Just a heads up: this is going to be boring(er than usual). Recently, I changed the earl (oil) in my bike-moving-thing with an engine. I look forward to this time, because it’s only every 6-8 months that I get to get all greasy working on my car. Fun. Anyway, when I asked the salesdude at oh-oh-oh-o’Reilly! o’Reilly Auto Parts to fetch me an oil filter, I was given a different model Wix filter than I was used to getting. It did match the little reference book for my bike-mover though, so whatever.
Oil and filter change completed, start it up, customary fresh oil change flashy low oil pressure light, noisy valvetrain for a second, and then just a whiny and lumpy cold K20z3. Perfect. Done. (note: due to Honda’s inability to put a filter somewhere logical, it’s impossible to pre-fill the filter… it’ll just spill all over your arm and the CV boot). Next time I started the car… the same thing happened. And the next. And the next… and several more times. Hmm, something isn’t right. I should not be getting a low oil pressure light and clickity clack valvetrain noise on every start. What could it be? The new oil filter? Let’s start by taking that out of the circuit. Yep. Problem solved. Swapped that POS (white, 57536) out for the old model filter (black, 51536), and it’s back to normal, with no noise or scary low oil pressure lights.
See the differences?
Regular readers of bikes? undoubtedly remember workstand v.2. In fact, I’m sure that all of you have built your very own, as v.2 is quite handy. That said, it does have some drawbacks. These include (but are not limited to) not very many bike mounting options, compromised component accessibility, and hooks that deform when you bang on your headset cups with a mallet. Worry not loyal readers, as I’ve found a solution… and guess what? This one is totally free.
Materials list:
- 1 (one) Jeni
- 1 (one) birthday
Once you gather all of that, you end up with a Park Tool PCS-10:
As you can see, the PCS-10 allows for lots of movement and accessibility. Sweeeet. In addition to it being sweeeet, it also folds up for the sake of portability. No picture of that though, as I’m sure you’re all capable of using the internet.
“Oh no! What’s going to happen to v.2?! It’s so awesome and useful!” you may be thinking. No need to fret. It will still be used… maybe I should buy another bike to hang on it. Yeah. That’s a wonderful idea.
I riding along yesterday, minding my own business, and my chain randomly peeled itself apart. I’m sure it had everything to do with my hill-crushing power simply overcoming the chain and nothing at all to do with the gritty, sticky mud that caused the chain to hang up in the derailleur… and the fact that I decided, stupidly, to power through the jam. Slowing down on a climb would look bad on my Strava ride report, after all. That line of thinking resulted in this:
Luckily, I started carrying a couple of these when I ride (Why more than one? Helping other riders results in good trail karma, plus I’ve broken chains multiple times on the same ride.):
At only a couple of bucks a pop, these are much more reasonably priced that the big(ger) named alternatives. I used to just carry the chain tool for such situations, but with the move toward more gears, chains have gotten thinner and weaker… so no pin removal and reinsertion recommended here.
More photos from the open-range slippery and muddy ride at Rockville:
Protip: Try not to spook a cow. That many pounds of free-range hamburgers moving erratically next to the trail is a little scary.
I’ve had my most recent car for a total of 23,672 miles. This seems sufficient to have formed and opinion or two, so here:
When I bought this car, it had 34,380 miles. In the subsequent almost two years of ownership, nothing has broken or worn out. That’s good. It’s fun… that’s good too. It’s returned an average of 31.4 miles for every gallon of expensive California not-quite-real gasoline. That’s also good. The best part though is that there is room for a bike or two inside.
What’s not so good is the paint. Since this particular car hails from Japan by way of Canada, it’s not all that surprising. I expected it to chip easily and such. What I didn’t expect are plastic bits (bumpers, spoiler, mirrors) that seem to be aging at a different rate than the rest of the car. By that I mean that they aren’t aging, but the painted metal surfaces are. See?
No, that’s not due to different lighting or angles or anything. The plastic stuff (left) is deeper and more twinkly than the metal stuff (right). It’s especially noticeable on the bumper/fender relationship. I don’t remember it being that way when I bought it, and I’d think my nit-picky self would have noticed such a defect. I’m not too worried about it though, because every other one of these cars in this color that I’ve seen has the same problem, at least to some extent.
The other thing that I don’t like about this car is the noise, especially in California. Why is that? California is broke and most of the highways are worn out and are in need of repair that they’ll never get, that’s why. Why does this make the car loud? Again, because it’s from Japan by way of Canada. Pretty much all cars born that way are kinda noisy, as sound deadening adds weight and subtracts efficiency.
That should just about sum up my thoughts about this car. Would I recommend it? Yes, I would.
For some reason, the Mavic Crossmax freehub bushing doesn’t last very long. Mine has been shot for a few years, but up until recently, I didn’t really ride it all that much and didn’t care. That has changed with the rebuild of Lucy-the-$90-S-works-M2, as her mulleted brake setup requires a rear rim brake, and the black and ceramic Crossmax looks cool. I probably should have “maintained” it a bit more regularly by squirting some mineral oil on the bushing, but I’m used to Shimano stuff that works flawlessly for decades without attention.
Dave had a similar bushing failure a while back, and he solved it by buying and installing a new $70 freehub body. I was about to do the same, but decided to do a little more research. After reading around about how annoying these things are, I stumbled upon the Hubdoctor bushing service kit. For $14, you get a new bushing, bearing, dust seal, washer, oil, sand paper, and detailed instructions. Why sand paper? The replacement bushing is .003″ oversized, which is intended to make up for any wear on the aluminum hub that may have been caused by a negligent owner (me, for example). If it fits too snugly, as mine did, you can sand it to fit.
Removal of the freehub is a simple process, and once it’s off, you get to tap out the old bearing and destroy the old bushing with a screwdriver:
Then you tap in the new stuff, taking care to not destroy the new bushing or bearing:
Lastly, you reassemble, check for bushing fitment, and sand as needed. All together, it took about 15 minutes. We’ll see how well this holds up.
You may have noticed that the photos are slightly suckier than usual… that’s because I took them with the iPad.
I often find myself out in the garage, rebuilding or taking apart a bike.
See? I found myself doing just that earlier tonight, removing a toasted bottom bracket from project 14-year-old S-works.
This makes me happy. What doesn’t make me happy is trying to find the stupid 8mm t-handle allen wrench in the pile of crap that has accumulated on my small but useful work stand.
That’s some crap, and it’s in my way.
I finally got around to doing something about it, and since I’ve purged all of my money on bikes, I did it on the cheap. In this case, on the cheap means totally free.
Materials List:
- 1 (one) Work Stand v.2
- 1 (one) drill
- Some (some) drill bits of varying sizes, preferably slightly larger than the diameter of whatever part of whatever tool(s) you’re trying to stick through the hole(s) that you’re going to make
- 1 (one) ruler
- 1 (one) pencil
- The ability to measure things
About half way through using all of that stuff, you’ll arrive at this:
After playing with your friendly drill, you get this:
Then you stick the wrenches in their appropriate homes, and you can get back to putting things together and taking them apart.
I’ve spent the last couple of nights in the car-hole trying to make a homebrewed chain tensioner for use on the single speed Pisgah project. Yes, I could just go buy one for $30, but that’s no fun. I made a couple of tensioners, and they mostly worked… but they weren’t quite reliable enough for bumpy off-road fun.
The issue came with keeping the chain properly tensioned and from falling off… then I decided to try everything on my ’98 Specialized S-works frame, as the chain stay is a little shorter. That wasn’t any better. So, since the entire point of a single speed bike is simplicity and reliability, I decided to just do the simple and reliable thing and build up a geared version of the old S-works. In addition to the frame being awesome and red, my ugly Fox RL fork crown clears the down tube. That’s cool. Plus, this way I won’t have to rebuild it as a geared bike once I get tired (again) of single speedin’ around.
Needs a silver stem, huh? That and the 14-year-old bottom bracket has a slight amount of play… but it works.
Know what’s the coolest and most awesomest thing of all? This bike fits Jeni a bit better than the now-forkless Turner. Lucy is back. Woo!
I know, there are billions (OK, maybe 20 or so) people out there with opinions on the 29″ wheel vs. 26″ wheel debate. This past weekend, I decided to to a little direct comparison of my own. It didn’t start out that way… initially, I took my trusty 26″ Litespeed Pisgah to the trails simply because the disc brake adapter turned out to be a pretty swell camera mount. Once I got to the trail head though, I was all like “whoa, I can totally see if my recent outlay of about one third of a brand spankin’ new 2013 Nissan Versa sedan was worth it”. (for those not in the know, the 2013 Versa sedan is the cheapest new car that you can buy. Sweet. I’d rather have three bikes.)
On to my short review: On the 29er, I rode further, faster, and funner (yep, funner). On the 26er, I popped huge wheelies, came to appreciate the advances in suspension fork design over the past 7 years, and was reminded how much better disc brakes are than rim brakes.
Conclusion? They’re both a hoot, but one is better for old people. In other words, the 26er requires more to do what the 29er can do with less. To not feel so old, I’m going to finally go hunt down a functional single speed chain tensioner for the Pisgah… and that’s like double badass. Singlespeed 29ers are badass, and I predict that 26er riders will soon become known as crotchety old badasses. So, double badass.
Makes about as much sense as this post, huh?
In an attempt to find a practical use for the iPad, I read Jules Verne’s The Mysterious Island with the Kindle for iPad application… all 7,500 fake pages worth. Good story, but a total let down of an ending. Anyway, the iPad was OK, but had surprisingly short battery life, and after about 30 minutes, made my right eye twitch. It’s also not very comfortable to hold for any length of time.
It just so happens that Hanukkah Harry bought Jeni a Kindle Keyboard for Christmakkuhbirthday, and I was impressed. I was so impressed, I figured that I’d give a refurbished Kindle a try. So I did. How do I like it? The display is easier on the eyes, sharper, and doesn’t have any glare. The general design is better as well – physical buttons are better placed than a touch screen swipe, it’s a lighter, and the battery lasts up to two months.
So, as a fake book, the Kindle Keyboard is the way to go. I tried the touch, and it was slow and sucky. I didn’t try the cheapest version. I was pretty set on the keyboard, mainly because of usability but also because it kind of looks like a Sharp digital organizer that I had in the mid-90s. Plus it plays MP3s, which for some reason, appeals to me. The iPad is neat and everything, but outside of testing websites for work and reading the news or something quick online (some of the news readers are pretty good), I don’t really use it. Wait, I do occasionally use it for a Pandora radio when I’m working out in the garage. I used to watch Netflix on it, but soon realized that a laptop works a lot better.
Shiny and fingerprinty vs. well, not.
The other day, I decided to be all Davis-like and ride my bike to get some Starbucks. I was tired, and I had a good bit of work to knock out. It’s only a mile away, so I figured that I’d just stuff my peppermint mocha (complete with sippy hole plug) in one of my more delicate bottle cages and try to restrain myself from hucking off of rooftops and Prii on the way home. Seemed like a good plan. Boy, was I wrong:
In addition to splattering all over my sparkly white LeMond frame (the horror), it got cold. Cold! I barely like coffee anyway (a peppermint mocha is as close as I’ll get), and I espeically don’t like cold syrupy coffee.
What to do? Buy a mug to do. So after Jeni got home from work, we headed on over to the local Target and, in between arguing about an ugly snowman towel, found the travel mug section. Stainless or plastic? Jeni is a huge fan of her stainless Starbucks mug. The problem is that it’s $24. The other problem is that I’m cheap. So, a $10 plastic recycled Aladdin mug was purchased. She kept on insisting that I’d made a poor choice in the keep-it-warm department. I agreed that it wouldn’t be as toasty as her setup, but I didn’t expect the following:
As you can see, Jeni’s dented stainless steel mug ran away with the victory. Way to be, $24 mug.
Yes, my control should have been a paper cup, but whatever. I’m not a scientist. I also forgot to check if the Aladdin leaks, but I doubt it. I’d planned on a full 60-mintue test, but my brats were getting cold. If there’s one thing that I hate more than cold coffee, it’s cold bratwurst, and I’m not sure that there is such a thing as a bratwurst mug.
