Mixed Feelings

According to UPS – the new bike is somewhere in Nashville, on its way here from Houston.  I’m very excited, but also gripped by a sense of, well, unfaithfulness to Hush, who has been my primary bike for most of my life. 

Hush is about 20 years old.  She was a great entry level road bike for her time (nothing comparable now-a-days) and I’ve logged thousands and thousands of miles on her.  She was mothballed for a time, and I rode 3-speed cruisers about town in Providence and GA.  So while she’s not a constant-ride bike for those 20 years, I’ve never “upgraded” over her by switching to a more recently manufactured bike.  Whenever I came across a later model road bike I gave it away – including a nice Lotus, a Puch, a Trek and ‘Quese. 

Even though I’ve upgraded much of the componentry on Hush (actually, now everything except for the cranks and the derailleurs/shifters – very nice SunTours), unfortunately there are two problems that are catching up with her; rust and fatigue. 

Right now there are points on every single tube where the finish has been chipped or worn away.  Cancerous rust is setting in.  There’s even one patch where my rear brake cable (which mind you is encased in plastic) has been minutely shifting each time I pulled the brake.  This small action has worn a path through the finish down to bare metal.  I think that says something about her general usage.  Even though I could have her sandblasted and refinished (for a lot of cash) there remains the problem of internal rust (top tube, rear stays) that the older steel bikes are subject to.  As I discovered when I was upgrading my brakes this summer, rust can be well hidden – my old steel handlebars were deeply etched by rust under the tape.

There’s also the problem of metal fatigue (which is compounded by rust).  Steel is quite springly, but has a limited number of flexes in the frame before it just deforms (won’t spring back) or breaks.  Also, at some point (when Hush was stored, I think) a shallow quarter-sized ding appeared on the downtube, a ding which has grown from riding action.  I took the unusual steps of hammering out the tube from inside (with a rod of slightly smaller diameter) and flexing the tube via vise grips.  It’s more or less retained it’s original shape, but I’d be a bit nervous about lending her to anyone to ride, and whatever life she had left in her frame has been drastically shortened. 

I think this has been evidenced by her recent tendency to spontaneously shift under load – a problem that’s caused by frame flex.  Basically the rear derailleur is held in position by a taught cable: loosen that shifting cable and the derailleur’s springs push it one way; tighten the cable by gathering it in on the shifter and the derailleur moves the opposite way.  When a rider is on a springy bike, or is very strong (I am not) their riding style can flex the frame, causing an “artificial” shortening or lengthening of that cable (which is attached and pivots on the frame at various points).  The result is that when you’re straining uphill, the bike has a tendency to jump up or down a gear at an inopportune moment.  Actually, when you’re straining that hard, all moments are inopportune.  This is not so much dangerous (although I guess it could be) as chronically annoying.  One solution is to reroute the cable along another path on the bike – more extreme bends accommodated by small wheels, like the old English 3-Speeds used to use.

At this point I could justify keeping Hush on the road a bit longer, for limited service, as she’s not 100% safe, but I’d rather have a more reliable bike, even if I have to shell out cash. 

Still, it’s the ending of an era.  Hush and I have been on some pretty bizarre rides over the years.  She’s taken me back and forth between Providence and Hartford, as well as providing a much needed means of escape during my teen-age years. 

**

As far as the new bike goes, I’d decided to get a bike that was much lighter than the 25lb Hush.  I also wanted decent componentry – somewhere high on the scale before the point of diminishing returns set in.  For non bike peeps, componentry means “everything but the frame.”  Most componentry is mass produced with Shimano being the most common components, and Campy being high end stuff.  There’s a definite point of diminishing returns.  If you’re racing professionally or even semi-professionally, it might make sense for you to choose something 20 grams lighter but $100 more.  However, a difference of only 3 or 4 pounds only will shave seconds off your time over a few miles.  Just seconds.  I will never need those seconds.  So I chose the Ultegra group from Shimano as my target; it’s light, reliable, and nicely engineered without being top - flight stuff; from my perspective and needs it offers the most bang for the buck – basically it’s weekend racer level stuff, much like Hush’s original (but now outdated) gig.

I’d have loved a “new” steel frame.  The most recent frames are made with different steels and different techniques which offer steel’s famous “just soft enough” ride with weight that can challenge aluminum – certainly in my usage category.   The problem is that they’re pretty expensive.   Most frames (Giant, Bianchi, Specialized, Trek, et. al.) are now made in Taiwan, in the same factories, out of aluminum, and are pretty interchangeable – they differ only in geometry, not metallurgical quality.  Further, many of them use “compact geometry” as opposed to the horizontal top bar of classic road bikes.  Actually, this is neither here nor there – since the frames are smaller, you have to use longer (and heavier) seat posts, erasing any weight savings in the frame.  All this is moot because the weight (past a certain point) does not make all that much difference anyway (seconds).   Basically I just prefer the look of the classic road bike.   

When you put all this together, I decided to not go down the steel bike route – too costly, even though I’d trade up in weight for the ride.  I figured I’d get a mass produced bike with decent components, but the cost always seemed too high at the local bike shops.  In the end, I went with a web-retailer that has low overhead and thus a low final cost to the consumer.  They have their own bikes manufactured by those Taiwanese factories, to specs near-identical to other, more expensive, roadbikes.  Since I’m buying from an online retailer, there will be no after purchase service, although the bike is under warrantee.  I’m pretty handy with the wrenches, so it’s not something I’m all that worried about.  I may have to create another home-made truing machine for the wheels though (2x4, an old bicycle fork, some dowels and clamps). 

The pricing worked out rather well.  If I bought only the Ultegra groupset from a retailer I’d have paid a bit more than I paid for the whole bike (set and wheels and frame).  While that may seem odd – Shimano sells to manufactures for less than they do the general public, and this place has few (that I can discern) costs.

I’m intrigued by the new frame I’ll be getting.  It’s aluminum with carbon stays.  Since aluminum flexes much less than steel, it will wear out more quickly (5 years?  10 years?).  However, it won’t rust.   The ride should be interesting a well – the frame will flex much less than steel, which could result in a harsher ride but a better power transfer.  The carbon stays and fork might mitigate whatever harshness there is.   Basically, the way I look at it is that I can always buy another frame and put the groupset on that if there’s a problem, and I’ll still come out ahead.  But I’ve ridden aluminum before (Trek) and really enjoyed the ride.  So we’ll see.  Plus I can always sue the pants off the retailer/mfg if they’re not legit.  Nice to have that option.

Well, that’s one of the topics listed below.  And the only one for tonight.