Trail Lael and Gypsy Nick

It's always cool to hang out with a personal hero.

Over the weekend, our friends Nicholas Carman and Lael Wilcox paid us a visit on their way to the Colorado Trail. They had a new bike to put together, and a lot of equipment to sort out, so made use of my bike barn for a couple of days. In between, we talked and hung out a bit, hearing of their adventures and some first-hand detail about Lael's recent victory in the 2016 Trans Am Bike Race.

Nick is a great mechanic, and an inspiration to watch.

Helping Lael set up a big tubeless tire.

The big box was a big hit.

The school bike now features hand-me-down pedals and frame bag gifted from Lael.

The Adventure Cycling Association has no better spokespeople than the dynamic duo of Nick and Lael. Their knowledge is vast and enthusiasm boundless when they're talking of their passion for seeing the world on two wheels. Nick planted some seeds of thought about the feasibility of a family ride along the Great Allegheny Passage trail to the C&O Canal Towpath from Pittsburgh, PA to Washington DC. It amounts to nearly 350 miles of trail without any car traffic, and free US Forest Service camping along the way. He also told me of BikeFlights.com as an affordable way to get the bikes to the trailhead, which is a great resource for anyone traveling with a bike.

Lael and Nick have certainly been busy since the last time they stopped by. Their selection of bikes and equipment has greatly evolved, and they've put many thousands of miles under their wheels. The future looks to be just as busy. They're set to appear at Interbike in October, and to lead the inaugural mass start of the Baja Divide in January. The Baja Divide is a route that they scouted, pioneered and documented along the length of Baja California, as a gift to the bikepacking community. Happy travels, and looking forward to your next visit.

I always enjoy discovering what the bike shop pixies leave behind after a visit.

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.

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.

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!

367 consecutive days on a bike, and counting...

My bike barn in the gloaming of a late Fall sunset.

This oft neglected blog has once again fallen by the wayside in the face of all of the things that tend to demand attention toward the end of the year. However, I would be remiss not to report that I've crossed over the symbolic milestone of having ridden a bike every consecutive day for more than a year, of this past Tuesday. Counting today, the number stands at 367. It all began with the TSBC Challenge last year.

I have long had bikes as a pivotal element of my life, but had never kept track of a streak of consecutive days ridden. I don't track miles ridden, as that isn't really feasible for me, but none of my rides in the past year could be considered particularly noteworthy. Most were fairly antithetical to being epic, with rides on the majority of days capturing some combination of transportation, research purposes as part of my job, social activities, dog exercise, or family fun. Regardless of purpose, I feel better after every ride than I did before.

During the past year, my bike experiences have included:

• riding nearly every bike I own (causing me to evaluate those that weren't ridden)
• riding some bikes that I do not own, most of which were borrowed from bike sharing programs
• selling or donating several bikes and buying a few, for a net total of fewer bikes at my house than this time last year (seemingly counterintuitive, this is progress toward a goal)
• seeing my younger daughter take her first ride on a balance bike
• watching my older daughter blossom into a mountain biker
• encouraging others around me to enjoy riding bikes, too

My ride on the 365th consecutive day was poorly documented photographically, and included just Scout and myself. However, on the 366th consecutive day, counting myself there were nine human and one canine companions dispersed over eight bikes with five different tire sizes. I like riding alone, but it is also fun to be part of an impromptu bike parade, mostly outfitted with bikes from my household. 

My niece on her new-to-her big kid 24" mountain bike that I was commissioned to refurbish. She's a natural dirt biker.

A handful of cousins stacked up at the starting line for our ride. Note many are still in pajamas, well into mid-afternoon.

My brother Chris rode the Dummy with his five year-old daughter, freeing me up to get some pics. 

On our ride, the popular request was to hit the local dirt tracks. Many circuits by many kids ensured plentiful fun. We are fortunate to have some great dirt trails a short ride from our house. Such is a benefit of life in the suburbs.

20-inch wheels.

26-inch wheels.

24-inch wheels.

16-inch wheels. My six year-old nephew was undaunted with being matched up to a pink girl's bike with basket and fenders. Nobody in our group took more challenging lines down the trail or relished going fast more than he did. 

29-inch wheels; speckled medium-sized paws.

I'll likely continue to count the days that I'm on a bike until, inevitably, I miss one. However, I have several internal and external motivators in place to make it unlikely that I'll miss a day for some time to come. An unanticipated bonus has been that I've remained remarkably healthy this past year, only getting a single cold in October. I don't know if I can attribute the drive to ride every day to keeping healthy, but it probably didn't hurt. 

I plan to enjoy the sun as much as possible, especially during these winter months. Here's to a fun and bike filled 2014 to everyone out there.