Parade of the Heavies

17 October 2015

It's mid-October, well into the time of year when I no longer care about distance or difficulty.  It's the time of year that I run my silly rides:  Rojo's to Rojo's; the Stampede tour; and, today, the Parade of the Heavies.

The parade was small: Jim met me at my house, and we scooped up Sean around the corner. We rode to Pennington, where John K was waiting. Snakehead ought to have been there, but family duties called. Gordon had expressed interest, but he often works weekends.  There are a few others I'd hoped to see, because they come out on Hill Slug spring rides on their finest vintages, but, in the end, it was just the four of us.

That makes naming the winners easy:

Most Vintage Components:  Sean's Purple Haze

He bought the frame for $250 on eBay and did it up with parts from his 1971 racing bike. "The scar on the shifter matches the one on my hip," he says, proudly.

Purple skewers aren't exactly era-appropriate, but style is important too.

Our bikes had two things in common today.  First, all were metal (for a change!), and second, we all had the capacity for down tube shifters.

Sean went so retro that he had quite a time stuffing his bootie-covered shoes into his vintage toe cages.

Kokopelli is the head badge:

Newest Retro:  Jim's Krakow Monster

Jim built the Monster in the spring, over the course of a few days.  We see it a lot on rides when he needs to slow himself down.  The components are all new, but Jim made the effort to stay away from the latest in componentry and materials.  You won't find a speck of carbon on the Krakow Monster.

Most Battered: John K's Serotta


It's titanium, but it's from the 1990s. John isn't trying to keep his Serotta pretty or technically hip. (Kermit, my Waterford, is of similar vintage.)

Most Sparkly: Gonzo

I don't know how old Gonzo is.  I got the frame on eBay in 2003, and it was already well-worn back then.  Gonzo could be older than Kermit.  We'll never know.  I'm not trying to use vintage parts, but the front wheel and drive train are from Kermit, who was built in 1997. The rear wheel is the one I just made.

The powder coat, of course, is new.

We might be hitting peak leaf color in the next couple of weeks. This is the western end of Woosamonsa Road, where it meets Bear Tavern Road:

Pleasant Valley Road at Pleasant Valley-Harbourton Road:

Protesting PennEast meets Halloween decoration season on Hewitt Road:

The ride included a planned stop at Wheelfine Imports.  Sean had never been inside.  We lost him in the back, where the clothing is.  He emerged with a wool Campagnolo jersey.

Michael pulled down some wooden rims and expounded on the craft:

Part store, part museum, part fire hazard, Wheelfine Imports is for people who appreciate (OK, Pete G, "fetishize") bicycles as a form of art, and who have a lot of time to spend inside. Because, when Michael senses that you're taken in by it all, he'll start talking, and you'll want to listen.

I was eyeing the rims on the far right*.  Then he told me the price.

Alexauken Creek Road:

We stopped at Rojo's in Lambertville.  My original intention was to go to Owowcow for ice cream too, but it was too cold for that.

Union Street is always good for Halloween decorations.  This house didn't disappoint:

The one across the street maintained the theme:

We were just about moving again when John heard much barking.  On a side street was a fundraiser for a local animal rescue group: a Halloween costume contest.  For dogs.

No self-respecting cat would put up with this.

Just ask Russell, who you can almost see through the reflection in Sean and Dale's front window:

I had been hoping more people would come out for today's ride, but, in the end, the small group was the perfect mix.

*Disrepair Update:

I had an eye exam on Friday morning. It involved checking my retina behind the now mostly healed scratch, which meant another pupil dilation, which meant I'd be useless in the lab until it wore off (and two weeks of steroids now, because the swelling hasn't completely gone down). So, I tossed Miss Piggy and Beaker's prima donna rear wheel into the car and headed over to Pennington after the exam.

"This one lasted four months," I told Ross, as he knelt down to inspect Miss Piggy's front derailleur.  "The thing is," I said, "I can put it where it belongs, but I'll never get it to stay there."

"I'm calling Cannondale," he said. "Hey, Pete, get some pictures of this." He'd read my mind: What if it's the braze-on, part of the frame?  

"But it's been five years," I said.

"Doesn't matter."  

"Five years and we couldn't fix it," I agreed.

I had another question: What could he show me in a reliable, fixable, not-too-expensive wheel set? I told him about the Mavic Helium Anniversary Edition rear spoke that broke over the summer and how it had suddenly gone out of true last week.  "I don't want to be riding on a wheel I'm constantly worrying about. I'm going to take it up to Michael to see what he thinks." 

Ross has a couple of possible wheel sets in the shop, including a pair from Mavic (not again!) that has a more standard spoke setup and blue spoke nipples.  "It'd look good on the Tommasini," Pete said.  Good memory, that kid; the bike hasn't been in the shop since August of 2014.  

"Don't buy anything yet," Ross advised. "Let me ask around and see what's out there." 

I bought a tiny frame pump for Gonzo and left Miss Piggy at Hart's.

Up at Wheelfine, Michael motioned me to follow him to the back, where he popped the wheel into the truing stand.  The good news is that he was able to straighten it out.  The bad news is that the spokes have stretched to the point where they can't be tightened any further, and it's going to go out of true again.  "It depends on how much you can stand," he said.  "These things used to go out after three thousand miles.  Not anymore." I'm at something like 1800 miles.

"Take a look at these," he said, and pulled out a pair of rims laced with round, black spokes. They looked new and classic at the same time.  "Each spoke is four dollars," he said.  The set would be $1500.  "That's too much for me," I told him. I've never paid that much for wheels; the most I've paid is $900 for Kermit's Fulcrum Race 3 pair, and that was painful. 

The rims I noticed today would run $1250.  "Still too much," I said. I'm sure that I'll find something, and, failing that, Michael could build a set that would be both zippy and traditional. Or I could attempt to build a set on my own. I'm not sure I have the patience for that, even if Sean were to agree to let his wheelbuilding tools live here long-term again.  On the other hand, if we have a winter like the last one... Maybe if Michael told me what parts to buy, I could start them and he could finish them for me...  Maybe I need to stop blogging and eat dinner, because I think this blood sugar deficit is making me think loopy things.