06 March 2016

When You Spoke Of Good Wheels, There Was Just One Name

These days, if you are building a quality wheel, you are likely to use spokes from DT Swiss, Wheelsmith or Sapim.  I have heard arguments and seen a few flame wars (really!) over which brand is better, with partisans of one brand insisting that the others are good only for kebab skewers.


Me, I think they're all high-quality spokes.  All of my current wheels have either DT Swiss or Wheelsmith spokes on them; I don't have Sapims mainly because they're less available, at least here in the US.  Also, I should point out that all of my current wheels have round spokes:  I am not using any bladed or elliptical spokes. 

(I did, for a time, ride a radially-laced front track wheel I built with Wheelsmith bladed spokes.  I had no problems with them.  That said, I didn't ride any rough road surfaces on that wheel.)

One thing I find interesting, from the perspective of four decades as a dedicated cyclist, is that nearly all current high-quality spokes are stainless steel.  During the 1990s, titanium spokes gained some popularity along with bikes and other components made from the same material; today, bladed carbon-fiber or aluminum alloy spokes are found on low-spoke-count boutique wheelsets.  But for the past three decades or so, about 90 percent of quality wheels--and nearly all custom-built wheels--have been laced with stainless spokes from one of the manufacturers I've mentioned.

Back in the day, things were a bit different. (You can say that about just about anything, I guess, except for human nature!)  My first pair of custom-built wheels were composed from Super Champion 58 rims laced to Campagnolo Nuovo Tipo hubs with Robergel Sport spokes.




If you haven't heard of Robergel spokes, which were made in France, you probably don't remember the Tokheim Gear Maker or Durham "Camel" chainrings, either.  But Robergel Sport spokes had much more of a raison d'etre than either of those products.  So, for that matter, did Robergel's "Trois Etoiles" spoke--but more so the "Sport".

You see, the Sport was made in a way that almost no "good" spoke is made today:  It was zinc-plated.  The base material was a high-tensile steel that wasn't stainless.   If you were building a wheel for loaded touring or other rugged use (my first custom wheels took me on my first tour of Europe), you used Robergel Sports.

(The cheapest spokes then, as now, were cadmium-plated or not plated at all.)

Although the Trois Etoiles spokes were plenty strong--custom builders still seek them--and, let's face it, beautiful, the Sport was clearly the stronger spoke.  And, in those days, the Trois Etoiles was probably the only stainless steel spoke that could stand up to the rigors of racing as well as other hard use; those from other makers whose names you've never heard routinely broke. For those reasons, Trois Etoile spokes were used on otherwise all-Italian or even all-Japanese racing bikes.  Very often, a high-end racing or touring bike might have three French components on it:  Robergel spokes, Mavic or Super Champion rims and Christophe toe clips.

The main reason why the Sport and other zinc-plated spokes were used on wheels built for loaded or hard riding, or on bikes that weren't cared-for by team mechanics, is that stainless steel in those days was more brittle, even though it had more tensile strength, than carbon steel with zinc plating.  (A few companies made bicycles with stainless steel frames during the 1970s; their failure rate was high.) Also, if the spokes didn't have rust or tarnish on them before they were plated, they didn't rust during normal usage.  

They did, however, take on a dull finish that didn't even have enough charm to be called "patina".  That, I think, is the main reason why zinc-plated spokes have fallen out of favor:  If you wanted them to look good, you had to clean them, especially if you rode them in the rain.  

A few spoke makers--Robergel was not one of them--offered chrome-plated steel spokes.  They, of course, look nicer than zinc-plated spokes that have been in a couple of monsoons.  But quality chroming is expensive, and too often manufacturers take shortcuts or simply don't know any better.  And, because the cross-section of a spoke is so thin, doing the process properly is even more critical than it is, say, on a frame or a rack.

Chrome plating is actually porous.  Thus, if there isn't a proper under-coat, the steel underneath it is just as vulnerable to the elements than it would be if it were left bare.  Actually, improperly plating something with chrome is actually worse than leaving the underlying metal bare, for it allows rust to begin underneath the surface.  By the time the rust becomes visible, the damage is already done.  In the case of a spoke, it could break even before the rust becomes visible.

(Let me emphasize that I am not against chrome-plating on bicycles as long as it is done properly.  If the frame was made by a constructeur or other high-end builder, the chrome was probably done right.   You can't be as certain with mass manufacturers, particularly those at the lower end of the spectrum.)

There was one other short-lived attempt to keep spokes nice and shiny.  In the 1970s and early 1980s, an Italian maker named Redaelli offered nickel-plated spokes (which were also said to be made specially for Campagnolo hubs).  I don't know how long those spokes lasted in real-life use, for I never knew anyone who used them in real life.  For all I know, they might have been just as good as anything Robergel made.  But nickel does share an issue with chrome:  If the underlying steel was not free of rust, corrosion or dirt when the plating process began, the spokes could rust or corrode from within in much the same way as chrome-plated spokes.  

Whatever the fate of those Redaellis or the chrome-plated spokes I've mentioned, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that someone is still riding my old wheels with Robergel "Sport" zinc-plated spokes.  I don't know of any manufacturer that makes zinc-plated spokes for bicycles anymore; now most people think that if a bike has something that isn't shiny or doesn't have a carbon finish,it must not be any good.  As the saying goes, don't judge a book by its cover--or a spoke by its finish!



05 March 2016

An Apt-O Stem For Your NJS-Approved Bike?

These days, if a poseur wants someone to know he is a real, hardcore, badass track rider, he makes sure every single bolt and nut---no, forget that: the air in the tubular tires--on his fixed-gear bike is stamped "NJS".  

(I used the male pronoun because everyone I've ever encountered who fit the foregoing description was male.)

Now, I have nothing against anything approved by Japanese Keirin racing's governing body.  Why, almost everything on my fixed-gear bike has that NJS seal--even the brakes! 

(And, yes, I served with the Peace Corps in Paris.  Really, I did!)

Then again, I don't even pretend to be a track racer:  I just like riding on a fixed gear.  And I am not concerned with having the latest gee-whiz technology:  All I want from my equipment is high quality, reliability and a lack of unnecessary complication.  If it looks nice, so much the better!

Now, if I were a real old-school, firewater-drinking track racer, I would be riding with this on my bike:



This Cinelli stem allowed its rider to adjust the reach (from the stem to the handlebars) from 50 to 170 mm (1.9 to 6.7 inches).  As far as I know, it was offered only in a track configuration, with a deep (probably -30 or 60 degree) drop.  So, as the stem is extended, the bar is also lowered. That would make sense on the track or, perhaps, for a road race that includes a time trial, as someone who is riding in a more spread-out position would probably want to ride in a lower position as well, for aerodynamics.  

Such stems also made sense at the time they were made--in the case of the Cinelli in the photo, from the 1940s until the 1960s--when team budgets were smaller and riders, as a result, might be riding the same bike for different kinds of events.  Other stem manufacturers, such as 3TTT and AVA, made similar items during that time, and earlier.  


Nitto made this seemingly-more-refined version (Yes, it was NJS approved) during the 1980s.  Since then, it seems that no stem maker has been willing to even touch the concept.  That is, until now:





3TTT, which made an adjustable track stem similar to Cinelli's, has just introduced a modern take on it.  Their new "Apto Pro" stem uses an oval steerer tube compartment to allow the stem to "grow".  Even with such a complex internal system, the stem has a rather sleek profile (I'd love to see it in polished, or even anodized, silver!) and a claimed weight of 77 grams, about half that of a typical threadless stem.

It all sounds very nice, but there is one catch:  The "Apto Pro" doesn't have anything like the range of adjustability offered by the old adjustable stems.  Instead, it comes in four different models that offer 15 mm of adjustment:  one for 70-85mm extension, another for 90-105, the third for 110-125 and the last for 130-145.  That means a team or rider can keep four stems on hand and have 75 mm of adjustability.  Also, the fact that they have faceplates on the handlebar clamps means that the stems can be switiched pretty easily from one bike to another.

For the moment, 3TTT plans to make it available only with a clamp that fits 31.8mm diameter handlebars.  The company has not yet disclosed a suggested retail price or when or where the Apto Pro will be available.

04 March 2016

Campagnolo Adapted Japanese Design; The Public Didn't Rally Around It

In an earlier post, I said that SunTour's invention of the slant parallelogram is one of the most important innovations in the history of cycling.  Just about any derailleur made today that has even a pretense of quality has incorporated the design, which was patented in 1964.  In the early '80's, you could practically hear other derailleur makers panting with anticipation of the day that SunTour's patent would expire, in 1984.  Within a year, Shimano was using the design in its new line of Dura-Ace derailleurs for indexed shifting.  Within another three years, all of Shimano's derailleurs would share their geometries with those of the SunTour VGT and Cyclone.  By the end of the decade, the other major derailleur manufacturers of the era--Campagnolo, Huret and Simplex--would also "borrow" the design as they tried desperately to reclaim the market share Shimano gulped down.

A sad irony  is that after all of those companies adopted the slant-parallelogram, SunTour tried to create an indexed ("click shift") system to compete with the Shimano juggernaut--two decades after SunTour developed an indexed system (and a cassette freehub) that, by all accounts, worked well but for which the world wasn't ready.  Sun Tour's new indexed system, which came out in 1987, didn't work nearly as well as Shimano's because SunTour didn't develop a freewheel or cassette--or a chain--that worked properly with their new derailleurs and shift levers.  Campagnolo made the same mistake with its "Syncro" (which some of us called "Stinkro") setup, in which indexed derailleurs sent stolid Regina chains clattering across imprecisely-cut teeth of Regina freewheels and chains.  Also, its first "Syncro" system used a modified version of its traditional dropped-parallelogram derailleur, which didn't adjust the distance between the top pulley wheel and the freewheel cog--vital for indexed shifting performance--as well as Shimano's new slant-parallelogram derailleurs with sprung top and bottom pivots.

Campagnolo Gran Turismo, circa 1971.  Don't you just love those red bolts? Unfortunately, they're the best thing about the derailleur.  Well, all right:  It was good for driving in tent pegs. I know, I did it.  From Speedplay.





I suspect that one reason why Campagnolo tried, in essence, to make their traditional derailleur design work with an indexed lever (which looked at least something like other Campagnolo levers of the time) had something to do with their experience with their Rally derailleur of a decade earlier.

SunTour VGT-Luxe, circa 1973.  From Disraeligears


Before SunTour came out with their slant parallelogram rear derailleur, most wide-range gearing systems--like the ones found touring bikes--didn't shift quickly or precisely.   After SunTour's Grand Prix, Competition and V-series derailleurs entered the market--at the dawn of the North American Bike Boom--Shimano, which was a very minor player in the bicycle components market, wanted to compete.  They couldn't copy SunTour's design for another two decades, so they found ways to modify Simplex and Huret's designs.  The result was something called the "servo pantograph", in which the parallelogram dropped at least somewhat (like Simplex) and the top pivot was sprung (Huret).  The resulting derailleurs--which would become the long-armed Crane and Titlist--shifted reasonably well over wide ranges--better, at least, than the European wide-range derailleurs but not as well as SunTour's.

Shimano Crane GS, circa 1972.  From Disraeligears,


Even so, the Shimano Crane and even the Titlist were seen as "better" derailleurs than the SunTour V and V-GT because they were more expensive and, to some eyes, more attractive.  That might be the reason why Campagnolo modeled the first edition of its "Rally" touring derailleur on the long-caged version of the Crane. 

Campagnolo Rally, circa 1975


I actually used one of those early Rally derailleurs for a time.  Once it was broken in (its parallelogram pivots had bronze bushings like the "Record" series derailleurs), it shifted about as well as a Crane--for about double to triple the price.

But certain segments of the European--particularly Italian--cycling community were not happy:  Up to then, the Japanese copied (with notable exceptions like SunTour derailleurs) European designs.  The reverse wasn't supposed to happen, or so they believed. 

Some of those who were upset that Campagnolo was making a "Japanese" derailleur (or, as one unfounded rumor had it, that a Japanese company was making it for Campy) felt vindicated when Rally derailleurs snapped in two at the "neck" just below the top pivot bolt.  Some Cranes and Titlists of the same era failed in the same way.  So, the Campagnolo birthers, if you will, believed that the design of the derailleur--which was Japanese--was to blame.

The second generation of Rally derailleurs addressed the problem by beefing up the "neck."  There were very few reported failures.  Then again, not many second-generation Rally derailleurs were sold.  Some who wanted all-Campagnolo touring bikes actually went back to using the Gran Turismo derailleur, which Frank Berto very aptly dubbed "Campy's Edsel".  Others--mainly in the US, and to a lesser extent in the UK--decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to equip their otherwise all-Campy bikes with a SunTour rear derailleur, which shifted much better, and lasted longer, than the GT or Rally-- at a fraction of the price.



Third-generation Rally derailleur, circa 1980



Although Campy's heart was always in racing, it didn't want to lose the high-end touring market.  So, some time around 1977, the Rally was redesigned.  Essentially, it had the same parallelogram as the Nuovo Record, but a longer cage.  Ironically, it mimicked a "hack" that many custom touring bike builders, particularly in England, devised:  They used to make long pulley cages to fit onto Campagnolo parallelograms.  In one way, it makes sense when you realize that the Nuovo Record was sturdier than almost anything else available (especially before SunTour came along) and mechanically simple:  an advantage when one is away from civilization!  Still, it didn't shift nearly as quickly or crisply as even the least-expensive SunTour derailleur, especially with bar-end shifters.

But at least it still pleased the blowhards purists.  And it would be another decade before Campagnolo "borrowed" a Japanese design again.  By then, Campy was desperate and the public was ready.


Spence Wolf grafted a home-made long cage onto this Campagnolo Record derailleur in the 1960's/