After the disruption caused by the lightning strike early in the month, and a busy work schedule, then the internet connection went down again last night. As I poked around the cable modem and wireless router, I discovered that one of the antennas of the Linksys WRT54G was not standing up as straight as the other one and it had teeth marks near the tip of it.
At least two of our cats like to chew on pens and pencils. The antennas on the router must be even more fun to chew, because they have a softer outer coating.
I really don't know if the cat bites had anything to do with the interruption of service. I suspect the lightning did cause a little slow-acting brain damage, because the router showed normal indicator lights even when it would not allow traffic to pass through, and a night's unplugged rest seems to have cured it at least temporarily. The cat bites are funnier, though.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
Don't Grin, Don't Laugh, and Don't Breathe with your Mouth Open
How many tons of insect life are hovering over Effingham at this moment?
I rode home from the Conservation Commission meeting in the dusk. Unexpectedly heavy showers earlier in the evening had prompted me to take the fixed gear, but they had passed. The last pink drained slowly off the bases of the drifting clouds as I flowed smoothly through the dusk. The fixed gear's continuous drive creates an endless connected series of overlapping circles through the air.
I stopped briefly to chat with my friend Lee. He's biked every road, hiked every trail and bushwhacked every glade in all four seasons around here. Lately he's been doing some trail work up in Conway. He keeps trying to get me to ride my mountain bike again. He's also an incredible boat handler, having been a boat jockey for Outward Bound at one point in his youth. He's pretty much your all-purpose outdoor traveler. The kind who never brags and whose advice is always short, quiet and dead on. He was chuckling because his daughter, home for a visit from Manhattan, can handle all-night city noise, but can't sleep through 4:30 a.m. birdsong.
It's all what you're used to. Actually, I sleep like a log anywhere, but I definitely prefer the birdsong and the unbelievable silence this place can produce at nght.
Once I left Effingham Falls and headed up the steady grade into the woods to skirt the shoulder of the Green Mountain massif I started to feel the impact of something like dry raindrops. Little motes of winged protein smacked into me as thickly as the earlier shower had peppered me with droplets. I wanted to laugh, but I knew I shouldn't open my mouth. I was glad I wear glasses.
All the wet weather has helped produce a crop of mosquitoes like something out of a horror movie. The shrieking swarm condenses around you the minute you venture into a vegetated area. They wait on tall grass and billow up in clouds. They hover in the forest and the undergrowth. Add to this all the other flitting and flying things that have to do their thing in the short warm season, and all the others that feed on them. Shake and pour out into the summer evening. Bip, bap pip pap pippity pap pepper the face of the night rider. How can you tell a happy cyclist? By the bugs in his teeth. Don't laugh. Don't grin. Don't breathe with your mouth open.
I rode home from the Conservation Commission meeting in the dusk. Unexpectedly heavy showers earlier in the evening had prompted me to take the fixed gear, but they had passed. The last pink drained slowly off the bases of the drifting clouds as I flowed smoothly through the dusk. The fixed gear's continuous drive creates an endless connected series of overlapping circles through the air.
I stopped briefly to chat with my friend Lee. He's biked every road, hiked every trail and bushwhacked every glade in all four seasons around here. Lately he's been doing some trail work up in Conway. He keeps trying to get me to ride my mountain bike again. He's also an incredible boat handler, having been a boat jockey for Outward Bound at one point in his youth. He's pretty much your all-purpose outdoor traveler. The kind who never brags and whose advice is always short, quiet and dead on. He was chuckling because his daughter, home for a visit from Manhattan, can handle all-night city noise, but can't sleep through 4:30 a.m. birdsong.
It's all what you're used to. Actually, I sleep like a log anywhere, but I definitely prefer the birdsong and the unbelievable silence this place can produce at nght.
Once I left Effingham Falls and headed up the steady grade into the woods to skirt the shoulder of the Green Mountain massif I started to feel the impact of something like dry raindrops. Little motes of winged protein smacked into me as thickly as the earlier shower had peppered me with droplets. I wanted to laugh, but I knew I shouldn't open my mouth. I was glad I wear glasses.
All the wet weather has helped produce a crop of mosquitoes like something out of a horror movie. The shrieking swarm condenses around you the minute you venture into a vegetated area. They wait on tall grass and billow up in clouds. They hover in the forest and the undergrowth. Add to this all the other flitting and flying things that have to do their thing in the short warm season, and all the others that feed on them. Shake and pour out into the summer evening. Bip, bap pip pap pippity pap pepper the face of the night rider. How can you tell a happy cyclist? By the bugs in his teeth. Don't laugh. Don't grin. Don't breathe with your mouth open.
Assembling a Bike
Assembling a new bike out of the box involves more than just slapping on the parts that aren't already in place.
To do it right, you have to take it apart some more before you put it all the way together.
At this point, shop owners all over the world are giving thanks that I don't work for them. Or maybe not. It depends on their long-term view.
A fast mechanic can slap a bike together for the floor in less than an hour, maybe much less. It will probably work for a test ride and make it to the free tuneup a week or a month later.
If you figure the free tuneup only needs to be worth as much as the customer is paying for it, you can breeze through that in short order as well. Make sure the crank arms aren't going to fall off, the brakes don't squeak and the gears shift smoothly.
The mountain bike boom made me take a more critical look at assembly and tuneup procedures. In our area, people were really beating up their bikes. Anything less than battle-ready equipment would come back in embarrassing pieces. It was like a laboratory experiment in rapid aging of a bike.
A thorough assembly will help make the free tuneup a breeze, because properly assembled bikes won't come apart as fast as quickly assembled bikes. A carefully assembled bike is less likely to embarrass the shop. This is just self defense, people.
Most of our customers are regulars. Over time we collect a lot of history on their bikes. If we do good work from the outset, our job tends to get easier and the customers trust our opinion more, because their bike works better after it has been in our hands. Sure, we make mistakes, being mere humans. But overall a meticulous workshop costs less than a shoddy one.
When I assemble a bike I start by pulling the rear wheel off, removing the cassette or freewheel and adjusting the rear axle cones. Most factory-assembled bikes come with over-tightened hubs. Often the locknuts aren't properly locked, so this tight hub could very well turn rapidly into a loose one after hard riding. Then the bearings will get pounded into the cones, fracturing them. Or the hub might stay tight, grinding the bearings uniformly into the cones, digging a trench.
Grease and reinstall the cassette lockring. With a freewheel, grease the freewheel threads on the hub before reinstalling the freewheel itself.
Repeat the adjustment process with the front hub.
On both wheels, grip and squeeze sets of spokes to produce a crackling noise as the spokes de-stress. We nicknamed this procedure "cringling" because of the noise it makes. Do this until the spokes are quiet. Then true the wheels.
Inflate the tires before adjusting the brakes. Rims will flare very slightly when tires are holding full pressure. It's not too critical. I often forget to inflate the tires and seldom have to readjust brakes on a new wheel. Older rims, sidewalls eroded by brake pad wear, may bulge considerably, but new rims usually don't react too much. It's just a nice touch.
Set cantilever or linear-pull brake pads near the outer edge of the rim. As the pads wear, they will strike the rim lower and lower. If they're too low to start, they'll drop below the inner edge and develop a lip.
Road-type caliper brakes actually pinch inward and upward. The narrower the rim, the more noticeable the upward movement will be. You don't have to set the pads radically low, but avoid setting them too high.
Grease the threads on the top cap bolt of a threadless headset. I've seen these rust into the star nut threads. I've also seen alloy headset spacers corrode onto steel steerer tubes on mountain bikes that have been taken on many jungle cruises. If you are taking your bike apart frequently, this corrosion has little chance to develop. If you happen to leave an assembly together undisturbed for too long, you may get a rude surprise.
Remove water bottle bolts and other accessory bolts and grease the threads on them. Retighten them securely.
Grease crank bolts. You'd be surprised how often they come through dry. They will not tighten smootly or torque properly without lube.
A touch of grease makes a big difference over the lifetime of the bike. I will grease threaded adjusters on brake levers and derailleurs, cable anchor bolts, brake shoe posts, pretty much anything with threads, if I have the time. Many of these have a token amount of grease from the factory, but it's often that brown, semi-dry earwax, if anything.
If you decide you are going to be this thorough, you can develop your own streamlined procedures to knock off each step, rather than waste time trying to talk yourself out of it.
On high-end bikes, especially special orders, I will grease chainring bolts. Those are always dry.
All this extra care is in addition to the normal assembly activities, greasing pedal threads, seatposts and quill-type handlebar stems.
Time spent on assembly is time you won't have to spend getting a bike ready for a test ride or to be handed to a happy customer so they can take it right home. Thorough assemblies mean you don't have to tie up shop time on free tuneups when you could be doing paying repairs. Thorough assemblies mean you can slap on accessories like bottle cages or racks faster. Sales go more smoothly. Profits go up while customer service improves.
We all get tired and overworked. We fall short. But high standards at least give us something to shoot for.
To do it right, you have to take it apart some more before you put it all the way together.
At this point, shop owners all over the world are giving thanks that I don't work for them. Or maybe not. It depends on their long-term view.
A fast mechanic can slap a bike together for the floor in less than an hour, maybe much less. It will probably work for a test ride and make it to the free tuneup a week or a month later.
If you figure the free tuneup only needs to be worth as much as the customer is paying for it, you can breeze through that in short order as well. Make sure the crank arms aren't going to fall off, the brakes don't squeak and the gears shift smoothly.
The mountain bike boom made me take a more critical look at assembly and tuneup procedures. In our area, people were really beating up their bikes. Anything less than battle-ready equipment would come back in embarrassing pieces. It was like a laboratory experiment in rapid aging of a bike.
A thorough assembly will help make the free tuneup a breeze, because properly assembled bikes won't come apart as fast as quickly assembled bikes. A carefully assembled bike is less likely to embarrass the shop. This is just self defense, people.
Most of our customers are regulars. Over time we collect a lot of history on their bikes. If we do good work from the outset, our job tends to get easier and the customers trust our opinion more, because their bike works better after it has been in our hands. Sure, we make mistakes, being mere humans. But overall a meticulous workshop costs less than a shoddy one.
When I assemble a bike I start by pulling the rear wheel off, removing the cassette or freewheel and adjusting the rear axle cones. Most factory-assembled bikes come with over-tightened hubs. Often the locknuts aren't properly locked, so this tight hub could very well turn rapidly into a loose one after hard riding. Then the bearings will get pounded into the cones, fracturing them. Or the hub might stay tight, grinding the bearings uniformly into the cones, digging a trench.
Grease and reinstall the cassette lockring. With a freewheel, grease the freewheel threads on the hub before reinstalling the freewheel itself.
Repeat the adjustment process with the front hub.
On both wheels, grip and squeeze sets of spokes to produce a crackling noise as the spokes de-stress. We nicknamed this procedure "cringling" because of the noise it makes. Do this until the spokes are quiet. Then true the wheels.
Inflate the tires before adjusting the brakes. Rims will flare very slightly when tires are holding full pressure. It's not too critical. I often forget to inflate the tires and seldom have to readjust brakes on a new wheel. Older rims, sidewalls eroded by brake pad wear, may bulge considerably, but new rims usually don't react too much. It's just a nice touch.
Set cantilever or linear-pull brake pads near the outer edge of the rim. As the pads wear, they will strike the rim lower and lower. If they're too low to start, they'll drop below the inner edge and develop a lip.
Road-type caliper brakes actually pinch inward and upward. The narrower the rim, the more noticeable the upward movement will be. You don't have to set the pads radically low, but avoid setting them too high.
Grease the threads on the top cap bolt of a threadless headset. I've seen these rust into the star nut threads. I've also seen alloy headset spacers corrode onto steel steerer tubes on mountain bikes that have been taken on many jungle cruises. If you are taking your bike apart frequently, this corrosion has little chance to develop. If you happen to leave an assembly together undisturbed for too long, you may get a rude surprise.
Remove water bottle bolts and other accessory bolts and grease the threads on them. Retighten them securely.
Grease crank bolts. You'd be surprised how often they come through dry. They will not tighten smootly or torque properly without lube.
A touch of grease makes a big difference over the lifetime of the bike. I will grease threaded adjusters on brake levers and derailleurs, cable anchor bolts, brake shoe posts, pretty much anything with threads, if I have the time. Many of these have a token amount of grease from the factory, but it's often that brown, semi-dry earwax, if anything.
If you decide you are going to be this thorough, you can develop your own streamlined procedures to knock off each step, rather than waste time trying to talk yourself out of it.
On high-end bikes, especially special orders, I will grease chainring bolts. Those are always dry.
All this extra care is in addition to the normal assembly activities, greasing pedal threads, seatposts and quill-type handlebar stems.
Time spent on assembly is time you won't have to spend getting a bike ready for a test ride or to be handed to a happy customer so they can take it right home. Thorough assemblies mean you don't have to tie up shop time on free tuneups when you could be doing paying repairs. Thorough assemblies mean you can slap on accessories like bottle cages or racks faster. Sales go more smoothly. Profits go up while customer service improves.
We all get tired and overworked. We fall short. But high standards at least give us something to shoot for.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Death Match: PG2000 vs. The Cheese
A large portion of the time spent tuning up a bike for a White Lightning addict goes to cleaning the cheese off of everything.
White Lightning cheese is powerful persistent stuff. Those polytetrafluoroethylene particles gather around the drive train and in gobs on the frame. They may land as far afield as the upper seat stays and forward of the front derailleur if the bike's owner just can't stay away from the stuff.
Solvents like Finish Line Ecotech and citrus degreasers do work, but using a degreaser around a drive train means you have to chase it with replacement lube. And The Cheese has proven pretty stubborn.
PG2000, the spray lube from Pro Gold, melts The Cheese faster than a blob of Velveeta in a hot frying pan. Just wipe away the excess after cleaning. The residue enhances the lube on derailleurs or chain, rather than thinning it as a degreasing solvent would. You don't have to use extravagant showers of it. Start with a little and add a little more until it cuts the cheese to your satisfaction.
Put your White Lightning addict into a 12-step program as soon as possible and get them on the Pro Link. They'll thank you for it.
White Lightning cheese is powerful persistent stuff. Those polytetrafluoroethylene particles gather around the drive train and in gobs on the frame. They may land as far afield as the upper seat stays and forward of the front derailleur if the bike's owner just can't stay away from the stuff.
Solvents like Finish Line Ecotech and citrus degreasers do work, but using a degreaser around a drive train means you have to chase it with replacement lube. And The Cheese has proven pretty stubborn.
PG2000, the spray lube from Pro Gold, melts The Cheese faster than a blob of Velveeta in a hot frying pan. Just wipe away the excess after cleaning. The residue enhances the lube on derailleurs or chain, rather than thinning it as a degreasing solvent would. You don't have to use extravagant showers of it. Start with a little and add a little more until it cuts the cheese to your satisfaction.
Put your White Lightning addict into a 12-step program as soon as possible and get them on the Pro Link. They'll thank you for it.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Rigged for Rain
The faithful fixed gear, fenders in place. Note the dry bag used as a rack pack. This weather is really getting tiresome. I can't complain, though. My house didn't get flooded, and the lightning bolt that nailed a tree right outside only destroyed a few appliances. 
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Hear No Evil, See No Evil and Damn Sure Speak No Evil
Sometimes the grunt in the backshop faces a moral dilemma when fragments of the talk on the sales floor filter back.
Yes, we need to sell some bikes. And maybe the deal in progress is fine. But it sounds like it skirts the edge. To know is to be responsible, at least to object if something isn't right. But having endured a number of excrement typhoons over the years when I piped up, survival takes precedence. As I said, it may turn out fine. And I've learned to implement corrective measures in stealthier ways when the frontal approach meets the blustering defense.
For now, I have earplugs and my meditative powers until I can delve deeper into the facts of the case.
Yes, we need to sell some bikes. And maybe the deal in progress is fine. But it sounds like it skirts the edge. To know is to be responsible, at least to object if something isn't right. But having endured a number of excrement typhoons over the years when I piped up, survival takes precedence. As I said, it may turn out fine. And I've learned to implement corrective measures in stealthier ways when the frontal approach meets the blustering defense.
For now, I have earplugs and my meditative powers until I can delve deeper into the facts of the case.
Fix It or Sell It?
As cheap as human life is in a bike shop, repair costs still mount up quickly. As beer costs rise, so does the cost of labor. And parts aren't getting any cheaper, either.
Faced with a repair estimate of a hundred or two hundred dollars, customers will say, "for a little more I could have a new bike."
Yes and no. If you paid about $300 for your bike 15 years ago, it may have componentry as well made as on some bikes selling for $500 today. And if you get your bike serviced by a shop you will definitely spend more on repairs over its lifetime than you plunked down to buy it originally. You can't think about it just in monetary terms.
The more you can fix yourself, the more money and time you will save. Buy tools and parts.
I suppose most readers here know this, but I'm used to writing for papers where I hope the less sophisticated rider will read. I want them to outgrow me. I want them to stumble on this blog as source of information and a slice of life.
Bikes aren't like cars. For all the efforts of Shimano, there aren't a lot of mysterious, complicated systems in there. If your Wonder Shifting bites the big one you can always put on Stone Age Shifting and still have a bike to ride. That's not an option with your car. So in bike repair you have many routes to the single destination of a ridable bike. It may not be exactly the way you got it on the first day, but you will be able to get around. You have to decide how much you want to cling to the original configuration, or how close you can get to it with available parts when it does break.
Faced with a repair estimate of a hundred or two hundred dollars, customers will say, "for a little more I could have a new bike."
Yes and no. If you paid about $300 for your bike 15 years ago, it may have componentry as well made as on some bikes selling for $500 today. And if you get your bike serviced by a shop you will definitely spend more on repairs over its lifetime than you plunked down to buy it originally. You can't think about it just in monetary terms.
The more you can fix yourself, the more money and time you will save. Buy tools and parts.
I suppose most readers here know this, but I'm used to writing for papers where I hope the less sophisticated rider will read. I want them to outgrow me. I want them to stumble on this blog as source of information and a slice of life.
Bikes aren't like cars. For all the efforts of Shimano, there aren't a lot of mysterious, complicated systems in there. If your Wonder Shifting bites the big one you can always put on Stone Age Shifting and still have a bike to ride. That's not an option with your car. So in bike repair you have many routes to the single destination of a ridable bike. It may not be exactly the way you got it on the first day, but you will be able to get around. You have to decide how much you want to cling to the original configuration, or how close you can get to it with available parts when it does break.
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