Bicycle Repair Man !!

Fixie Fun

Received email from an old bike pal in New Jersey – Don Harrower. He used to race Cat 4 in the ‘80s, then had back surgery and couldn’t ride a normal bike for years - then became the hard core recumbent commuter. Ironically, to a Honda car dealership, where he’s been a mechanic for decades.

Over the years his back has healed enough to take the old race bike out occasionally, though kayaking is his main gig now.

We used to ride dirt motorcycles together in the '70s, then bicycles later in the '80s.

Anyway - the email....

"Speaking of cars and bikes, I had a freaky car accident back in October. We were driving in NYC near the West Side Highway, going through a green light when a cyclist blasts into my left front fender landing on my windshield. He said he didn’t notice the red light on his street. He was very lucky, didn’t get hurt or do any damage to his fixed gear road bike. I don’t know how those guys can ride fixed gear bikes in city traffic, but you see them all the time. He did smash my windshield , but I was glad he was okay."

Nice. Nothing like having a little fun with the Fixie Hipsters.

I'm all for people getting on bikes - any kind of bike. However, I always thought riding a fixed gear in traffic is a little loopy - especially with no brakes. I see quite a few Fixes in the Seattle area. Don't get me wrong, some of the bikes are damn cool. Adding a front brake won't make it any less cool - really.

Everybody ride safe out there.

Personal Rides: Raleigh Competition

I picked this bike up in 1984 or 1985, probably 1985 – will have to wait for the carbon dating test on my brain to be sure. At the time, I was riding my mountain bike a fair amount and wanted a road bike. One of my bike shop pals, Dave Cohen, offered to sell me his slightly used Raleigh Competition frame with a few additional parts tossed into the deal – old Campagnolo crankset and shifters, Weinmann brakes and levers, and a beater set of wheels with Campy hubs and rims that I no longer remember.

The frame was an early ‘80s Japanese Raleigh, lugged with Reynolds 531 tubing. Smell the steel. I grabbed parts from various sources, including Bike Nashbar and Performance. This was before the Internet and mail order was sort of new for the bike industry. This was also before indexed shifting and you could run any sort of shifter and derailleur combo and it worked fine – and 6 speeds was plenty. I added Suntour Cyclone derailleurs and pedals, Selle Italia Turbo saddle (in suede!), cables and whatever else was missing - and had myself a nice road bike.

Later, I replaced the flexy Campagnolo crank for a Suntour Cyclone crank, and the beater wheelset for a new pre-built wheelset with Suntour Cyclone hubs and Mavic rims. This bike had a great ride with the classic steel feel, slightly flexible, but smooth. Being the standard design for the time with plenty of clearance, could also run fatter tires for more comfort. One of my riding loops had a short section of dirt road and this bike felt great on it.

I bought a cycling book by Greg LeMond during this era and changed my position, as per Greg’s set up – using a string and bob to set saddle set back and saddle height as per leg length. Wound up raising my saddle at least an inch and farther back on the rails. It felt perfect and I still use this position 20+ years later. I also picked up my first pair of racing shoes at Cyclesport in Park Ridge, New Jersey - complete with cleats for toe strap pedals. I still have the shoes in a box at home, as well as the Cyclesport cycling cap the sales guy threw in for free. Oh yeah - and the Greg LeMond book.

This bike introduced me to longer distance rides at a much faster clip then the mountain bike. That feeling of speed you only get on a nice road bike - skinny tires singing on the pavement, hands on the brake hoods, elbows bent, scenery buzzing by as you - the motor - power the whole experience.

A few rides on this bike stand out in my memory. One where I left the house for a quick ride – dressed only in bike shorts - no shirt, no water, no food and no money. The “quick ride” turned out to be a 40+ mile ride during the hot, humid New Jersey summer. Even so, when I returned home, I felt fantastic and was psyched that I rode from Mount Arlington to Hackettstown and back. At that time, 40 miles seemed far and nothing felt better then doing it under your own power. I still have that feeling now on rides and maybe that contributes to why I never get tired of riding.

The other riding memory from that era involved a ride with a flat and a long walk. I was about 15 miles from the house and flatted – no big deal, except my spare tube was toast and my patch kit glue was dried up. I somehow got the patch to stick for a few minutes at a time, stopping to pump the tire up to rideable pressure a few times. Eventually it was useless, so I started to walk home.

After a few miles, walking in my fancy new racing shoes became torture – so I continued home in my socks. Probably walked about 5 miles total, enough to make sure I had everything needed to fix a flat the next time. Before the flat, I also had some BMX kids chase me, yelling “Hey, Racer Dude”. I put my head down and took off, thinking it would be pretty lame if they caught me.

They didn’t catch me.

I rode this bike from 1985 to 1991, then sold it to a co-worker pal after I replaced it with a Bridgestone RB-1. Paul Bartley, who bought the bike off me, still rides it today. This is one bike I wish I hung on to – would be a cool, old school classic now.

Old School Mountain Bike Racing

Family and I took a trip back to the homeland last summer – a strange land known as New Jersey – a curious mixture of rural areas, toxic drenched zones, toll booths, wise-ass attitudes, traffic, good pizza, organized crime and Lyme Disease ticks. It’s better then Disneyland and only three times as expensive. Some parts are run down urban areas, other parts can match Vermont for natural beauty.

While we were there, visited some old friends, Kevin and Beth McGatha. They occupy a nice spread in a rural area of the state – complete with hundreds of acres of state woods at their disposal. Being old riding pals, they dragged out some photos during our visit, including the ones posted above – which I’ve never seen – and they later sent me.

This was old school mountain bike racing, circa 1987, in Wawayanda State Park, New Jersey. That’s right, Wawayanda – sounds like a fictional camp in some cheesy ‘80s movie. It’s actually a great riding area, like many in New Jersey. That’s right – hard to believe.

Racing back then was a pretty informal affair, with less crowds then today – or I should say less then the XC heyday of the ‘90s. Doesn’t everyone freeride now and have 9 inches of suspension travel? At least that’s what the bike mags have you believe.

In the ‘80s, most events had a XC race in the morning and a Observed Trials competition in the afternoon. This was cool, ‘cause I could suck at two events for the price of one.

Most people hung around for the trials and competed on the same bike they raced earlier. There were also some trials specialists mixed in there as well, on trials specific bikes. It all made for a fun day with fellow mountain bike cult members.

Pictures are of a much younger me, on my then very cool ‘86 Fat Chance. Dig the matching Vetta hard shell helmet – only used for racing.

Side note: In case you don’t know, Observed Trials events require you to ride through “sections”, without putting your feet down. Each “dab” of the foot gets you a point. Low score wins. It’s based on a motorcycle sport – Google it. Good trials riders, on motorcycles or bikes, can do things that don’t seem possible.

This concludes our little history test. Yes – it will be on the final.

Random Crash Stories. Episode # 1

If you spend any amount of time on two wheels and hang around with the two wheel crowd - you'll eventually witness some crashes and sample some dirt or pavement yourself. Sometimes its funny, other times downright scary. It's all part of the two wheel deal. You can embrace it, pretend it will never happen, or sell your bikes and take up bowling.

Since bad things are supposed to happen in threes - here's the first three crashes that spin out of my head. Sort of like a pinwheel of pain. Enjoy.

Crash # 1.

Timeframe, early 1990s. I'm cruising on the Burke-Gilman Trail and notice a guy up ahead, playing around with his toe strap (remember those?) - head down, not paying attention.

He drifts off the trail into the drainage ditch and bushes that run alongside the trail. Does a perfect endo into the ditch. Well, actually half an endo, since he lands upside down - head and shoulders awkwardly compressed into the dirt, feet still in the clips, some branches through the wheels - holding everything perfectly upside down.

I stop my bike and walk over, assess the situation for a second - then pop one of toe straps, which releases the entire kinetic human sculpture crashing to the ground. We drag his bike out of the ditch and check for damage - human and mechanical. The dude's glasses put a nice gash on his nose, with blood running down his face. He doesn't say a word - just seems embarrassed and pissed off. He pedals away without saying anything, looking a little like Bernard Hinault in the 1985 Tour.

It's beautiful the way bikes bring people together.

Crash # 2.

Same time frame - early '90s. This time I'm driving my car up Simonds Road, a local steep hill. I notice a cyclist heading down in the opposite direction. As he comes into view, appears to be a DUI type guy, sporting a department store 10 speed - complete with drop bars spun over for maximum upright mobility. Moving at a nice clip, he hits the curbing of the shoulder and goes down hard - sliding to a stop on his knees, sitting up. I'd give it at least a 7.5 for style and execution.

I stopped the car and yell out the window to see if he's okay. Dude completely ignores me, gets up and collects his bike - straightens out the twisted handlebars and continues down the hill, looking pissed off and embarrassed.

I sense a trend here.

Crash # 3.

Burke-Gilman Trail once again, but just a few months ago. I'm cruising to work one morning, following - okay, drafting - some older guy on a clapped out commuter bike. He's moving along quite nicely and helping me get to work refreshed and on time. Thanks.

As we approach one of the street crossings near Sand Point Way, I pull back and to the left as my usual practice - to give some safety room. No cars in sight, so we cross at a fast pace - commuter guy stands to accelerate back up to warp speed, then suddenly slams into the ground sideways - really hard. I pass the bouncing body on the left - then stop and run back.

Guy is already up on his feet. I asked what the hell did he hit. Nothing. Crank arm snapped at the pedal hole, causing the pedal to break off. Wow. I ask if he's okay - not hurt at all - and where he's headed. Ballard. Uh, not today. Says he has a cell phone, will get picked up - no problem.

I continue to work, thinking maybe I should check the cranksets on all my bikes...

Personal Rides: Miyata Ridge Runner

In the early ‘80s, I worked at Whippany Cycle, a bike shop located in Northern New Jersey. Even though I spent plenty of time as a kid riding around on Sting-Ray copies and department store “10 Speeds”, during my era at the bike shop I actually never owned a bike. Strange but true. I did borrow one occasionally for rides, but had nothing I called my own. Between attending community college, dating my girlfriend (and later wife) Lori, keeping my collection of ratty Fiats running, as well as my ‘73 Yamaha RD350 – there was no motivation or extra money to spring for a new bike. Sure, there were bikes hanging in the shop I lusted after – they would have to wait.

In 1984 the wait ended. Having a dirt motorcycle background, I really wanted a mountain bike. We carried Miyata at the time and I had my eye on the top of the line Ridge Runner model. I just scored my first job in computer operations and the pay increase over a bike shop wage was like hitting the lottery. I pulled in with my new Volkswagen GTI, popped for the Miyata Ridge Runner, plus a Miyata 110 road bike for Lori. All that with sick days and benefits included. What a concept. Don’t get me wrong, I had a blast working at the shop – but having some extra was dough was a really nice change of pace.

This was the Cro-Magnon era of mountain bikes and the Miyata was a prime example. No suspension, SunTour Mountech derailleurs, 6 speed freewheel, friction shifting, bull moose handlebars, round bear trap pedals and bolt on hubs. I loved the thing. I rode it a fair amount for two years - on the road, exploring nearby woods, playing Observed Trials rider and just general cruising around. Besides cutting the handlebars down a bit and changing the grips, it remained stock and felt great.

At the time, mountain bikes were fairly rare. I remember riding it to watch the Tour of Nutley, a local crit race that I used to check out. People were asking me questions and one guy photographed it leaning against a wall. Another time I was cruising through Branch Brook Park in Newark, when some messenger looking dude rode by and asked me how many gears it had. When I replied 18, he just shook his head and cruised past. Anytime I ran into someone in the woods, hiking or on a dirt bike - they were amazed you could ride the same trails on a bicycle. This was years before land access hassles hit the scene.

This was also before helmets or specific mountain bike clothes. All I needed was a pair of OP shorts, sneakers and tube socks. Winter kit was jeans and hiking boots. Didn’t even use toe straps yet – that was for road bikes.

Near my house in Morris County, hit the woods in Mount Arlington and nearby Allamuchy. Trails I used to ride on with dirt motorcycles, replaced by human power. I never looked back. Hot humid summer rides, changing leaves in the fall, snow rides in the winter. Lori and I also rode the NYC 5 Boro Bike Tour on our Miyatas. Good memories.

I sold the Ridge Runner in 1986 after picking up a new Fat Chance. My old bike shop pal, John Passacantando bought it off me. He later gave it to his dad and from what I hear, still rides it today. As an interesting side note, John later went on to run Greenpeace USA – not bad for a bike mechanic from New Jersey.

Even though I already dug bikes, this Miyata really launched me into being a full on bike nut.

Thanks Miyata.

Positively False?

While visiting the library last week – picked up the book ‘Positively False’ by Floyd Landis. While roaming the aisles, also found the 2006 Tour DVD by World Cycling Productions, turning the week into something of a Floyd Landis tribute – or investigation – depending on your take on things.

Unless you live in a cave or know nothing about cycling, Floyd Landis won the 2006 Tour de France, only to have the title stripped away after testing positive for synthetic testosterone. He’s since fought tooth and nail to regain the title and clear his name – unsuccessfully. After many hearings, lots of lawyers, and a ton of money, his battle with the WADA has failed. His two year ban from racing, justified or not, has ended, and Floyd will race in 2009 for the OUCH/Maxxis team.

Before diving into the book, my son Ian and I watched the Tour DVD – all four hours of it (we’re loopy). We also watched the original coverage in 2006. Seeing Stage 16, where Floyd bonks and loses the Yellow Jersey - followed by the infamous Stage 17 and his heroic break away that set the stage to reclaim the Yellow Jersey – was great. Stage 17 was the stage where he allegedly doped and was brought down. If that did not occur, Floyd’s comeback on the stage would have been Tour history – for all the right reasons.

The book was interesting, especially reading about Floyd’s Mennonite background and his eventual decision to leave to pursue a pro mountain bike career. His stories about not getting along on Team Postal and Lance Armstrong were interesting as well. Of course, he goes into detail about the 2006 Tour and his battle to clear his name. The book is worth reading, even without the doping aspect. Looking into what pro racers do to train, miles ridden, comeback from injury – such as his broken hip – is amazing.

Did he take testosterone? Who knows. I personally don’t think he did it. From his side of the story, battling a false allegation against the forces that be, seems to be impossible. From the time the book was written, he still had hope and was plowing full steam to clear his name. You need piles of money and time to defend yourself against something this. With his background, you would think if guilty, he would have confessed and taken his lumps – not go through what he has to clear his name. Why suffer through that time and expense? Floyd and his team also posted everything out on the Internet, much to the dislike of the WADA. If the WADA was confident of their case, they should welcomed the openness, not fought it.

Where I waver on the story is the Greg LeMond incident. It was in the press at the time, where Greg and Floyd communicated and Greg supposedly asked Floyd to tell the truth – that he doped. During the conversation, Greg admitted he was abused as a kid and holding the secret nearly killed him – as if Floyd holds this secret – no good will come out of it. Greg was then called to one of Floyd’s hearings as some sort of character witness. Before Greg’s testimony, someone on Floyd’s defense team called LeMond pretending to be the person that abused Greg, hoping to rattle him – or who knows what. Insane and incredibly stupid. It also put a huge negative impact on the Floyd team. It just added another bizarre soap opera twist to the story. Floyd explained what happened, but that whole aspect of the story put it over the top for me. Still, I don’t think Floyd doped.

When the book was released, Floyd did a book tour to promote the book and tell his story. I found out – the day after – he had been in Lake Forest Park, five minutes from my house. I would have checked that out for sure. Seeing and meeting someone for real can sway your opinion for sure. As Floyd was getting famous, I always got a kick out of his interviews. He came across as funny and sometimes goofy. Very different from the usual road racer. I’m not really one for celebrity worship or being star struck, but meeting Floyd for real would be cool.

In any case, this is all old history by now. It will be interesting to see how Floyd rides in 2009. Now that Lance is back, possibly seeing those two go head to head again, should make for fun year to be a pro cycling fan.

Don’t waste too much time watching the pros however – get out there yourself. That’s what really counts.