Jeff Lyon

A Weeklong Cornucopia of Bikes

Last weekend was my first ride on my baby since doing an endo a few days earlier. I’d been terrified to get back on my favorite bike because I didn’t want to discover some catastrophic problem. Hell, let’s be honest – I didn’t even want to face up to a scratch. So imagine my relief to get back on the bike and find there are no issues. Even my own bruises have healed up. Life is fine!

(OK, turns out there is a small bite out of my Cambium C-17, and a scratch on my front rim. I’ll ignore the bite, and I’ve polished out the rough spot on the braking surface. It’s all about the patina, right?)

This is a great time of year. I couldn’t care any less about tight jerseys and logo wear. Give me a sweatshirt and a wool cap!

I am sensing a location trend in photo opps this week. My Raleigh International was feeling a little lonely, so I took her out for a spin late one afternoon and found myself stopping for a “water bottle shot” with my iPhone at the exact same spot as I did with the Boulder in the photos above.

I’d been swapping around some components on bikes, so this was an opportunity to dial in the saddle position of the Brooks Pro that was finding its way back onto the Raleigh. I needed the Cambium C17 to better fit the saddle set back on my L’Avecaise, and the Brooks Pro set back is a little closer to my ideal on the Raleigh. Regardless of how precise my measurements are, I still have to finagle the positioning of things so they feel “right” to me on any particular bike. This was no different – I’d ride for a mile, get off and adjust. Repeat. I don’t think I ever even broke a sweat.

Last Sunday started out cold and windless, but by the time I arrived at the downtown airport with my 1966 Paramount – where there are absolutely no windbreaks, incidentally – there was a cold, stiff wind coming up out of the southwest. The airport loop is almost entirely flat, with only two tiny hills. Flags were furiously flapping from poles, nearly straight out, and as I pedaled in a generally northward direction I was flying. Coming into the two hills that mark a turn to the east, and then to the south, I found myself immediately reminded that my bike is outfitted with a 52/42 crank. (And, by golly, that’s the “old man” set of rings I replaced the original 53/48 rings with!)

The white Paramount is a pretty sharp bike and it rides very nicely. Even though it’s a racing bike, the geometry is much more generous when compared to today’s standards of design. Limping into the parking lot, I encountered this wonderful old TWA jet and set up my white and red-trimmed Paramount for a photograph in front of the red with white-trimmed aircraft. Pretty cool visual, I think.

Living near the Missouri River means the geography isn’t especially flat. The roads are replete with undulating hills the closer one gets to the river and the river bluffs. My legs are feeling pretty good as the summer and fall riding draws to a close and riding my fixed gear Hobbs along country roads, particularly on still days, isn’t as challenging as it will be a couple months from now.

This being the case, I am enjoying these rare, nice December days to ride my 70 year old bike. I discovered that fixed gear actually works pretty well on loose gravel, where a rider will pretty much be pedaling the entire time anyway. I don’t know about anyone else, but I seldom find myself coasting along on the freewheel in such conditions.

Obsessive Compulsive Bike Nerd


OK, I’m a nerd. I obsessively ponder and analyze the personal fit of my bicycles. Having settled upon my Boulder as the analysis “control” because it meets my personal fit criteria better than any other bike ever has, I’ve set up a controlled visual comparison of the geometry. Using a static, controlled camera position and a controlled location for each subject, I’ve photographed several of the bikes I ride on a regular basis. In a digital imaging application I’ve traced the primary lines of geometry, points of contact, and spacing from my Boulder. That drawing has been layered on top of each bike for comparison, and then each bike repositioned to align with the bottom bracket of the Boulder. At a glance, there isn’t a lot of difference in points of contact. Reach is not exact, but similar. Saddle position, the same story. Spacing is significantly different, as is trail. Once again, it’s startling how very small differences can make for a completely different cockpit and ride experience over distance, road conditions, and time in the saddle.


In this analysis, we’re looking at a 1966 Paramount. This is a particularly comfortable riding bike for me, although it feels a bit more aggressive than my Boulder. The comparison indicates a great deal of similarity between the set up of the two bikes, which explains to me, in large part, why I enjoy riding this one as much as I do. The comparison also suggests that if I were to raise the stem about the width of the stem, and to use rando bars to achieve the difference in rise I might better replicate the riding experience of the Boulder. The Brooks Pro is well known for an inability to achieve greater set back than many other saddles, my Cambium C17 saddles included. Still, I like the way they fit and am willing to make the compromise.


Here we are comparing to a 1989 Paramount. The wheelbase is shorter and the overall frame more compact, and obviously racier. Both this and my Boulder are Waterford built frames and both have a difficult-to-define ride quality that I enjoy. I find myself having to settle into a different ride position on this bike, which is unsettling at first – it takes me a while to get used to the different balance and stretch if I’ve been primarily riding the Boulder.


In considering this 70’s (?) era Bernard Carre frame and arrangement, I run into a curiosity. One might think the steeper steerer would result in a completely different ride experience than on the Boulder. And while that’s not inconsistent with my own riding experience, the curious thing is that it’s not so different as to be noticeable when I switch riding between the two bikes. In other words, I can easily jump off one and onto the other without my body rebelling. The leverage of the MAFAC levers requires a grip of steel and I will likely swap them out for something that provides greater ease of pull from the hoods – perhaps a pair of 105’s?


The International is a comfy, all-day-long kind of rider, so it’s a little unsettling to notice how much difference there is in the trail between it and my Boulder.


The Lyon continues to be a bit of an enigma for me. Despite an almost identical configuration to my Boulder in terms of spacing and contact points, I’ve yet to feel like I’ve “nailed” the set up. First off, there is a nagging “ting ting ting” that sounds like it’s coming from the brand spanking new bottom bracket. This is far from my first rodeo, and I know that weird sounds are almost never actually coming from that location. I’m exhausting all the possibilities first: saddle, seat pin, pedals, crank, crank bolts, headset, and so on. But sometimes, a duck really is a duck, and after a weekend of riding on smooth paths so I could test all the options, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have a bad bottom bracket. Spinning up to speed is a chore, so maybe it’s binding under load. My wheel set might also need to have the hubs serviced. Long story short: This bike should feel a lot racier than it does. In my mind it’s an issue with something in the set up that I haven’t yet identified. It’s frustrating, to be honest, and that frustration means I cannot yet make a fair comparison to my Boulder.

 

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Speaking of obsessing, I’ve been agonizing over the Lauterwasser bars I put on my 1946 Hobbs of Barbican last year. Agonizing over what? They look cool as hell, and they are certainly the right look for this time period. There’s a great example on the Classic Lightweights site with Lauterwasser bars.
But jeez, I just can’t get comfortable riding with them. They always feel awkward for any distance greater than a couple of miles. So I changed them out for drop bars, a little longer stem – and while I was at it, I swapped out the Weinmann center pulls for dual pivot side pulls.


Gonna have to use your imagination here. The fields of soybeans yesterday were dusty yellows and browns, with a brilliant blue sky framing far off hills of caramel, olive, and bits of sunset orange. The 1946 Hobbs is blue with red accents, and is a blast to ride fixed wheel over miles of pretty flat river bottom highway surrounded by miles of those hues.
And that is the bottom line. Despite my obsessive compulsive tendencies, at the end of the day the ride is really all that matters to me.

Bike Surgery

The diagnosis. Remember this? The L’Avecaise build that went together so easily, so smoothly…until I got to the front rack? I went with a Velo-Orange front rack because I’ve had excellent experiences with their product line and even with a previous version of this same front rack. But no amount of bending was going to level out that damn platform; the stays simply needed to be extended or the center bolt needed to be shorter.

The operation. One of the terrific members of the BikeForums community of classic and vintage enthusiasts reached out to me with an offer to surgically alter the stock rack by cutting the stays and adding material. After bending the center bolt to level the rack, I made several very precise measurements. The rack, along with this illustration (above), got shipped west to Seattle, and prepped for surgery.

The prognosis. This morning, a box awaited me on my front porch. I admit that I removed the rack with a little apprehension. Did I measure correctly? Did I forget to provide some critical detail? Would it fit? The straight and simple answer is that not only does it fit, it slipped right on and bolted down without a bit of muscle, bending, or drama. The platform has the very slight backward tilt that I wanted (rather than the bulldozer angle that the original rack had.) It’s elevated more than one might specify in a custom rack, but I was aware this would be the trade off for extending the stays. No worries there: I’ll build a custom sized spacer between rack and fender – I rather like having that additional one point to secure the fender anyway.

Time to fit a front bag.

Into the wild.

Yes, the L’Avecaise has been released into the wild. The build is complete for now, and my initial shakedown ride went well yesterday morning. I stopped frequently to check and recheck bolts and tires and clearance and all manner of things – as I swoop down that first long descent after a new build I’m suddenly thinking to myself, did I tighten down the stem? Oh crap…what about the front wheel? 

No decaleur installed for now – I’ll need something with more drop than the VO version I have on hand if I’m going to move my Swift Ozette bag back and forth between this and my Boulder…I should have measured first. The other option is Berthoud bag, the GB28 size looks to fit the space just about perfectly but at a $270 price point I have a great deal of difficulty not grimacing. I’d much rather have one bag traveling back and forth.

Counting this morning, I’ve escaped on the L’Avecaise twice and neither ride was long or especially spirited: About twelve or thirteen miles each time out, with a few climbs and a few descents, and one very deceptively steep false flat. Essentially, I haven’t attempted to push it much at all yet and won’t until I know I’ve got everything dialed in to my satisfaction.

So, out of the box just a few observations:

  • I like the “float” of supple 650b x 42 tires quite a bit. I’m using Hetres at the moment, which while a bit heavier than the Compass tires, still feel great. The cost point between the two is negligible, and Compass had the Hetres in stock so my. tire selection was narrowed by availability. I’ve made no secret how much I like Compass tires as evidenced by the fact that I have them on three other bikes.
  • Installing the VO Noir Zeplin fenders and nailing down a perfect fender line was a snap. Jeff Lyon’s frame and fork are perfectly designed to make set up so much less painfree than other installation experiences. What totally pissed me off though, was the damn VO front rack. It came nowhere close to fitting and required extensive bending to even make an adequate mating. During the process of dry fitting I managed to bodger up the front fender. With a bag in place, no one will ever see the scratches or no the difference. But I will. I’ll never use another of these racks.
  • I went with Tektro CR720 cantilevers for the brakes and I’m very happy with them, and let me explain why: When I built up my Boulder I used Avid Shorties. I heard so many good things about them that I was really taken aback at how difficult I found them to set up. In fact, I jiggered around with adjustment for over a year, and to this day they work only adequately. They stop, and that’s about the best superlative I can apply to them. By contrast, the Tektro cantilevers installed and were adjusted quickly. They are very grabby, and stop very well. I like how they modulate on descent. And quite frankly, when it comes time to replace the pads on my Boulder I’ll probably just yank the Avids and install a pair of Tektro CR720’s.
  • When it comes to saddles, I’m a Brooks fan boy. My favorite model continues to be the Cambium C17, but I also have Brooks Professionals on several of my bikes. Having a couple of NOS vintage Pros on hand, I installed one, presuming I’d eventually replace it with a black C17. And while that may still be the end game, I’m very pleased with the saddle position. The overall frame geometry and set up of the cockpit matches my own body geometry and ride positioning. I’ve made extensive measurements and comparisons over the years, so I’ve got a great baseline as a starting point for set up. I’m very pleased that I was able to use this data to easily position the main points of contact: saddle, relative to the bottom bracket and pedals; reach, relative to saddle, bars, bar height, and hand position.
  • For handlebars, I’ve been very pleased with my experience with the VO rando model. On two other bikes, I’ve gone with a pretty wide size. On a whim, I ordered a pair that are a size narrower. I don’t notice an appreciable difference, and if anything, the difference is positive rather than negative. This is the second set of bars on which I’ve used the rubber Brooks Cambium wrap. I appreciate the slight “give” the Cambium wrap has on my palms, yet there’s still a confident foundation. In contrast to the bars on my Boulder – also VO rando models, by the way – wrapping the bars on my L’Avecaise was a real bitch. I’m pretty good at wrapping bars using cotton, leather, or just plain old cork, so I found this experience both challenging and frustrating.
  • I’ve currently got my favorite style of clip in pedals installed, the dual SPD/platform Shimano M-324 model. However, I’m likely going to replace them with flat platform Vice pedals, which I have on both my International and my Bernard Carre. I like how grippy the platform is with just about any shoe, and that I can just hop on and take off without going through the motions of outfitting in cyclist clothing and togs.
  • I’m going with rechargeable lighting in front and battery operated tail light. After running out of charge on the road a couple of times now, I like the convenience of just being able to stop at Quick Trip for a pair of AAA batteries. Plus, I am finding the battery operated tail lights outlast the USB charged options. Go figure.