Aluminum Triangles, Part 1

     Of all the bikes in my current stable, I have had my 1985 Cannondale SR500 the longest.  I got the bike in the summer of 2009 after telling my dad that I wanted a road bike.  He actually had a lead onto one, and reclaimed this bike from my uncle.  My dad had received the bike as payment for some machining work he'd done, but having no use for the bike, and it being too small for his 6'5" frame, he gave it to his oldest brother.  Luckily for me, my uncle hardly rode it and didn't seem to put up a fight when my dad took it back.  Lo and behold, I got my hands on it and looking back I consider myself extremely lucky for that.

     It is a 58cm frame, which is the "perfect" frame size for me according to a bicycle fit kit that I used to measure myself.  Personally I have my doubts, but maybe that comes from riding my monstrous and certainly too-large-for-me 62cm Fuji.  Aside from that, the bike has a very aggressive riding geometry.  This is most easily distinguished by the very small wheelbase.  The wheelbase of the bike is the measurement from axle to axle.  Although the frames differ quite a bit proportionally, as a comparison the Cannondale's wheelbase is roughly 99cm.  My Fuji is about 106.6cm.  7cm may not seem like a lot but if you consider the "size" of the frames are only 4cm apart, that may help convey the difference.  Hopefully this photo below will help illustrate that.  Looking at the gap between the rear wheel and the seat tube is a quick and easy way to get an approximation of just how "aggressive and twitchy" or "long and stable" a frame is.

Left:  The Fuji.  Note the gap between the edge of the tire and the seat tube.
Right:  The Cannondale.  Wow that's tight isn't it?  Quite a difference.
Taken on August 16, 2014

     I don't normally speak too much about frame geometry because, well, I have a hard time detecting the differences between frames.  It probably comes from the fact that I am not much of a rider, but personally I'd like to think it comes from my "deal with it" attitude.  Frame geometry is definitely something some riders like to complain about when they think the machine is holding them back.

     But I mention it with the Cannondale because, well, I notice it.  This bike is very zippy and accelerates quickly.  This is a characteristic of the wheel being so far forward and under the saddle and rider, which is made visible by the very small gap between tire and seat tube.  I also mention it because it was something even my dad had noticed shortly after we started working on the bike, and it stuck in my head.  Maybe it was because I was intrigued by the notion that all bike frames aren't identical, or maybe it's because I was impressed that a man who hadn't worked on bikes professionally in nearly 15 years could recall something so seemingly abstract.  Just a fun little nugget of nostalgia.

     It's kind of funny because I can remember saying "I want a road bike, but I don't want road bike handlebars."  My dad probably wondered what I was thinking, but he agreed that "road bike handlebars" weren't for me so we set out to turn the bike into what he kept calling a "city bike."  First stop, Ike's Bikes, the local bike shop that would eventually hire me.  This first visit to the bike shop was undoubtedly my first stepping stone towards my current career.

     I remember standing there quietly as my dad spoke with the man who would eventually become my boss, asking what was available to order and what would work with the bike.  I was surprised that my dad was asking for help.  He knew vaguely what we needed, but he wasn't able to walk in and say "I need this exact part."  That was unexpected to me.  Afterall, my dad used to run a bike shop!  He used to work on bikes all the time!  How could he not know exactly what we needed?  Well, the fact is that he had been out of the industry for a long time.  He forgot things, and things changed.  After we got everything squared away, we got back in the car and I'll never forgetting my dad saying "I like the guy who runs that shop.  He really knows his stuff."  That recognition would probably go on to subconsciously serve me a year later when I was employed there.

The earliest photo I have of the bike in it's "Frankenstein" phase.  This was taken behind Ike's Bikes, on the first day I rode my bike into work.  I got there about 20 minutes early so I decided to take a picture of my mount.
Taken on May 8, 2010

     My dad decided a lot had to change on the bike for it to be the "city bike" I wanted.  We of course replaced the drop bars with flat bars, but we also replaced the downtube friction shifters with some low-end Shimano handlebar-mounted lever shifters.  We put some interesting mountain bike brake levers on the bike which had extensions for climbing bar-ends.  The crank was my introduction to Shimano's Biopace, which were non-circular, elliptical chainrings that Shimano produced for a number of years in the 80's and 90's.  My dad promptly had us remove it.  We replaced that crank with a much newer Shimano LX mountain bike crank that he had lying around.  We also replaced the Suntour Cyclone 6000 rear derailleur with a modern Shimano Tourney rear derailleur.  Although the Suntour Cyclone 6000 seems to have been reviled a bit back in the day, it is certainly nicer than the sheet metal and plastic Tourneys of today!  My only guess as to why we replaced it was to accommodate a larger freewheel, effectively creating a mountain bike drive train on my aggressive road racing Cannondale.  My dad's affinity for mountain bikes must have run deep.  We saved the wheels, thankfully, and mounted a pair of brand new Continental Ultra-Sports.  In the end, what I had was quite an ugly frankenstein bike, but it was my bike and I thought it was great.

The second earliest photo I have of the bike.
Taken on June 20, 2010

     I had the bike like this for quite a while.  It was a bit of a revelation for me, because I had never spent a lot of time on a real road bike before.  Most of my riding up to that point had been on knobby mountain bike tires, on both pavement and dirt, and I didn't really know anything different.  Having the ability to roll so smoothly, and on larger wheels, really helped me feel fast and nimble.  I rode it for the rest of the summer, but decided to leave it home during my great trip West that year.  I reasoned a mountain bike was truly all-terrain and may benefit me where a road bike would not.  I was right.

     After I came home and weathered a miserable, unemployed winter, I got back on the bike in the spring.  One day, while riding with friends on the local bike path, I heard an odd twanging sound.  Lo and behold, I had broken a spoke!  Looking back, this would be a precursor to the problems those wheels gave me until I chopped all of the spokes off and saved the hubs, but for the time being it had another purpose.  I went to my dad, who told me that we needed new spokes.  "Go down to Ike's and hand him your spokes.  He'll measure them and give you the right ones."

     Nervous and timid from a winter locked inside, I reluctantly drove down to the bike shop.  With spokes in hand, I opened the door and was met with a shout.  "That young man right there!  He is the one I need to hire!"  Confused and bewildered, I timidly walked up to the counter, behind the customer who was currently being helped.  I had applied to the bike shop in the fall, but hadn't heard from them.  No wonder, as a Midwestern winter is not the time to ride bikes for anyone but the most dedicated and crazed of people.  The man in front of me finished his business and left, and I stepped forward.

     "Um, I need some spokes," I said as I awkwardly thrust my hand out, handing the spokes over.  The expression on his face changed a little, and he takes them.  Walking into the back, he said,

     "So, would you like to have a job?"