Resurrectio

Once in a while I get to do a project which is especially enjoyable and rewarding. When Mike came in and rode the Rivendell Hillborne, I'm not sure if he was aware of the connection between Rivendell and Bridgestone but the test ride was an eye opener for him. We started talking and he told me he had a Bridgestone X0-2 in his garage, and we discussed fixing that up to make it ride like a new bike. The bike had been a little neglected but was generally sound.

The drive train was shot and he needed new chain, bottom bracket, crankset and cassette. The rear wheel had been replaced recently but the front wheel and hub were fine after cleaning and lubing. We also put on new tires, a new Nitto stem so he could raise the handlebars, new brake hoods and bar tape. Not too bad for a well used 17 year old bike.

First though, we stripped the bike and he took it to a local painter to get the frame powdercoated. I think the color he picked is great.

Facing the head tube

After facing the bottom bracket shell I cleaned up the threads.

New drive train and Schwalbe Big Apple tires

I bought the "Resurrectio" decals from rivbike.com

The finished bike looks pretty good, I think.

I really like the shape of the original Nitto handlebars.

The thing that's so satisfying is working on a product which was made to last the first time and  is still worth putting some time and effort and money into 17 years later. He paid as much to fix the bike up as he paid for it new, and now the bike is good for another 17 years.  That seems like a good definition of value to me.

There are more photos on Flickr

Oregon Handmade Bicycle Show '09

We were in Portland  November 1 for the '09 Oregon Handmade Bicycle show, mostly to try to hawk some Zimbale bags, but also to see what the denizens of this Northwest bicycle hub are up to. This show was so much more energizing than was Interbike. The exhibitors and the attendees who were here are fascinated by bicycles and their many uses.

All the bikes were steel or ti with some carbon forks here and there. Some frames were left "raw", without paint, like Rivendell has done on some bikes. Many of the bikes were obviously "riders", with dirt and scuffed paint. Many different types of racks.... custom, integrated with the bike, integrated with the bike and fenders (Ti Cycles Fabrication), and a very cool cargo bike with a front rack attached to the frame and not to the steering (by Ahearne). He wants to make this a production bike. I remember Ahearne from the NAHBS in Portland a couple years ago as one of my favorites, and he had a customer's bike here which looks just about right.

Cielo is a bicycle making company put together by Chris King. Their entry in the Oregon Manifest Constructor's Design Challenge was extremely well thought out.

Jan Heine of Bicycle Quarterly writes about this event in the winter '09 issue, and he compares it with the trials in France in the 1930's. These events were like a brevet in that a minimum speed was to be maintained over the three stages and 460 km. But, the bikes were penalized if they exceeded a certain weight and they were penalized at the end for any malfunction. This bred an enormous amount of innovation. It's really exciting to see a revival of an event like this in the US!

Mitch Pryor from Map Bicycles was there with a custom bike using a mix of new and old. He makes simple look easy and that's hard.

Andy Newlands from Strawberry Bicycles puts this show on and he had a booth showing his bikes. He has been making bikes here for many years, and he knows how to do it right.

Self Indulgence

In the '90's and early 2000's I used to show up at the start line of most of the local road races. I even participated in some of the races. That is to say, as more than pack fodder. I had a lot of fun and met some great people. I thought then and I still think now that anybody who wants to race a bicycle on the road has a character flaw. It's incredibly hard and the hours needed to be competitive preclude a lot of other activities. My wife is happy I no longer race.
Anyways, I was thinking about some of the more successful years I had racing, and I realized they were aboard my Serotta Colorado Legend TG bike. A very fine steel frame. It wasn't the lightest bike, but I was always convinced the geometry and tube configuration on this bike gave it an efficiency that made up for a little extra weight.
I bought the bike at Moo Cycles. In 2005 I bought the shop and named it Hyde Park Cycle Sports. And now the shop has evolved into one that carries steel bicycles predominantly. That seems like some sort of full circle coming.


At the start of the 2003 Birds of Prey Road Race.
Testosterone so thick, you can taste it.
















The return leg of the Birds of Prey race. Very cold and very windy. Tucked in safely as is my usual strategy




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The Eagle Hills Circuit Race. Designed by a real sadist. Too many laps with two sharp climbs per lap
















Bicycle road racing has the potential to be as much fun as one can have without laughing. It is a huge rush to fly along at 30 and 40 M.P.H. close enough to touch elbows with the rider next to you, and with people just as close in front of you and behind you. Part of the thrill is the fear...there is not much cushion from the blacktop in those lycra clothes.... and the survival level concentration. As long as everybody is a decent bike handler and of about equal abilities, the peleton is like one organism. Like a flock of birds or a school of fish, the shape of which constantly changes, but stays cohesive. At least until the repeated hard efforts start to thin the herd.

The religion of bike racing requires followers to observe certain daily rituals. Eating is an exercise in getting the right balance of protein, fat and carbohydrate in the optimal amounts. One must submit to the bicycle, with differing degrees of intensity, every day. And don't forget recovery and sleep! Eat, ride, sleep and repeat.

No racing for me anymore. Now it's back to the roots! Loaded touring!

Nitto/Berthoud project

I've been wanting to use a small pair of panniers on my front rack with my Berthoud front bag for bike touring. Because this guy looks cool. And I want to be like him. I don't like his handlebar bag though. Too high.

A constructeur type rack with a solid attachment, to more than just the dropout eyelets and the fender, I thought. I have a Nitto Campee front rack here and the side low rider mounts are removabale, so why not take them off and use that?

The Campee comes with stays to attach to cantilever brake studs, but I was able to get some 150mm stays and attach them to the mid fork braze-ons on my bike.

A standard rack mount bracket will become the new light mount. It screws into the holes where the low rider mounts were. I simply need to cut it off, grind a nice smooth radius on the end, and attach the light

The rack sits lower than if it were attached to the canti studs, but this is what I was after. I used a p-clamp to attach the fender to the rack, mostly to keep the fender from rattling and to hold it a little higher off the front tire.








But wait.... will the light clear the Berthoud panniers?





Oh Yah!!!
Now, the Berthoud panniers use the Rixen Kaul Klik-Fix attachment which appears to be very solid. But the red, spring loaded retainer clips protrude above the top of the bag and the rack. Since I want to use the top rack mounted Berthoud bag in conjunction, I probably need to cut off the protruding portion of the clips. I think it should still work fine.


Since I'm pretty sure nobody who has read this far will be able to sleep until they see how this turns out, I will post the final results forthwith. Or pretty soon, anyway.

The Long Road to a Sensible Bike Ride

Words and photos by Linda Paul

My history with bicycles has been troubled. When other kids on the block had shiny red trikes, I had an absurd hot wheels contraption, propelled not by legs but by arms. By the time I’d graduated to a trike, the other kids were whizzing about on diminutive two-wheelers. Mom’s solution was to offer me her ancient, adult-sized bike with a heehaw horn and huge fenders humped over balloon tires. She dolled up this behemoth with a coat of leftover, Forest Service green car paint complete with paintbrush fur. Somewhere she scrounged up training wheels and sent me on my way. With the seat adjusted as low as it would go, I could push the upper pedal down and hope to catch the lower pedal on its way up. For months, I teetered from one training wheel to the other, as mortified by my incompetence at mastering two-wheeled spinning as I was by the outrageous appearance of my ride.

While I wobbled, my best friend graduated to an adult-sized, three-speed with metallic paint and thin, delicate tires. One summer afternoon, she took pity on me and resurrected her kiddy bike. With my tush on the seat, my feet touched pavement on both sides of the bike. Miraculous! Terry launched me down the sidewalk with a firm push and yelled to pedal like hell. I did__for the next four hours! When I staggered into the house for dinner that night, I felt like Neil Armstrong returning to Apollo 11 after his “giant leap for mankind.” My legs pedaled even as I slept.

My next bike was a stylish, metallic-turquoise, three-speed, which I admired the way a teenaged boy admires his first car. Unfortunately, a sweet ride couldn’t compensate for my short attention span. One day while riding a nice quiet residential street, I forgot to pay attention to where I was going; as my eyes strayed to the left, my bike headed for the rear end of a parked car. I extricated myself from the heap of flesh, metal, and broken tail light on the pavement. The sharp end of the brake lever had dug a hole in my thigh and scooped out chunks of something yellowish, which my fright interpreted as bone, but turned out to be nothing more than baby fat.

When I was in junior high, we moved several miles out of town. The only way connect with my brat pack was via my beautiful three-speed. The first mile and half of our pot-hole-pitted gravel road vibrated my delicate three-speed into a quivering mass of loose bolts.

During college my bike was my transportation. One night on the way home from work, the bike and I collided with a car. I came to in the bright dazzle of the emergency room with a nurse dabbing at my bloody skull. The bike survived this scrape only to be stolen a year later from in front of my apartment where I’d momentarily leaned it against the tree that we usually chained up to.

Years went by during which I owned sleek 10 speed bikes designed to conjure images of Tour de France victory. My high-strung racers were both literal and figurative pains in the ass, with chains slipping, gears jamming, and thin-skinned tires puncturing. Unavoidable puddles painted a donkey stripe up my backside. The dropped handlebars accentuated the unforgiving little racer’s seat; my shoulders and neck ached from craning upward to see where I was going.

Eagerly I followed the next fad to a utilitarian, fat-tired, 15-speed mountain bike with wide-stance handlebars. But the euphoria of the downhill glide was never enough to compensate for the uphill slog and the extra gears merely provided five more chances for a displaced chain. This bike spent most of its life hanging upside down in the garage, making occasional jaunts down the greenbelt when I would dream of a softer seat and even higher handlebars.

In the mid 1990’s I downsized and vowed to bike more and drive less. I invested in a sturdy commuter bike with fenders, built-in head and tail lights, and a cushy seat that invited an upright, European style posture. I smugly pedaled my Breezer to work more days of the year than I drove and stuffed the dual panniers with everything from boxed wine to kitty litter. Proud as I was of my Breezer, I still considered it more a form of transportation than of recreation.

Imagine my surprise when my beloved presented me with a bike in honor of my retirement! Did I want a bike? I already had a perfectly fine bike. But here it was, a finely crafted, steel Nishiki mixte. What is a mixte, I wondered? Why steel? It’s not even new! But it was a lovingly restored homage to mid-80’s bike technology, outfitted with light weight, quality components from Hyde Park Cycle Sports in Boise’s North End. So, began a wary new phase of bicycling. For starters, my new bike deserved a name. Her dusty-rose color and light-hearted response reminded me of a wonderful old mare we had when I was a kid. Pinky was a tall, slender, rose tinted palomino. She was a mature gal when we acquired her, as gentle and dependable as a St. Bernard, yet light on her feet, and willing to run like the wind with a well-anchored rider. My new, recycled Nishiki rides just like Pinky.

I’ve learned lots about bikes in the past few months. I even attended a Grant Petersen seminar hosted by Hyde Park Cycle Sports. After the seminar I joined a group of cycle enthusiasts to ride with Grant and shop owner, Jim Powers. It is a blessing that my companion, Don, is a Rivendell fan because many of the reasons that I formerly disdained “biking” were due to the manic hype of biking trends: the Lycra, the cleats, the aerodynamic, neck-twisting hunch. The Rivendell model appeals to my desire for simplicity and common sense. Now I understand the reasons why my former biking experiences were more excruciating than fun. As the fit of the boot is essential to skiing, so is the fit of the bike to all the pedaling to come. Why contort the human body into unnatural positions? If a seat__oh, I’ve learned it’s a saddle!__feels like an enema or rubs your nether parts raw, there’s a reason; poor fit or poor integration with the other components of your ride. Price does not dictate comfort. Weight does not dictate comfort__although on a long ride light feels right. You will ride your bike more often if you can hop on wearing the clothes you have on at the moment__that, I already knew!


There’s much more that I don’t know about bicycles, which is okay. I’ve picked up the important part, the Rivendell sensibility. In mid-July, Don, on his A. Homer Hilson and I, on Pinky, did a “Sideways by Bike” tour of Idaho’s Snake River Valley wine country. As far as we know, this is a first in Idaho. The wineries here are spread out and isolated. Few roads are bike-friendly. The weekend we picked just happened to usher in the first triple-digit temperatures of the season. We carried minimal gear, but lots of water. We paid $29.16 for one night in a motel, ate delicious local food at unpretentious eateries, and traveled 96 miles in two very hot days. What’s most impressive is that Pinky and I are looking forward to the next trip!

Accentuate The Positive!

We went to see Steve Earle at the Egyptian Theater last week. He is a powerhouse. He played without stopping for over two hours. He said that he records a lot and tours a lot, and this year, fewer people are coming out to the shows. A sign of the times. He made a point to thank everybody who was there and to say how much he appreciated every ticket.

I was going over my customer reports this morning and I realized that I have a number of customers who have been in dozens of times and who have spent a significant amount of money over the last year and a half. I want to take this opportunity to thank them. I appreciate the time they take out of their day to come down here. I appreciate every dollar they spend during the worst economic downturn in a lifetime.

Even though they may be able to get things for less money on line or from some other source, they realize the real, long term cost to them may actually be less. For example, a person who has spent some time and money in my store will probably get that rack or set of fenders or dynamo light kit installed for free. Their bikes should get priority when they need service. (I'll work on that ;-) We are usually able to foresee compatability issues, and if we make a mistake in that regard, we will fix it. We take care of warranty issues with manufacturers for all our customers. We issue a punch card when a customer buys $50.00 worth of parts or accessories, and they get a punch for each $50.00 spent at one time. After 10 punches they get a $40.00 discount on the next $50.00 purchase. This amounts to an 8% discount for loyal customers.

You know who you are. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

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What this country needs is a good country bike.

(Words by Grant Petersen, reprinted by permission, pictures are of my

Rivendell A. Homer Hilsen)

"Road bike has come to mean a racing style bike, with minimal usefulness outside the peleton. Mountain bike has come to mean technological whiz-bang bike for the inner bad boy. City bike means cheap bike with tacky accessories wrapped up in a boring package.

Touring bike has been used before, and conjures up an image of loading up your bike and hitting the road. Touring can be fun, but it's a hard image to sell.

What hasn't been used is country bike. "Country" can mean lots of different things, from tree lined streets in the suburbs to un-maintained county roads to woods, forests and trails. Whatever "country" means to anybody, it's always just a little more pleasant than what you're used to, and more accessible and believable than racing, or mountains and high adventure.

A country bike....Should look like a road bike, soft, with curves, and nice proportions. The handlebars don't have to be drop bars, but they should have curves, because straight-bar bikes look severe and don't feel right.

Could be any old wheel size, but heck, let's nominate 650b (584mm) as the front runner. It lacks the gonzo history of 26 inch (559mm) and the go-fast image of 700c (622mm) It was developed for touring the country roads in France and that's the image we want. There's no weird baggage there, no performance history.

A country bike should be made for 32mm to 42mm tires. That's between modern road and mountain. It should fit these tires with fenders.

It should have brakes that can be released enough to make tire installation and removal easy, or at least not hard. Cantilevers and centerpulls are fine. We could use a sidepull or other style too, but except for some bmx models, nothing exists. (note: now, thanks to Grant, long reach, wider sidepull brakes do exist)

It should be ready for racks.

You should be able to get the handlebars at least 2 cm above the height of the saddle, without resorting to extreme retrofits. The bike should look right. I don't know if the industry as a whole is willing or able to go back to threaded steer tubes, but they continue to make sense, especially for a country bike.

If you're thinking, an old touring bike or pre-suspension mountain bike can do these things, just retrofit them with appropriate handlebars, you're right, but you can't launch a revolution with old soldiers like that. Without a new category, country bikes will stay nameless, and largely underground, with small numbers of bike riders making up their own bikes this way.

The category will make it happen in the mainstream, and that's what's needed to do the most good for everybody. When the volume can support it, we'll get new parts, better availability for everybody.

For the new category to happen, it will need the support of at least one big parts maker (guess who that'd be) and one manufacturer with volume and some vision. That's the tough part."

This is the Zimbale brand 11 liter saddlebag. Made of waterproof cotton canvas, with leather straps and reinforcements. It hangs on the loops of a Brooks saddle.

The battery powered, fender mounted light is by Spanninga, a Dutch maker. The fenders are Honjo aluminum.

Schmidt Nabendynamo hub and Schmidt E6 headlight.

A proper English racer

We just finished the build on what is one of my favorite bikes to leave the shop. 52cm Rivendell Hillborne. Nitto B602 bars. 650b wheels, with Panaracer Col de la Vie tires. Single chainring and 8 speed cassette. Old Suntour shifter mounted to Paul Thumbie. Gilles Berthoud (jill brr2) stainless steel fenders. Bikes don't look right to me anymore without fenders. Brooks B17, green. If riding this bike doesn't put a smile on your face, you don't have a soul.

The only thing missing, in my opinion is the sweet Velo Orange chainguard, but some mounting details need to be worked out. If I can get that sorted out, I will post further photos for your edification.

A couple weeks ago a gentleman came in looking for a Tubus brand bicycle rack. He found our store on the Tubus website, because, well, we are a dealer. He walked out with a Surly Long Haul Trucker bicycle outfitted with two Surly Nice Racks, fenders and the sweetest lighting system ever. I want to talk about the light system, and I can, because this is my blog. I laced a new rim to a Schmidt Nabendynamo Son 28 hub. I have this hub on two of my bikes and on my wife's Bleriot. They are bombproof and they have only a nominal amount of drag when the lights are switched off. The system is not much if any heavier than a rechargeable battery and light system, but it is much more dependable, and, with an led light the illumination is competitive with all but the most expensive battery powered systems out there. So, even 24 hour cross country racers are using it. This customer had us wire a Schmidt Edelux headlight and a B&M DToplight taillight to the hub. Not every shop can say they have a Tufts University man working in their shop. This had better work Ryan!

Mounted on the fork crown brake bolt hole.

Peter White Cycles imports these and other fine lights. We buy from him and are able to charge the same retail prices, so, if you live near Boise and want to keep your money in the local economy, give us a call. 208-336-5229

Stacy, with her Bleriot.

Lucky Peak

One of the things about being a bicycle rider, and not a "cyclist" is that I have started to think in terms of using the bicycle as a means to an end. As a "cyclist", there are always demands and expectations, those we put on ourselves and those we imagine other people have for us. As a bicycle rider, suddenly, it is more about how to accomplish something using the bicycle. Then the bicycle ride and the thing we are doing, both become one thing, and are transformed, and the experience is totally new. For example, we decided to take a picnic basket out to Lucky Peak and have dinner. So, we loaded the goods on the Paul Components basket on my Surly Cross Check single speed, and rode out there. When the mosquitos started coming out we loaded up and rode back home. It was a nice little adventure, and it didn't take a lot of planning or time. I think we will do it again!

Organic Brewers' Festival, Portland

Last weekend I went, with my wife, and my son and daughter and their friends, to the North American Organic Brewers' festival at Overlook Park in Portland, OR. Portland is one of my favorite cities. People ride bikes everywhere here, and there are a ton of breweries. How could it get any better? Part of what makes it a nice city is the public transportation. It's convenient and cheap. It works because their is a critical population mass in a small area. There is a lot of controversy surrounding Portland's Urban Growth Boundary, but it is undeniable that the inner city is vibrant, because there is no choice but to work with the existing infrastructure for living and working. This means that a lot of neighborhoods that would otherwise be blighted are gentrified. I guess this is good or bad depending on one's own situation.
But back to the festival. there were 80 different ales, lagers and ciders from breweries all over the Northwest, Vermont, Idaho (Grand Teton Brewing in Victor) Wisconsin and Colorado as well as Europe. This is just one of the bike racks outside the brewers' festival. Portland may not be Amsterdam but lots of people use their bikes here. Downtown, some of the parking lanes on the side of the streets are blocked at either end and designated for bicycles, and there are bike lanes with their own signal lights!

This is a picnic pavilion in Overlook Park. It is supremely overbuilt. I don't know how long it's been here, but it will be here for a very long time. Why spend the time and money on something like this? Maybe the initial expense, amortized over the life of the structure, makes this the best way to build something. But it goes against the throw-away culture we live in. I'm just sayin'.

Boise Bike Week

Last month, Grant Petersen was in town to talk about the bikes his company, Rivendell Bicycle Works, produces. We had a good turnout and the talk was informative and entertaining. Many people I have spoken with since, said they wanted to be there but couldn't, for one reason or another. That's what I get for scheduling it on Mother's Day! Anyway, we had a real nice ride after the event,too.

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The next day was the first day of Boise Bike Week and 170+ people showed up at the shop to participate in the night ride. Last year we had about 40! Thanks to Treasure Valley Cycling Alliance for all their hard work in organizing these events throughout the week

Nice bike shoes, Grant!