No Longer On Guard Against Chainguards

Until recently, chainguards were anathema to most "serious" cyclists.  I think it had to do with the fact that the first derailleur-equipped bikes most Americans saw, in the early days of this country's bike boom, lacked that amenity. 

Chain guard on 1975 Schwinn Varsity

Or, it had a disc--like the one in the above photo- that was about as good at keeping your clothes out of the chain as fishnet fenders would be at keeping you from getting sprayed during a monsoon.

More than a few cyclists and mechanics--including the late Tom Cuthbertson, author of Anybody's Bike Book--actually advised removing your chainguard and, if you rode with long pants, using cuffs or bands.

For more than three decades, I rode bikes without chainguards.  In fact, the idea of installing one on any of my bikes scarcely even crossed my mind. 

Then, about a decade ago, there was a cosmic convergence.  All right, maybe it wasn't quite cosmic, but it was unexpected and perhaps serendipitous for makers and sellers of chainguards.  Around that time, a demand for "practical" bikes--including Dutch-style, English three-speed and Parisian porteurs--emerged along with an interest in vintage bicycles.  Folks like Chris Kulczyki, the founder of Velo Orange started rummaging warehouses, first in North America, then in Europe, looking for beautiful old chain guards like this one:

Mercier chain guard

I love that one, and others that have cut-out patterns and such.  I equally love the ones that are simply shaped and finished to fit with the overall aesthetic of the bike, like the one on this 1958 Motobecane Pantin Ladies' bike:

Pantin is the community on the outskirts of Paris where, for decades, Motobecane made its bicycles and mopeds.  It seems fitting as a model name for a city bike that's elegant enough for the most urbane boulevardier.  Such a person probably would not dream of riding without a chainguard! 


 

From Blogger To Advisor: A Reader Asks About A Mercian

If you blog about something for long enough, are you an expert on it?

(If you use "blog" as a verb, are you creative or just someone who didn't listen when your English teachers said, "Don't verb nouns!")?

Well, one of my regular readers asked for my opinion about a frame listed on eBay--a Mercian, of course.

Now, I won't tell anyone not to buy a Mercian unless it's the wrong size or has damage that can't be repaired.  The frame in question doesn't seem to fit in the latter category:

My dear reader says it's "a little on the small side" but rideable.  Some people don't mind, or even prefer, a frame that's a bit smaller than what's normally recommended for them.  There are legitimate reasons for that, and I wouldn't try to talk someone out of buying such a bike--especially if it's not available any other size.  (If you can't get the right size, too small is definitely better than too big.) Of course, my reader could get a new Mercian in the right size.  But, I think the reader likes the look--or, perhaps the spirit--of a vintage bike.  Or it may just be that the frame in question could be had for a good deal less money than a new one.

Speaking of which:  My reader wondered whether the price was "on the premium side."  Well, I told him, perhaps it's possible to find a similar frame for less.  But that might mean waiting, possibly for a good long while.   After all, there are only so many old Mercians--or any other old classic frames--being sold at any given moment.

I told my reader that if I were looking for another bike and it were closer to my size, I'd buy the frame in question.  I'd buy it even if I were simply looking for an interesting restoration project:  It looks like the frame has the old British-made TDC headset and, possibly, bottom bracket.  If I had the time and money to do a resto, I'd build it up with British-made parts like GB handlebars, stem and brakes, and possibly even a Benelux or Cyclo derailleur.  

I don't think my reader has any such plans.  I think I gave the best advice I could--although, in my heart of hearts, I think a Mercian is always worth it.

Three Rings I'd Never Seen Before

While trolling eBay, I came across this:

You could be forgiven for thinking, "another French bike". From the style of the paint, decals and graphics, it looks similar to many Gallic velocipedes of the 1960's and 1970's.

From what I can see, it looks like the sort of bikes the British used to call "club racers".  Most of the components--like the Normandy hubs, Simplex derailleurs and shifters and Mafac brakes--are what one might find on many basic ten-speeds, like the Peugeot UO8, that were exported to the US during its "bike boom".  However,  it has a tighter wheelbase and angles than basic bike-boom ten-speeds like the Peugeot UO-8.   

On closer inspection (or, at least, as close as I can make from the photos), this one--from Beha, a name I'd never before seen--is a little better than most club racers.  For one thing, it's made from Vitus 172, a maganese molybdenum tubing of slightly thicker wall thickness (and, arguably, of somewhat lower quality) than Reynolds 531.  Most club racers were made of the same sort of carbon-steel tubing as what was found on the U-08 and other bikes like it.  Also, the Beha seems to have forged, rather than stamped, dropouts. 

Another thing this bike has in common with other club racers is its tubular tires and rims, the latter made by Mavic.  Racers often used wheels like the ones on this bike--basic hubs, nice rims--for training.  In the days before Michelin came out with its Elan tire (and, simultaneously, Mavic introduced its "E" rim), riding fast almost meant riding tubulars.

But the most interesting part of this bike--at least to me--is this:

When this bike was built, it seemed that every maker of cranksets made a cotterless model on which the chainring was attached with three bolts, rather than the four or five that are standards of nearly all modern cranksets.  It makes sense when you realize that nearly all cottered cranksets with double chainrings were of the three-bolt variety.  So, too, was the crankset many regard as the nicest ever made:  Rene Herse's own.

I don't know when Herse stopped making his. (Now the Colorado company calling itself "Rene Herse" offers a replica of it.)  But it seems that after Campagnolo turned its three-bolt Gran Sport into a five-bolt crank in the early 1980's or thereabouts, the three-bolt design disappeared until the Herse revival.

The crank on the Beha bike is from Specialtes TA, which also made the better-known "Cyclotouriste" crankset.  I always thought TA's three-bolt crank was the prettiest of the genre, which also included models from Stronglight, Nervar, Shimano (the original 600 crankset) and Sugino.  

The TA came as original equipment on a variety of bikes, including the Motobecane Grand Record (on which it was teamed with Campagnolo Nuovo Record derailleurs) and Raleigh Competition (with Huret Jubilee).  On those bikes, and others, the crank came with two chainrings.  I never saw it equipped with three rings--that is, until I came across the Beha. I'd really like to see it in person.