There's always room for one more: DIY hanging bike storage

Lots of bikes don't necessarily have to take up lots of space.

Be forewarned, technical bike nerdery ahead. If you choose to follow the instructions, any outcome is your own risk and responsibility. Please don't attempt any construction if you are not confident in your skills.

Imagine that, one way or another, you've found yourself in a situation where you own more bikes than all your neighbors combined. Or, perhaps, you have a more culturally acceptable quantity of bikes (maybe shockingly as few a one), yet still find that you have more bikes than space for bikes. Alternately consider the not so farfetched possibility that you need to spatially justify a bike acquisition in order to maintain domestic tranquility.

In each of these cases, a better plan for bike parking could improve your life. Fortunately, a good solution is both cheap and easy, using utility hooks available at any hardware store, a few long screws, and some 2x4 or 2x6 scrap wood. You'll also need a drill, a saw, and some other common tools as needed.

The larger type hook on the left allows passage of fatter tires more readily, has a larger diameter steel core, and has a tougher coating than the standard type hook on the right. Bigger is better.

The above materials are combined into a bike hanging structure from which one or more bikes are hung from the wall by one wheel, thusly:

Alternating bars up/bars down for orderly and efficient bike hoarding.

The design of your bike hanging rig depends on a few factors:  1) the available wall space 2) the number of bikes you'd like to hang 3) the length of wood available.

The first step is to measure the length of wall where you'd like to hang your bikes. You'll need at least 20 linear inches of wall for every bike you want to hang. It may require even more space if your bikes have especially wide handlebars, which is the main determining measure. The minimum height of the wall is the length of your bike plus about 8+ inches, so as to keep the bottom tire off the floor when hung.

Next, is to measure and drill holes in the wood in which the utility hooks will be installed. In my experience, a distance between holes of approximately 18 to 20 inches works well to maximize used space while maintaining relative ease of bike removal when hanging bikes in an alternating bars up/bars down pattern. Therefore, the length of wood you'll need can be calculated as in the following example for a 3-bike rig with hooks spaced 20" apart:

• 3" (edge to first hook) 
• + 20" (first hook to second hook) 
• + 20" (second hook to third hook) 
• + 3" (third hook to edge) 
• = 46" board length 

Remember, the linear length of wall you'll need is longer than the board length, to accommodate the handlebars of the outer bikes. In this example, the wall will need to be at least 60 linear inches.

I used three 3 1/2" deck screws anchored in a wall stud to attach the 2x6 board to the wall. The more studs, the better, as they say.

Drill the first hole into the centerline of the wood, three inches inboard from the edge of the wood. Again, be sure to allow for the distance necessary for the bike's handlebar to clear the neighboring wall. Note that it is important to drill the holes for the utility hooks angled downward about 15 to 20 degrees to relieve stress on them, as the weight of the bike pulls them down. If installed perpendicular to the wall, the utility hooks will bend downward.

Note the hook angled downward.

I installed these hooks about 18.5" apart on center, in the days before the wide bars that I now so enjoy. I'd lean more toward 20" apart if I were to rebuild.

Subsequent holes should be approximately 18 to 20 inches apart. Once all the hook holes are drilled, it's time to mount the boards to the wall. I use 3 1/2" deck screws in every stud along the length of the board. Be sure that the screws are solidly in studs, as it wouldn't be much fun to have your bike hanging rig and bikes all collapse on the floor. It is beneficial to have a stud located near each end of the board. Use a level to ensure the board is parallel to the floor, and be sure to have it high enough so your longest bike's rear tire clears the floor. The utility hooks can be installed either before or after the board is screwed to the wall.

Two 29ers with 750+ mm wide handlebars are a little snug on hooks 18.5" on center. I may respace the hooks to be a bit further apart.

In the case that you've got fatbikes to deal with, such beasts still work fine for hanging. However, a standard utility hook won't work. Many hardware stores carry a variety of hooks that can successfully grasp a fatbike wheel. I found a heavy duty hook that is about 5" wide that fits the Surly Darryl/Larry combo on my Pugsley.

Pugsley peacefully coexisting with my 30 year-old Miyata. Wide bars on both.

Fatties fit fine.

Just about any bike can be hung using this kind of rig, so long as the bike isn't so heavy that it will pull the hook out of the board. To date, I've hung bikes up to about 60 pounds in weight, with no problem other than hefting a wheel up to the hook.

These hefty old Schwinns hang just fine.

So there you go. I can't claim that this is the definitive method for storing bikes, but I don't know of any other way that is as cheap, easy, or efficient. Bikes hung in this manner remain simple to retrieve for a ride, they won't fall over and get scratched against each other, and the positive aura emitted from a wall of bikes embiggens any aspiring bike barn. Such a rig can also keep an overly abundant bike herd orderly enough so as to support domestic tranquility, though your mileage may vary.

Quick DIY top tube frame pack

The pack took about 90 minutes to make in total, from measuring the frame to strapping it on.

After finding out how convenient frame packs are for carrying things, I had been wanting to construct packs specifically sized to other bikes. To this end, I put together a simple top tube frame pack, using materials that I had on hand for this first tester example. The pack is made of about 1/2 yard of cordura pack cloth that's been in my sewing kit for 20+ years, an old steel YKK 19" zipper, various scraps of Velcro, and some 100% polyester upholstery thread. I didn't produce detailed instructions, but if you are interested in building a similar pack, it's a simple process if you have at least proficient sewing skills. The design is essentially a box, shaped to fit the inside of the frame, with a zipper installed on one side.

Cardboard template for the frame pack.

To begin, I took a piece of cardboard, a pen, and a utility knife, and constructed a template of the inside of the front triangle of my 2002 58 cm Surly Cross-Check. The cardboard template guides the shape for each side of the pack. I made sure to mark the locations of cable stops, housing, bottle mounts, etc. so that the Velcro straps cleared them. To connect the two sides of the pack, I used strips 3" wide. On each piece of fabric cut for the project, I added .25" all the way around to account for the seam edge. I also constructed a flap over the zipper, to help protect it from rain, etc., though this pack is by no means waterproof.

The pack easily holds my trusty Stanley cook pot with enclosed pop can alcohol stove and fuel, among other items.  It's big enough to be useful for a picnic, a camp outing, or a small grocery trip.

The pack turned out fairly well, and fits the frame exactly as intended. The design worked well for fabrication, though I won't use the same materials for the next one. The cordura material is quite sturdy, though it's not nearly as light or water resistent as similarly sturdy modern materials, such as Dimension Polyant X-Pac. The steel zipper works well enough, but it's heavy, and its action is not as smooth as plastic. A modern water resistant plastic zipper will be part of the next pack I make. In the end, I learned a bit about how I'll make subsequent packs.

The pack is not wide enough to get in the way of riding.

The right side has no zipper.

The left side has a zipper. Why the left? I'm left handed. Make your own pack how you like.

With the pack installed, there's still plenty of room for water bottles below.

Re-tubelessifying the Monocog

Nope. No sealant. Dry as a bone.

Last fall, I went tubeless with my Monocog as a test with the low budget do-it-yourself method. I've since ridden this super dependable bike nearly daily, on many different surfaces, including goathead infested Albuquerque. In all that time, I never had a flat, until a few days ago.

Off and on, I'd been wondering what was going on inside the tires during the past nine months, so when I went out to the bike barn and found the rear completely flat, it was a opportunity to take a peek.

First I tested to see if there was an obvious, egregious leak by pumping it up. The tire held air fine, though it lost much of its pressure in a few minutes. So, I popped one of the beads open and discovered that the Stan's sealant had disappeared.

I suppose it's more accurate to say that the pool of sealant inside the tire was no longer present, but lots of goo was adhering the bead to the rim. A puddle of sealant, or tire blood as Big Sis likes to call it, is essential to tubeless tire health by coagulating into small leaks, so its absence was the likely reason for the flat.

While I was at it, I was wondering how the Gorilla Tape was holding up, so I pulled the tire off to inspect. After carefully going over the whole surface, things looked good. The single layer of tape was still strongly adhered. Along the way, I cleaned as much goo off the rim as seemed practicable, paying special attention to the bead seating surfaces, so reseating the tire would go smoothly.

I also cleaned the tire beads, ending up with a pile of Stan's sealant boogers.

After I remounted the tire, I hit it with a shot of compressed air. Both beads popped confidently into place and the pressure held well. Bingo. So I cracked open one of the beads and added two ounces of fresh Stan's to the inside. Shake. Spin. Ready to roll for another several months. I'll just have to remember to have some valve stems with removable cores on hand next time.

In all, remarkably quick and easy, especially considering the epic struggle with the same brand of tire and rim that I experienced not long ago. In the end, it's been well worth the time investment, and gets easier each time.

Now, for no particular reason, some recent photos from my yard.

Quick and easy handlebar plug

Now all I need to do is polish off another bottle.

Wherein I pit my wits against inanimate objects and prevail, eventually

A goat head thorn in an all-too-familiar pose.

Sit back as I relate a story of misfortune and disappointment, followed by fleeting success, then more disappointment, and finally an apparent victory. It promises to be either a cautionary tale or a triumphant soliloquy.

After a trip to visit my brother in Albuquerque a couple of months ago, our bikes sat forlorn in the bike barn with tires and tubes pierced by hordes of remorseless goat head thorns. My Monocog was one that had been struck, as evidenced by dozens of thorns remaining in the tires. However, the Monocog had been given the tubeless treatment, in effect inoculated against such an onslaught. I pulled many thorns from the tires, yet left a few in; those that had lost their heads and were difficult to remove. Though the tires had lost some pressure, I aired them up to 40 psi and took a short ride. By the end of the ride, Stan's sealant was seeping and coagulating in the many wounds, while the pressure held. Within a few days, any remaining embedded thorns were neutralized.

Goat head thorns in a WTB Exiwolf tire on my Monocog. Note the embedded thorns near the center of the tire.

The same tire after some inflation and spinning. See the Stan's sealant working its magic?

Julie's bike, a Raleigh XXIX was equally afflicted with many goat head thorns having deflated both tires. The difference from my Monocog was that her bike's tires had standard tubes, which were mortally wounded, with far too many holes to attempt to patch. It was then that I realized I had a half full bottle of Stan's sealant, a roll of Gorilla tape, and the resources to make her bike tubeless. I was veritably beating my chest with enthusiasm in the task.

Beaming in my confidence and full of the desire to impart some fatherly skill to be one day valued, I summoned my ever capable assistant. With relish, she took to tire wrangling as she has done since shortly after her birth.

The seal on that bead stood no chance against this 8 year-old with a Park tire lever. The fact that she counts this dress among her favorites brings a tear of pride to ol' Daddy's eye. 

Feeling for thorns protruding on the inside of the tire. Atta girl!

The rear tire gets the same treatment.

 In short order, we had removed the old tires, cleaned the rims with rubbing alcohol, lined the bottom of the rim channels with gorilla tape, and fashioned some repurposed valve stems from unusable tubes. As I started up the air compressor, it seemed as though we were cruising to completion of the project.

Cleaning the inner rim surface. 

A valve stem in a tube about to be repurposed for tubeless use.

Do-it-yourself tubeless tools of the trade.

Valve stem in place.

It was then, that the whole project took a turn for the worse. Even with the power of an air compressor, I couldn't get the beads to set. I tried every trick I knew. I applied water to the rim and bead to no avail. I wiggled and contorted the tire/valve/compressor nozzle interface with no luck. I emptied tank after tank of compressor air into the tires without seating any beads.

I couldn't understand where the problem arose. With a very similar setup on my Monocog, the process could not have been easier, with the tires holding air confidently on the first try. The Raleigh's tires, on the other hand, refused to cooperate. Both bikes had WTB rims of the same model, though not the same year of manufacture, both bikes had WTB not-necessarily-tubeless tires (Stout 2.3 on the Raleigh, Exiwolf 2.3 on the Monocog), and both bikes had the same Gorilla Tape/reclaimed valve stem rim sealing job. After several attempts, I gave up in disgust. The transfer of fatherly knowledge had been derailed.

After a few days of thinking and scheming, I vowed not to retreat. It was time for the split tube method. I dug up a pair of sacrificial 26-inch tubes that had been patched multiple times along the tread perimeter, which wouldn't make a difference for my purposes. Then my assistant and I got to work, slitting the tubes down the outside seam, then cleaning any talcum powder from the rubber. Next, we mounted the flayed tubes on the rims to serve as giant rim strips to be cut to fit later.

Filleting the tubes along the outer circumference molding seam.

This step must be done carefully to avoid damaging the tube.

A tube, split and cleaned. 

A split tube mounted on the rim; ready for a tire to be installed.

Note that the split tube is centered along the rim channel.

Adding two ounces of Stan's sealant, or what she likes to call the tire's "blood" as it serves the same purpose as plasma and platelets in forming scabs to patch holes. That's a biology lesson right there, folks.

The doctor applies the syringe to a patient.

Again ebullient with our pending success, I started up the compressor. Within a few minutes, discouragement began to set in as the beads still refused to seat onto the rim. I repeated the old tricks, but the outcome remained unfavorable.

This time, I would not be defeated. It was time for a change in tactics, as I decided to bring more insistent methods to bear. A faint whimper might have been audible as the tire met the ratchet strap, but I assure you it didn't come from me. However, maniacal laughter, I will not deny.

With a fresh round of compressed air, the ratchet strap applied a positive force to seat the bead to the rim, and any resistance was overpowered. Victory was ours, as the beads popped loudly into place. We spun and shook both wheels to coat the inside of the tire/tube strip interface with Stan's sealant, and laid them on buckets. Over the next couple of hours we repeated the process, adding air as necessary until a constant pressure held. When all seemed right with each tire, I trimmed the excess tube from the tire/rim junction.

At last, parental knowledge transfer through tubeless triumph was achieved!

Getting medieval on it.

Check pressure, add air, shake and spin, rest on a bucket. Repeat.

Trimming the excess split tube.

I am happy to report that the final outcome has been in service for about a month, without negative relapses. Realizing that many people have experienced similar struggles in the quest for tubeless-ness, this is just one story. However, I hope that it will serve as encouragement to others to persevere in the face of adversity. I, for one, am wiser for the experience, and enjoyed some valuable kid/dad camaraderie.

Next up on the tubeless quest will be an attempt to finally do it the right way, for once, with all officially sanctioned tubeless parts. Stay tuned!

Wherein I venture into the world of big wheels

Black and yellow 2008 Redline Monocog 29er.

For more than a year I've conceptually evaluated the idea of myself on 29-inch wheels. I've had intermittent rides on several big-wheeled bikes, interplayed with a continuous internal discussion weighing the tradeoffs of wheel size, proportions, etc., and underlaid with convoluted self-justification for bike acquisition. All the while, I've been selling off underutilized bikes and equipment with a goal of more easily managed rolling stock. When a used 2008 Redline Monocog 29er frameset showed up on Craigslist priced entirely too reasonably, my last excuse was vanquished.

New-to-me 2008 Redline Monocog 29er, size XL (21").

As long as it has wheels and she gets to run along with it, Scout approves.

I really like the Monocog's Atari-esque '80s style graphics. 

The plunge was made easier by the fact that since I'd been clearing out the stable a bit, I'd built up a decent bundle of bike spendable loot from the proceeds. At the same time, many of the parts to build out the frame had either been in my stash for years, or had recently shown up, meaning that it wasn't much of a stretch to finish out the build. However, instead of just using only whatever parts I had on hand, I decided to splurge a little. The Monocog would be more than a personal testbed for 29" wheels, but also for a few key pieces of equipment that I've been wanting to try for some time. After cleaning and waxing the frame, I got down to the fun of putting it all together.

Nothing groundbreaking here, just dependable Avid BB7 disc brakes; 160mm rear, 180mm front. The Redline chain tensioners make for rock solid wheel placement. A 20-tooth Surly cog is obscured from view. 

Even though the frame came with a square taper bottom bracket, I opted for the 175mm TruVativ Firex crankset Gypsy Nick left with me during his last visit. I installed a new Surly 32-tooth ring and a bash ring.

VP Components VP-001 pedals are much flashier than their name implies. Gold, of course, to complement the Monocog's Pac-Man graphics.

Nicely wide Salsa Rustler Bar 2, Ergon GP1 BioKork grips, and Avid levers finish off the controls.

As I was making plans for what I wanted to do with the Monocog, a non-negotiable element was to be a wide handlebar. I'd initially wanted to find a 780mm wide Salsa Whammy bar that I so enjoyed on the Surly Krampus, but they seem not to exist outside of the stock Krampus parts kit. Instead, I discovered the 750mm wide Salsa Rustler 2, as newly spec'd on the stunningly cool Salsa Horsethief. The Rustler features the same 11 degree backsweep as the Whammy, but with a preferable (to me) 15mm rise and 6 degree upsweep compared to the flatter Whammy.

The Salsa Rustler bar does not disappoint. The frameset came with a no-frills Redline 100mm stem with a 31.8mm clamp area that, when mated with the Rustler, makes for a super stable and confidence inspiring tiller. I can't believe I rode with much narrower bars for so many years, as was the style beginning in the late '80s and continuing for a couple of decades. I remember having bikes back in the old days with bars in the 540mm neighborhood, some of which I cut down even further for some long forgotten reason.

I finished off equipping the frameset with a few odds and ends from my parts bin, including a Thomson Elite non-offset 26.8mm seatpost, a Specialized saddle, the single-speed WTB rear wheel from Julie's Raleigh XXIX, an off-the-shelf WTB/Deore front wheel, and a pair of barely used WTB Exiwolf 2.3" steel-bead tires. Decent, pragmatic, journeyman-type parts to mix in with the sparkly, splurgy new bits.

However, I wanted to enter the 29er world fully, and felt the transition demanded something more. In this new world, tubes would be a thing of the past. I explored the options and decided to go with what some term 'ghetto' tubeless, but what I will call, for a more enlightened audience, 'handyman' tubeless. I pieced together the process from a number of online resources, of which vast numbers can be found with a quick search. It seems to me that the 'handyman' method has many more than one correct answer, much like any handyman endeavor.

At this point I'm certainly no expert, but I'll outline what worked for me in the following photos.

Start with the bare rim. I inserted the wheel in a truing stand for convenient access, then cleaned the rim with rubbing alcohol and let it dry.

One inch (25.4mm) wide Gorilla tape is inexpensive and comes in a roll long enough for about four 29er rims.

The Gorilla tape fit just inside the bottom of the channel of my WTB Speed Disc rims (labeled 26mm) just right, without going up the sides where the tire bead will be seated in a subsequent step. I overlapped it about 6 inches at the valve hole.

I cut an x-slit in the tape over the valve hole. I then cut the Presta valve assembly out of a damaged tube, and inserted the valve through the slit in the tape. Next, I  tightened the valve stem retainer nut down to force the rubber around the internal valve opening into the rim channel, making a seal. 

The next step is to install the tire (sans tube) on the rim, and thread on a Presta to Schrader adapter, if, like me, your air compressor is Schrader only.  

These items come in handy.

At this point, a test inflation helps to determine if your tire/rim combo will work tubeless, or if it will need some adjustment. I used the compressor to air up the tire, quickly at first, then somewhat more cautiously until I heard a couple of popping sounds signifying the air pressure seating the tire beads on the rim. Most resources agree not to inflate to more than 40 psi, lest risking the bead blowing off the rim. Sometimes a little soapy water on the tire bead can help it seat. With the tire/rim combo holding air, the test is a success. On to adding some sealant to make sure that the air stays put, regardless of what the tire may encounter. The next step is to pop part of the bead on one side of the tire to the outside of the rim, in order to make a gap to inject some sealant.

I used a little more than 2 ounces of Stan's sealant per tire, assisted by a syringe. Once the sealant is in, pop the bead back into the rim and air it up again. Remember, 40 psi max.

Once the sealant is in and the tire full of air, spin the wheel around, twisting and turning it to ensure sealant is spread all over the inside. The sealant quickly found and patched a hole in the tire, as evidenced by the gooey spot on the tread in the photo above. Hooray! 

I've now been riding the Monocog for a couple of weeks, and have really been having a lot of fun. With a single gear, I know that the bike's performance anywhere vertical would suffer, mostly due to the limitations of its human engine. However, it's fast on the rolling suburban dirt trails around where I live, and the simplicity of the whole setup makes me feel a bit like a kid on a BMX. The handyman tubeless setup has been working flawlessly, and I've since found some home brew sealant recipes that I may try sometime down the line.

I will say that even at this early stage, I have to deem this experimental testbed a success. Unsurprisingly, I've confirmed that the big 29" wheels feel more proportional to my body size than standard 26" wheels ever have. The bike also has an instant familiarity to me similar to that of my Pugsley, with its similar rolling diameter on 26" x 3.8" fatties. Added to that, it is astonishing how a wide handlebar creates a nearly perfect symbiosis between rider and bike. If you've never tried wide bars and are an XL-sized dirt bike nerd like me, going wide may change your off-road life forever. Any dirt bike with a bar much narrower now gives the impression that I'm on a tiny circus bike.

So far, I'm really impressed with the Monocog. Though its straight-gauge 4130 chromo steel tubing makes it ipso facto not a light weight, the bike feels well balanced and spritely, which is what matters to me. I don't know what it weighs and don't particularly care.

Time will tell what the future holds for this bike. Perhaps some gears at some point, possibly via internal hub. Maybe a 100mm -ish suspension fork. Hopefully some camping. In the mean time, I can say with confidence that the Monocog is vying for top ranking with the Pugsley as the best dog bike in the household, and will likely rack up more than its share of outings over the coming months.

Test fit: a Revelate frame pack built for a 20-inch Pugsley on the XL Monocog.