Monday, October 19, 2009

Divine Intervention.



It's been a bit rainy here in Shreveport. Rainy enough to loosen the roots of two 100 year old red oak trees and down them into our and the neighbor's yards/house totaling two cars, damaging structure and taking electricity and cable with them in their downfall.

On top of all that madness, the rear wheel of my Franklin was severally dented in one of the obscenely large pot-holes that Louisiana roads are notorious for. On a seventeen mile ride through various neighborhoods and downtown Shreveport I did not see the gaping hole in the darkness until I was upon it. I knew immediately there was a problem as I could both feel and hear the back-wheel rubbing the pads on its caliper brake. I was able to true it back up but as of yet am unable to correct the dent that has it out of round.


It's a little hard to see, but the dent is directly above the middle spoke hole.


Looks small but it has a pronounced feel while riding.
I am still riding it while I plan on how to attack this. I was just planning on removing that individual spoke and hitting it with a hammer, but I believe that even a brass hammer is probably to much for the aluminum rim which means I would have to buy a plastic one.

To true the wheel I used a coin shaped universal spoke wrench which I have seen much maligned elsewhere on the internet. 


It was my first time using it and I thought it performed quite well. It might not be up to the standards of someone accostomed to expensive precision tools, but I am used to making due with less.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The Ravages of Neglect and Poverty; beggars can't be choosers.


I have a beautiful Franklin road bike. This bike is so beautiful that I would never have been able to afford it (I can barely afford to keep it on the road). The luck of my ownership of it I owe entirely to the laziness of a former roomate. In college I had a short lived roomate of about three months. He brought with him to my apartment his stepfather's old Franklin equipped with exotic, intimidating names like Cinelli and Campagnolo. It sat in our living room completely unused on flat tubular tires because he would always rather ride the racing Haro BMX bicycle he bought when we were in grade school. At the end of his tenure as my roomate (he dropped out of school) he moved to Dallas TX and told me I could have it because he didn't feel like moving it back with him. I let it go further neglected fearing it's exotic nature (it's components all bore the above mentioned brand names of refined Italian breeding), choosing instead the cheap safety of my yellow Goodwill cruiser.

Upon my depressing return to Shreveport Louisiana I found myself struggling to get around it's hilly neighborhoods on this same extremely heavy cruiser. I realized I needed something lighter in weight, something with gears for my coffee shop trips and I had this Franklin just laying around that was the lightest bike I had ever handled so I took to it and have only rarely, on flat roads, looked back to to my cruiser.




It's lightness and gears have liberated me here but I have found new struggles with it in trying to afford to keep it on the road. For all the neglect it has suffered it has paid me back in need of parts and maintenance. I am well aware of the debate between the impassioned riders of both clinchers and tubular tires but their arguments have rarely included price. The Franklin has had three flats since I brought it here and each has cost my sorry unemployed self thirty dollars apiece. All concern for ride quality or rolling resistance have gone out the window with the bitter knowledge that if I'd had clinchers these flats would only have cost me three dollars for new inner tubes.

Another recent potential financial burden came in the form of its brake hoods. The original gum hoods on its Campagnolo Record non-aero brake levers were UV damaged, dry rotted, and falling apart (as gum hoods are so apparently prone to do). The only thing I was keeping them on with was yellow electrical tape.



I searched for new replacement brake hoods. They were available by order at my LBS, in black rubber only, for nearly sixty dollars. Completely ignoring the expense I was unwilling to accept, I did not think black was a fitting color to compliment its navy frame and canary yellow tape and housing. I searched and found some NOS brown gum hoods but they were equally expensive. I was assured by the website that these NOS hoods were "show quality," but my bike is going to be ridden not be on display. These were unacceptably expensive solutions so instead I bought some cheap brown Cane Creek brake hoods:



They are obviously not a perfect fit, but they work. They are ridable and more aesthetically pleasing than the rot covered in electrical tape that they replaced. Plus, I saved fifty four dollars over the new or NOS alternatives. Now I only hope that its fantastic Benotto Cellotape holds up because I can accept no substitutions for it.