Campagnolo Launches 12-Speed Road Groups

I got the official announcement in my Instagram feed:

Asks @glory_cycles "What do you think about it?"

- Planned obsolescence is an understood concept, yet people continue to pay for this stuff.

- Humans are basically programmed to be kinda dumb, and there is a lot of money to be made by exploiting that.

- Campagnolo ran out of ideas, and the results of that are hilarious.

- People who buy this deserve less money.

- As an investor in the stock market, I profit from an expanding economy, and part of that strategy requires me to shrug and go along with this stuff.

- Everybody is entitled to love bicycles in their own way, so screw it, I'll just click the heart.

2017 Jamis Coda Sport vs. Rivendell Sam Hillborne

In this series I will be comparing three bicycles which are designed and built for functional do-everything riding. If you have known me for any amount of time, you will know my Diamondback Outlook, "the Hoopty." If not, here it goes: I rode it across the country, I love it, it is awesome, blah blah etc. I will be comparing the Outlook to two currently-made options which are made for a similar purpose. The Jamis Coda Sport retails for $529, and the Rivendell Sam Hillborne goes for $1400 as a frame. I will try to be fair in my testing. The findings will not be scientific (no wind tunnels). The point is to compare bicycles which are similar in function, but have a vastly dissimilar price. How much does it matter? "Some" or "a lot" or "not really at all."

The Jamis Coda is designed, marketed, and sold as a good option for a beginner. But an examination of the spec sheet suggests that it is capable of being much more. To me it looks like an ideal daily commuter, and an appropriate choice for a long loaded tour. I'm not convinced that bicycles costing four times as much, and designed for comfort and utility, offer any true gains in performance or satisfaction while turning the pedals. I am willing to be wrong, but not without examination. That is what I am aiming to do.

My 2017 Jamis Coda Sport has been built and is being ridden. The first comparison will be between the box-fresh Jamis Coda and my long-loved Diamondback Outlook. I will try to remain objective during this phase, as I compare my best friend to a stranger. So far, in my subjective opinion, the Outlook is in the lead. In spite of a low-end hi-tensile steel frame, and a test weight of forty pounds, I still like it better. According to Strava, I am actually faster on the Outlook. I expect my opinion to shift as I get more familiar with the Jamis, once I dial it in with a sportier and more familiar position. The Jamis feels like it has the capacity and desire for swift fun, but not straight out of the box while it's built like a standard hybrid. I'll report back after some changes are made.

2017 double-butted chromoly frame versus sporting goods clunker from 1997? The Jamis better feel good once set up correctly, or else many of my beliefs about life will be shattered. (Sorry, my Outlook, but you know what you are. You will always have a place in my heart and my stable.)

For the second phase of testing, I will compare the Jamis Coda Sport to a Rivendell Sam Hillborne. The nature of this test will hinge upon the willingness of Rivendell to send me a Sam Hillborne for side-by-side testing. In the absence of an actual Rivendell, I will do an in-depth comparison of the spec sheets. This type of comparison isn't likely to bode well for the Rivendell, since the Coda Sport is also a butted chromoly frame, and the geometry doesn't look like a whole heap of difference. (Bottom bracket drop notwithstanding.)

It would be forgivable to think that comparing a Jamis to a Rivendell doesn't make sense. Let me explain why it does. By their nature, bicycles are simple machines, which have been refined for over a century. Both of these bicycles use double butted chromoly tubes. Both are designed for strength and comfort over the same exact types of terrain. What then, if any, are the actual results when it comes to turning the pedals?

When I consider any purchase, especially one for more than $20, I try to remove emotion from the equation. I try to be honest with myself about whether a new item or upgrade is likely to provide quantitative or qualitative benefits. Studies have shown, and my experience has borne out, that the things that we want don't make us any happier in the long term after we have them.

What I seek to find out is whether buying a Rivendell is like buying a beautiful print from an artist who you love - or is there a component of function beyond the lugs and paint? Many people place a high value on style, which is perfectly okay, but I don't. Also: supporting a company like Rivendell - an ethical business, promoting a pure love of cycling, and a steadfast champion of sensible design - is a good which I would never argue against.

With that said, is a Rivendell just a small-batch Jamis Coda with lugs? Feel free to discuss this, or shoot me for asking.

Jamis Coda Sport: Nice Frame Disguised in Cheap Parts?

I bought a 2017 Jamis Coda Sport to see if it would be fun to ride a new bicycle. Most bicycles that I own or admire are at least a couple decades old. I wanted to see if simple and reliable "classic style" bicycles are still being made at a price that ordinary people are willing to pay. For as long as I have been a bicycle mechanic, I have kept an eye on Jamis's Coda series. They appear to be well-designed bicycles for everyday riding and touring on a budget. I bought one to see for myself.

There are two ways to look at the Jamis: As a good choice for entry-level cycling, or as a nice frame disguised in cheap parts. 

Jamis Coda as a  Bicycle

For the customer who wants a high quality, low maintenance bicycle, it is my opinion that the Jamis Coda series is hard to beat. I think the Coda Sport hits the sweet spot between quality and price. You get an upright riding position out of the box, which most people purchasing a hybrid bicycle will appreciate. All of the components are simple and easy to tune, so long intervals of worry-free riding can be expected.

Jamis Coda as a Frame

When I look at the Coda Sport, I see a well designed double butted chromoly frame. I see standard diameter tubing, which will absorb road vibration. I see room for wide tires, lots of bosses for racks and fenders, and a frame that will take cantilever brakes. In short, I see a frame that has all of the functional elements of other frames costing four times more than the Coda retails for as a complete bicycle. So I bought one to evaluate. I hope that my theory is true. 

First Impressions

Before changing all the components, I want to get an opinion of the Jamis built up as most customers will experience it. I've ridden about thirty miles on the Coda Sport so far. I built it up from the box exactly like an average stock floor model. I am 6 feet tall, and I chose a 21" frame. With the tall stack of headset spacers, and the threadless stem in the upward position, the handlebars are as high as I can imagine anybody wanting. For somebody new to cycling, or somebody who will not ride up hills or go long distances, this will feel stable and comfortable. I enjoyed it myself while the road was flat, but my usual rides include hills. I am used to standing and pulling up on the handlebars to force power down to the pedals. With high handlebars, I had to sit down and choose a much lower gear. I was worn out after my 20 mile loop. My average speed was slower, even though the Coda Sport is fifteen pounds lighter than my usual bicycle.

In addition to fit, let me talk about the components. Everything that comes on the Coda Sport is solidly adequate equipment. I like the shifters and the derailleurs. I don't like the cranks, but they don't particularly offend me. They feel wide and look clunky. They operate fine, and most people won't be bothered, and frankly I don't think there are any better options possible in this price range. The handlebars have a slight curve, which is a fine choice, but they are not my personal preference. The rims and hubs are good average quality and should last a long time. Unlike the base model Coda, the Sport uses a cassette hub, which is a meaningful upgrade over the freewheel hub on the lower model. The Sport model also features a threadless stem versus the quill stem on the base model. Both stems work fine, one is not better than the other - but the threadless stem is the modern standard, and finding replacement stems for the purpose of sizing will be easier at most bicycle shops. 

I am happy that I took the time to get to know this bicycle in its original configuration. But I am not looking for a stock hybrid. I am looking for a frame that is secretly capable of more than it is marketed as. My theory is that with some changes to the components and riding position, I will have a fast touring bicycle which is fun to ride long distances in a spirited manner. I want an inexpensive frame that doesn't look flashy, but has every functional aspect of bicycles which are. Finding that balance is the part of this test that I'm looking forward to the most.

Nutrition for Cyclists (and Winners at Life)

This article is a fresh take on the subject of nutrition for the high-performance cyclist. This is a topic which (I assume) has been covered many times before on other [more reputable] cycling blogs. Everybody is asking [premise]: what can you consume to maximize and optimize your power output for a century ride or a long day of touring on your Brooks Flyer or B17? When you strip away the science and marketing, you are left with what I can share. I may not be the most reliable resource, but then again, maybe I am. I have ridden a bicycle far and survived, and that qualifies me better than some. Now that I have your confidence, let me boldly continue. 

In this article, I will be breaking down everything I know about nutrition sources, relating specifically to what they have done for me. Feel free to comment with your own go-to cycling foods. I will write the top picks on a scrap of paper, and flush it down the toilet. This is about me.

Three Suggestions To Enable Your Ride

Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwiches: The Low-Budget Heavyweight Contender

These are likely the perfect bicycle fuel. There are only three ingredients, which last practically forever in all conditions, and you can assemble them with a spoon. I once rode across the USA. (Ask me about it, I won't shut up.) Before I even reached the Mississippi, I'd blown half of my budget on bars, and the inevitable greasy breakfasts at diners which followed, because I'd been up late at a bar. My recommendation for solo cyclotourists is to skip the bar and drink in the woods. Or skip alcohol altogether (which is my current journey) and constrain yourself to the fact that you will sometimes feel alone in the world, and the bar almost never does you any favors. Counter examples tend to be outliers, and on the balance, I think I'd be a better person if I'd skipped the bar almost every time. By the absolute worst case measurements, I'd be roughly exactly the same.

Somewhat as a matter of necessity, I got intimately familiar with PB&J. I woke up halfway inside my tent, and made the mistake of examining my expenses. The need for a course correction was clear. If I was to dip my wheel in the Pacific Ocean, and still have enough money to fly home, I would need to limit my spending. After some consideration, I decided to challenge myself to spending only $5 per day. I made rules: I could use the food I was already carrying. Indeed, I could still drink booze, but only if it fit in the budget (which it obviously would not.) Thirdly, the budget was cumulative, so if I spent zero dollars one day, then the next I could spend $10. I could save, but I could not borrow from the future.

I went to a grocery store and got cheap bread and jelly. There were not many options that would allow me to succeed with the challenge. I had a jar of peanut butter to get me started on the right foot. I remember running out of peanut butter (which happened a lot) and finding that a $3 jar would put me close to breaking the budget. Later that day, I passed a discount grocery store, and they were blowing out Jif for a dollar. I was proud of myself for waiting - I celebrated with a fifty-cent ice cream.

I adopted a new routine. Each morning, I would wake up on whatever earth I'd found to camp on for free, and I would ride until I found a picnic table or flat surface on which I could sit and lay bread. I would spread out bread on a plastic shopping bag, maybe 8-10 slices, and I would make sandwiches in bulk assembly-line fashion. I stacked the sandwiches in a bread bag, except for one, which I would eat with my instant morning coffee. I never got tired of eating PBJs. They were a perfect gauge of hunger as well as source of power: When I didn't feel like eating one, I probably didn't need it, but when they called my name, I absolutely did. I loved looking forward to a PBJ at the top of long climbs. The variety of jams and different types of bread were enough to keep things interesting - and make me feel like a king.

I arrived at PBJs from the angle of budget restriction, but I have returned to them in times of financial stability. These sandwiches are a nearly perfect source of safe and predictable energy.


Quinoa and Lentils: a Taco-Like Food

I eat quinoa with lentils multiple times per week while traveling. They are easy, and impossible to mess up. As a meal, they have all of the characteristics of an excellent travel food: simple and predictable to digest, and portions are infinitely adjustable. I stumbled upon this food-source, because I was desperate to exit the unending cycle of getting hungry enough to not care how much I spent on the closest prepared food I could find.

When I am not particularly active, this is how I prepare it, and I double the recipe when I want more. (For additional ultralight hobo cred, my measuring device is an empty vienna sausage tin. An official half-cup measuring device also works fine).

1/2 cup of quinoa and red lentils. Roughly half and half, maybe slightly more quinoa. Red lentils cook faster, and by using this method they become mush. 

1 cup of water. (Or two parts water for every one part quinoa & lentils.) 

Boil and/or simmer it on a camp stove. No need to think - it's done when the water is absorbed.

I let it sit for 5-10 minutes, then I smear it on tortillas, and eat. If I think I need more calories, I stir in olive oil. I season the individual servings with salt and hot sauce in order to maintain maximum flavor control. Leftovers can be left in an unsealed cooking pot, and be safely reheated with a shot of olive oil and eaten up to 48 hours later. Don't sue me if you die, but I've done that dozens of times. This food, obviously, is a versatile platform to which other ingredients can be added - steamed vegetables, melted cheese, or eggs to name a few.


Oats: You Don't Need to Cook Them

I choose quick rolled oats because they are easier to work with, and I cannot convince myself that there is a meaningful difference between various varieties of oats. I ingest oats by stirring them into a cup of yogurt. I stir in as many oats as I can fit, and add more oats as I eat. I add oats right up to the point where the resulting paste approaches noticeably dry. If the yogurt is plain, honey makes it better, but I tend to stick with delicious flavors. Milk also works for soaking up oats. I no longer cook oats, because I'm never impressed with the results. This method works better for me.

The downside to yogurt is that it needs to be refrigerated. I eat my oats and yogurt on a bench out in front of a grocery store - preferably with instant coffee while charging my phone.

Additional Notes To Consider

Instant Coffee: Stop Your Froufrou Buffoonery

People get overly emotional about coffee. If you can learn to enjoy instant coffee while traveling, you will have a much simpler life. The best solution, of course, is to give up coffee altogether - but switching to instant is great in the meantime. When I drink brewed coffee, I tend to add cream and sugar, but when the coffee is instant, I prefer it simple and black. The point (for me) is to simplify while maintaining a ritual, and I like the ritual of boiling water as I wake up.

I usually use Nescafe, because it is widely available. Trader Joe's brand is my favorite, while living in a van, but the size of the jar is not cyclotourist-friendly. Any Latin American brand tends to be good, so yellow packaging signals a win. I'll be the first to admit that not all instant coffee is equal: I've had some that was frankly undrinkable, while others I truly enjoy. I developed a sensory association between instant coffee and travel, so if it's an acquired taste, I have it. It reminds me of feeling free.


Goo Packets: A Fascinating Trend

Levi Leipheimer's brother once gave me a huckleberry-flavored Goo packet as a gesture of goodwill. I'd never tried one before. I waited until I was good and bonked-out to try it, and I can't report that it helped very much. PBJ continued as my go-to solution.


Spaghetti: A Convenient Alternative to Eating a Horse

Pasta might be the ultimate solution when you are hungry as hell, and you are in the mood for endless portions of food. Pasta is a perfect platform for adding copious amounts of olive oil and salt. Olive oil has lots of clean-burning calories, and when you've been sweating all day, your body will be craving the salt.

⮤...That sums up almost everything I know about food, except for vegetables and fruit. I have a simple rule when it comes to fruit and vegetables, and it goes "try to eat more when you can." I hope you've enjoyed this article, and perhaps even gained an actionable hint. While there was a lack of supporting science, and there were no quotes from coaches, I believe the information is close enough to the mark. After all, this is merely some dude's bicycle blog, but he is a happy 35-year-old: he has made it this far. There is likely far worse information circulating, and that's where I feel comfortable setting the bar.

If you found this article useful, then give it a thumbs up (?) You can print this page by clicking the printer icon (?) and wear the page around your wrist like a bracelet.

Monday Headlines for April 2, 2018

I'm Writing a Bicycle Blog Now

The past handful of bicycle related posts are the beginning of a new trend. I am in the process of moving to 3SPD.com - I've owned the domain for a couple years. I'm still sorting out what that will look like, but more blogging will continue there. I might continue the 721pm blog sporadically, but let's face it, I haven't been able to remain consistent here for years. I want to write, and sharing my passion for bicycles seems like an obvious place to begin.

Three Speed Tour 2018: May 12 - 13th

I am a registered participant in the 2018 edition of the Lake Pepin 3 Speed Tour. If you haven't heard of this, more information is at 3speedtour.com. The gist is that people gather in Minnesota to ride old English 3 speeds around a lake, and brew tea, and eat pastries. (There seems to be an emphasis on pastries, and that puts me at ease.)

I've already paid the $65 registration fee, so now I am compelled to finally overhaul my 1940's Rudge Sports. My best 3 speed bicycle is still in "barn find" mode, exactly how I purchased it several years ago at a swap meet. It will clean up beautifully, and I have exactly the right tools and experience to do it, so That Will Happen Soon!

The event is May 12-13th. I am driving Hotel Sienna out there to save on lodging, and maximize every aspect of personal comfort. Consider joining me! If you have an old 3 speed, and you can get to Minnesota, then you should strongly consider meeting me out there.

Great Allegheny Passage / C&O Canal Mini-Tour 2018: May 28th - June 3rd

I am assembling a group for a week-long passage of the GAP/C&O trail from May 28 - June 3. We will ride from Pittsburgh to Washington D.C. Everybody is welcome to join. A group of probably 5-10 people will be traveling by rented or borrowed vehicle from Philadelphia, to the start in Pittsburgh where the three rivers converge downtown. Each day will cover roughly 50 miles, with the first and last days being shorter. From D.C. there will be transportation back to Philly.

There will not be any support for the ride, other than transportation to starting point, and back to Philadelphia from D.C. Each rider will need a bicycle that can carry camping gear, and there will be no formal meal planning. There are plenty of food options along the trail. The pace will be up to the individual, and we will meet at a defined location at the end of each day to cook and camp and hang out. There are no cars the entire way, and the route is predominantly flat. This is bicycle touring heaven.

UPCOMING: Jamis Coda Sport Review:

I've always been a fan of simple bicycles which are capable of far more than conventional wisdom would seem to suggest. The Jamis Coda is a steel hybrid bicycle that was introduced in 1991, and is still available as a steel hybrid bicycle being produced today. I will be road testing the 2017 Coda Sport in an effort to prove my thesis that a steel hybrid bicycle is a good choice for riding on roads, and is equally capable on a multi-day tour. So yes, there would seem to be a tendency toward confirmation bias in this test. I'll be reviewing a bicycle that I very much want to like.

The utility and comfort of a chromoly steel hybrid bicycle is something that would seem to hardly need proving. Yet, in a landscape where the marginal gains of ever-lighter, more complicated, and expensive tech is pushed by the industry every single year, there might be value in reassessing the basic fundamentals that make a bicycle fun to ride. I am not setting out to make a case against road bicycles or modern mountain bicycles. (I think they are also cool.) My aim is to review a product that appears to have everything most people could want in a well-loved long-lasting bicycle, while more expensive and complicated options might offer less satisfaction along with increased cost.

I will try to make a fair assessment, but realistically this might devolve into prematurely swapping out parts, becoming distracted, and continuing to ride my Hoopty as always. I can't wait to find out!

Jerry and the Shopping Cart Folks

There was some lady and some dude pushing a shopping cart down the C&O Canal towpath. The path is all dirt and rocks. They looked to be about mid-50s and miserable. Their mission was not what they'd predicted. They had camping gear, or what I assume was supposed to be camping gear, and they were full of complaints. I was resting on top of a picnic table, and I could hear the rattle of the cart approaching from a mile away. I was disappointed that I couldn't overhear more of their conversation. I wasn't able to piece much together from the gripes.

When you travel by bicycle, you are invited to experience a reality which is altered. I would argue that it is a better reality, and one far more truthful and interesting than the one that most of us are raised to accept. From what I was able to gather, the couple with the shopping cart had cooked up a mission, gone on TV to harp about something they wanted to prove, and had only that day realized how much it sucks to push a shopping cart on a dirt and gravel path. As it turned out, we ended up camping at the same place, but I didn't ask any questions. The tension between them was obvious, and I concluded that they might want a break from talking about the shopping cart. I was riding with my good friend Jonas for the week, and as luck would have it, we encountered somebody else who was more than willing to talk.

I arrived at the camping spot slightly before Jonas. The day had been a scorcher, and as the sun faded lower in the sky, I picked my way along some small paths to swim and rinse off in the Potomac. As I returned to camp feeling refreshed, I could hear the smug assertions of a stranger, and I knew that Jonas would not mind having some help talking to this guy. We forgot his name, but we refer to him as Jerry. As you make his acquaintance, many questions are raised, but they all ultimately lead to exhaustion and shrugs.

One moment Jerry would seem to be passably rational, and the next moment he would share a blatant fabrication, which for the sake of social expedience, we were forced to pretend to believe. Jerry was also a conspiracy theorist. None of this should have been a surprise when considering his method of travel. I've met this same personality type many times before, but usually there is far more drinking involved, and hallucinogens would not be out of the question. We all share a planet, but not a reality. I am comfortable with this, because I recognize my own perception of reality as somewhat off center. But I have always maintained what could be thought of as a hotline which puts me in touch with various versions of commonly accepted realities, and allows me to communicate comfortably with most sorts of folks. Probably. This has made me feel like a phony without a true and authentic self, but as I've gotten older I've found increasing peace with the universe. I have been lucky to find other humans with an essence that I can connect with. Finding deeper connection is fleeting and rare. I have a lot more to say about this, but that isn't the story I'm telling right now.

Jerry had a huge canvas pack, and he was headed west. He was walking the whole way, and sleeping wherever he ended up as the sun was setting. He had a high opinion of himself. He handed out wisdom and advice from a throne woven of delusions. He was keeping a low profile, because he believed that the government was turning Walmarts into concentration camps for the homeless, and he seemed to believe there was a lot of killing going on. This didn't seem to dampen his spirits, or turn him overly paranoid. Jerry just kept on walking. I saw the bottom of his foot, and it looked like it had been filleted with a knife.

Jerry once had a million dollars, and he gave it all away. That claim was really the frosting on the cake. He said that, and he had about forty pounds of lighters and knives. Jonas offered him some hard gourmet cheese, and he accepted it with learned and appropriate social grace. I didn't dislike Jerry, but after an hour, enough was enough. He is a perfect example of a type of person who I find fascinating, because I can't piece together the variables that make him tick. As dim became dusk, Jerry retired with his pack to sleep closer to the shopping cart couple. Jonas and I set up tents on higher ground. We both had all of the skin on our feet, and our wheels were attached to bicycles, and because of that, we were kings.

Volunteering at the Bicycle Co-Op in Austin

Bicycle co-ops are places full of parts bins. There are enough parts to keep the Right Bicycle going for life. If you are running 8 speed cassettes, friction shifters, and long-wear tires, this is your place. If you have a steel frame, platform pedals, and flat handlebars, you are especially in luck. Bins and milk crates overflow with every conceivable part that you will need to keep the Right Bicycle running. Sometimes the co-ops are reasonably well organized. There will be a drawer for cup-and-cone bottom bracket spindles. Checked and trued wheels will be hanging above your head. It is beautiful when it isn't totally overwhelming. During open shop times the straightforward can give way to surreal.

I like to help people fix bicycles. I enjoy it enough to do it for free sometimes. I have volunteered at a few different co-ops, but it doesn't happen often. I am considering increasing the amount that I'm willing to help. I was in Austin without any pressing matters on my schedule, so I decided to show up at the Yellow Bike Project to see if I could assist. I showed up for two shifts that week, and it was better than anything else I was doing.

I told them I was a mechanic, but since nobody personally knew me, and insane people barge into bicycle co-ops as a matter of course, I was asked to sort tires. I know this is considered by some to be an unskilled task of drudgery, but I could also see vast opportunity for improvements. There was a huge pile to be sorted, and the storage area was already overflowing with every common size. I got to work. There wasn't enough space for everything, so the first objective was to figure out what was unquestionably trash. I put those in a pile for recycling. I started conservatively, so as not to offend anybody, but soon enough it became clear that they would trust my judgement. Cool. A lot of those tires had no business on any bicycle ever again. Simple fact. The tire racks had more tires that did not pass the "should ever be used" test, so the worst offenders were tossed. Tires don't stay in nice rows like books on a shelf. When people take one down, then try to put it back, knobs and friction push the other tires all over the place. After a few hundred rounds of this, there are tires pushed and folded everywhere. I fixed it. For each section, I wrapped my arms through all of the tires, placed them all on the ground, and then replaced them in neat rows to get messed up again. Some of the tires still had tubes in them. Nope - used tubes go over there. In about 40 minutes, I had those tires looking good. Not excellent - but it was an improvement to be proud of. Then I was promoted (by wandering away from the tires) to helping a guy who was there to fix a bicycle.

Some guy in a Yeti hat (coolers, not bikes) was trying to get an old Fuji to roll. This is what happens every day at a bicycle co-op. Ostensibly this is the whole point, but all projects are not created equal, and in spite of conventional logic, some bicycles should be taken to a shop. What looks like a reasonable frame, and appears to be an easy project, often has its tentacles far deeper in a pit of madness than even seems possible at first glance. Parts have already been disassembled, for unclear purposes, and the smallest seemingly insignificant parts have been misplaced, and thus must be replaced from drawers and buckets of similar, but not exactly identical parts, hoarded in the bins and drawers of the co-op. Let's get to work. He needed cones, spacers, and bearings for a rear freewheel hub. I couldn't give it a spin, but it appeared that the wheel was otherwise in good shape. I dunno man... at a bicycle shop, it would be new wheel time. At a co-op, the trend is to mend and make do. In theory, I wholeheartedly support this. But after about 15 minutes, I was ready to roll that wheel under a train.

Stupid Fuji. I didn't like it much anymore. If it was mine, no problem. But in this scenario, I wouldn't have minded watching it go right under a train. Rather than digging in a five gallon bucket of variously-threaded cones and guesswork, using a donor hub would be the expedient move - find the same hub in a huge bin of hubs, and transfer the axle, cones, bearings, and spacers to the hub built into the wheel of the Fuji. It was a Sunshine freewheel hub. There should be a million of them. The bins of hubs contained every conceivable minor hub variation, none of them the exact same thing.

About helping: I should note that it is generally the policy of a co-op to take a "hands off" approach to helping with tools. It is up to the customer(?) to handle all of the tools, and perform all of the repairs using only verbal instruction and miming from the facilitator (me.) However, in practice, that is a difficult rule to adhere to. Sometimes there are fine adjustments to be made. This rule does not factor in people with absolutely no concept of finesse, be it mechanically or as a matter of personality. I was ready to move this project along. Marginal improvements were made over the course of an hour. We fooled around endlessly on a bicycle that still left without a front brake. It was important to get the bicycle to roll, and I suppose stopping it could be figured out on the road. I assume that the bicycle will forever remain in the form of a comprehensive punch list of glaring safety concerns, rendered in steel and tape. I made him promise to address the brake issue, and then I washed my hands with Gojo. I used the remaining time to make chit-chat with a girl in a coonskin cap.

I returned to Open Shop Hours two days later, and had a far more rewarding experience. In order to maximize my usefulness, I decided to get a bicycle ready to sell, so Yellow Bike could make some money. The co-op doesn't exactly strike me as a cash cow, which of course is not the point, but I reasoned that selling a bicycle never hurts, and everybody can use some money for something. I put one of the partially completed project bicycles in a stand, and got to work on tuning it up in a swift and efficient manner. After about ten minutes I got sidetracked by an eleven-year-old with a hub issue at a nearby stand. I spent the following two and a half hours showing him how to fix bicycles. That turned out to be way more fun. If volunteering at a co-op was like that every time, I'd spend a lot more time helping out.

This kid was smart: he didn't have experience fixing bicycles, but he understood all new concepts instantly. He had natural tool intelligence, and was able to visualize basic hands-on physics better than lots of adults I've met. He was curious. Every step of the way, he was eager to learn. He was there with his mom so he could learn how to repair something mechanical. He would be excited to see how anything goes together. Bicycles just happen to be easy to get your hands on. He builds model airplanes at home. So mom took him to Open Shop and they each picked a bicycle to work on. This kid's bicycle was a perfect platform for learning. Every single thing on it needed a little bit of adjustment and help.

I showed him how to fix many things, and some of the repairs might be of practical use for his own bike. We started with overhauling a cassette hub, which is a weird place to begin, since I was later surprised to learn that he had not yet repaired a flat tire. (We did that too.) Truing a wheel is considered a little bit advanced, but I explained everything I knew, and he was able to true the front wheel with the only guidance being my confirmation that he was doing everything exactly correct. We stuck to the "hands off" tool rule, and he did everything himself. A few times, I had to step in to demonstrate the best way to get leverage, but then I undid that step so he could do all the work himself. He nailed the bearing adjustment on the cassette hub, and trued wheels in a stand and on the bicycle itself. I was impressed, and I let him know it. It was cool that I didn't have to dumb anything down. I could speak to him like a peer.

When it was time to clean up the shop, his mom thanked me for spending so much time with her kid, and said she hoped it didn't stop me from what I was working on. Ha! I told her I was having fun, and it was exactly what I was there for. Then I said goodbye to my friend, who I assume will master life by the age of fifteen.