Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Acorn. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Acorn. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, March 1, 2020

Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen

I don't think it really needed it, but being over seven years old now, and spending most of the daylight hours in a very sunny room or out on the open road, I decided it was time to give my Acorn Boxy Rando handlebar bag a coat of wax, as much preventive maintenance as anything. I rarely actually find myself riding in any sort of serious downpour, but I love this bag and want to make sure it can stand up to the elements and will pass the test of time. So I dug the can of Martexin wax I purchased when I bought the bag and set about to provide a new protective layer to the canvas.

Acorn Boxy Rando before: ashy but still very beautiful after seven years
Instructions for waxing canvas basically boil down to: rub some wax on it, heat it with a blow dryer, and voilà you're done. And that does mostly cover it. But there were two issues about which I was unsure as I rolled up my sleeves and got to work - how much wax and what sort of applicator is the best? I had actually bought a couple of small paint brushes in anticipation of melting the wax and "painting" it on. But as I looked at the rather small quantity of wax in the 1.5 oz. (42g) tin, it occurred to me it would never stretch that far. 

I had seen some instructions suggesting using a sponge or cloth, but it didn't seem like that would work well either. The wax is kind of clingy and when warmed tends to absorb into cloth, so I thought the piece of t-shirt I might employ would likely soak up as much wax as the bag itself. So ultimately I elected to just use my fingers, and in the end I think that's the approach that works best. I started by warming the bag with a hair dryer for a minute or so before scooping a bit of wax on my finger tip and starting to rub it in, one small section at a time. But that approach was extremely awkward and the Managing Partner's Conair was getting pretty sticky before too long. 

Acorn Boxy Rando after: oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen
Ultimately I decided to just rub the wax on cold and go over the bag with the blow dryer afterward. That proved to be, in my estimation, the best approach. I probably went a little too heavy, especially at first before I got the hang of it, but I would say the bag is now ready for another decade on the bike. In addition to making the bag water resistant, I feel that the wax provides kind of structural reinforcement as well. I have no actual proof of that, but it seems that having the fibers coated in a protective layer of gooey wax is bound to make them more resilient.  

Acorn's FAQ page recommends against waxing the edging, since it's apparently synthetic fiber of some sort. But I did it anyway. I can't imagine how it could hurt, and couldn't figure out how not to get wax all over it. Hope I don't void the warranty!

Acorn Boxy Rando, saddle tan, newly waxed
Acorn no longer produces a bag called the Boxy Rando, but it makes a pretty similar, and in some respects probably an improved version called the Medium Rando Bag. Available colors include black, gray and brown. The black is black - none more black. The gray is reminiscent of the classic glue/gray bags by Giles Bertoud. And the brown is a nice, medium hue with contrasting dark brown accents. The leather appointments really look great on this one. Acorn bags are no longer available in Saddle Tan though, which was kind of a greenish loden color. I'm sure the brown complements the color palette of Brooks saddles and bar tape better than Saddle Tan, but I really love my boxy rando as it is. Should I get another I guess I'd get the brown, but I'm counting on the Martexin wax to see to it that I don't need another for a long time.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

A woman, a bike and a chicken, whole and roasted.

The Acorn Handlebar Bag
The Acorn Handlebar Bag
You know, if you have been following this blog, that I’m a big fan of the rack-mounted handlebar bag. But they won’t work with carbon frames (or really any bike with a “modern” racing front fork – no eyelet for the rack). As it happens, my stable contains a modern lightweight bike which I bought because I wanted a bike that would minimize the effort it takes to ride it so I could go farther, longer, more comfortably (okay, titanium or steel might be more comfortable, but the carbon certainly is better on my back than my old aluminum when it comes to the long rides).

Okay, you know it as well as I do. I bought a fashionable carbon fiber racing bike because I am a fan of competitive cycling and so in my perverse male ego I harbor delusions of riding like the professionals do. All I need is the exact same bike Sparticus rides and when some scout from an elite ProTeam gets a load of me ambling along Rock Creek Park on a Saturday morning, he will have no alternative but to recruit me on the spot into their senior division. Of course all having such a bike has accomplished is to drive a stake into the heart of any fantasy I ever had that I could be a racer. But still, I like the bike and I like to ride pretty long distances in places far from home.

And when I'm on such an "epic" ride, out in the glorious country, miles from the clutter and chaos of extraneous things like stores that are open on Sundays, I often find the need to eat and drink more than I can carry in my pockets. I occasionally want to swap out clothing as the day heats up, or to have warmer, drier clothes available when unexpected weather hits. When in unfamiliar locales I might even find it convenient to carry a map (I can see the Garmin owners' eyes rolling). So there you go - I like long rides, but I'm not exactly a touring rider. I like a light, racing style bike, because I've been brainwashed by the ads and reviews in cycling magazines to lust after the latest and greatest technology. But such bikes aren't conducive to portaging the several belongings I sometimes prefer to carry when venturing into the hinterland. Much as I look longingly over my shoulder, that damn team car just never seems to pull up alongside to take my unwanted rain jacket, to provide directions or to pass a prosciutto and Asiago panini out the window. Sowhattayagonnado?

Well, as of last week I am the proud owner of a new bar-mounted bag from the master craftspersons at Acorn Bags. This one is in black and was bought for the Madone, while the rack-mounted Rando in saddle tan has, since last autumn, perched on the front rack of my '86 Fuji Allegro. And I have to say that I love this thing. It's big enough to carry my phone, rain jacket, all the food I'm likely to need for a long day on the bike. And I can even remove a jersey or some tights when it warms up and don't have to cram my jersey pockets with all this stuff. And unlike the Rando, this one is rock solid. The wooden stabilizer bar keeps its shape and the stiffer-than-ripstop fabric keeps it from wobbling around. I just love the rider-facing rear pockets with their shiny turn-buckles, though the cables from my Ultegra make them less convenient than those on the Fuji with its center-pull brakes. I just can't say enough about how great these Acorn products are - and they're made in the United States. Bonus!

Of course this bag is an abomination to contemporary weight weenies, who spend fortunes to shave every gram from their UCI certified trophy bikes. But in my heart of hearts I know I’m an old fart who thinks cycling should be fun and practical, so screw ‘em. I have a big ol’ canvas bag with leather “appointments” on the front of my carbon fibré superbike. So what? Am I a walking talking (not to mention rolling!) ball of hypocritical contradiction? You bet. But I can carry a whole roasted chicken with me when I ride my bike. And chicken grease doesn’t drip down my butt while I ride. Can you say that? 

Related reading:

Saturday, May 30, 2026

Pegasus soars

You may recall that in September 2024, in a fit of FOMO, I bought a Crust Lightning Bolt Cantilever frame in Light Sea Green. In my most recent post, I noted that I was nearly finished assembling the bike, and I can now confirm that I have achieved a state of substantial completion. It's been a longish process, and I'm glad to be [nearly] finished. All that's really left is tinkering with some of the very minor details, such as where exactly to mount the headlight. I think otherwise, the bike has turned out exactly as I hoped. 

Crust Lightning Bolt Cantilever Light Sea Green - XS

The bike is very close to the ideal randonneuse as long described in the pages of Bicycle Quarterly magazine. When interviewed by Russ at Path Less Pedaled, Crust's founder Matt White said, "shake the pages of Bicycle Quarterly and this fell out." Jan Heine himself validated the bike in BQ 70 writing, "The Lightning Bolt takes much of the performance, handling and versatility of our favorite bikes and makes them accessible to a greater audience. That is a cause for celebration." 

I, for one, am definitely celebrating.  

You may recall that this is, in fact, my second Lightning Bolt. Back in 2022, I bought the one in black. It's been my main bike ever since, and I honestly think it's the best bike I've ever ridden. I kept Blackie light, without lighting or fenders. There's a rack, but no decaleur, so I tend to use small bags like the Zimbale in the afore-linked bike check, or the Berthoud Alex Singer Mini Bag. But I wanted to have a full-blown randonneuse, outfitted with fenders and dynamo lighting, so when Crust uncharacteristically put the frames on sale in September, 2024, I had no choice but to grab one. Come on, $975 for the finest steel production frameset ever made? Fuggetaboudit. 

Now it's finally come together after a year and three quarters. As before, I had Travis at Just Riding Along Bike Shop (JRABS) prep the frame and install the headset and bottom bracket. This time though, I let him run the cables and housing and set up the whole drive train. In retrospect I should probably have done the cabling myself, since after fiddling with fenders and the rack, I ended up having to redo it anyway. But I was a bit nervous about installing the front derailer clamp, so I just had him set up the whole thing.  

Campagnolo Veloce 10-speed front derailer

As mentioned in my previous post, I spec'd this bike very similarly to its doppelgänger, looking to create essentially an identical bike for poor weather and winter riding. I stayed with the same drivetrain, featuring MicroSHIFT MTB 2 x 10 bar-end shifters, and their "Mega" rear derailer, paired with Velo-Orange's 46/30 crankset, shifted by a Compagnolo Veloce front mech. The headset is the same 1-inch threaded Campagnolo Record, but the bottom bracket is an Origin8 TorqLite square taper. Pretty much exactly the same set-up as Blackie.   

Origin8 "Classique" levers with MicroSHIFT MTB 2/10 friction shifters

MicroSHIFT "Mega" rear derailer. 47 tooth capacity

The cockpit is where components are just a hair different. I scavenged the 80mm Soma Sutro stem from my old Fuji, and paired it with a pair of 44cm Nitto B132 Grand Randonneur handlebars I bought some time ago. This makes the bars 2cm wider than the 42s on Blackie, just a touch higher and 20mm farther forward. I suspect it all works out in the wash; at least I haven't noticed much difference between the two setups in the admittedly short shakedown rides I've done so far. I also opted, as you'll note in the picture below, for a shiny Japanese Crane bell procured from the local shop Terrapin Bicycles, rather than the spiffy Spurcycle bell I have on my other Crust. 

Soma Sutro stem, Nitto B132 handlebar, and Crane bell
 I used the same Soma Mini Champs-Elysees mini front rack, but here's where I first ran into trouble. There isn't room between the fender and the bottom headset cup to fit the "diving board" rack strut. I had the same issue with both my Cycles Toussaint Vélo Routier v2 and my previous Lightning Bolt. Sorting out the Vélo Routier took some fancy metal bending, owing to the presence of the center-pull brakes, but for the Lightning Bolt I took the lazy way out and just turned the strut upside down. Not by any means the best solution, but it worked and got me on the bike without having to make another trip to the hardware store. I also didn't have to fiddle with the angle of the brake's straddle cable. 

Fork mounted diving board rack strut
Tire clearance; who needs it?

For the green Crust, that solution wouldn't work, because the fender is in the way. So I bit the bullet and bought a chrome spacer that moves the strut forward enough to clear the headset cup. Everything about the solution is superior. The diving board didn't need to be bent much, it doesn't interfere with the fender, and it generally just looks more "right". I've subsequently added a spacer to Blackie, so both bikes are set up the same, i.e., correctly.

diving board
1/4 x 1/4 inch chrome spacer pushes out the rack strut from the fork crown
At the sharp end of the fender I mounted a Busch + Müller IQ-XS dynamo headlight using the included mount, taking advantage of the Crust dynamo wheelset I bought with the frameset. I'm not crazy about how far forward it puts the light, and may end up trying to mount it below the rack using a Nitto lamp holder (#7), or the très cool DIY chainring solution. 
 

Busch + Müller IQ-XS dynamo headlight
Busch + Müller IQ-XS dynamo headlight

Though I had initially planned to use a plastic chainstay protector, I ultimately decided to use bar tape to match the handlebars. I had contemplated wrapping the chainstay in that cloth tape/twine Rivendellian way, but abandoned the idea because I'm just too lazy and don't have any cloth tape or shellac and am not inclined to wrap my handlebars that way. Also, I had bought some cheapo "celeste" tape on eBay and completely hate it - it won't last on the handlebars for long - so I had a bunch of it at the ready. So, I'll peel off the adhesive and keep it around to wrap the chainstay. I might even try it on Blackie, just for shiz and giggles.   

Crappy bar tape works fine as a chainstay protector

Crust says, "The Bolt's Fork features our new Gran Trajet Fork Crown meaning they suit a 48b tire perfectly, and will fit 42s with fenders. The Gran Trajet fork crown is designed to perfectly mimic the arch of a fender like the Honjo Smooth 62, to leave you with a seamless look." I'm not a fan of smooth fenders, since they tend to show the inevitable scratches and dents. I thought I might get away with the SimWorks by Honjo Turtle 58 fenders, which have that traditional "hammered" texture, but they've been out of stock the entire time I've been looking for them. 

On my two other fendered bikes, I've used Velo Orange fenders and have been pleased with them. Though I was extremely hesitant to go with the Wavy 58mm model, fearing they would just be too weird looking, they were immediately available and seemed like they'd be the right size. In the end I'm glad I did. The bike has a typically Crust-ian funky aesthetic, with its ridiculous Cooper lettering and the odd doodles all over the frame, so I figured what the hell, might as well lean into the funkiness with the mind-bendingly psychedelic wavy chrome. Thrown on a Blue Lug mini triangle reflector for some alt-bike cred, and I think the whole package looks pretty good. Plus, they went on with relative ease. No issues with the front derailer. No funky drilling needed. I did have to do just a bit of metal bending to squeeze the front edge of the rear fender between the chainstays, but nothing you'd really notice. And they integrated with the rack perfectly, so there's a bolt fastening the two together, which gives them both a more solid structure. AND, I got the fenders on sale for just over half what the Honjos would have cost. Score! 

Blue Lug mini pizza reflector
Reflective Blue Lug energy!

Speaking of the bike's doodles, I presume the figure to the left of the decal is Zeus, but does anyone know who the woman to the right is? Hera? Aphrodite? Astrapè? And what about the constellations and urn on the inside of the non-drive side chain stay? Anybody got any ideas about possible meanings? Anyhow... 

Zeus!Hera?
Zues and a mystery woman adorn the Lightning Bolt's downtube

So now the bike itself is in pretty good shape, with all the functional bits working. I added a pair of Velo Orange Moderniste stainless steel bottle cages, a Silca Impero Ultimate II frame pump, and what turns out to be one of the last Acorn Medium Rando handlebar bags (they just announced their retirement). The saddle is an old Specialized Avatar I had in the bin of unloved saddles, and the Shimano PD-M540 pedals were scavenged from another bike. 

All dressed up and ready to go

Of course what self-respecting Crust owner wouldn't "virtue signal" with some enamel pins, so the bag got one each from The Satanic Temple of Salem, Massachusetts, Crust and Blue Lug's famous Tobidashi kun.

Acorn brand Medium Rando Bag
One of the last of the Acorn Rando bags
 Now there's nothing left to do but ride. Time to let Pegasus soar! See you on the roads. I'll be the one with the goofy grin on his face.  

Pegasus, carrier of Zeus' thunderbolts 

 Build List

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Acorns in Autumn

So you’re going out for a ride Saturday morning with some friends. You reckon you’ll be out for around three hours or so. When you start temperatures are going to be in the low fifties and when you finish they’ll be in the mid seventies. So where you gonna put your stuff? You know, your arm warmers, your leg warmers, your knee warmers, your wrist warmers, your neck gaiter, your thermal beanie, your long-fingered gloves, your energy bars, your gels, your electrolyte capsules, your hydration tablets, your cell phone, your keys, your lip balm – you know, your stuff.

Well, the roadies will of course stuff it all into those three pockets on the back of their Italian made jerseys and make like a domestique with a shirt full of bottles for the team. Their stuff isn’t very voluminous anyway, since they’re all on strict calory-free diets and all their clothing is purpose built with only the latest fly weight hi-tech fabrics by Italian artisans in a small factory just outside of Milan. Either that or they just stuff a newspaper down the front of their jerseys and toss it when they get too hot. And of course their team cars will be along any minute now to collect their surplus stuff anyway.

The urban, fixie hipsters can keep their stuff in one of those huge, formless messenger bags with the seatbelt for a shoulder strap. The bong and stash shouldn't be taking up that much space in there, so there should be plenty of room.  

The tourers will no doubt pack it all into one of the voluminous panniers adorning their rig. Or on their bike trailer, somewhere between the tent, the sleeping bags, cook stove and toilet paper.

The jaunty CycloChics have the delightful, flower festooned baskets on their retro mixtes, brimming with bottles of wine, loaves of French bread and hunks of cheese in which to store their goodies. Not to mention the handbag strewn over their shoulder and the pockets of their trendy cycling jackets. 

The mountain bikers have all those pockets and bungee cords on their gigantic hydration backpacks.

The Acorn Boxy Rando mounted on the '86 Fuji Allegro
But I have recently gone in a different direction. I have recently come under the spell of the old, the vintage, le retro.  I’ve started seeing the randonneurs out of the corner of my eye, and have a strong attraction to their aesthetic. It’s got a kind of Steam Punk / Victorian thing going on that speaks of whacky British explorers and faraway lands. And there’s something these randonneurs all seem to love – French Handlbar bags. After seeing a few of them around town, I simply had to have one. 

Now the classic French bags are Gilles Berthoud bags, but I have a bit of a buy American (if at all practicable) thing, so I searched around a bit to see if I couldn’t find something made by folks a little closer to home. And sure enough, there are several makers out there producing this style of bag. Most seem closer to bespoke mom-n-pop shops, and that suits me just fine. 

The one I ultimately chose is by Acorn Bags, a small two-person, husband and wife shop in Southern California. They make so few products, you have to get on a waiting list to be notified when the small batches go on sale. So you get an e-mail on Sunday night that says, “Tomorrow a batch of bags in [one of three colors offered] will go on sale starting at 9:00 AM, Pacific Time.” Then, when you go to the site, you have about 20 seconds from the time it becomes available to put the item in your cart or they will be sold out. I got lucky on my first try and scored a Boxy Rando in Saddle Tan. 

There is no denying the attraction. These boxy bags, made from waxed cotton with leather and brass, nestle neatly between the handlebar drops. Contrary to what the name might imply, they don’t actually hang from the handlebars, but are propped on a small rack above the front wheel right where you can reach it while you’re riding. And because it doesn’t hang from the bars, the bag doesn’t impede the placement of your hands near the stem. Brilliant, intuitive design, obviously honed over years of practical experience, these bags have pockets on the rider’s side, and a top flap that opens toward the rider with a map case built in. Good design is simply eternal. 

I’m currently riding it without a decaleur, the metal stabilizer typically mounted to the stem or head set with these types of bags. It seems pretty stable, but the bag only just fits between my extremely narrow handlebars (the bike, an ’86 Fuji came with 40cm Nitto bars, typical of the era) and stabilized only by the cords attached to the d-rings on the sides, the bag kind of crowds my thumbs when I round corners.  I’m still fiddling with it and will write a follow-up report as I either figure it out or get exasperated by it. 

Related reading:

Sunday, September 8, 2024

Bike Check: 2022 Crust Cantilever Lightning Bolt

As you may know, I bought a Crust Lightning Bolt with cantilever brakes in the winter of 2022. The much-vaunted CantiBolt! It took me a year or so to assemble all the parts, prep the frame and ultimately build up the bike. You can read about it here, should you be so inclined. Now, after a year and a couple of thousand miles riding it, I thought I'd do a retrospective review.

Crust Canti-Bolt

Below, for reference, is the current build list. It's essentially the same as the original build, though some details have changed. Stepping out the door for yesterday's ride, the bike weighed 31.2 pounds, including two full 21 oz. Camelbak Ice water bottles, phone, wallet, snacks, etc. I've even got a modest cable lock in the bag. That's summer time ready-to-ride weight. Winter would weigh more because more clothes, but I tend to ride my Cycles Toussaint in the winter, since it's fendered and has the larger Acorn Boxy Rando bag affixed with a decaleur. 

Build List

The drivetrain definitely seemed like a risky "mullet" proposition, mixing the Velo Orange sub-compact crankset (road) with the MicroSHIFT ultra-low-geared rear derailleur (MTB). I had to switch from the elegant Silver bar-end shifters I was planning to use for the MicroSHIFT MTB barcons, which have more cable pull. I am happy to report that the system works swimmingly. With friction shifting, all things are possible. I can't imagine a better shifting, more versatile system. With a low gear of 30t (front) x 42t (rear), the Cantibolt is a climbing beast. Though I've fantasized about swapping to the Velo Orange "Drillium" crankset, featuring a 48t x 34t, I find that I'm not so limited by the 46 tooth top gear that I really need it. I think I'd rather have the low 30 tooth gear - I'm not getting any younger.

Mullet drive train to conquer any climb

Brakes, handlebars, shifters, etc., haven't changed since I built up the bike, but I've added the front bag and the frame pump.The bag is a cheap(ish) Korean Zimbale brand bag I bought from Amazon. Though I liked the design with its low profile, I disliked its sticky zipper and poorly laid out leather/Velcro rack attachment points. I actually returned it and got my money back... twice. But it seems to be one of those notorious products the company doesn't want back. Or they went out of business right in the middle of my transaction. Not sure. I returned it twice and it came back to me both times. Ultimately I figured it was meant for me. And it looks pretty good on the bike, don't you think?

Zimbale front rack bag.

I modified the attachment straps so they worked with my rack, and gave the zipper a good lubing. It's still not my favorite bag, but it does the job, so I'll keep it on the bike until something better comes along, or I finally get around to installing the decaleur I have sitting in the parts bin, so I can use my Acorn bag. Combined with the now discontinued Brooks Isle of Wight saddle bag, in which I keep extra tubes, tools, etc., I can carry a lot of stuff without having a gigantic bag. I've got plenty of room for everything I need.

Selle Italia "Man" saddle, Brooks saddle bag, Silca pump and Avid Shorty brakes.

COMPARE & CONTRAST

It is interesting to note the differences between riding a 700c x 25mm racing bike, and a traditional steel 650b x 42mm rando rig, but it's a bit of a false equivalency. The two styles are optimized for different objectives; pure speed for the racing bike; comfort, versatility and efficiency for the randonneuse. In a way, they represent a natural progression for many a seasoned rider as we move from our thrill-seeking youth to a more mature, sustainable riding style as we age. At least that's how it has been for me. I'm 61 years old - my 53/39 years are behind me.

The only fair comparison I can make is between the Crust CantiBolt and the Vélo Routier, as they are both low trail, 650B bikes made from lightweight, TIG-welded steel and ride on similarly wide tires (42mm for the Lightning Bolt and 38mm for the VR). But the comparison kind of ends there, because to be a fair comparison, all the components on the two bikes should be matched, and they're not.

But I'm not gonna let that stop me!

The Vélo Routier was my first "rando" frame and the first bike I assembled more or less by myself. I bought it as a DIY kit, with all the parts chosen by Cycles Toussaint, though I ended up using a stem and handlebar combination from the parts bin which shortened the reach a bit. Still, the resultant stack and reach of the two bikes are very close. The Routier's total price came to about $1,350 (US) plus shipping, or just a bit more than the Crust's frameset alone. So, let's say it was the epitome of an "entry level" spec. A good way to get started, but I'd never do it that way today. Knowing what I now know, I'd choose individual parts, though of course I'd spend a heckuva lot more money to do so.

Cycles Toussaint Vélo Routier

Now that the Crust is completely dialed in, and having spent a bit of time with it, I can safely say that it is without a doubt the best bike I've ever owned, and probably the best bike I've ever ridden. That list includes a 2002 Trek 2000, an aluminum "racing style" bike with 105 components, a 2011 Trek Madone (Ultegra components), an '86 Fuji Allegro seven-speed, and a Cycles Toussaint Vélo Routier version 2. I also spent a week riding across Italy on a Van Nicholas titanium touring bike once upon a time. But the main comparison is to my other rando bike, the Vélo Routier, on which I have around 10,000 miles at this point.

Everything about the Lightning Bolt seems marginally, and in some ways vastly better than any of these bikes. All the lessons learned from building the Vélo Routier were applied to the build of the Crust, and better parts were individually chosen rather than bought as an entry-level set. I can't help but think the better components account for a sizeable share of the different qualities of the two bikes. But can a better headset or bottom bracket really make that much difference? Or is the Lightning Bolt better than the Vélo Routier because of better design, including better geometry, steel, etc. I'm not about to spend the money to match the bikes' components, but I'll engage in a bit speculation...

REAL STEEL

I'll talk about differences in component quality and geometry in a minute, but first things first. Though they look pretty similar in most respects, the primary difference between the construction of the two bikes is the steel. I'm no metallurgist, but here's what I know (which is to say, have found on the internet). The Vélo Routier is made from oversize (OS) .8/.5/.8 4130 chromoly. That's thin-walled by most standards, as I understand it, similar to Reynolds 531C. The Lightning Bolt is made from standard diameter .7/.4/.7 heat-treated chromoly steel. In bicycle terms that's "extra-thin-walled, traditional-diameter tubing. More or less the same spec as the René Herse Kaisei Superlight tubeset or Reynolds 753. The Lightning Bolt's lore has it that Matt Whitehead, Crust's founder, had to sign a waver indemnifying the manufacturer (MaxWay?) from liability for owners doing inappropriate things with this bike. Hence the rider weight limit of 100kg / 220 lbs and the warnings not to "go all Evel Knievel thinking you're Missy Giove bombing this thing down some single track. It's not designed for that." 

So, the Crust's tubes are thinner in both diameter and wall thickness than those of the Cycles Toussaint. This doesn't seem to impact the final "ride-ready" bikes' weight much (they end up being within about 16 ounces of each other). But it may contribute significantly to differences in the bikes' "feel". I think. Again, that's based more on what I've read, mostly in Bicycle Quarterly, than anything I can prove. 

Is it simply thinner steel that makes the Lightning Bolt feel so much better than my other bikes? Not exactly. The steel may be a large part of the reason the bike is more comfortable than the Vélo Routier, but there are obviously other factors at play. Here's a quick list of the general impressions of the two bikes' handling with my guesses as to possible causes.

STEERING

The Vélo Routier always felt a bit unsettled. It requires constant attention from the pilot, lest it wanders off course. The Lightning Bolt, on the other hand, is much steadier, requiring only light steering inputs, and holds its line quite well. Not quite the "on rails" feeling of my higher trail racing bikes, but definitely striking that elusive balance between responsive and predictable. In short, the Crust's handling is confidence-inspiring, while the Vélo Routier's is a bit twitchy. But is that because of the relatively minor geometric differences, the steel used for the fork, or is it to do with component choices? The stem in the VR's DIY kit was at least 20mm longer than the 70mm Nitto I actually used. The handlebar also had a longer reach, and was wider. The DIY kit came with a needle bearing headset, usually spec'd to dampen low trail bikes' tendency to shimmy at speed. Were those choices made by Cycles Toussaint to compensate for the frameset's inherently skittish tendencies?

Note that the chart below comparing the two bikes displays an anomaly. Cycles Toussaint claims the Vélo Routier's trail as 30mm. BikeInsights.com lists it as a "calculated" 18.8mm. Big difference. I don't know how to sort out the discrepancy, but if it is indeed 18mm, well there you go - that's just too low, and waaaayyy lower than the Crust's 40mm. Could be it. Even if we give the designers the benefit of the doubt, there's a 10mm difference between the two. The Routier's 30mm is considered very low, and the Crust's 40.2mm fits in the high side of the conventional definition of "low" trail.

Bikeinsights.com comparison of the two bikes
Is the difference in trail the reason for the two bikes substantial disparity in steering? Everything else, i.e., shorter wheelbase, shorter chainstay, shorter stem, higher bottom bracket, would argue that the Lightning Bolt should be the twitchier of the two, but that's not the case. So, I'll assume the difference in trail is the primary element that accounts for the disparate character of the bikes' handling. One day I'll swap out the NECO headset on the Vélo Routier and see if that makes a difference. I also plan to move the Routier's rear wheel to the absolute longest chainstay length allowed by the semi-horizontal dropout. Maybe that'll help.

Also worth reiterating is that the bikes have different tire sizes. Not sure how much impact this has on steering, but as tire size affects trail, it has to be considered a factor. The Vélo Routier runs on ultralight 38mm Compass/Re Loup-Loup Pass tires and the Lightning Bolt sports 42mm Pacenti Pari-motos.

ACCELERATION

The Crust wins this category hands-down. Input at the pedals sends the bike forward with very little resistance, where the Vélo Routier takes a few pedal revolutions to wind up. The chainring gearing is the same (46/30), so that's not it. The cassettes have different low gears, but I'm rarely starting from the bottom, so I doubt that's it. Is it the cheap bottom bracket on the VR? I did use a high quality IRD BB when spec'ing the Crust, so... Heavier wheels from the Routier's DIY package? Yes, but I've used the same set of wheels on both bikes and there is still a very noticeable difference in the bikes' responsiveness. Is the springiness of the thinner steel responsible for the magical transfer of energy from potential to kinetic? Whatever the reason, the Crust just feels lighter, spins up faster, and gets closer to what Jan Heine might describe as planing.

BRAKING TOO (cantilever boogaloo)

Direct-mount center-pull brakes are the best rim brakes ever made. Right? And cantilever brakes are a horrible, squealing anachronism that should immediately be replaced with V-brakes. Right? Well, the Avid Shorty Ultimate canti's I put on the Crust are just magnificent. These cantilever brakes work every bit as well as any rim brakes I've used. They're light, they're easy to mount and fine tune, they use "regular" road brake pads, and they're black!

Avid Shorty Ultimate cantilever brakes
The direct mounted center-pull Dia Compe 750 brakes that came with the Cycles Toussaint work fine, but not as well as the Shortys. I should probably figure out how to install the vintage Mafac Racer brakes I have in the parts bin on the VR, but I'm lazy, so I live with good enough.

All of which is to say, the cantilever brakes on the Crust are every bit as good as or better than the center-pulls on the VR, as well as the Ultegras and 105 dual-pivot side-pulls that came on both of my racing bikes. I'm sure many would ask, why fuck with obsolete technology when a vastly better technology exists, i.e., disc brakes? Answers: 

  • Ride quality: rim brakes allow a flexy fork which imparts a sublime ride, likely a large part of what makes this bike better than the VR. As Matt notes in the Lightning Bolt's product description, "This frame is designed to flex and feel like you're actually floating millimeters above the road on top of Dynamic clouds." Too right.
  • Mechanical simplicity and easy of maintenance: disc brakes just seem more complicated and difficult to maintain. My riding fantasies are mostly built around long rides in remote places. I want to be able to fix just about anything that goes wrong on the bike, and rim brakes are way easier to adjust. Plus, my bikes will never stop working because they spring a leak or because a battery dies.  

 "But disk brakes are better, newer, whatever..." Okay, sure, fine, whatever. As the Bike Farmer says, my rim brakes are "good enough for who it's for." Rim brakes were good enough for Fausto Coppi and Eddy Mercks; they're good enough for me. And the Avid Shorty Ultimate brakes are as good or better than I've ever owned. So there.

CONCLUSION 

So where does this leave us? Well, dammit, I've become spoiled having a bike that is so much more pleasant to ride. I love my Cycles Toussaint Vélo Routier. It is a very special bike, being the first production bike I have ever seen with bosses for direct-mounting center-pull brakes, usually available only on bespoke frames. But I find that ever since the Crust Lightning Bolt became rideable, that's the bike I grab when headed out the door. These days I only go to the VR when there's a problem with the Crust, or when I need the fenders. But while riding it, I now find myself pining for the ride quality of the Lightning Bolt. Kinda sucks. Like trying fine wine or good craft beer. Once you know, you can't go back.

Reflective triangle? Check!














Now I find myself asking if I'll ever really want to ride a bike that isn't the Lightning Bolt. I'll always hang onto my 90's Specialized Crossroads Cruz, for around town and as a back-country hunting bike. But unless the Crust is down for maintenance, I can't see riding the Cycles Toussaint, the 00's Trek 2000 or the Fuji much anymore. I'm inclined to let those bikes go, to clear space and maybe pass them along to someone who would use and value them. 

And now that Crust is having a very unusual sale on the remaining CantiBolts in their inventory (under 1,000 freedom tickets for the best frameset I've ever ridden?!), I'm struck by the terror that once the current crop is sold, there will never be such a magnificent production bike available. While that would constitute a travesty to me, I'm pretty sure the rest of the world would hardly notice, and Crust would get along just fine selling Bomboras and Evasions.

Crap. It's altogether possible there will be another Lightning Bolt in my stable before too long. This time in Light Sea Green with cartoony doodle graphics and yet another silly typeface. Ugh...

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Swords to plowshares

1986 Fuji Allegro
I suppose I knew it at the time. I'm sure my wife saw it coming. When I bought the Craigslist bike, what I was really doing was buying the little black dress, the foundation upon which I would construct some sort of fantasy bike. It took almost no time for the accessories to cost more than the bike itself. The fenders, rack, new pedals and Zefal pump were again as much as the original sale price. And if that wasn't enough, the handlebar bag added another bike's worth of investment. Oy, it's always the accessories that kill you, isn't it?

The latest bangles to adorn the Allegro come in the form of a new set of panniers. Well, new isn't technically accurate, so let's say newly acquired. I've been using the bike both as a grocery store bike and more recently as a commuter. I have a couple of wire baskets for groceries, but wanted something a little more enclosed for the back-and-forth to work. I already have my beloved Acorn Rando Handlebar Bag mounted more or less permanently on the bike's front rack, so I wanted something that would at least complement it aesthetically.

I clicked around the usual sources, but didn't find much that hit my aesthetic/financial sweet spot. Oh sure, Rivendell's Sackville Toursacks are gorgeous, but they're so nice I don't think I'd want to put my dirty underwear in 'em. And they'd likely be too big for what I want anyway (not to mention they're a bit on the pricey side). VeloOrange sells what look like nice canvas panniers by Minnehaha, but the black doesn't appeal to me and I'm kind of a fan of boxier, more structured stuff. Then I ran across a review on Lovely Bicycle! of some unconventional panniers made from old canvas Swiss military ammunition boxes. Not the Victorinox/Wenger "Swiss Army" stuff you buy at the mall. Real Swiss military surplus from the 60's, buried for decades in some bunker just waiting for the next world war to break out. Eventually the military has to swap out the old materiel for more modern stuff, (spoiler alert!) if only to keep its contractors in business, and... And they're the ones I went with. They arrived yesterday.

OYB Retro Pannier -- Modified Vintage Swiss Army!
Form follows function in the 1964 Swiss Ammunition Box Pannier by Out Your Backdoor. Made from surplus ammunition/utility bags manufactured for the Swiss military, these panniers have clearly had a life before the bike. They have what Grant terms, beausage. The beauty that comes from use. They are definitely small bags - 8.5" tall, 4" deep, 11.25" wide. But I don't need much space - these are not for long distance touring - I just need to get my iPad, lunch and work clothes back and forth. So these should do just fine. And they look absolutely great.

Out Your Back Door buys these bags and rivets hooks to them so they'll hang from a rack along with one of their embossed leather logos. Of course you could do it all yourself (I did, in fact, drop by my local surplus store to see if I could find anything remotely like this, but they had nothing akin to these lovely Swiss things), but OYB really has the process down and for a price you'd be hard pressed to match, even if you did all the work yourself. Like many folks on the interweb who have commented on these, I'd prefer that OYB not add their branding to the bags, but it's tastefully done and I'm sure it'll blend in with the other leather after I apply a little oil.

Jury rigged pannier retention system
OYB offers a few additional enhancements such as shoulder straps and blinky light attackments and personalized embossing. I opted for the shoulder straps and blinky attachments. The blinky attachments are on only one side, which means that technically speaking, there is a correct left and right pannier. Both add-ons seem to be executed very professionally and will probably be around long after I have expired. The bungee cords in the retention system are too short to attache anywhere on my Avenir Pletscher style rack so I've had to jury rig it with a couple of supplemental bungee cords wrapping around my fender support. I'll have to experiment to see if I can find a more elegant solution, but for now it seems to provide enough downward force to keep the rather small clips from bouncing off the rack.  

One of the delightful things about this type of re-purposed item is the fact that there is history built right in. Not my history, but someone's history. Each leather buckle on my set has the following embossment:

H. REINECKE
BECKENRIED NW    
64

It's a kind of signature or craftman's mark. Too appropriate for such Schweizer heimatwerk. Beckenried is a tiny municipality in the Swiss canton of Nidwalden, on Lake Lucerne, presumably the location of the the company called Herbert Reinecke, Lederwarenfabrik which made the bags (based on a brief mention of the firm here which suggests that the firm made saddles for Die Militär-Radfahrer-Truppe, the Swiss bicycle corps). It's a small thing, but it's sort of nice that both bags seem to come from the same workshop in the same year. So thanks to the Swiss military for having such lovely bags made. Thanks to them for keeping them around and in such great condition for fifty years. And thanks to Jeff Potter from Out Your Backdoor for making it easy to put them on my bike.