If You Can See The Difference....

One of my favorite bloggers is The Retrogrouch.  So, I intend no disrespect to him with this post.

He is, of course, not the only cyclist to refer to himself as a Retrogrouch.  I am mainly in sympathy with him and the others who so identify themselves:  I ride steel frames, hand-laced wheels, downtube shifters (on my geared bikes), pedals with toe clips and Brooks saddles (except on my LeTour).  And all of my cranksets have square tapered axles.

On the other hand, I ride cassette hubs on my geared bikes (though the Trek 412 I'm building will have a screw-on freewheel).  The chief reasons are convenience and availablity:  No high-quality multiple-sprocket freewheels are made today (All of the good ones are single-speed.)  and most of the new-old-stock freewheels one can find on eBay and in other places have gear ratios that are useless to me.  (I am "of a certain age" and don't race, so what can I do with a 12-13-14-15-16-17-18?)  The unusued ones command exorbitant prices, while buying a used one is risky:  Your chain may or may not play nice with it.

And, as you can see from the photos in my sidebars, some of my components are black.   Some see that as a sign of a "sell-out", but there were indeed black components in the '70's and earlier.   Even the high priests of "shiny silver" at Velo Orange (which is actually one of my favorite online retailers) concede as much.

So, having said my piece about Retrogrouches, I want to introduce another species or clan or tribe (depending on your point of view) of cyclists.  I will call them Retrogeeks.  

Now, Retrogeeks and Retrogrouches are not mutually exclusive.  In fact, many can be identified, and would identify themselves, by both monikers.  One notable exception would be the late, great Sheldon Brown:  His encyclopaedic knowledge of all things bicycle made him a Retrogeek but, although he rode mainly steel frames and many older components, he did not think old is always better than new.  So he is not a Retrogrouch, though some have called him that.

One hallmark of a Retrogeek is that he or she knows authentic vintage bikes and parts from ersatz ones, and can tell whether or not an old bike or part was modified. Today, I am going to conduct a sort of Rorsach test that might help you to begin to figure out whether or not you are a Retrogeek.  Take a look at this photo:

Now take a look at this:

They are both images of the old Zefal Competition pump.  With its color scheme, you probably wouldn't be surprised to know that many pro and semi-professional French bikes of the '60's and '70's came with it.  The only other portable bike pump that was considered its equal (or, in some eyes, its better) was the Silca Impero.

What is the difference between the two Competitions in the first two photos?

If you look at the first two photos in this post, you will see that the pump in the second has the traditional press-on valve fitting, like the ones available for Silca pumps. To my knowledge, all Competitions came with it.  The pump in the first photo, in contrast, has a thumb-lock fitting--from a Zefal HP pump, the Competition's successor.

Pity that poor HP.  Had it been functional, I probably would use it on the Trek 412 I'm putting together:  It was the pump of choice at the time the bike was made.  Apart from the finish (polished on the Competition, silver anodized on the HP) and the color scheme, the only difference between the Competition and HP is in the head.

One nice thing about the Silcas is that you can change the head simply by twisting it off.  A Zefal head, on the other hand, attaches to one of the strangest-looking screws ever made

all the way inside the body.  Zefal used to make a tool for the purpose.  The only one I ever saw (or used before today) resided on Frank's toolbench in Highland Park (NJ) Cyclery, where I worked.

From Yellow Jersey

A screwdriver with a long flat blade would unscrew it--as long as the shaft is about 400mm long. (At least, I think that's how long the Zefal tool was.)  My longest screwdriver is only 12 inches (about 300mm).  So I resorted to another implement

or, I should say, collection of implements.  Assembled, it makes me think more of a crane--or of something made with an Erector Set-- than of any other hand tool I have ever seen or used.  

It consists of a 3/8" socket drive with two extensions--  one of 10 inches (250mm), the other 6 inches (150mm), a 3/8"-to-1/4" adapter and the blade assembly from one of my reversible screwdrivers which--wonder of wonders!--fit into the 1/4" socket.

Getting the screw out wasn't difficult.  But reassembling was a bit trickier.  I dropped the screw into the pump shaft and jiggled it until the threads protruded from the bottom.  Then I inserted my contraption and held it against the screw and screwed the head on for a couple of threads.  You can't screw it on all the way since the hole at the bottom of the pump has a hexagonal shape, into which the inner lip of the pump end fits.  

So, after threading the head onto the screw for a couple of threads, I rotated the pump body until the hexagonal lip of the pump head skid slid into the hexagonal hole at the bottom of the pump body (easily yet snugly:  the parts were well-machined). Of course, I lightly greased the hexagonal parts and the screw threads before re-assembling everything--and, between disassembly and reassembly, I cleaned out the shaft and gave the inside a light coating of fresh grease.

The "operation" was a success:  I pumped two tires to full pressure (90 PSI).  Yes, I cleaned out the head before I re-assembled the pump.

I know I could have kept the Competition as it was.  I ride only Presta valves, so the press-on fitting would have worked just fine. (I know:  I used both Silcas and Zefal Competitions for years.)  But it is easier to pump high-pressure tires with the thumb-lock attachment.  Plus, I now have a pump that nobody (or, at least, hardly anybody) else has.  Don't worry:  I saved the original Competition head and screw, just in case I decide to convert it back.

Now, if you've been following this blog for the past few weeks, you can guess which bike is getting this pump.

Old Glory, The Union Jack Or Le Bleu, Blanc Et Rouge

Three years ago, I wrote about red, white and blue bicycles--and someone who had a red, a white and a blue Cannondale.

Now I'm going to show you some red-white-and-blue (or bleu, blanc et rouge) components and accessories. 

Ironically, one of greatest pieces of Americana kitsch--in bicycle components, anyway--was made in France:

When SRAM took over Sachs--which, in turn, had swallowed up some French component manufacturers such as Huret, Maillard and Sedis--they continued to manufacture components in the old French plants for a few years before moving their production to Taiwan (except for the chains, which are made in Portugal).

In a way, it makes sense that the "Betsy" derailleur appeared when it did , circa 1997.  That's when the craze for mountain bike parts anodized in a rainbow of colors hit its peak.  In some ways, it was a reaction against the gray uniformity (literal as well as metaphorical) of what Shimano was producing at the time.  Yes, their stuff worked fine (except for the early Rapid Fire shifters).  But a bike equipped with them had all the personality of, well, a Gateway computer with Windows 98 (which, I admit, I used for nearly a decade).  

Another offspring of that craze was the Paul Powerglide derailleur:

In addition to the red-white(well, silver)-and-blue combination shown here, it was also available in a "rasta" finish as well as purple, green, blue, red and other standard anodized colors. Whatever you chose--even plain silver or black (Now why would you do that if you were spending $280 on a derailleur?) your derailleur was emblazoned with the stars and stripes.

Here's another tricolore derailleur from around the same time:

Although branded "Stronglight", it was most likely made in the same factory as "Betsy" in the first photo.  Also, once the colors and badges are removed, it's pretty much identical to a Sachs "Success" or "Quartz" from that period.

Now here's a tricolore acessory that gets me misty-eyed:

This Zefal "Competition" pump is the predecessor of the HP series.  In fact, if you take away the thumb-lock valve fitting and the handle that switches between "HP" 9for pumping" and "X" (to mount it on your bike), you have a "Comoetition",

I used a "Competition" for years, on several bikes.  I had a SIlca Impero, which was about 60 grams lighter, for my racing bike, but for every other kind of riding, I used my Competition.  It worked better and was more durable than the Silca, and its color scheme reminded me about "liberte, egalite et fraternite."  Why I wanted to be reminded of those things, I don't know, but I don't think I'm any the worse for being reminded of them.

I'm sure there have been other components and accessories in red, white and blue or bleu, blanc et rouge.  Now all we need are bike parts that play "The Star Spangled Banner" or
 "La Marseillaise" (or, perhaps, "God Save The Queen") when you need a boost of energy.

Happy Fourth Of July.  Wish me a happy birthday.  (Yes, it's today!)

 

A Woman's Life In Pumps

When I first started to take long bike rides as a teenager, most portable pumps looked something like this:

Now, if you're doing a period-correct restoration of a French 10-speed, this is the pump you want.  As pumps of that time went, it wasn't bad.  However, hoses that screw onto the pump body almost always leak air.  Even worse, the hoses screwed onto the valves, which leaked even more air, especially if they were Schraeder valves.

Silca Impero. It was available in a wide range of sizes--and, most important(!), a rainbow of colors.

Other pumps available at the time had press-on fittings.  If you've ever seen a Silca Impero or Zefal Competition (Think of the HP or HPX without the thumb-lock fitting.), those worked fine, as long as you had Presta valves and the rubber ring inside the pump fitting wasn't worn or cracked:  the connection depended on the tightness of that seal.

Zefal Competition:  Pour la gloire!

Not long after I first became a dedicated cyclist, Zefal came out with its HP pump.

Zefal HP from 1970's or 1980's

I think it's one of the more attractive pumps that's ever been made.  More important (yes, really!), they were solidly built and had a thumb lock that could be switched between Presta and Schrader valves, and gave an all-but-airtight connection with either one.  

Some years later, Zefal improved upon it with their HPX pump.  It was the same as the HP, except that the handle had a cam that could be twisted to lock out the spring, which allowed more of the force you used to actually go into pumping the tire.  

Zefal HPX from 1980's or later

The only problem with them (as far as some of us are concerned, anyway) was that they were all black.  Now, some black components and accessories look good on certain bikes.  The Zefal HPX was one of those accessories. However, if you had a bike with anything like a classic or vintage look, the HPX seemed out of place.  

For a time, they were offered in white and a couple of other colors, but not in silver or chrome.

Topeak came out with a frame pump--the Master Blaster--that was functionally all but a clone of the HPX.  It was also made in a tasteful muted silver with gray handles.  I have a couple of them.  They seem well-built, although perhaps not quite as well-built as the Zefals.

Topeak Master Blaster

I wrecked one of mine in a clumsy moment.  So, when I looked for a replacement, I found out that Zefal is making--in France, where all Zefal pumps have been made--the "HPX Classic."

The Zefal HPX Classic

Mechanically, it's exactly the same as the HPX.  However, as you can see, it would look more appropriate on vintage- or vintage-inspired bikes than the HPX or even the Topeak.  It's sort of a modern take on the old "Tricolore" Zefal Competition.

I've used the new pump once:  It pumps as easily as the HPX,and far more easily on high-pressure tires than any mini-pump I've tried.  (For the record, I still carry a mini-pump when I commute, as I can easily stow it in a bag when I park my bike. Also, it pumps enough air for me to ride to the next bike shop or gas station.)  Plus, it looks just right on my Mercians.

Getting the HPX classic is a bit like reuniting with an old friend.  And, if you don't like the logo, it's easily erased with nail polish remover.