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.

New old 3-speed: Dahon Classic III

1988 Dahon Classic III

Meet a Dahon Classic III folding bike, fresh from Craigslist. I always like making bike finds of this sort; virtually unused time capsules that have spent decades in storage out of the elements. This bike could not have been ridden more than a couple of miles since new, some 28 years ago. It had a film of grease and dust, incidentally protecting the finish, as well as mostly dry bearing assemblies. A bit of time with some rags brought back its gleam, and a date with some tools and a tube of grease will take care of the bearings. It has a pristine Sturmey-Archer 3-speed AW hub, date stamped 87-8, for August of 1987.  I'll get to know the hub much better, as I rebuild it to ensure it is functioning optimally after a long period of disuse. Best of all, in short order there will be one more vintage 3-speed back on the road.

This bike isn't mine, as I found it for my mom who plans to bring it with her in a mini RV for wide ranging travels in the near future. However, I was surprised that at my height of about 74 inches, I could extend the saddle and handlebar enough to ride it comfortably. So could Big Sis, who at a foot and a half shorter than me, was an eager test rider.

I'm somewhat familiar with newer folding bikes, but was surprised at the quality of build and engineering incorporated in this bike, a design that originated nearly 40 years ago. Newer versions are lighter, faster to fold, and offer more features, but Dr. David Hon really nailed it when he envisioned this catalyst for intermodal transportation. If you're in the market for a folding bike and don't want to spend a lot of money, you can't do much better than an older Dahon like this, provided it's in good condition.

Below are some photos of the bike to dwell in the cloud in perpetuity for anyone searching out details of a vintage Dahon Classic III.

Ready to ride...

...and folded, for comparison.

Sturmey-Archer shifter in great shape.

Note the asymmetric design of the handlepost brace.

The Lee-Chi caliper brakes on chrome steel rims function remarkably well. 

Folding crank arm on the drive side. 

The head tube is just a squat cylinder. Wheels are 16-inch. Everything is stock original.

Serial number stamped on the top of the bottom bracket shell. Directions on how to interpret the date codes are here.

Shiny Sturmey-Archer AW 3-speed hub.

A little caster wheel folds down so that the bike can be rolled when folded.

Bottom of the headpost assembly, with a hinge that folds to the left side of the bike.

An astonishingly narrow front hub. I haven't yet measured it, but I've never seen one so narrow. 

Badge above the reflector on the rear fender.

Right side of the bike, when folded. Note the caster wheel.

Right side of the folded bike. 

View as folded from the rear, or front, depending on your philosophy.

Folded, from the top.

Approximately 56" tall rider.

Blurry pic of the new owner.

Public service announcement: 1991 Diamond Back Master TG seatpost size

Yep, it reads 27.0 mm on that Avenir 4130 steel seatpost.

 Per request from a reader, here are some images of the seat tube cluster on my 1991 Diamond Back Master TG. As these bikes age, there are likely still many usable frames out there in the wild. A critical element of putting one back together is to source the correct size of seatpost. As this type of info can be difficult to find elsewhere, I'm posting it here. For the record, the frame requires a 27.0 mm seatpost.

If you're here for the purpose of rebuilding an old Diamond Back road bike, you may be interested in learning more about my pepto-pink '91 Master TG, which I discovered nearly unused a few years ago. Good luck with your project!

Seat cluster from the back...

...the left side...

...and the right.

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!