"Showers are going to precede the front this afternoon and tonight. Then the front is going to stall over us," said the weather man this morning.
He didn't mention that it was going to stall right there, just to the west of town. Watching it on the radar I would have said the rain would be pouring sideways on gale force squalls half an hour ago. I can see it building and building without getting here.
Pretty annoying when I already called for the choppers. But there are few hospitable places on my route where I could take decent shelter if something large and electrical came through. I've lost more bets than I've won, trying to beat the weather around here.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Saturday, July 12, 2014
More mechanic-friendly design from the e-bike industry
On a day when other people's schedule conflicts have left me running the mechanical side of the shop alone on a summer Saturday, in comes a guy who has blown the front tube on his E Z Pedaler T300.
On EZ Pedaler bikes the front one is the heavy one. It's not as heavy as a Stromer heavy wheel, but it's chunky.
There is no obvious way to disconnect the power cable. You have to undo the axle nuts and lower the wheel carefully to get the brake rotor clear of the caliper. You can then work the tire off the rim from that side. Be sure to provide a solid support for the wheel so it doesn't drop and hang from that cable.
I saw a couple of places where I might undo the connection, but they looked like they could just as easily be gateways to Hell.
When I got the tire off I discovered there was no rim strip.
The tube had blown in multiple places into the rim. Duh.
What passes for lunch is over. Days when I know I don't have the slightest chance of getting everything done are less stressful than when I believe I could and convince myself I should. I went into this day with a cheerfully doomed feeling.
On EZ Pedaler bikes the front one is the heavy one. It's not as heavy as a Stromer heavy wheel, but it's chunky.
I saw a couple of places where I might undo the connection, but they looked like they could just as easily be gateways to Hell.
When I got the tire off I discovered there was no rim strip.
What passes for lunch is over. Days when I know I don't have the slightest chance of getting everything done are less stressful than when I believe I could and convince myself I should. I went into this day with a cheerfully doomed feeling.
Wednesday, July 09, 2014
Warning
Last night I received this email from my colleague Big G, briefing me on the day's events so I could be prepared for what might await me.
"T
Today was off the wall! Sucking chest wounds punctuated by needy and stupid renters all day long.
Well, today we have a new family to add to our
infamous hall of shame. First there were "The Chiselers of Weston",
then "The Chaos Family" and now, "The Mayhems from Florida". Yes, "The
Mayhems of Florida". All seven rented mountain bikes to ride The Cotton
Valley Trail.
I put Mom on the hybrid step-through, Big Sis on The Queen, next sis on The Duchess and the rest on assorted mountain
bikes from our stable. Only two out of the seven chose to wear helmets,
Mom and Big Sis.
Four hours later, while I was test riding a bike out
back, the youngest son rode into the parking lot stating the others
would soon follow. Five more pulled in.
Mom
was scraped up and bleeding from her hip to her foot. Her arm was
bleeding too. I asked her what happened and she said she was watching a
blue jay. I told her she could get cleaned up in our rest room and
that we have band-aids but she declined and said she would treat her
wounds with vodka. Then she said her daughter might be in worse shape
with a broken wrist. Just then, Big Sis appeared clutching her wrist
while Middle Sis wheeled the bikes. I told Mom where the hospital is
but she said they would have "lunch" first.
Then there was Johnny, (Or whatever his name is.)
"Where is Johnny? He was RIGHT behind us!" At that moment a car going
down Mill Street slammed on its brakes and screeched to a stop in front
of the deli. "Oh, here he comes now."
I gave the bikes a quick lookover and I think they
are okay. The way things were going I didn't have a lot of time to
really check over things the right way. If you rent the queen or the
Giant hybrid step-through tomorrow give them another quick look, just in case.
........and, watch out for mayhem, or The Mayhems. -G"
The Queen and The Duchess are nicknames for our two best step-through rental bikes.
Sounds like summer chaos has really blossomed.
Tuesday, July 08, 2014
Stromer Tar Pit
Sunday, Mr. X pulled up in the back parking lot with his brand-new Stromer ST 1 Platinum on the bike rack of his SUV. The rear brake had gone mushy on this one exactly as it had on the other black diamond-frame bike in the batch I just assembled.
I was glad I had ordered a new bleed kit to replace the improvised one from the 1990s that our shop had used on Magura rim brakes. Along with all the other sucking chest wounds in the repair shop I told Mr. X I would have the bike ready for Monday morning when his gang was going for a ride. I'd already done it on one bike with a less than optimal tool kit. It should be a snap, right?
I put the bike in the stand, removed the neoprene sleeve over the wiring on the chain stay, unhooked all the wiring connections, cut the various zip ties, broke loose the 19mm axle nuts and maneuvered the 25-pound rear wheel out of the dropouts past the derailleur. I removed the brake pads and inserted the block to hold back the pistons in the brake caliper. Next I undid the forward mounting bolt to help orient the caliper vertically once the bike was positioned with the front wheel up at the ceiling. That had to be tied to a pipe in the overhead to hold it straight so the brake lever would remain in the proper attitude.
The latter maneuvers required a stepladder, as does the bleeding process itself on these bikes.
Once the bike was positioned I could hook up the syringes of the bleed kit to the fittings on the caliper and the brake lever.
Magura's video, in addition to being dubbed in English so Bernd the technician's lips keep moving after the narration has stopped, shows the bleeding procedure on a front brake on a conventional mountain bike. It's quick! It's easy! It's fun for the whole family! Need the caliper oriented vertically? It basically is already. Piece of cake.
Even though our new bleed kit supposedly has the fittings for Magura brakes, they don't fit exactly right. Magura's own kit is a lot more money and the fittings shown in the catalog look identical to the ones on our old rim brake kit, which also does not fit the new disc brakes precisely. So there's a bit of weeping and the chance of air being introduced during the procedure to eliminate air from the system.
Between interruptions from customers I worked my way through the bleed and reassembled the bike: untie, lower, clean caliper, insert pads, reinstall 25-pound rear wheel, reconnect wiring, and, finally, test squeeze the brake lever.
Totally dead. It was now 15 minutes to closing time and I was supposed to ride an hour home in time to shove down a bit of supper before some guests came over to share a birthday cake the cellist had made for me. But I'd told Mr. X we would have this done. I had to try at least one more time.
Tired of lugging that 25-pound rear wheel around, for this round of bleeding I removed the caliper completely from the bike, cut the remaining zip ties to allow it to hang down below the bottom bracket and screwed it to a wooden framework I scrounged up that happened to be a convenient shape and size. While this did not put the caliper and lever ends in exactly easy reach it was easier than going up and down a stepladder over and over. I was able to fill and bleed the system in half an hour.
Successful bleeding of the brakes on these two brand new $4,000 Stromer electric bicycles does not answer the question, "why did they need bleeding in the first place?" I had seen a sheen of fluid around the vicinity of the caliper on both bikes, but there was no big stain in the box when I unpacked them or a massive dripping mess to indicate where the system had emptied itself catastrophically. There was just that little schmear. It looks as if the halves of the caliper do not mate quite correctly, but nothing is obviously warped or loose. I won't be surprised to see a Stromer or Magura brake recall on MT 2 disc brakes before the year is out. But why only on the two black men's bikes and not on the white and red step-through models?
I've given up on getting a lot of two-way communication from Stromer. They're obviously too busy selling these things to worry about a few that don't work, even if the bikes belong to some of the richest people in the country. It's nice to see they're not letting their heads be turned by all that dough. You can see their point, can't you? The rich folks have already spent their money. That makes them no more use than any other customer who has already purchased the product. Time to move on to new conquests.
I'm not sure when loyalty to old customers became a liability and the quest for new new new ones became the mark of success. I guess it's all part of the growth philosophy that drives corporate planning and cancer. An old customer is only as good as the money they're willing to spend on your new product. And since the products are poorly thought out and badly supported, new customers are your only hope. Go for the people who haven't heard about you yet!
I was glad I had ordered a new bleed kit to replace the improvised one from the 1990s that our shop had used on Magura rim brakes. Along with all the other sucking chest wounds in the repair shop I told Mr. X I would have the bike ready for Monday morning when his gang was going for a ride. I'd already done it on one bike with a less than optimal tool kit. It should be a snap, right?
I put the bike in the stand, removed the neoprene sleeve over the wiring on the chain stay, unhooked all the wiring connections, cut the various zip ties, broke loose the 19mm axle nuts and maneuvered the 25-pound rear wheel out of the dropouts past the derailleur. I removed the brake pads and inserted the block to hold back the pistons in the brake caliper. Next I undid the forward mounting bolt to help orient the caliper vertically once the bike was positioned with the front wheel up at the ceiling. That had to be tied to a pipe in the overhead to hold it straight so the brake lever would remain in the proper attitude.
The latter maneuvers required a stepladder, as does the bleeding process itself on these bikes.
Once the bike was positioned I could hook up the syringes of the bleed kit to the fittings on the caliper and the brake lever.
Magura's video, in addition to being dubbed in English so Bernd the technician's lips keep moving after the narration has stopped, shows the bleeding procedure on a front brake on a conventional mountain bike. It's quick! It's easy! It's fun for the whole family! Need the caliper oriented vertically? It basically is already. Piece of cake.
Even though our new bleed kit supposedly has the fittings for Magura brakes, they don't fit exactly right. Magura's own kit is a lot more money and the fittings shown in the catalog look identical to the ones on our old rim brake kit, which also does not fit the new disc brakes precisely. So there's a bit of weeping and the chance of air being introduced during the procedure to eliminate air from the system.
Between interruptions from customers I worked my way through the bleed and reassembled the bike: untie, lower, clean caliper, insert pads, reinstall 25-pound rear wheel, reconnect wiring, and, finally, test squeeze the brake lever.
Totally dead. It was now 15 minutes to closing time and I was supposed to ride an hour home in time to shove down a bit of supper before some guests came over to share a birthday cake the cellist had made for me. But I'd told Mr. X we would have this done. I had to try at least one more time.
Tired of lugging that 25-pound rear wheel around, for this round of bleeding I removed the caliper completely from the bike, cut the remaining zip ties to allow it to hang down below the bottom bracket and screwed it to a wooden framework I scrounged up that happened to be a convenient shape and size. While this did not put the caliper and lever ends in exactly easy reach it was easier than going up and down a stepladder over and over. I was able to fill and bleed the system in half an hour.
Successful bleeding of the brakes on these two brand new $4,000 Stromer electric bicycles does not answer the question, "why did they need bleeding in the first place?" I had seen a sheen of fluid around the vicinity of the caliper on both bikes, but there was no big stain in the box when I unpacked them or a massive dripping mess to indicate where the system had emptied itself catastrophically. There was just that little schmear. It looks as if the halves of the caliper do not mate quite correctly, but nothing is obviously warped or loose. I won't be surprised to see a Stromer or Magura brake recall on MT 2 disc brakes before the year is out. But why only on the two black men's bikes and not on the white and red step-through models?
I've given up on getting a lot of two-way communication from Stromer. They're obviously too busy selling these things to worry about a few that don't work, even if the bikes belong to some of the richest people in the country. It's nice to see they're not letting their heads be turned by all that dough. You can see their point, can't you? The rich folks have already spent their money. That makes them no more use than any other customer who has already purchased the product. Time to move on to new conquests.
I'm not sure when loyalty to old customers became a liability and the quest for new new new ones became the mark of success. I guess it's all part of the growth philosophy that drives corporate planning and cancer. An old customer is only as good as the money they're willing to spend on your new product. And since the products are poorly thought out and badly supported, new customers are your only hope. Go for the people who haven't heard about you yet!
Monday, July 07, 2014
Bike Shop Gynecology
Dealing with issues of saddle discomfort, we in the bike shop business often have to provide courteous and thoughtful technical support to people describing their particular problem in their intimate regions.
After years of this I have -- or thought I had -- developed a few general principles to help a rider select an appropriate saddle. I will never suggest a specific saddle. I don't want the blame if it doesn't work out. But by using a sizer to find the actual pelvic pressure points and then describing how riding style and position influences the choice of saddle shape and composition I can usually help a rider make a good choice on their own.
Yesterday I learned about a new variable.
A woman had called to ask about setting her old bike up with a more upright position and, by the way, trying to find a more comfortable saddle. These are common requests. When she came in with her bike I determined that she could do almost anything she wanted to customize her position. So far so good. Then she pointed to the saddle and said she was very uncomfortable on it.
The saddle looked like a 1990 Avocet women's gel mountain bike saddle. It's a pretty generic wedge. I pointed out that the shape of the top of it makes you think it's level when it's actually pushing you forward onto the narrow nose. I explained how it's counter intuitive, but setting the nose up on a saddle like this helps keep you on the part of the saddle where you want to be. She was nodding along all right, but she had a question.
"I don't know how much you know about female anatomy," she said, "but all vaginas are not the same." She didn't say it reprovingly, she said it to introduce her particular problem. She proceeded to describe her own genital architecture in sufficient detail that I immediately had a mental picture. You might think this was too much information, but it was completely relevant. The responsibility was on me to meet her trust with my own trustworthiness. We discussed various things she can try that have worked for other women I know who ride.
I won't pretend I did not have a few mental gyrations going on as she took me on this journey into her pants on a beautiful sunny morning. I make no claim to superhuman powers of detachment. I'll find the detachment when it's required, but I may have to dope slap a few primitive compulsions while I'm doing it. If my work more routinely exposed me to intimate revelations I might develop a more seamless compartmentalization. Instead it's like so much else we deal with in our shop. You never know when you'll have to go from a Huffy to a Cervelo, from a billionaire to a dishwasher, from laughing it up with your fellow greasy grunts to guarding someone's intimate secrets. I'm going to assume for the moment that she doesn't just dart around telling everyone about the configuration of her private parts. That's all up to her. Like I said, in this case it was completely relevant. That's all I know.
After years of this I have -- or thought I had -- developed a few general principles to help a rider select an appropriate saddle. I will never suggest a specific saddle. I don't want the blame if it doesn't work out. But by using a sizer to find the actual pelvic pressure points and then describing how riding style and position influences the choice of saddle shape and composition I can usually help a rider make a good choice on their own.
Yesterday I learned about a new variable.
A woman had called to ask about setting her old bike up with a more upright position and, by the way, trying to find a more comfortable saddle. These are common requests. When she came in with her bike I determined that she could do almost anything she wanted to customize her position. So far so good. Then she pointed to the saddle and said she was very uncomfortable on it.
The saddle looked like a 1990 Avocet women's gel mountain bike saddle. It's a pretty generic wedge. I pointed out that the shape of the top of it makes you think it's level when it's actually pushing you forward onto the narrow nose. I explained how it's counter intuitive, but setting the nose up on a saddle like this helps keep you on the part of the saddle where you want to be. She was nodding along all right, but she had a question.
"I don't know how much you know about female anatomy," she said, "but all vaginas are not the same." She didn't say it reprovingly, she said it to introduce her particular problem. She proceeded to describe her own genital architecture in sufficient detail that I immediately had a mental picture. You might think this was too much information, but it was completely relevant. The responsibility was on me to meet her trust with my own trustworthiness. We discussed various things she can try that have worked for other women I know who ride.
I won't pretend I did not have a few mental gyrations going on as she took me on this journey into her pants on a beautiful sunny morning. I make no claim to superhuman powers of detachment. I'll find the detachment when it's required, but I may have to dope slap a few primitive compulsions while I'm doing it. If my work more routinely exposed me to intimate revelations I might develop a more seamless compartmentalization. Instead it's like so much else we deal with in our shop. You never know when you'll have to go from a Huffy to a Cervelo, from a billionaire to a dishwasher, from laughing it up with your fellow greasy grunts to guarding someone's intimate secrets. I'm going to assume for the moment that she doesn't just dart around telling everyone about the configuration of her private parts. That's all up to her. Like I said, in this case it was completely relevant. That's all I know.
Saturday, July 05, 2014
Social Worker
Since my colleague George returned from the distant land of Nova Scotia the mood in the workshop has gone from glum and tedious to a facsimile of the old determined chaos. The glory days are gone forever, but we can still have fun doing good work.
Summer business arrived overnight as the Fourth of July weekend began. The Fourth itself was torrentially rainy here, so parades and fireworks were postponed. The forecast probably kept a lot of people away entirely, but the ones who showed up had little else to do but stroll through the shops. We got a lot of repair work done.
Hurricane Arthur rolled past last night. Tropical rain poured down until at least 5:30 this morning. Sunrise revealed a gray-green overcast similar to what we'd been enduring for several days already. But a freshening breeze tore a few pale blue rips in it. Dropping temperatures and humidity foretold the clearing day.
The season of celebrity rumors and occasional actual sightings is upon us. I really wonder how many movie and TV star types who have been reported in town have ever actually been there. I know some really do spend some time here, but it's probably a lot less than the impression created by the gossip. When would they have time to do whatever made them famous if they're lolling by the lake for weeks?
Deep throating pot roast aside, it's good to see the variety of work that summer brings. With Big G back in action I feel less like the last guy at the Alamo, thinking, "I'm doing this just so we can have Texas? &%#$@# that!" Banter passes the time much better than a solitary battle. Each individual gets more work done.
Summer business arrived overnight as the Fourth of July weekend began. The Fourth itself was torrentially rainy here, so parades and fireworks were postponed. The forecast probably kept a lot of people away entirely, but the ones who showed up had little else to do but stroll through the shops. We got a lot of repair work done.
Hurricane Arthur rolled past last night. Tropical rain poured down until at least 5:30 this morning. Sunrise revealed a gray-green overcast similar to what we'd been enduring for several days already. But a freshening breeze tore a few pale blue rips in it. Dropping temperatures and humidity foretold the clearing day.
The season of celebrity rumors and occasional actual sightings is upon us. I really wonder how many movie and TV star types who have been reported in town have ever actually been there. I know some really do spend some time here, but it's probably a lot less than the impression created by the gossip. When would they have time to do whatever made them famous if they're lolling by the lake for weeks?
Deep throating pot roast aside, it's good to see the variety of work that summer brings. With Big G back in action I feel less like the last guy at the Alamo, thinking, "I'm doing this just so we can have Texas? &%#$@# that!" Banter passes the time much better than a solitary battle. Each individual gets more work done.
Thursday, July 03, 2014
Funky assembly #479
"I was told this bike was put together by someone who didn't know what they were doing," the customer said. She brought in an early- '90s Cannondale road bike. Initially she had wanted to know if the bike would take wide enough tires to ride comfortably on the local rail trail. At best the frame and fork would accommodate a 28 tire if it wasn't too tall. So the discussion moved to a tune up.
"Someone I was riding with said the brakes were backwards or something," she added. We haven't figured out what that meant, but I've found a few other weird things. No one had mentioned the horribly stiff headset. I took that apart to find it packed with something that acts more like plumber's putty than grease.
I'm having to pick the stiffened crud out manually because it will not dissolve in any solvent I have tried so far.
The workshop has gone from a trickle of repairs to a flood. Before you say some stupid thing like, "It's great to be busy," imagine getting six weeks worth of meat by having a 12 pound pot roast shoved down your throat. This shit was fun back in the rockin' 1990s, with another really good full time mechanic sharing the load. We were a center of activity then, not an afterthought. We're just another errand now, like getting the dry cleaning done. Maybe we get a tad more appreciation, but no more of the old feeling that we were in the middle of the action.
Since I started writing this a couple of hours ago I've been dragged away from the cruddy headset to deal with several more urgent crises. And the headset was part of a repair already marked as urgent itself.
Back to it.
"Someone I was riding with said the brakes were backwards or something," she added. We haven't figured out what that meant, but I've found a few other weird things. No one had mentioned the horribly stiff headset. I took that apart to find it packed with something that acts more like plumber's putty than grease.
The workshop has gone from a trickle of repairs to a flood. Before you say some stupid thing like, "It's great to be busy," imagine getting six weeks worth of meat by having a 12 pound pot roast shoved down your throat. This shit was fun back in the rockin' 1990s, with another really good full time mechanic sharing the load. We were a center of activity then, not an afterthought. We're just another errand now, like getting the dry cleaning done. Maybe we get a tad more appreciation, but no more of the old feeling that we were in the middle of the action.
Since I started writing this a couple of hours ago I've been dragged away from the cruddy headset to deal with several more urgent crises. And the headset was part of a repair already marked as urgent itself.
Back to it.
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