntour VX hubs with Rigida rims
• Anodized copper Dia Compe GX 500 brakes and levers
• Tange Aero headset

     The frame is made of Tange #2 tubing, an especially supple yet responsive selection of tubing.  He described the bike as being only a few steps below the top-end of Centurion's line-up.  I was immediately impressed.  Not only was the bike in very good shape--not immaculate but damn close--but it appeared to be all original, save for the wheels.  It is very hard to come by an old bike that has not been modified, and sometimes it can be hard to spot because the part that doesn't belong can very easily be just as old!

The bike that was too tempting to pass up.  Can't wait to dial it in.
Taken July 21, 2014

     The siren's song of bike-lust began to start murmuring in my head.  Although Keri and I had just agreed to not spend any superfluous money and cram every spare penny into savings, I was standing in front of a real gem.  Being a 58cm frame, it was my "official" size, a far better fit than my monstrous yet beloved 62cm Fuji S-12S.  It was in such good shape, I couldn't pass it up, but I told him I'd have to think about it.

     Keri and I talked about it that night and she wasn't keen on the idea.  Not only was I wanting to spend our precious savings, but I was going to buy another bike.  The line in the sand had been drawn, and I was right on the edge.  But thankfully, I stayed on the other side of the line, and let things simmer.  A day passed and I didn't mention it at all.  The next day I texted my friend back and he tells me that I could provide some labor and teaching to help reduce the price, and I decided I wanted to at least ride it--the tires and tubes were dry-rotted the day before.  I pulled the 27" tires and tubes off of the skeleton of my wretched Triumph hanging in the shed and headed over to his place, and we set it up.  I took it out for a somewhat long test ride, maybe a few miles on the nearby bike path.  I fell in love.  It zipped, it zoomed, it carried me swiftly and deftly.  I could accelerate with this bike in a way I rarely could on my work horse of a Fuji.  It sparkled in the sun and rolled quietly.  I wanted it.  I needed it.

     Keri agreed that I could buy it on one condition:  that I actually ride the dumb thing!  Having gotten it yesterday, I already rode it on our weekly Sunday night ride, and to work today.  It's felt great both times.  I still have to go through and clean everything, but that can wait for now.  The most pressing things--a longer seatpost, bar tape, and some brake pads newer than 1983--will be acquired soon but it is very rideable and very fun now.

     Luck finally came my way.

This Wheel's on Fire

The beginnings of an interesting wheel build.
Taken March 28, 2014

     About three months ago I finished building a pair of wheels to carry my favorite bicycle: my 1980 Fuji S12-S.  It was a little bit of a unique experience for me.  It was the first time I was building a pair of wheels completely by myself, and it was also the first time I was building wheels by myself, for myself.  As mentioned in my long ago post detailing my first true solo wheel build, I had only helped build my "first" set of wheels.  These wheels would be completely built by me, and completely for me.

     For about a year, I planned to lace modern rims to the original hubs for my Fuji.  I had prepped the hubs long ago, so the only real hang up was the cost of new rims and spokes.  I'd settled on my cheap stand-by: SunRingle rims, specifially the CR-18.  SunRingle makes inexpensive, yet effective and aesthetically pleasing rims.  They are stout and plain, just how I like most things.

     The spokes are really the hardest thing to procure for a wheel build.  They are expensive--you can't get away from that.  You can skimp on a hub and rim, but even cheap spokes add up.  Unless you own a bike shop and you're ordering straight from distributors, you're either paying too much or buying too many.  To make matters worse, I wanted this wheel build to mean something, which means I wanted decent spokes and a slightly unique lacing configuration--double butted spokes and a four-cross pattern.  Four cross means that each spoke crosses four other spokes.  This demands a longer spoke, and my spoke length calculations were telling me I was going to be needing some of the longest spokes that I could get from work.  In fact, there was one size that I could not get from work.  This was the real hang up.  I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I should do.  Then I stumbled upon a site I'd seen a long time ago, and all of that changed.

     Wheel Fanatyk is a half blog, half online store dealing exclusively in the lore, science, and distribution of wheel building.  It is a tremendous resource, if not for their product then for their knowledge.  The owners of the site are gracious and kind enough to provide custom spoke lengths at a tremendously low price!  And the spokes were actually decent!  I was overjoyed, and certain there was a catch.  But after the spokes promptly arrived, packaged and marked in an exceedingly professional manner, I realized I'd found a true gem of a resource.

     For the record, I highly recommend buying spokes from this website for your wheel builds.

     As previously mentioned, I wanted to go "all out" and so I bought spoke washers.  These "obscure bike components", as they were once described to me, are intended to seat between the spoke head and the flange of the hub shell.  My first non-solo wheel build, years ago in Indiana, used spoke washers.  To me, they were the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of a wheel build to mark it as the product of true craftsmanship.  Afterall, I hadn't seen spoke washers since I had used them.

The finished front wheel.
Taken April 19, 2014

     What I didn't know was that spoke washers are intended for 1.8mm spokes.  The spokes I had ordered were 2.0mm, because they were double butted.  That means the spokes I had bought forever ago were only single butted!  I was tremendously confused, and eventually had to accept the fact that my memory left out that detail.  Luckily, spoke washers are still recommended for lacing the old Sturmey-Archer hubs with modern spokes, so I will be able to use my small pile of washers for that build, whenever it may happen.

     Once I had everything gathered, I set to work lacing the wheel.  The catch, this time, was that I intended to do as much of the build completely by myself as I could--that means no instructions, no guides, no books.  Just me, a hub, thirty-six spokes and a rim.  Overall I did a pretty good job.  I did have to consult my latest wheel book, "The Bicycle Wheel" by Jobst Brandt, only a few times.  Revered as the wheel builder's bible, it's goal is to dispel the mythos surrounding the bicycle wheel with the hard steel of an engineer's overly analytical mind.  It is worth a quick read by any serious bike mechanic.  Depending on one's pre-existing skill and knowledge level, it may not shed much light but it will undoubtedly contain some useful nuggets of information.

The finished wheels.  Ignore the poor photography.
Taken April 19, 2014

     Lacing the wheel is, in my opinion, not the hard part of building a wheel.  It is basically a puzzle, and with enough time I think anyone could figure it out, if they wanted to.  After the last nipple is threaded onto the last spoke, the second part of the wheel build can begin:  the tensioning.  This is where practice can manifest into skill and intuition can potentially make your day better.  I had a little bit of a time tensioning these wheels.  The front wheel turned out alright, but the rear wheel gave me some trouble.  Somewhere in the process of bringing up the tension on each spoke in a uniform manner, consistency left me and a handful of spokes were off by quite a bit.  I had to bring down the tension on everything and basically start over.  But I got it.

     In the end I got a pair of nice wheels.  I've been riding them for about three months now with no issues.  I haven't checked the tension on the wheels yet but I feel that when I do they will not be too far off.  The final step in the whole process was mounting my brand new tires.  Before this, I had been riding Continental Gatorskins for nearly 3 years--almost as long as I've been working on bikes!  I love the Gatorskin and always recommend it as a quality 700c road tire, as most mechanics will.  But I had decided to change it up this time, and get something a little more appropriate for my touring frame and commuter bike.  I went with the Continental Touring Plus.  Still having the extreme puncture resistance that is built into the Gatorskin, these tires sport a more all-terrain tread pattern, are wider, and have a reflective sidewall.  I can say that I am exceedingly happy with my choice.  I will probably never put a different tire on my Fuji.

The finished rear wheel.
Taken April 19, 2014

     I really want to say that the new wheels feel different.  I want to say that I can feel the strength and responsiveness of the new wheels.  I don't know if I can say that honestly.  What I can say with complete certainty, however, is that I ride with an overwhelming satisfaction on the wheels I built with my own two hands.