Covering Up, In Leather

If you shop at Velo Orange, as I do, you've seen their stitched-on elkhide handlebar covers.  They're offered in lengths for dropped as well as upright bars.  

Velo Orange stitched-on bar covers

Chris at Velo Orange insists they're wide enough to fit around both the bar and cable.  You would need that with if you're using aero or inverse brake levers.

I believe him, but I decided against installing those covers because when I have to replace my cables, I'd have to unstitch the covers.  Knowing myself, I'd probably break the thread or do something that would make it impossible to re-install the covers.

However, back in the day, I did have stitched-on grips at various times on a couple of bikes.  Of course, in those days, I also wasn't riding aero levers and inverse levers were all but unavailable.  That meant riding "traditional" levers, with exposed cable housings. To replace them, it wasn't necessary to remove the tape or coverings from the handlebar.

As I recall, two companies made stitched-on bar covers:  Cannondale and Rhode Gear, both of which still did all of their manufacturing in the US.  For all I know, both companies' handlebar covers may have been made in the same factory and were simply marketed by one company or the other.  I say that because I used both and don't remember any difference, except perhaps in the choice of available colors, between them.  

Rhode Gear stitched-on handlebar covers, red, circa 1985

Anyway, it was interesting to see a red Rhode Gear set on eBay. It was maybe a shade lighter than oxblood, a color I've always loved on leather. (I once had a jacket and a pair of penny loafers in that shade.) I installed the covers on my Trek 930 after I tore up a few other tapes, and they lasted until I sold the bike.  More important (!), they looked great on the bike, which was black.  Actually, before I sold the bike, I spent I-don't-know-how-long unstitching the covers, which I replaced with Benotto or some other cheap tape.  The pretty red handlebar covers went went to my Cannondale (Don't tell anybody!) race bike.

Of course, even if I were going to install stitched-on leather covers, I wouldn't buy those old ones, as much as I like the color.  I've already mentioned one reason:  cable replacement.  On a related issue, I'm not sure that a 30+-year-old leather cover would fit around a bar and cable.  And, finally, if old leather hasn't been stored or cared-for properly, it will disintegrate with use.  

That is, if I were actually going to ride the bike. Now if I wanted to build a "time capsule" bike, circa 1985, I just might consider those grips.  Then again, would I want to pay $120 when VO sells theirs for $35?

With Or Without Cage

Unless you’re a purist who keeps your fixed gear bike NJS-compliant or someone who doesn’t ride much beyond your neighborhood, you use some sort of hydration system. 

Some of you use “Camel Back” type backpacks that hold bladders.  I did when I was doing a lot of mountain biking, although I’ve never really liked carrying anything on my back when I ride. But now I, like most of you, use a bottle-and-cage system.  For all of the diversity of cage materials and designs, most bottles marketed for use on bicycles fit on most cages.  That means you can buy a cage from someone who makes cages, not bottles (like King, who made the stainless steel cages I use) and not have to worry about whether your bottle will fit into it.

Most bikes sold today have threaded  bits on the downtube (and, sometimes, the seat tube) for mounting cages.  But, back in the ‘70’s Bike Boom--around the time I became a dedicated cyclist—most bicycles didn’t have them.  In fact, about the only bikes that came with such provisions were made by constructeurs and other custom builders.  Even top professional-level bikes like the Raleigh Professional and Schwinn Paramount didn’t have bottle mounts.

That meant you needed a pair of clamps—which, in those days, were usually supplied with the cage.  Some would argue that a true “vintage” restoration should include a cage with such clamps—unless, of course, the frame is from a constructeur or other custom builder.  If you look at racing photos from before the early ‘80’s or so, even the top professional riders—including Eddy Mercx on his sunset-orange De Rosa—you can see the clamps.

It was during that time that a few enterprising companies—some of them in the US—came up with some interesting ways of mounting bottles on bikes.

One-clamp cage from Specialites TA, ca. 1975.

Specialites TA of France, which made the cages most racers and high-mileage riders used in those days, made a single-clamp cage.  I mounted one on my Romic and never thought about it:  Like TA’s other cages, it held the bottle securely while allowing easy removal and was all but indestructible.

A Tennessee-based company called Hi-E, which made ultra-lightweight (for the time, anyway) hubs, pedals and other components, came up with their own version of TA’s cage.  Hi-E made their cage from aluminum alloy and it was fixed to the frame with a stainless steel hose clamp.  American Classic would later make a similar cage in Ohio, along with its own lightweight components.

Others found ways of doing away with the cage altogether.  Rhode Gear came up with what was probably the most popular of them.  Their bottle had an extrusion with “tracks” on each side that fit into grooves on the plastic clamp mounted onto the bike.  It was actually quite good—I had one on myPeugeot “fixie”—and became very popular with club cyclists.  Other companies imitated it.

Rhode Gear bottle, ca. 1978

Its advantages were its simplicity and (if you’re a weight weenie) the elimination of 100 grams or so of steel cage and clamps.  Also, it could be mounted on the seat tube of a bike with short chainstays and little clearance between the tire and seat tube.  In fact, I put another Rhode Gear bottle on my Trek racing bike, which had water bottle mounts on the down tube but not the seat tube.

Plus, after a while, they were made in a bunch of colors as well as basic white and black.  The white ones could be had with the logos of a few large bike manufacturers (I had one with a Peugeot emblem) or, for a time, with club logos or other custom designs.

The disadvantage, as you may have figured, is that it was a proprietary design:  You could only use the bottle designed for the system.  At least the bottle was easy to use and sturdy:  I never heard of one cracking or springing a leak, though a few wore out at the tracks, albeit after a lot of hard usage.

Cannondale made a bottles that attached to its “mated” holders with Velcro.  I never tried such a bottle, but a few riders I knew liked them.  The best thing about them, it seemed, was that the bottle could be put into the holder from any angle.  As one fellow club rider said, “When I’m tired, my aim isn’t as good.”  While riding, he could put the Velcro-coated bottle back in its holder without looking at it.

Cannondale bottle and "cage" with Velcro

One other cageless bottle I used had indentations on its sides designed so that the bottle would “snap” in between the seat stays of most bikes. Most bikes at that time had parallel stays of more or less the same diameter placed more or less the same distance apart.  Of course, such a bottle wouldn’t work on many of today’s bikes, including those with monostays.  Also, as you might expect, the bottle was small:  less than half the size of a standard water bottle.  It did come in handy, though, especially on a training ride on a hot day.  

I don’t know what happened to that bottle.  I think I stopped somewhere, drank from it and absentmindedly left it.  When I realized I no longer had it, I couldn’t find another:  Apparently, they were made only for a year or two. 

As water bottle cage fixtures became standard features on mass-produced bikes, the demand for cageless bottles and single-clamp cages fell off.  By the late 1980s, it seemed that no one was making them anymore. 

RDR Bologna bottle

  

 However, a few years ago, RDR Bologna made a water bottle with a slot in the rear that’s designed to slide directly onto the water-bottle braze on.  I haven’t used one, and don’t know anyone who has.  But, from what I can see, it has all of the advantages and disadvantages of the Rhode Gear bottles I used back in the day.

Standing Out

While surfing eBay, I came across a listing for this classic beauty:

It's a Mercian from 1980, made--as nearly all Mercians had been, up to that time--of Reynolds 531 tubing.  The components on it are what one might expect on a top-level touring, randonneuring or audax bike from that time:  Stronglight triple crank, Huret Duopar derailleurs, early Phil Wood hubs.  


It's even in a color I like.  While my favorite is #57 on the Mercian color chart (Why else would I have three bikes in that color?), followed by numbers 17, 9, 53 and 39, I have a soft spot for British Racing Green.  Most bikes I've seen in that color have white lug outlines, panels and other details.  But I thought the gold panels on this Mercian gave BRG a glow and warmth I hadn't expected.  


Now, tell me, how can anyone so deface such a lovely bike?

Around the time that Mercian was made, the tacky accessory you see on its downtube first came onto the market.  It's called the Flick Stand, and it was made by Rhode Gear.


The idea was, of course, to keep the wheel steady when the bike was standing.  It could have been very useful when there was a load on the bike.  In fact, I had one on my bike for my first European tour.  It lasted about three days:  The part where the metal loop attached to the bracket cracked and broke.  


Every once in a while, I see a Flick Stand.  I also sometimes see remnants of them:  The metal loop broke off and the bike's owner didn't bother to remove the clamp. 


If that design flaw had been eliminated, the Flick Stand could have been very useful.  It still would have been ugly on a nice bike, though.