Dumpster + Stumpjumper = Dumpjumper

1988 Specialized Stumpjumper in size 21.5 inches, as found in a dumpster.

Please note that the following post will likely only appeal to and/or be comprehensible by the most bike nerdish among visitors here. You are hereby warned and/or welcomed.

I've fished many a bike out of dumpsters over the years. I don't generally go looking for them, but they often have a way of finding me. Some have been complete basket cases and others have only needed air in the tires. Yet, what never fails to amaze me is finding a decent quality bike tossed in the trash. Old bikes aren't like old computers, in that they never become completely obsolete or unusable. Old bikes aren't like old cars, in that they don't degenerate into egregious polluting money pits, but instead are cheap and easy to recondition. Old bikes aren't like old furniture or mattresses, in that they don't absorb unappealing substances from previous owners.

I can understand rationalizing the discarding of a less than functional department store bike that was never engineered to work well in the first place. That which is nearly useless readily becomes useless. However, bikes that were at least initially high in quality of materials and construction, unless mangled, are almost always repairable into good running condition. This goes doubly so for steel mountain bikes from the off road boom era of the 1980s; with sturdy tubing, user serviceable components, and lack of suspension, they're almost indestructible.

Don't get me wrong. I don't pine for the old days and I'm no longer the Luddite I once was concerning the evolution of bike design. I appreciate lugs and fancy steel, but I also know that great advances have been made in materials and technology, and that, venerable as they are, these sturdy old steel bikes are no match off road for something more modern, like my Salsa Horsethief for example.

On the other hand, I'm certain that with proper care the long-term viability of an old steel monolith will far outpace many modern bikes in the utility department, most likely to the tune of decades. There are far fewer things to go wrong with these old bikes as compared to newer bikes, and equivalent parts are still readily available. With components in good order, a set of lights, a pair of fenders, and some method to carry cargo, an old steel mountain bike can't be outmatched for usefulness.

Deore index/friction thumbshifters and Deore 4-finger brake levers.

Now for a little velo-pathology to explore how this bike may have traversed the past quarter century. This particular Stumpjumper seems to have spent much of its life dormant, stored somewhat haphazardly, and perhaps used intermittently. It has plenty of telltale signs of neglect, in the form of nicks and scratches in random places, probably from being leaned against things or falling against other items in a shed or garage, and a veneer of dried on grease and oil from infrequent maintenance. The underside of the downtube is mostly free of rock strikes and the drive-side chainstay shows little sign of chain slap, so I'd wager that the bike traveled most of its miles on smooth surfaces in town as opposed to rough trails.

Non drivetrain side. Notice the pronounced bend in the rear rack's shelf and support struts.

The remains of a decal that once proclaimed the bike's chromo tubing and Taiwanese manufacture.

That's a solid forged aluminum stem. They don't make 'em like that any more. The stem alone probably weighs more than a modern carbon frame.

Though this bike likely hasn't seen a lot of miles, it had no easy life. It spent enough time outside for the graphics to fade, and there is a bit of surface rust where the steel has been exposed due to paint chips. The components that are still present are without exception original and stock, even down to the grips.

The drivetrain and brakes are Shimano Deore, from back in the days when Deore was on the penultimate tier of Shimano's off road lineup. The cranks are in good shape, and the teeth of the very '80s Biopace chainrings look healthy. Bearings haven't fared as well, as the bottom bracket is indexed, and the headset is in poor adjustment. However, the open seat tube is not rusted, and the chain is oily and moves freely. The derailleurs look fine and move well, but the cables and housing are sluggish and gummy. The shifters are intact, though the mount for the left shifter is bent. The good thing is that all the components on this bike are rebuildable, and the bearings are easily replaceable if needed.

There are a few additions to the bike that have occurred over the years. Though now badly bent, a period concurrent, white Blackburn Mountain Rack was a common addition to many bikes of the era. There is evidence of bar ends once installed but now gone, a sign of an update in the early to mid '90s when bar ends enjoyed popularity. A cycle computer mount at the rear wheel, indicates this bike was probably used on a stationary trainer at some point. Bright red paint under the upper and lower Zefal plastic pump mounts along the back of the seat tube signal that they were probably installed at or near the time of purchase.

Drive side top tube.

Drive side down tube.

Non drive side top tube.

Non drive side down tube.

As its year of manufacture is the same as that when I finished high school, bikes much like this one dotted the college campus of my undergraduate career. Distinctive two-tone paint schemes, unique to 1988 and 1989 Specialized bikes, seemed omnipresent for many years.

This Stumpjumper is readily identifiable as being an '88, due to its under the chainstay u-brake, a feature adopted by most manufacturers for a brief period spanning from about 1986 to 1988. Builders and riders went crazy for u-brakes because of the clean looking cable lines and the u-brake's powerful stopping ability. The popularity abruptly ended once the same builders and riders realized that under the chainstay was a less than convenient location for brake maintenance and made for a tremendous mud and debris catchment area. I've owned a few such u-brake equipped bikes, and though the reason the design was quickly dropped remains potentially problematic, the brakes are dependable and powerful if properly adjusted.

I've yet to get my hands dirty with this Stumpjumper, but that I will rebuild it is not in doubt. I'm happy to have saved the bike from an ignominious end, and I know it has at least a couple more decades of service within its capacity. Whether it will be with me or with someone else is yet to be determined.

Bikes like this Stumpjumper are the antecedent to a growing renaissance of steel, multipurpose, high utility bikes, such as the Surly Long Haul Trucker and the Surly Troll, among others. While at present it seems absurd that a desirable Surly frame will ever make its way to a dumpster, 25 years ago it seemed equally improbable to one day discover a Stumpjumper in the trash. I can only hope that in another quarter century, I'll be the lucky one to find a crusty old Troll next to yesterday's coffee grounds.

I threw on a pair of wheels to get a visual. My parts bin came up short in the quest for a 26.6 mm seatpost. 

183 days and counting: Bike to Work Day

A little ride with Scout following the Bike to Work Day ride home.

Those of you who live outside the Denver area know that national Bike to Work Day occurred last month. However, for some reason the City of Denver traditionally conducts its Bike to Work Day in June, ostensibly because the weather is better in June than in May. Whatever the reason, today was Bike to Work Day in Denver. As is usually the case on this special day, there were a lot more people on bikes on the streets and trails around here. Curiously, bike to work day is one of the few days that many of the bike-y people I know are somewhat less likely to ride to work, mostly because many are working at bike-related events and may be required to drive vans or other motorized vehicles to haul tables and supplies. I, on the other hand, did no such thing. I rode my bike and talked with lots of bike-y people as they worked.

Activity at Civic Center Park just after Mayor Hancock spoke.  

Many snacks, stickers and other free goodies were to be had.

Coincidentally, today marked 183 consecutive days of me riding a bike. That means that I've officially hit half a year in my current streak that began late last year with the TSBC challenge. Today, like every day during the past six months, I rode in part for transportation, in part for convenience, and in part for fun. Early in the morning I was out the door with my single-speed Bean Green Surly Cross-Check, that I recently equipped with a new-to-me 16-tooth Surly cog to replace a 20-tooth antecedent. The new 16 seems to be well matched to work with the CC's 34-tooth Surly chainring. This gear combo returns a nice gain ratio to facilitate regular around-the-town riding.

Later, I went out with two of my girls; the babbling one and the fuzzy one. Along the trail we made a couple of discoveries. First, we found that people who use chainsaws can exhibit a sense of humor:

Happy stump.

Second, we made a trailside find of the canned liquid beverage variety:

These three survivors were rescued.

While making our way along a well-traveled trail, I spotted a tall Stella Artois can in the weeds along the side of the trail. I thought that the can looked like a good candidate for a new stove design featured on Vik's blog, which, as it turns out, was retired today. I picked it up, and to my surprise it was full and apparently untampered. A little farther along, I discovered another can, then another, and another. The cans looked as if they may have been either accidentally dropped or hastily ditched, as they had a few impact dents and scratches and one had been punctured. Considering the volume of traffic on the trail, it's unlikely they could have been there for too long. In any case, I'm chalking the three survivors up as a decent trailside find and will be enjoying them at some point in the future, once they have been properly chilled. Intact trailside found beer is free beer, and free beer is a cornerstone of our culture, after all. Not a bad conclusion to the day.

Ah yes. Back to the bike stuff.

No snow, but this ride was a lot colder than it looks in the photo.

Whenever my life gets busied up, this blog tends to take the brunt of neglect. I suppose it's only fitting that if something is going to wither, it might as well be a blog. After all, it's made up entirely of electrons, and electrons don't need much to survive. Still, neglect is neglect. I'll try to put things back on course, at least for the time being, with a potpourri of bike stuff from the hopper.

The Denver area has now officially had snow twice so far this season, yet it hasn't been enough to make fat tires worthwhile. I'm not complaining much, and I have a feeling that a solid blast of snow will be along soon enough. Regardless, my Pugsley remains my most often ridden bike around home as of late.

When I'm at work downtown, I invariably use Denver B-cycle. I do have a fondness for B-cycle's somewhat clunky red bikes, so around this time of year I soak up my appreciation for them before the system is shut down for the year, which this year will be December 14. I'm fortunate enough to need to get around to meetings and other things, so I ride a B-cycle most days. I always look at bikes, and sometimes I even remember that I have a camera on my phone to take a photo of some that I see. Here are a few that caught my eye recently.

The first is a Peugeot mixte of likely late '70s or early '80s vintage, with a lot of carefully chosen new parts installed by an obviously adoring owner. The arcs of the fenders perfectly follow the curve of the tires; evidence of a masterful installation. Plenty of chrome, gold and aluminum with a garnish of honey leather. Nicely done.

A well comported Peugeot mixte. Note the vintage-y, French-y reverse brake levers.

I like how it's all tarted up in a manner only a bike geek would appreciate or possibly even notice.
Gold looks good on a bike.

The next bike spotted out in the wild is a 1992 Stumpjumper FS, which was one of the first production bikes originally spec'ed with front suspension. The Specialized Future Shock was a badge-engineered version of the Rock Shox Mag 20. The frame of the bike was of good stuff; Tange Prestige oversized tubing. The bike also had a full Deore DX group including top-mount thumbshifters at a time when most other bikes in this range had already gone to trigger shifters, which are less desirable to me and others of my admittedly eccentric ilk. Back when they were new, I remember thinking this bike was a great value at about $850 or so, and others must have agreed, because it was not uncommon to see them out on the trail.

Several years ago I rescued a well-worn frame and fork of one of these Stumpjumpers from a dumpster behind a college apartment building on move-out day. I ended up building it into a rigid commuter for one of my brothers-in-law and I still have the functional Future Shock fork somewhere in my shop.

The specimen that I saw still had its original Future Shock fork, but the fork had apparently died and was resting in peace at the bottom of its stroke. The bike is apparently ill-sized to its current rider, with a bottomed out seat and what would appear to be a very long reach to the handlebar. Except for the limitations of the finicky air/oil fork, I would anticipate this era of Stumpjumper FS to live forever, much like its rigid steel ancestors.

I'd be willing to bet that the owner doesn't know this bike is a 1992 Specialized Stumpjumper FS.
Note the nicely yellowed pie plate.  

The last bike that I recently saw and took the effort to capture in a photo is a Surly Pacer in British Racing Green, though the photo doesn't make the most of the color. I went through a phase of a month or two in duration in which I thought a Pacer was probably my next bike. It's got nearly the tire clearance of a Cross-Check, but it's a little tighter, steeper and presumably faster. However, my interest in skinny tires has always been fleeting, and is part of a recurring cycle in which I eventually re-realize I'd much rather go for fatter rubber. This cycle coincides with a renewed admission that no formula involving a faster looking bike actually equates to a faster me.

The Pacer that I photographed had a dropped chain and a sort of loneliness about it. Maybe it was an undue influence of the cold, overcast day. Once again, this model of Pacer is an example of the long line of Surly bikes sporting a nice green hue.

Somewhat forlorn Surly Pacer in British Racing Green.

Riding a bike in the constantly changing environment of the Denver city center can be challenging, but it is a place in which discoveries are made every day. Apart from bike stuff, I like to try to capture some of the other things I encounter, so the following, in no particular order, are a few random things I've found interesting while riding during the past few weeks.

A full-sized American sedan mated to a motorcycle front end. I wonder what it says on the vehicle registration?

"No comment," replied this suburbanite.

A menu from a post-hipster café? A shopping list? A party recipe?

Along the lines of observations while out riding, but in a different vein, are the changing conditions for bikes on Auraria Campus in downtown Denver. Recently, Auraria Campus, which is an unusual multi-institutional home to three higher-ed entities including the University of Colorado Denver, Metro State University of Denver, and the Community College of Denver, opened its first cross-campus bike route, indeed its first area in which a bike could be legally ridden across campus. This is a major step and a huge improvement over a policy logjam reaching back a few decades, an accomplishment for which the campus deserves accolades.

The Curtis Street bike route is marked with diagonal stripes as it crosses a central pedestrian corridor.

Previously, bikes were only allowed where cars were allowed, which meant busy streets and vast car parking lots, both of which are of limited value for reaching actual campus destinations via bike. Although bike racks exist within campus, bikes were required to be walked from the campus perimeter to racks near buildings in the interior. Keep in mind that Auraria is a commuter campus with virtually no on-campus housing, and located in the core of the city. Broad car parking lots are a dominant visual feature, yet students, faculty and staff are ostensibly encouraged to use alternative transportation.

I discovered Auraria's implausible bike policy during my first week on the campus several years ago, when I was pulled over by a bicycle mounted officer and given a warning for riding on what appeared to be a multi-use path that intersects a multi-use path maintained by the City of Denver. I was riding slowly and courteously, and the officer was courteous with me, yet I was incredulous, as I'd never heard of a university campus where bicycling was not allowed.

Bike parking at the North Classroom Building was recently expanded, though it's already filled to capacity.

During the following years, I investigated casually as a student, and then officially as a member of the Chancellor's Task Force on Sustainability. I worked my way through various campus staff and administrators, but the origins and purpose of the bike exclusion policy were hazy and responses generally fell in two groups. One group of responses acknowledged that policies didn't allow bike riding for safety reasons, primarily to remove the possibility of bike/pedestrian collisions, but don't worry, you can still walk your bike anywhere. Meanwhile, squadrons of campus maintenance vehicles–golf carts, small trucks, large trucks, and ATVs–were and are still driven all over campus, driving on sidewalks and paths, weaving around pedestrians, sometimes at high speed. Apparently, somehow these much larger and faster vehicles do not pose a safety concern.

The second type of general response was that the official or campus administrator was completely unaware of policies excluding bicycling on campus, often accompanied by an admission that they had never even thought to ride a bike to campus.

After many years and through the efforts of many people, in the end, the policy logjam appears to be easing. Things seem to be changing for the better. The present situation is far from perfect, but we now have an East-West bike route, and a future North-South bike route has been hinted. An on-campus Denver B-cycle station is even planned for Spring 2013. However, the next logical, critical, yet somehow missing step should be education of campus occupants as to the purpose of the new bike lanes.

Whenever I've been on the Curtis Street bike route, pedestrians and parked service vehicles are omnipresent in the clearly marked bike lanes, even though parallel sidewalks, driveways, or service docks are nearby. Additionally, pedestrians inattentively walk into the lanes without looking, sometimes in front of approaching bicyclists. I don't like to think this way, but without a solid effort to educate all occupants of the campus regarding its new bike lanes, inevitably, any collision will probably be blamed on the bicyclist, regardless of actual fault.

Walking and talking is not uncommon on the Curtis Street bike route.

A delivery truck parked squarely in the middle of both lanes of the bike route, even though a service dock is close by.

To be fair to Auraria, delivery trucks are a common sight in Denver bike lanes outside of campus, too.

Magnetism of pink

A pink wildflower spotted while riding is reason enough for a stop and a smile.

Tour de B-cycle: closing day 2010 edition

The B-cycle Bombers ready to embark. Left to right: David B., Eric F., Mary M., Andy D.

I've been a regular Denver B-cycle user since the system opened in April of this year. Since then, I've been to all the stations multiple times (with the exception of a few added in the past couple of weeks) so I am probably as familiar with the system as anyone can be. However, I had not done the Tour de B-cycle, a challenge to ride to each station in the Denver B-cycle system, returning to your starting station, within 24 hours.

Today was the last opportunity to take on the Tour de B-cycle in 2010, because the system shuts down for the winter tomorrow. With a temperature hovering in the mid 20s F, a group of four of us began the quest at the Denver Botanic Gardens station at 8:00am. Along for the ride with me were Eric France and David Brand (who hold the distinction of being the originators of the Tour de B-cycle on opening day) and Mary Mlot. Mary was perhaps the most adventurous of the lot, having only found out about the Tour the previous day.

On a chilly quest to reach all 50 stations, with cheeks reddened by the cold and wind.

Being fairly familiar with the ins and outs of the Denver B-cycle, as well as the bicycle infrastructure of the city, I planned a route using Google maps designed to wind through all 50 stations smoothly and efficiently. The route took into account Denver's network of bike routes, lanes and paths, traffic laws, the bike policy of the 16th St. Mall, and the directionality of downtown streets. The planned route for our Tour is viewable here for reference, for those who may be interested in developing of a Tour de B-cycle of their own. Keep in mind that your next chance at an attempt is on March 1, 2011 when Denver B-cycle re-opens.

My trusty clipboard with customized maps and a checklist of stations. I shamelessly own my bike nerd-dom, however...

...just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, this device easily tops the nerd score of a mere clipboard. This is my Garmin FR210 hooked to its charger pre-ride, only because I didn't think to get a shot of it in action.

As an added level of data collection, I was accompanied on the ride by my new Garmin Forerunner 210 GPS-enabled heart rate monitor/watch. It's a geographic/health/fitness information enthusiast's dream tool. In an instrument the size of an ordinary watch, the FR210 is packed with a miniature GPS unit able to record and store routes, speed, elevation, heart rate and a whole lot more. The unit is ostensibly designed for athletic training, but definitely makes active transportation more fun and the results more informative.

You can view the route log as recorded by my FR210 is here: Tour de B-cycle: Dec. 5, 2010. With a reasonable degree of accuracy I know that I rode 31.62 miles with 2,024 feet of elevation gain, and burned 2,895 calories at an average heart rate of 133 bpm, all during the 6 hours 24 minutes and 15 seconds it took to complete the Tour.

Update: Here's an interactive version of the route recorded by my GPS:


The path is easy to follow along streets and paths, but the logged route looks a little ragged when skyscrapers and other structures interfere a bit with the GPS signal. Overall, it's pretty close to the planned route.

There were no shortage of things to see along the way, including historic landmarks and a selection of Denver's varied and impressive architecture. There were a lot of unique and random bits along the street, desperately in need of a new owner. For many of these items that new owner ended up being Eric, who found several very special things for a lucky young lady in his household. I happened upon a grouping of nice things for a young lady at my home too.

Eric about to retrieve a particularly lovely prize, found near the 11th and Broadway station. 

A set of building blocks on a bus bench for future construction projects at my house.

We managed to mostly stay warm throughout the morning, apart from some cold toes and drippy noses, but our spirits remained high despite the continued chill throughout the day. We checked off the stations in the Cherry Creek area first, then followed with the stations in the DU/South Pearl area. Next, we headed to Capital Hill, Denver Health and the area around the Denver Public Library. A photo log of our Tour is viewable here.

Riding down 16th St. Mall; at other times a no-no, but definitely in the affirmative on Sundays. Note the well-utilized cargo baskets.

We then moved on to the downtown stations, then the outskirt stations such as Pepsi Center, 4th and Walnut and toward the Highlands. Uptown and Five Points were next, followed by West City Park, Queen Soopers and finally the return to Denver Botanic Gardens.

We happened upon another group of Tour de B-cyclists led by Parry while at Five Points. Eric organized an impromptu B-cycle kazoo serenade with vocal accompaniment by all riders present, in honor of her birthday. Happy Birthday, Parry!

All in all, things went quite well, with only a couple of checkout issues among my riding partners. We encountered one full station where we couldn't check in, and a few inoperable stations, which we shot with a camera and logged via GPS to prove our presence. I personally enjoyed a flawless checkout record using my B-card with no technical difficulties.

Near the end I met up with Denver B-cycle number 420, an old friend from opening day that I had ridden a few times in the past seven months. It was now outfitted with a single leg kickstand for field testing.

Even with the cold weather, Tour de B-cycle was a great time. Already, I can't wait until Denver B-cycle reopens next year. Here's to sending Denver B-cycle's first operating season off with a victory lap around the city, and may there be many more to come. Thanks to everyone – proponents, riders, staff and volunteers – who worked to make Denver B-cycle a success, as well as all those who strive to make the city of Denver a better place for bicycling.

Triumphant, the intrepid adventurers returned to Denver Botanic Gardens after the conquest of all 50 stations.

Give a little, get a little

Big Dummy loaded down with books, boxes and an apple-munching, timeless classic-reading co-pilot

Every so often, it's time to redistribute the stuff that tends to collect around the house. Today's objective was to reduce some of the excess of books, clothing and other goods. Many of the books were those that she had outgrown, so she suggested that kids at her old preschool would enjoy them. We loaded up the Dummy and hit the town with three stops to make along some familiar routes.

We paused to say hello to our ovine neighbors

Things were going as planned until we ventured down an alley and discovered a perfectly good wagon and bouncing ball next to someone's trash. When she saw these items, our girl, who is a robust yet surprisingly sensitive kid said, "It breaks my heart that people throw good things away. They should give them to somebody else if they don't want them."

I've learned to be cautious of my own inclinations to pick up random but useful things that I find, a habit that is not always welcomed at home. But I challenge anyone to hear such an observation from a little girl, so earnest and profound for her age, and not end with the same result as I did. Needless to say, we now have a new (to us) wagon and bouncing ball. Both items will no doubt eventually leave our house, but it's a good bet that their exit trajectory won't be through the trash.

Rescuing free stuff can be its own reward

So your grandmother might have been a proto-hipster

Grandmothers and yarn crafts have a long-established association. However, knitting has apparently been co-opted by a younger, hipper crowd. Today I made my first encounter with what appears to be knitted graffiti. After a short Google search, I discovered that some people indeed use yarn as a medium for anonymous public expression.

I noticed what appeared to be a u-lock attached to the base of a Denver B-cycle station. However, upon closer inspection, I realized that it was in fact not a u-lock, but a knitted facsimile of a u-lock. I was a bit perplexed that someone would have taken the time to produce an item of fairly impressive craft and detail, perhaps spending a few hours to get it right, only to leave the fruit of this effort anonymously to the tender mercies of the public.

After mulling this phenomenon for a while, my initial bewilderment has evolved. I now feel that this type of non-destructive graffiti is probably of a complimentary nature. Imbued with some sort of appreciation for the Denver B-cycle system or bicycling in general, the anonymous creator is literally weaving their work into the bike culture of the city. The action requires considerable forethought, special materials and skills, and a time commitment. I understand the knitted u-lock is a random and transient piece of the urban landscape, but as a bicyclist and denizen of the city I can appreciate the effort involved. In the end, I have likely put too much thought into this, but I am a social scientist after all.

In case you're wondering, for the right price I am available for weddings, bar mitzvahs or parties.