Thursday, February 2, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
One for the Ladies! - Schwinn Super Sport
Long time no talk. Thats because I've been tending to my new lady. Rubbing her down both inside and out. Sometimes she needs the gentle touch; however, more often than not requires a brutish manhandling. Sure, she's the color of a spray on tan gone wrong, but, man look at those curves...fillet brazed!!! HOT.
Ok, fine, she's just a bike. But a ladies' bike. I think I'll call her Linda.
Our tryst started innocently enough... I recently bought a new house. The most exciting part, besides moving out of my real life wife's parent's house, was that the house included a bike. I found her (the bike, not my wife) in the loft above the garage. The years had not been good to her (still the bike). Faded and chipped paint, dry rotted tires, one of those Schwinn lighting systems that just seem so clunky, a lock around the seatpost that suggests that a one point somebody treasured her, but then later opted to toss the old hag. But like a lady of the night, Linda still has some tricks left.
The interwebs tells me that she's a 1973 Schwinn Super Sport, size 20", in Sunset Orange. The frame is certainly the highlight. Curvaceous and robust. She's just asking to be ridden all over town. The grocery store. The park. The laundromat. Yeah, you could ride her anywhere. Notably, Super Sport frames were constructed of straight gauge 4130 Cro Mo, a step up over the lower model's (i.e. Varsity) heavier steel. Even better, they were fillet brazed by hand (real American hands) in Chicago rather than electro-forged by machines (real American machines). Read all about it here. However, the parts never did the frame justice. The bike came with a heavy Astabubublalalala 1-piece crank and 1 pound kickstand. The wheels on mine were actually aluminum, but still not particularly light. AL drop handlebars with a bit of a touring bike rise to them, and a 26.8 seatpost. I'm sure all these parts were shiny at some point, but after a few (dozen) years in a detached garage, they were buffed a nice rust color.
Below you can see a woman, probably named Linda, riding a Super Sport resembling my Linda in her promiscuous youth.
After hoisting Linda down from the rafters, I almost immediate stripped her down. Her bare frame shimmered in the sun (Nora Roberts, feel free to run with this...). Thanks to foresight, months ago I had purchased an adapter to go from Astabullalalala crank to a more modern (read: light) crankset. I was slightly distressed that the adapter didn't seat entirely properly, but the BB went in fine so I'm not going to worry about it. I also had another fork that weighed about 3/4 lbs less than the stock frame, so I switched them out. The kickstand was the real conundrum. Being a bike aficionado, I scorn kickstands. They add weight, unsightly lines, and, uh, weight! But sometimes its nice to throw down the kickstand and walk away...like when you hear your mom calling, or want to jump in a four square game quick. But since I'm not 10 yrs old and $4000 carbon bikes don't come with kickstands, I decided to take it off. Plus, I have this other Schwinn that I'm trying to get up OVER 45 lbs, and it needs a heavy kickstand. Since drop bars are so 1970, I put some shiny risers on it. Routing a rear brake just looks like a hassle, and I like to live dangerously, so I'm going with just a front brake. And as an experiment I put pegs on the back. We'll see how long that lasts.
I'll add some more pictures of Linda's current state, but in the meantime, its late and I'm tired.
Ok, fine, she's just a bike. But a ladies' bike. I think I'll call her Linda.
Our tryst started innocently enough... I recently bought a new house. The most exciting part, besides moving out of my real life wife's parent's house, was that the house included a bike. I found her (the bike, not my wife) in the loft above the garage. The years had not been good to her (still the bike). Faded and chipped paint, dry rotted tires, one of those Schwinn lighting systems that just seem so clunky, a lock around the seatpost that suggests that a one point somebody treasured her, but then later opted to toss the old hag. But like a lady of the night, Linda still has some tricks left.
The interwebs tells me that she's a 1973 Schwinn Super Sport, size 20", in Sunset Orange. The frame is certainly the highlight. Curvaceous and robust. She's just asking to be ridden all over town. The grocery store. The park. The laundromat. Yeah, you could ride her anywhere. Notably, Super Sport frames were constructed of straight gauge 4130 Cro Mo, a step up over the lower model's (i.e. Varsity) heavier steel. Even better, they were fillet brazed by hand (real American hands) in Chicago rather than electro-forged by machines (real American machines). Read all about it here. However, the parts never did the frame justice. The bike came with a heavy Astabubublalalala 1-piece crank and 1 pound kickstand. The wheels on mine were actually aluminum, but still not particularly light. AL drop handlebars with a bit of a touring bike rise to them, and a 26.8 seatpost. I'm sure all these parts were shiny at some point, but after a few (dozen) years in a detached garage, they were buffed a nice rust color.
Below you can see a woman, probably named Linda, riding a Super Sport resembling my Linda in her promiscuous youth.
After hoisting Linda down from the rafters, I almost immediate stripped her down. Her bare frame shimmered in the sun (Nora Roberts, feel free to run with this...). Thanks to foresight, months ago I had purchased an adapter to go from Astabullalalala crank to a more modern (read: light) crankset. I was slightly distressed that the adapter didn't seat entirely properly, but the BB went in fine so I'm not going to worry about it. I also had another fork that weighed about 3/4 lbs less than the stock frame, so I switched them out. The kickstand was the real conundrum. Being a bike aficionado, I scorn kickstands. They add weight, unsightly lines, and, uh, weight! But sometimes its nice to throw down the kickstand and walk away...like when you hear your mom calling, or want to jump in a four square game quick. But since I'm not 10 yrs old and $4000 carbon bikes don't come with kickstands, I decided to take it off. Plus, I have this other Schwinn that I'm trying to get up OVER 45 lbs, and it needs a heavy kickstand. Since drop bars are so 1970, I put some shiny risers on it. Routing a rear brake just looks like a hassle, and I like to live dangerously, so I'm going with just a front brake. And as an experiment I put pegs on the back. We'll see how long that lasts.
I'll add some more pictures of Linda's current state, but in the meantime, its late and I'm tired.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Univega Safari Ten - The Review
When I found this bike, we were both looking for something. This Univega Safari Ten was looking for salvation, appreciation, purpose, and a thorough lube job. And I was looking for a bike, so it kind of worked out.
------FLASHBACK-----
Its the height of the naughty aughties (2007 perhaps). Becky was at school at Stony Brook. Her bike was stolen, most likely by the Mafia as it was Long Island. She asked the security guys about it and they said maybe she could find a new one from the campus bike dump. On my next visit I journeyed to the dump to find a large construction site dumpster full of mutilated bicycles. Fortunately, they were mostly just Huffys and Magnas, of which a campus genocide is of no real consequence. However, as my hope of finding something worthwhile was wavering, my gaze stretched over to an area of high grass. There, in the thicket, appeared a 80s lugged frame. Figurative rays of sunshine burst through the clouds. I walked toward it slowly, fearing it may catch my scent and flee. However, as I neared it was apparent this majestic beast was gravely injured. Fork askew, cassette ripped asunder from freewheel, rust penetrating the bottom bracket. Once, a proud lion, now stricken down, the all-engrossing grass beginning to consume it. But like Aslan in the The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I knew it could rise again. I carried the limp beast to my 1993 Geo Storm and took it home for its resurrection.
--------FLASH FORWARD------
So as you may have gathered, this is an Univega Safari Ten. All research indicates its an early 80s frame. The "Ten" signified ten-speed (2x5). It was in pretty rough shape, and all the components were crappy, rusty, and heavy (the inverse of "strong, light and cheap - pick two"..."crappy, rusty, and heavy - pick three"). As I promptly removed the original components and trashed them, I don't know the original spec. The frame is pretty heavy, even for steel, and didn't include any stickers indicating what type of steel its made of. The internet suggests plain gauge cromo with hi-ten stays and fork. I licked them and couldn't tell the difference though. I ultimately set it up as a single speed with parts I had laying around. Old Normandy rear hub. 700c wheels replaced the 27 inchers. No bar tape...I like my handlebars like I like my oysters...raw.
"But how's the ride?" you ask. "Nothing short of mediocre," I respond. In safari terms, more lion than cheetah. And more like a cape buffalo than lion. Its extra girth meant that getting up to speed was slow, but once there it rolled great. The steel frame dampened vibrations so the ride was smooth. It excelled at rolling downhill on semi-smooth pavement. However, I feared going too fast because the steering was off. I pride my ability to ride no handed (or with "no handlebars" like that one song by the Flobots), yet this bike resisted. Perhaps it was the bent fork. Perhaps it was the Safari's inner cape buffalo refusing to be tamed...shrugging off the burden of humanity for the call of the wild. No...it was definitely the bent fork.
Conclusion
The Univega Safari Ten. A fine bike as long as you don't like sprinting or going uphill. Smooth ride. Buy if: You have an extra $40 or time to go to the campus bike dump at Stony Brook. Don't buy if: You have like $75...you can get something butted.
------FLASHBACK-----
Its the height of the naughty aughties (2007 perhaps). Becky was at school at Stony Brook. Her bike was stolen, most likely by the Mafia as it was Long Island. She asked the security guys about it and they said maybe she could find a new one from the campus bike dump. On my next visit I journeyed to the dump to find a large construction site dumpster full of mutilated bicycles. Fortunately, they were mostly just Huffys and Magnas, of which a campus genocide is of no real consequence. However, as my hope of finding something worthwhile was wavering, my gaze stretched over to an area of high grass. There, in the thicket, appeared a 80s lugged frame. Figurative rays of sunshine burst through the clouds. I walked toward it slowly, fearing it may catch my scent and flee. However, as I neared it was apparent this majestic beast was gravely injured. Fork askew, cassette ripped asunder from freewheel, rust penetrating the bottom bracket. Once, a proud lion, now stricken down, the all-engrossing grass beginning to consume it. But like Aslan in the The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, I knew it could rise again. I carried the limp beast to my 1993 Geo Storm and took it home for its resurrection.
--------FLASH FORWARD------
So as you may have gathered, this is an Univega Safari Ten. All research indicates its an early 80s frame. The "Ten" signified ten-speed (2x5). It was in pretty rough shape, and all the components were crappy, rusty, and heavy (the inverse of "strong, light and cheap - pick two"..."crappy, rusty, and heavy - pick three"). As I promptly removed the original components and trashed them, I don't know the original spec. The frame is pretty heavy, even for steel, and didn't include any stickers indicating what type of steel its made of. The internet suggests plain gauge cromo with hi-ten stays and fork. I licked them and couldn't tell the difference though. I ultimately set it up as a single speed with parts I had laying around. Old Normandy rear hub. 700c wheels replaced the 27 inchers. No bar tape...I like my handlebars like I like my oysters...raw.
"But how's the ride?" you ask. "Nothing short of mediocre," I respond. In safari terms, more lion than cheetah. And more like a cape buffalo than lion. Its extra girth meant that getting up to speed was slow, but once there it rolled great. The steel frame dampened vibrations so the ride was smooth. It excelled at rolling downhill on semi-smooth pavement. However, I feared going too fast because the steering was off. I pride my ability to ride no handed (or with "no handlebars" like that one song by the Flobots), yet this bike resisted. Perhaps it was the bent fork. Perhaps it was the Safari's inner cape buffalo refusing to be tamed...shrugging off the burden of humanity for the call of the wild. No...it was definitely the bent fork.
Conclusion
The Univega Safari Ten. A fine bike as long as you don't like sprinting or going uphill. Smooth ride. Buy if: You have an extra $40 or time to go to the campus bike dump at Stony Brook. Don't buy if: You have like $75...you can get something butted.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Nishiki Colorado
First thing you notice is that this bike is BALLS heavy. Like 31lbs on the scales. As the frame is "Thin-Wall", I suspect its the components that really add the BALLS heaviness. Speaking of the components, they work well. Its a 7-speed, with an Exage 500LX crankset, rear derailleur and front derailleur. The shifting is all-thumbs, unlike later Shimano models. In the rear, dropping into a higher gear is accomplished with an affirmative click. Hopping into a lower gear isn't so satisfying. There is no click, rather its feels like a series of tiny clicks. One just stops pushing once its in gear. Works, but lacks the precision I expect in Shimano. **Spoiler** Turns out they fix this by 2010. Part of the weight problem no doubt derives from the use of an all-steel cassette. I know heavy metal was popular in the 90s, but c'mon! But seriously, upgrade to aluminum and you'll shave off some serious grams.
The Shimano M454 cantilever brakes work as advertised. The pads seem subpar, however, as they tend to pick up shards of metal from the rim. A little sanding solved the problem. Ultimately, I wish Nishiki would have specced V-brakes. Cantis require the housing to run through the stem, which just screams "I'm from the early 90s!". Honestly, its occasionally embarrassing when I'm with my fashionable bourgeois friends. Furthermore, there's no mounts for disc brakes - lack of foresight by Mr. Nishiki. Shame.
The most important part of a bike - the RIDE. Well, I rode it hard and dirty. Even with a long-looking wheelbase and long top tube it feels a little twitchy. The linear fork is stylish, but without any rake, bumps end up being rather jarring. The steel frame does a great job of dissipating vibrations, but at a weight penalty. Its tig welded at every joint except the bottom bracket, where the chain stays are lugged in.
All in all, a solid bike. I've ridden it in all types of crappy weather (mostly because I don't really like it very much), and its surprised me in a good way. Like when a standard-looking after dinner mint has a delicious soft chewy inside. It continues to shift well and just flat out work. I haven't maintained it at all, it continues to run relatively smoothly and without any painful grinding. Someday I will get out the lube and give it some love, but in the meantime Mr. Nishiki's unrequited affection will have to do.
Monday, September 13, 2010
And so it begins...
I generally find blogs lame. But I have something to say, darnit!...
SWEDISH MEATBALLS ARE DELICIOUS!
Now that I have that off my chest, lets begin...
There's plenty of magazines and websites espousing the virtues of new, fancy bikes and parts; therefore, I am going to dedicate this blog to reviewing low-end bikes and crappy old parts that I find in the trash. Occasionally I might throw in my brilliant ideas for bike products. Seldomly I may post heart-wrenching stories about a man who falls in love with a crankarm only to find its ISO, not JIS, and they can never be together.
Thats all for now. Blogs still suck.
SWEDISH MEATBALLS ARE DELICIOUS!
Now that I have that off my chest, lets begin...
There's plenty of magazines and websites espousing the virtues of new, fancy bikes and parts; therefore, I am going to dedicate this blog to reviewing low-end bikes and crappy old parts that I find in the trash. Occasionally I might throw in my brilliant ideas for bike products. Seldomly I may post heart-wrenching stories about a man who falls in love with a crankarm only to find its ISO, not JIS, and they can never be together.
Thats all for now. Blogs still suck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)