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!

Visit from Gypsy Nick and a Global Lael

Ready to embark on the Kokopelli Trail.

I've once again been lax on upkeep of this blog. However, a recent visit from world-cruising friends has spurred me to action. Nicholas and Lael returned from exotic locales to the U.S. at the beginning of the month, and paid us a visit. They have both toured extensively in many places; in my opinion something well worthy of envy, especially from my captive suburban vantage point. Therefore, whenever they hit our town, it's great to catch up with them and benefit from the glow of their journeys.

By the way, those of you interested in tales of distance and daring aboard two-wheels, would do well to pick up the latest copy of Bicycle Times, Number 25, in which Nicholas has a featured story about his travels from Alaska to New Mexico on his purple Pugsley last year.

Yes, that's Nick's story featured on the cover of Bicycle Times.

If you happen to encounter this traveling duo, a tasty dividend may be the reward of hosting them for a night or two. Fresh from a trip to Ukraine, Nick and Lael whipped up a traditional Ukrainian meal, complete with handmade varenyky. Delicious and fun. Big Sis really enjoyed helping them seal potato-based filling into dough pockets. At the end, they made a bolshoi verenyk (correct singular form?) out of the last chunk of dough.

A special treat of Ukrainian chocolate.

My humble bike barn served as R&R facility for their bikes, as the two travelers refitted their steeds for the journey ahead. An unused Salsa Anything cage of mine was pressed into service to replace Nick's cracked equivalent. They left me with a few worn parts that they replaced with new. Their old parts will assuredly find service on one project or another around here.

Nick's Raleigh XXIX+G partway through refurbishment. My 1967 Velosolex 3800 languishes in the background.

A little more than a year ago, I donated a set of NOS Suntour XC Comp shifters to Lael's nascent mountain bike. As of now, they've logged multiple thousands of miles on her Raleigh XXIX and appear to be ready for more.

Once Lael and Nicholas had at least partially caught up on some sleep and had gotten their bikes mostly in order, they were ready for the next leg of their adventures. Watching them pack up, it is readily apparent that they are seasoned and efficient in what they choose to bring and how they carry their gear.

Hard to believe that Nick's bike is loaded with all he needs for daily life, in addition to several bottles of Ukrainian vodka and other gifts for down the road.

Lael's bike has the look of a well-honed machine suited for whatever lies ahead.

As they rode away, Scout looked up as if to ask why we weren't going with them.

As an addendum, Nicholas helped me to hook up with a new-to-me micro four-thirds format Panasonic DMC-G3 camera body coupled with his own well-traveled Olympus 14-42 lens. As is evident on his blog, he has become quite an accomplished photographer in the past couple of years, and with this equipment, I hope to make improvements to my own skills.

Thanks for the leg up, Nick! Happy travels to you and Lael, and we look forward to your next visit.

Panasonic DMC-G3 as shot by my low-resolution phone camera.

Visit to Albuquerque, Part 1

Seven year-old dirt bikin' cousins; each sporting pink and polka dots in her own way.

Update: See Part 2 here.

It had been quite some time since we traveled to another place as a family. So, this past weekend we took a road trip to visit my brother Chris and his family in Albuquerque. Between the two groups, we have a lot of girls and a lot of bikes, so naturally this situation called for some riding. Luckily, Albuquerque has a lot of great places for bikes, and among the best for biking families is the Paseo del Bosque Trail.

Scout and Pugsley are just as happy in the warm and dry as they've been in the cold and snowy.

My sister-in-law Jen recently surprised my brother with a new bike as a gift: an enormous XXL 24-inch frame Surly Ogre 29er. It was the first new bike for Chris in 23 years. He gave me his previous new bike in 2006, after 16 years of heavy service. In the interim, he had been riding his original mountain bike that he bought with earnings from a job at Dairy Queen during high school, a 1989 GT Avalanche that I rebuilt for him several years ago. The old GT had been his commuter/do-it-all bike, going through numerous drivetrains and a couple of DIY paint jobs. He deserves a lot of credit for making do with an existing bike, but as with any infrequently maintained machine under constant use, at some point it just makes sense to start anew. When Jen asked me to surreptitiously help her in the search, I didn't hesitate.

Chris remarked that it took him a while to become accustomed to riding the new bike, and I don't doubt it. At six feet, six inches tall, it's probably the first bike he has had as an adult that actually fits him. Curiously, at 6'1", I was able to ride his Ogre without feeling too stretched out, and cleared the top tube, if only by a slim margin. However, I would likely feel uncomfortable on the bike in rough trail conditions.

A big galoot on a giant Ogre.

One of the many snazzy houses along parts of the trail.

After inevitably taking a bit more time than expected both in exploring the trail and in the general nature of any activity involving a gaggle of kids, we neared one of our planned stops. We were met by a familiar-looking Gypsy on a familiar-looking bike, who led us into the Old Town Farm. Nicholas and Lael are world-class bike adventurers who have lived on the farm along the Bosque Trail for much of their time in Albuquerque, where they landed long enough to spend the winter.

The Old Town Farm is an idyllic oasis along the river, full of gardens, animals, old buildings and sundry equipment. The two adventurers seem to lead charmed lives, as one would be hard pressed to find a more pleasant place to winter in Albuquerque. One of the features of the farm is Bike-In Coffee, a food and drink establishment housed in a vintage RV, and which caters to bike traffic along the trail. Lael and Nicholas are naturals to operate such an enterprise; their fine rhubarb cake, chai lattes, hot cocoa and conversation were much enjoyed by our horde.

Rolling past the paddocks on the way to the farm.

Bike-in Coffee would do well in a lot of places. Great idea and execution.

It's unlikely that many Pugsleys have seen as many miles and places as this one.  It's in need of a new owner, so if you're in the market for a well-equipped fatbike with good karma, contact Nicholas.

Lael's seasoned '08 Raleigh XXIX in the foreground, Julie's new-to-her '09 Raleigh XXIX in the middle, and Jen's '99-ish Gary Fisher Big Sur with a Trek tagalong.

24" Surly Ogre, Trek Mountain Lion, and Kona Makena.

Getting close to closing up shop for the day. Lael's got a new pair of the Clarks boots she favors for seemingly all things, short of winning ultramarathons.

Sky-high five. 

Meeting Nicholas and Lael on their way to the Colorado Trail last year captured her imagination on what can be done by bike. We'll be keenly following their European travels.

Jen and Rosa are under way. Doesn't Jen look like she could use a nice steel 29er with a more upright riding position?

The farm's circa 1938 or '39 Ford truck.

Nicholas and Lael have ridden in some very scenic areas along challenging routes, and in a broad variety of locales. As impressive is the way in which they live; life on a bike encourages material simplicity, and a portfolio of experiences accrues value more dependably than many other investment possibilities. While it's not feasible for many of us to pursue the same path, a lot can be said for attempting to limit material accumulation and enjoying life as it occurs.

I bought this Revelate Sweet Roll bikepacking bag from Nicholas, who is dropping ballast in anticipation of a new adventure. I hope to put it to good use this year.

Back on the trail, this time on a paved stretch, though I stuck to the dirt alongside. 

I chatted for a while with the rider of this heavily modified three-speed mixte, and only thought to get a photo as she rode away.

At the end of our ride, kids, adults, and even dog were tired and hungry. We ended up at El Pinto, a restaurant and manufacturer of one of my favorite brands of salsa. Overall, a great day in Albuquerque. Part II coming soon.