Another Winner From RuthWorks SF

A few days ago, I wrote about the excellent (and, in my opinion, beautiful) randonneur bag Ely Rodriguez of RuthWorks SF made for me.

I photographed it on Vera, my twin-lateral Miss Mercian mixte.  If you looked at the photos, you probably noticed another bag hanging from the seat rails.  I’m going to tell you about it in today’s post.

As you can probably tell, it’s also Ely’s work.  He made it around the same time he made the Randonneur bag.  So far, I have used that under-seat bag on three of my bikes:  Vera, Arielle (my Mercian Audax) and Helene (my other Miss Mercian).  It was a great complement to all of them.

How can I describe it?  Well, first of all, I’ll mention its capacity.  I don’t have an exact number, in cubic inches or liters.  But I can say with confidence that it’s somewhere between the Gilles Berthoud GB 786 saddle bag and the Carradice Barley: two bags I’ve used.

What that means is that it would probably do you well for a long day ride, or one that could involve changes of clothing or necessitate raingear.  You could also carry iPads and small cameras in it; if I were to carry a single-lens reflex camera with extra lenses and filters, I’d feel more confident with the Randonneur front bag ( or anything similar) with a small rack underneath.

Now, you could use it alone on a ride like the ones I’ve mentioned, or on a brevet or a long summer weekend ride for which you’re packing light. 

Well, perhaps I shouldn’t say “packing light”.  “Low-volume” might be more like it.  The bag is very strong, being solidly constructed of cotton canvas duck and leather.  (Ely can make a vegan version of it, if you prefer.)  And it offers a couple of options for mounting:  through the loops of a saddle like the Brooks B-17, or with a strap around the saddle rails.  Of course, you could use both if you’re carrying a large or heavy load.  Whichever you use, the bag is stabilized by a strap that fastens the bag to your seatpost, stays or rack rails, depending on the size and configuration of your bike. 

I would imagine that you could also install the mounting system Gilles Berthoud uses on its largest saddlebag, or fashion your own version of a decaleur.  Speaking of which:  I would also imagine that it would work as a handlebar bag, although I have not tried it myself.

Having said all of that, I will say that you probably won’t need to go to such lengths:  I simply pulled the long leather strap tight around the body of the bag, and it stayed snug against the saddle rails on all of my bikes, whether the bag was packed to, or far from, its capacity.  

All in all, I can say:  1.) I am happy with this bag for, essentially, the same reasons I’m happy with my other RuthWorks bag and, 2.) This particular bag is a good one to consider if you need something larger than a basic tool pouch/wedge but don’t want to buy a Bagman, rack or other hardware.  And, also like the other RuthWorks bags, it’s something to consider if you like a “retro” look and traditional materials and construction methods, but you want it your way. As I’ve mentioned in my posts about the other bags he’s made for me, Ely offers a variety of options (and even does custom designs) as well as materials and colors.

One Person's Trash Is Another Person's...Honjo? LeFol?

I used to know people who never bought furniture or electronic equipment:  They furnished their rooms, apartments or even houses—and made music, phone calls, designs and algorithms—with stuff people left curbside for sanitation workers to pick up.  I still know someone, a musician and bike mechanic (If he’s reading this, he knows who he is!), who has never purchased a power tool or even a vacuum cleaner:  He has refurbished stuff other people discarded.  He even owns a couple of bikes acquired that way. I, too, have had such bikes in my life.

Maybe it’s because most of my acquaintances and I are well into middle age that I no longer hear of people filling their living spaces with beds, couches or even desks or cupboards other people no longer wanted or needed.  Perhaps young people are still doing such things and I just need to make younger friends.  Or it may be that concerns over bedbugs and contagious diseases have stopped people from constructing their living spaces from the flotsam of other people’s lives.

I admit it’s been a while since I’ve done anything like that.  In fact, when I see piles of furniture and books, or bags of clothes or concatenations of toasters, blenders, food processors, microwave ovens, stereo equipment, light fixtures and framed prints relegated to the edge of the gutter at the beginning or end of a month (when people move out), I almost never stop even to take a look.  For now, I don’t want any living being besides Max or Marley to take up residence in my apartment unless he or she is helping me to pay the rent or is a partner in a recreational (not procreational!) activity with me.

The other day, I rode by an apartment full of stuff without the apartment abandoned in front of a recently-built waterfront condo building on Kent Avenue in Williamsburg.  I wouldn’t be writing about it if I hadn’t noticed something from the corner of my eye and checked it out.

It’s not every day that someone leaves behind a pair of hammered aluminum fenders with a randonneur-style rack. It would be serendipitous (Is that an actual word?) enough if they were from Velo Orange.  But I knew, as soon as I picked them up that at least the fenders aren’t.  

The pattern on them consists of hexagons that are more sharply defined than the polygons on the VO fenders:

I doubted then, as I do now, that they’re original LeFol or other vintage French fenders.  But could they be Honjos?  The pattern matches.  And, even more interestingly, they are 43 mm wide, the same as Honjos, whereas my VOs are 45 mm.  (VO also makes 35mm hammered fenders.) 

But I didn’t see any sort of markers to indicate their provenance.  I’ve seen a couple of pairs of Honjos before, but I can’t recall whether they had any decals or emblems on them.  I also don’t know whether some other company is making fenders that look so much like Honjos.  It’s not inconceivable:  After all, how could Honjo claim a patent infringement when its own fenders replicate 50- or 60-year-old French designs?

Anyway, the fenders are in excellent shape.  There’s a little bit of dirt on the underside, which shows they were ridden, but not much.  There are a couple of indentations where the fenders were fitted between fork blades or seat stays.  They were drilled for some frame that had threaded fitments in the fork crown and underneath the seatstay bridge, as Helene (my newer Miss Mercian) has.  The holes don’t seem gouged or otherwise enlarged and have no cracks or other stresses around them. So, if I wanted to use the fenders on Helene, fitting the front should be no problem, but the hole in the rear might not line up with the fitting on the rear bridge. 

Of course, I could plug that hole and use the fender with a bracket—on Helene or Vera.  But the rack is not meant to be used with panniers or loads of more than a couple of kilos—both of which I sometimes carry on Vera.

Before I try anything, I want to ascertain that these fenders are actually from Honjo (or LeFol?!) and not some knock-offs that would be a downgrade, quality-wise, from my Velo Orange fenders.  

A Whirlwind Of Bike Modifications During A Storm

So...what am I doing to weather Hurricane/Tropical Storm Sandy?  Bike stuff, of course.

I started with Arielle.  The Dia Compe Silver Shifters are pretty, but they haven't worked out very well.  I've had to replace the nylon washers three times because to keep the levers from slipping (and giving you an unwanted shift), I've had to tighten them really hard.  

I think the action on them is smooth.  As they are patterned after the Sun Tour Micro shifter, I though I could find a pair.  I could...for about $200 on eBay.   So, I went for a Dura Ace downtube shifter, which can be switched from indexing (click-shift) to friction (traditional) mode.

They're not quite as pretty as the Silvers, but they aren't bad, I'd say.  Plus, it's part of the same Dura Ace gruppo as my derailleurs.

I also plan on changing the levers on Helene.  Right now, I have Silver shifters mounted to Velo Orange handlebar pods.  The shifters were originally mounted on the downtube, and I decided to try them on the bars.  Since I ride the bars tilted downward, it's really not much of a reach to the downtube.  Plus, each shifter will need about a foot less of cable and housing than it would need on the handlebar, which will result in a quicker, smoother shift.

I'll probably make the same change to Vera. However, she had a more urgent problem, to which I attended:  Her rear rack was falling apart.  It broke at two of the welds.  Old bike mechanics' wisdom says that if a spoke has broken on your wheel, others will break soon.  I applied that sage advice to my rack, and replaced it.

I got a good buy on a Civia Mission rack.  I tried installing it on Helene, with the idea that I would transfer her Blackburn rack to Vera.  But I didn't like the way the Mission fit on Helene.  The Blackburn fits perfectly, and I didn't want to readjust it for Helene.

As it turned out, the Mission fight nicely on Vera.

Helene's rack mounts are higher on her seat stays than Vera's are on hers.  If I recall correctly, when I ordered Helene's frame, I told the folks at Mercian that I intended to use a Blackburn rack, mainly because I've been using them for about 30 years.  

Anyway, I rather like the way the Mission looks on Vera.  It'll be interesting to see how it holds up under daily use.

So far, it looks like only Tosca and the Trek will be spared this whirlwind of bike modification!

A Tale Of Two Pedals (A Review Of Two Products)

It's the best design; it's an old design.

All right, now that I've got Dickens spinning in his grave, I'm going to tell you about two pedals that, in most ways, are very similar.

The designs of both pedals' bodies are based, to a large degree, on that of the Lyotard Berthet #23, one of the most popular pedals in the history of cycling.

Both have long, curved "tongues" that allow for easy entry and exit from toe clips and straps.

The "tongues" of both pedals lead to relatively wide flat surfaces that nonetheless allow for good grip with a wide variety of shoes.

Both pedals have sealed cartridge bearings that spin smoothly and require little, if any, maintenance.  

Both are available in either silver or black.

A pair of either pedal weighs approximately the same:  300 grams, give or take.

I have ridden one of the pedals in question for nearly two years, while the others have been part of my daily commute for almost two months.

So, you want to know, what pedals am I talking about?

Well, the ones I've been riding for nearly two years are the White Industries Urban Platform pedal.  The pedals I've been using on my rides to and from work are made by Mikashima (MKS) and are called--you guessed it--the Urban Platform pedal.

In one of my earliest posts, I wrote about the White Industries pedals.  In the nearly two years since I wrote that post, I've scarcely thought about them at all.  They run smoothly, are comfortable on long rides and, so far, I haven't had to clean, much less overhaul, them.  Plus, the ones on Tosca (my Mercian fixie) and Arielle (my Mercian road bike) seem not to have been affected, at least functionally, by bumps, scrapes and a couple of tumbles.

The pair pictured in that post went on Arielle.  Subsequent pairs found their way onto Tosca and Helene (my custom Miss Mercian) in that order.  The pedal in this photo is on Helene:

White Indstries Urban Pedal

The WI pedals on Arielle and Helene are silver; the ones on Tosca are black.  While I liked the look of the black ones in the beginning (especially in how it offset the brass dustcap), I wouldn't buy them in black today, as the ones I have scuffed and scratched.  The silver ones don't show such wear.

All in all, the White Industries pedals are among the finest components I have ever used.  In their design and quality of materials and workmanship, they are (I believe) in the same class as Chris King headsets, Phil Wood hubs and bottom brackets, Mavic Open Pro rims and Nitto handlebars, stems and seatposts--all of which I have used for years.

MKS Urban Platform Pedal

Now, I can't speak for the durability my the MKS Urban Platform pedals, which I've been riding on Vera, the 1994 Mercian mixte I purchased last year.  However, if they are anything like other MKS pedals I've used, they should provide me many years and miles of service--barring an accident, of course.

While the basic form of the MKS pedal is much like that of its White Industries counterpart, there are some subtle differences.  There are more pronounced "ridges" on the MKS pedal, which one would expect to provide somewhat better grip.  However, I haven't noticed any real difference in that area between the two pedals.

Also, on the WI pedal, the transition from the pedal body to the toeclip is smooth and flat.  In contrast, the toe clip mounts slightly below the edge of the MKS Urban pedal, as it does on the GR-9, the other platform pedal MKS makes.  I did not feel any discomfort as a result of it; then again, I have been used WI pedals on longer rides, and for a longer period of time, than I've used the MKS Urban.

The platform width of both pedals is about the same, and each is slightly wider than the Berthet and significantly wider than the GR-9.

Another difference is between the two pedals is that the MKS Urban has a one-piece cast body, while the platform of the WI is attached to a precision stainless-steel spindle with sealed bearings.  What that means, in terms of aesthetics, is that while the two pedals look very similar from above, the MKS Urban looks more like the GR-9 from below, while the WI looks a bit more like the Berthet.  What that means in terms of function, I don't know:  They work in similar ways, and seem to have the same amount of ground clearance.  

Underside of White Industries Urban Pedal

Perhaps the clearest difference between the pedals, apart from their appearance, is price:  My MKS Urbans cost about half of what I paid for each pair of WI pedals I now ride.  I got what was probably the lowest price available on my WIs from Universal Cycles of Portland, OR; coupons brought the price down even further.  I purchased my MKS Urbans from Bell's Bike Shop of Philadelphia, which sells on eBay. 

Underside of MKS Urban Platform Peal

As happy as I am with my White Industries pedals, I might not have bought them had I known about the MKS Urban pedals, or had I not found the deals I got.  Or, perhaps, I would have bought them for one, or possibly two, of my bikes.  That is not to say, of course, that you shouldn't buy WI pedals, especially if you truly appreciate fine design and workmanship and/or can score a good deal.  But for half of the price of the White Industries Urban pedal, you can get the MKS Urban Platform, which, in my estimation, is about 95 percent as good.

Coasting Through The First Day Of Fall

Today I took my newly-built old Trek on a joyride.  Well, I also intended my journey as a shakedown ride, to see what needed changing or fixing.  But, as often happens, business mixed with pleasure.

Before setting out, I made a few small adjustments to the saddle and handlebar positions, and topped off the tires.  I also made use of some leftover handlebar tape:

My trip took me through some familiar haunts:  Astoria Park, Randall's and Ward's Islands, the Bronx and upper Manhattan.  The bike, as I've set it up, seems streetworthy:  I can accelerate and maneuver it quickly, but it doesn't seem too delicate for the almost-lunar texture of some streets I rode.

Some of the ride quality may well have to do with the tires. They're Panaracer Ribmos, though not the same ones as I have on Helene. For one, the tires on Helene are all-black, in contrast to the white sidewalls and red tread on the ones I rode today.  More important, the ones I rode today have non-foldable steel beads, in contrast to the foldable Kevlar beads on Helene's tires.  Also, the red treads and white sidewalls seem to be thicker than the black ones, although the width of each tire is the same. What the beads and thicker rubber mean, of course, is that the tires I rode today are significantly heavier than the ones on Helene.  But, I would also expect them to be more durable.

Today is the first day of fall, at least officially.  However, the weather made it feel more like the first day of summer:  Warm and somewhat humid, though not unpleasant.  But, some of the leaves are starting to turn, so it is starting to look like the season.  And, the brick buildings of the Bronx industrial areas (which were entirely free of traffic, as they usually are on weekends) and the Concrete Plant Park always look rather autumnal.  Somehow the bike looked like it belonged.

And I felt almost as if I belonged on the bike. It doesn't fit like my other bikes, but the size might actually work for me.  I have had other similarly-sized bikes, and rode them gingerly.  Also--I've actually ridden both Arielle and Tosca in a skirt.  I think I could do the same on the Trek, as long as the skirt isn't very close-fitting (I have a couple of skirts like that, which I've never worn on a bike.) or long.  I think about that because I have envisioned using this bikes for errands and as a sometime commuter, as well as a winter bike.  (On winter joyrides, I'll probably be wearing wool tights or sweats, depending on the weather.)

And, yes, I'm getting used to the coaster brake.  

"Marley's" Wheel Finds Its Home--For Now

As you may have guessed, the wheel Marley "helped" me build has found a home--for now.

Yes, it's on the Trek 560 frame I "rescued."  Today I took it out for its first run--a visit to the doctor's office, with a stop at the Donut Pub on the way home.  The trip is about six miles each way.

About half a mile from my apartment, I had to make my first stop, for the traffic light before the entrance to the Queensborough Bridge.  I had to think for a split-second:  I don't ride coaster brakes regularly, so I had to "re-learn" the impulse to pedal backward.  Obviously,it's very different from stopping with a handbrake, but it's also not as much like coming to a halt on a fixed-gear bike as one might expect.  On a coaster brake, you backpedal for about an eighth of a crank rotation. Once the brake engages, you can't backpedal any further.

 On the other hand, when you want to stop your fixie (without hand brakes), you actually tense your legs up and shift that tension backward and downward, toward your heels.  You can't really backpedal unless you're unbelievably strong or are willing to live with two broken legs for a long time.

Once I got used to the backpedaling motion, it wasn't hard to control my stops:  The Velosteel brake works quickly and smoothly.

As for the bike itself:  The jury is still out.  Not surprisingly, it's accelerates pretty quickly, as the wheelbase and chainstay lengths are about the same as those of Arielle and Tosca.  However, the frame is made of heavier tubing and, more important, the seat tube is about 1 cm longer, which I noticed somewhat on dismounting the bike.   The most significant difference, size-wise, between the Trek and my diamond-frame Mercians is that the top tube is about 2.5 cm longer.  One consequence of that is that I'm using a stem with a shorter extension, which makes the steering less sensitive than it is on any of my Mercians except, possibly, Vera.

I have no doubt this could be a very good errand, city or winter bike.  I just wonder how comfortable it will be for me.  And, of course, I will have a more difficult time riding in a skirt than I would on Vera or Helene.  

Whether or not I keep the bike, I'm going to hold onto the wheel I just built, as well as the front one. I'd also probably take the saddle, and possibly the handlebars, off the bike before I sell it or otherwise give it up.  But I'm not going to make that decision before I ride it at least a few more times.