Fixootr

Work had me ridiculously busy and rather stressed from late November until the end of the year. While I didn't have adequate time to begin or resume any full-fledged bike builds or other major projects, I did find that I could wind down and relax a bit at the end of my hectic days with a few minutes of wheel building. I had accumulated a few low-to-medium priority wheels to build, so this was a good way to avoid falling too far behind.

Wheel #1 was a composite affair. El Prez had a 700c flip-flop wheel on a Motobecane setup as a fixed-gear and a new 20" Weinmann BMX rim laced to a faulty coaster brake hub. Both wheels had 36 spokes, so I was tasked with mating the Quando flip-flop hub from the big rim to the the 20" rim by any means necessary. The resulting Frankenwheel would be destined for his Xootr Swift folding bike.

There were a couple of issues with the Quando hub. Firstly, the bearings were kind of shot. Secondly, it was meant for a frame with 120mm rear spacing-- fine on the old Motobecane, not fine for the 135mm rear spacing of the Xootr. The Xootr has an aluminum frame, so cold-setting is out of the question. A new set of bearings made the hub much happier about spinning. A round of spare parts scrounging at Maison D'Interstatement turned up a longer axle and a spacer/locknut combo that added up to 135mm.

The hub was ready to go, with a caveat: since most of the extra spacing had to go on the left side of the hub to maintain a straight chainline, the wheel is no longer symmetrically dished and effectively can't be flipped around for use with a freewheel. Neither of these things are deal-breakers in this case. I think the inherent overbuilt strength of a 36-spoke 20" wheel should more than compensate for the weakening effect of an off-center dish. Prez was only interested in the fixed-gear function of the hub, so he wasn't bothered by the loss of freewheeling capability. The best way to see how it holds up is some vigorous real-world riding of the sort that its owner is both qualified and inclined to dish out.

The spokes are Wheelsmith 2.0 mm, with DT Swiss brass spoke head washers making for a snug fit in the hub flange. I used UBI's online spoke calculator for the lengths. As of this writing, the wheel has been in use for several weeks and El Prez is pleased with its performance. This was my first time building a 20" wheel and I liked it for it's compact, manageable "laptop" size. There are a lot of neat hubs besides fixed (internally-geared, dynamo, drum or disc brake) that are rarely built into this configuration, and I'd like to see more. There's a lot of potential for folding bikes to become more useful and fun for more people. Read more!

Pants and secret cove

As you may or may not know, there's a new pants place on Pratt Street. More specifically, there's a denim place. It's called the Hartford Denim Co.; they make and fix pants. They fixed the crotch of the pants I'm wearing right now and yesterday they fixed the crotch of Johanna's pants. They do a good job. I'm saving up to buy a pair of their tricked out pants that last for a million years. TJ has a pair and hasn't had to take them off in a month!

After work, Johanna's pants and I went on a little trip.

View secret cove in a larger map

It was poetic and dark. I took some pictures. The pants enjoyed the trip. Whilst exploring the secret cove actually got turned around and felt a little lost. That added to the poetic nature.

If you go check it out, make sure there aren't any cars parked nearby even if you're wearing orange. It's a popular hunting and target shooting spot and you end up down range from the target shooting.

On a more serious note, you've probably seen the front page news about poor Henry Dang. That sounds like a fucked up cover up to me.

Read more!

Over Hill, Over Dale

Honestly, anytime I venture into Farmington, I am surprised by its existence. That's how far from my daily consciousness the place is. A colleague once spoke of how the trails enabled her father to have an easy commute to work-- a factoid I quickly forgot as this little world had no relevance to my own. Then, after a different coworker raved about the trails -- she is over 60, had not ridden in a long time, and decided to hop on the trails one day, during which she easily, effortlessly rode about 20 miles -- I felt more inspired to see what exists on the other side of Death Avon Mountain.

She directed me to take Route 44, then Route 10, and park in a lot that would be visible fairly quickly. I found the Farmington Valley Trails Council site and stared at the intricate maps for awhile before having a duh moment. She meant going from her house on Route 44, not from Hartford. Finding the parking lot was probably the simplest navigation-related part of this adventure, and before I start hearing all kinds of judgment, Interstatement challenged me to bike to the trail from home before the end of summer. At the lot in Avon, we tried to plan our route by using the posted maps to guide us. In the future, we will print out maps to take along. Some sections of the trail were well-marked; others, not so much. I found myself yearning for the faded ECG emblems painted on the sidewalk in Hartford, if that tells you anything. The most confusing section we encountered was in an area undergoing construction. We kept looking for where the trail continued, only to learn later that we were riding a segment that uses the road. This stretch was not terribly long, but when you have no clue where the trail may or may not pick up, such things seem like an eternity. Just as I was ready for a fullblown meltdown (feeling lost, riding in direct sunlight, and having to pee), we arrived at Stratton Brook State Park. There, we found shade, the path, and a restroom with running water, hallelujah. This park has a beach, places to kill/torture fish, and a few cool bridges. Our original plan was to ride in a loop, going through Collinsville and so forth. So, we continued out of the park, expecting to find clear trails once more. This did not happen. We rode down a very rural road past about ten firetrucks, casually parked there, as if it were their natural setting. Just as I thought I could hear Dueling Banjos in the distance, we came to another small park with picnic tables and a sports field. There was a cool playground that was absolutely deserted.
I find it utterly depressed that kids would rather go to the newfangled plastic-everything-no-sharp-edges-playgrounds than to a little one (next to an equally deserted pond) where there is a metal backhoe with which to dig in the sand. It used to be that getting a bruised knee or removing a splinter was a routine event. Now, if a kid so much as has access to a metal slide, people panic. Being raised in a culture of fear makes it understandable why children are prone to obesity and videogame addiction; they simply are not allowed to have real fun.
We biked a little past the playground to see if there were any signs indicating where we were or if this was the trail. As the road turned into gravel, with no sign of ending, we said to hell with it and turned around. On the way back, we caught more of the bike trail that ran through Stratton Brook. Originally, we had missed the loop turn and had taken the trail North. It looks like it goes to or beyond the stateline, but we did not make it quite that far. This section runs along/through another park and has nice views of the Farmington River. I noted the picnic table which could come in handy on another day.

I was taken aback by how many cyclists were using this trail, as well as how many riders get their kicks apparently training for some race or another. If I want to sweat, I'll just ride downtown during Friday evening rush hour.

We obviously aborted our original plan, but shall return, at least to see if we can navigate the other half of the loop we did not quite get to attempt. Read more!

Uncommon Gear

I spent a happy portion of my late teens and early twenties meandering around the northeast quadrant of the US. My scaled-down version of the full-fledged American RV experience replaced the Class A Winnebago with a 1972 VW Campmobile and the tow-behind dinghy with a bike or two.

I recently found this Shimano Biopace-equipped hubcap, which lived on the right (drive side) front wheel of my rig. The 42-tooth chainwheel was on the right rear wheel to aid with hill-climbing. Read more!