Before the Internet became the most important medium for communication, fans of classic bikes communicated by phone, or in person at the occasional “Classic Bike Show” organized somewhere. Through word-of-mouth, I learned that Gabe Konrad in Michigan was publishing a little “zine” about classic bikes called Aeoleus Butterfly. I sent him a check, and received a delightful photocopied newsletter. On 16 pages, it featured articles reprinted from old magazines, and other articles written by fellow collectors of old bicycles. (The name of the magazine came from a turn-of-the-century bicycle pedal.)

For my children’s generation, it is hard to envision the excitement when the folded zine arrived in my mailbox every other month. There was no internet where one could find images of classic bikes. There were no blogs and forums where one could exchange thoughts and ideas with like-minded cyclists. Thus, I devoured the pages of the Butterfly, and learned more about all the things that I had seen, like Zeus components, but knew little about.

By today’s standards, the articles were a bit amateurish – based old catalogues and anecdotes rather than first-hand information – but back then, it was all we had, and it was a great foundation for further research.

In 1998, Gabe decided to start a “real” magazine called On The Wheel. It was a promising start, but sadly it never saw the growth it needed to survive. After two years, Gabe refunded unused portions of all subscriptions, and the magazine folded. Gabe then published two books with similar articles, Bikelore and Bikelore 2.

When I wrote articles for Gabe about racing in the spirit of the Touriste-Routiers, about touring in Venezuela, about randonneuring in Washington and about old bikes, I learned a lot from Gabe’s editing comments. When another contributor’s “interview” with Jack Taylor in On The Wheel turned out to be a complete fabrication (the contributor was apparently trying to swindle his way into money by taking orders for these bikes), I realized that proper references are essential for historic articles.

Before I started Bicycle Quarterly, I called Gabe one more time. He offered advice freely: “Never get behind in your publishing schedule!” was the most emphatic one. I am grateful for being able to learn from his experience. He is one of the pioneers who paved the path for Bicycle Quarterly’s success. Perhaps he came too early, before there was widespread appreciation for cycling off the beaten path.

If you want to enjoy Gabe’s best publications, Chuck Schmidt of Velo-Retro offers xeroxed reprints of the Aeoleus Butterfly.

Looking at the weather forecast, we realized that the next day had the potential to be a perfect day. So we meet at seven. When the sun rises above Lake Washington, we already are well on our way out of town.

After a stop in Snohomish at a café to warm up (and also the last opportunity to enjoy a tasty croissant), we head into the hills on empty roads. Above, Ryan is on our favorite descent that swoops into an enchanting valley.

The frost enhances the beauty of the landscape. Thanks to the short climbs at regular intervals, we do not get cold.

On one shady uphill, a spring runs across the road. The water has frozen overnight, but we know to expect this, so it doesn’t pose any problems. (Going south on this stretch means that the shaded north-facing slopes are uphills, not downhills.)

We soon reach Sultan. From here, most cyclists take the busy Highway 2 toward Stevens Pass. It’s not much fun, but today we only will spend a total of 6 miles (out of 140 total) on busy roads. (And usually, there is a shoulder.)

Instead of clinging to the highway, we have mapped out an alternative route, which takes in backroads and even a levee along the Skykomish River.

The levee ends in a railyard in Gold Bar, but from there, it’s only a short hike back to the road.

Gold Bar is the opportunity for another stop and refreshment. Jan’s excitement about being able to buy Coca-Cola imported from Mexico – in a real glass bottle and made with real sugar – shows that he is a “retro-grouch” at heart. Or is it just that he doesn’t like high-fructose corn syrup?

From Gold Bar, more backroads lead us to Index. Every time I approach this “wall,” the geologist in me wonders whether it is formed by a bedrock ridge, or whether it is a moraine left behind by the Cordilleran Ice Sheet advancing up the valley 15,000 years ago. The cyclist in me takes the opportunity to get out of the saddle to stretch my legs as I climb over it.

Reiter Road still is closed to motorized traffic, and the winter storms have deposited a few leaves and branches on the blacktop.

Having this beautiful road all to ourselves borders on magic.

Finally, we reach Index. Jan eats the croissant he has carried in his handelbar bag since our stop in Snohomish. Index is a lovely spot that is bypassed by the highway and has seen better days. From here, more backroads (and a few miles on the highway) can take you to Stevens Pass and then onward to Eastern Washington, but today, Index is our turn-around point.

On the way home, we get one last look at the majestic Cascade Mountains as we head back to Monroe and its Taco Truck for a very late lunch.

The sun is setting on Mount Baker, more than a hundred miles to the north, on this short winter day. While Jan takes this photo, Ryan spots a coyote in the field. From here, it is just two hours, mostly on the Burke-Gilman Trail, until we are home. As we part our ways, we agree that it has been a day well spent!

Few bicycle headlights are actually waterproof. The Planet Bike headlight in our test wicked water past the headlight lens, and the standlight function stopped working. Busch & Müller’s lights are open at the bottom, so moisture can drain out. This means that you should not mount them in an area where they can be exposed to tire spray.

Schmidt’s Edelux headlights were designed to be waterproof, and for most customers, this claim has held true. In our group of friends, we have used Edelux lights in a Flèche that saw pouring rain for 20 hours straight. In PBP, I rode through 10 hours of thunderstorms with my lights on. None of us had problems with water getting into our lights.

However, a couple of customers report that water is getting into their lights, sometimes repeatedly, so we asked Andreas Oehler of Schmidt Maschinenbau about this. Here is his response:

“We had a few issues of Edelux being not 100% watertight with earlier production models. The water in these cases found its way inside through the internal sealing of the rear light connector. Current-production Edelux have an improved seal there.

“The most problematic situation is a headlamp mounted directly in the water spray from the front tire without a classic mudguard and without the plug of a rear lamp cable inserted. If this kind of use is planned with an older Edelux, we recommend to cover the rear light connector hole with a little piece of Duct tape. If a rear lamp connector is used, it should be isolated with heat shrink tubing and mounted with some bearing grease.

“Users should open the headlamp only as a last resort, because the front glass or the seal around it might get damaged. Noticeable amounts of water inside are a defect that is covered by our 5-year warranty.”

Here are some hints to get the most out of your Edelux (or other light):

• Mount it in a protected location.
• Underneath a handlebar bag is ideal, as it also is out of the spray being blown back from the tire at high speed.
• If you mount your light next to the wheel, use fenders with rolled edges, so no spray exits at the sides. (One case of multiple Edelux failures was on a bike with flat wooden fenders.)
• If you don’t use the taillight connector, you can cover it with a piece of tape. Or put a dab of grease into the recess.
• If you use the taillight connector, use heat shrink tubing on the wire, not just to insulate it against the light housing, but also to fill the recess. Then add a little grease to make sure no water pools in the recess.
• If your light needs to dry out on a tour (where sending it back under warranty is not an option), you can unscrew the lens. Before you do this, mark the top, so you don’t overtighten the lens retaining ring when you reassemble it. Make sure the seals and their mating surfaces do not get contaminated. However, disassembly is only a last resort, and should not be necessary.

For most users, the Edelux has been working flawlessly for many miles. Use the above guidelines to reduce the (already very small) risk of your Edelux suddenly going dark during a ride.

The new Bicycle Quarterly Press web site is up and running. We have a new design, simpler navigation, and clearer organization. The site better explains what Bicycle Quarterly is all about: Inspirational rides (above) and technical articles that explain how bikes work…

… as well as exciting articles about cycling history.

We’ve enhanced favorite pages, including all the bikes we have tested in Bicycle Quarterly:

The site provides a clear overview of the cycling books we carry:

More than a dozen favorite articles are available in pdf format on the web site, including Jada Van Vliet’s classic about “Touring in India” on a locally-made 3-speed, a report from the “Raid Pyrénéen” and our test of the Calfee “Adventure” carbon-fiber bike for wide tires.

To make all this content more easily accessible, we made the navigation as simple as possible. There is even a shortcut for subscribing or renewing with just a few clicks of your mouse.

Start exploring the new site by clicking here.

I have ridden fixed-gears and single-speed bicycles, but for my own bikes, I am wedded to multiple gears. Part of that is my love of the mountains with their long and steep climbs, and part of it is my allegiance to Vélocio, who fought tooth and nail to get multi-speed bicycles accepted in the face of the opposition from the big bike companies and the racers sponsored by them.

On a recent ride with my friend Hahn, I had another opportunity to ride with a single gear. As we left Snohomish, a strand of my derailleur cable poked my finger as I shifted gears. I remarked: “I’ll need to replace the derailleur cable in the next three or four months, before the other strands break as well.” Unfortunately, it did not take that long. A few miles down the road, luckily after we had climbed the steep rollers on Dubuque Road, my derailleur cable broke as I shifted gears. The derailleur’s return spring automatically shifted the chain to the smallest freewheel cog.

I stopped and assessed the situation: I didn’t have any tools in my handlebar bag, so I just wrapped the dangling shifter cable around the down tube.

I shifted to the small chainring, and we continued the ride. My gear now was 32-13, or about 66 gear inches. In fact, that is very similar to the 48-19 that I ride most of the time. The chain rubbed slightly on the large chainring at times due to the extreme chainline, but not enough to be a problem.

As we continued our ride, I realized that I don’t shift very often anyhow. There were a few hills where I would have liked a smaller gear, but instead, I powered up them. On steeper hills, I had to rise out of the saddle, which I usually avoid except for short stretches.

Overall, riding my bike as a single-speed was a pleasant experience that did not detract from the ride. Afterward, I was not any more tired than usual, only the insides of my thumbs hurt a bit from riding out of the saddle so much. And during my next ride, my occasional knee problems flared up, so perhaps I should stick with multi-geared bikes. Most of all, I have great admiration for riders who complete hilly long-distance events like PBP on a single speed or even a fixed gear.

When I went to replace the broken cable, I realized that my shift lever – which I had installed half a year ago to replace the worn-out 37 year-old original – had a small ridge from the parting line of the forging die. The cable had been bending over that ridge,which is why it broke after just a few months. I smoothed the groove for the shifter cable with a small file before installing a new cable.

While I was filing, I thought about how breaking a derailleur cable is merely inconvenient, whereas having your brakes malfunction can be dangerous. I inspect the components of my bike’s braking system much more frequently than my derailleurs: levers, cables, housing, brakes, pads and not to forget, the rims. I was inspired to write my next “Mechanical Advantage” column for Adventure Cyclist magazine on inspecting your brake system to ensure that it works reliably.

Since we have published a post about “The Dangers of Narrow Tires,” it is only fair that we look at the other side of the coin. What are the disadvantages (or even dangers?) of wider tires? I can think of a few:

- Weight: A wider tire and a wider tube always will be heavier than a narrow tire. The scale above shows the difference. On the left is a Grand Bois “Hetre” 650B x 42 mm tire. It weighs 410 g. On the right, a Grand Bois “Col de la Madeleine” 700C x 23 mm tire weighs just 220 g.

If you take the difference (190 g), add the extra weight of the larger tube (37 g) and multiply by 2, you get a weight difference of 454 g, or almost exactly a pound. (You probably also will use a wider rim, but the smaller diameter of the 650B wheel actually makes for a slightly lighter wheel.)

A full pound sounds like a lot, but it is less than a waterbottle. Does adding a second water bottle make your bike noticeably slower?

What about the importance of rotating weight? Thanks to the smaller wheel diameter of a 650B wheel, the Hetre’s rotational inertia is actually the same as that of a 700C x 28 mm wheel/tire. So the difference there is negligible.

- Shimmy: Shimmy is a problem with many causes and solutions. One factor among many are wide and supple tires: They can exacerbate shimmy on some bikes.

However, there are many bikes with wide tires that do not shimmy. And some bikes with narrow and medium-width tires shimmy (see video above, the bike shimmied even without my slapping my thighs). Still, it’s harder to make a bike with wide tires that doesn’t shimmy.

- Appearance: Some bikes just look wrong with wide tires. The iconic 1980s Cinelli Supercorsa (below) would not look right with 42 mm-wide tires. Riding bikes is not just about performance, but also aesthetics, and many riders prefer the slim appearance of a classic racing bike. (Photo: speedbicycles.ch)

And if you show up to a group ride with wide tires, you’ll have many people give you their well-meaning advice: “You need narrow tires if you want to go fast.” If you’d rather fit in, a wide-tired bike may not be for you.

- Few performance bikes are designed for wide tires. The image above shows the “Performance Bike” categories from a big manufacturer. You have a choice between more than ten types of performance bikes, but all have narrow tires.

Unless you can afford a custom frame, your choices for wide-tire road bikes mostly are limited to touring, commuting and hybrid bikes with overbuilt frames that may not be ideal for spirited riding.

- Tire choice. Narrow high-performance tires are available at every good bicycle shop. They are made by numerous manufacturers. Wide high-performance tires can be harder to find.

All those disadvantages are real and worth considering. For us, the disadvantages of wider tires are outweighed by the advantages:

• Higher speed on rough surfaces, equal speed on smooth surfaces.
• Fewer flats because wider tires run at lower pressures.
• Longer wear because the wear is distributed over a larger contact patch.
• Greater safety as tracks, cracks and holes no longer pose a serious risk.
• Greater comfort and enjoyment, especially when riding on poorly surfaced backroads.

Just putting wide “touring” tires on your bike won’t transform it into a capable “Allroad” machine. A few factors are key to a nimble, fast bike with wide tires:

• Supple tires: Most wide tires on the market are utility tires. Their sidewalls are not supple, and they lack both speed and comfort.
• 650B wheels: Reducing the wheel size retains the nimble handling of a good racing bike. With very wide 700C wheels, a bike becomes too stable to offer the sensations of a good performance bike.
• Needle-bearing headset: It acts like a steering damper and greatly reduces the risk that your bike will suffer from shimmy.
• Performance frame: The frame and its flex characteristics affect how the bike feels. To get the performance and feel of a racing bike, you need a frame with similar flex characteristics, and not a hybrid or touring bike.
• Optimized geometry: Wide tires affect a bike’s steering. The geometry should be adjusted to get a surefooted, yet nimble bike.

You can obtain many of the advantages of wide tires simply by putting the widest tires that fit on your existing bike. My old Alex Singer was designed for 25 mm-wide tires, but I managed to fit 32 mm tires with adequate clearances. (I had to replace the fenders with a wider model.)

32 mm is a good compromise, but not as wide as I would like. My new bike with its 42 mm-wide tires (above) has shown me that the advantages of wide tires are best enjoyed with a new bike designed specifically for the tires you want to use. I now regret not having made the switch sooner.

What are your thoughts about tire width? Which tires do you ride now, and which tires will your next bike use?

When I started researching the history of René Herse more than a decade ago, I never thought I would end up buying the company!

During my research, I talked to riders on Herse’s team and people who had known René Herse himself. I rode surviving examples of his bikes, and even entered Paris-Brest-Paris on a 1946 René Herse tandem.

The stories these riders and builders told me fascinated and inspired me. As I visited Herse’s riders and talked to them on the phone, wonderful friendships developed over the years.

One of these friendships was with Lyli Herse, René’s daughter, and her husband Jean Desbois. Monsieur Desbois was one of the first employees René Herse hired in 1940. He stayed with Herse for close to 15 years, and returned in 1975. He was an invaluable source of information about the company’s history and the techniques employed by Herse to make his amazing bicycles.

During one of my visits, Lyli wistfully told me that she was saddened by the fact that she did not have children, and that the Herse name would disappear with her. She told me: “After we closed the shop, somebody offered to make René Herse frames under license, but my mother was against it. I now wish we had explored that possibility.”

At the same time, my friend Mike Kone was talking about making constructeur bikes. He shared my appreciation of René Herse’s craft, and so I approached him to see whether he might be interested in resurrecting the René Herse name, which had been dormant for almost 20 years. The result of this was that Mike bought the name and remaining assets from Lyli Herse and Jean Desbois, and started to offer modern René Herse frames again.

I acted as a liaison and translator between Lyli/Jean Desbois and Mike. I shared my research into what made these bikes special and worked with Mike to help ensure the new bikes would be worthy of the René Herse name. When Lyli Herse saw my new René Herse at PBP last year, tears were in her eyes as she looked over the lugs, the hand-lettered name on the down tube and the many custom parts that make these bikes special. It meant a lot to her to see the work of her father, her husband and herself carried on. And her approval of the new bike meant just as much to Mike and me.

René Herse was more than just a framebuilder. He actually started as a component maker of revolutionary lightweight components. Through my research into the history and technology of bicycles, I had become involved in making the parts that had worked so well in the past. The result was a new company, Compass Bicycles, which is dedicated to making components that I feel should be available, but aren’t.

To me, the René Herse cranks are the best crank design of all time, so it was natural to think about making an updated version. To make a long story short, Compass Bicycles recently purchased the René Herse name and assets from Mike Kone’s company, Boulder Bicycles. Boulder Bicycles now licenses the name René Herse Bicycles from us, so they will continue to offer René Herse constructeur bicycles as before. And we are free to make updated versions of René Herse’s wonderful components. We also plan to offer replicas of the original René Herse components for restorations of classic René Herse bicycles.

When I started researching René Herse more than a decade ago, I never would have thought that we would see new René Herse bikes made, that his components would be available again, and that we’d eventually own the company. I am glad it turned out that way.

For me, November and most of December are rest months. That doesn’t mean that I don’t ride my bike – I use my bike for daily transportation – but there isn’t any “training” on the bike. I worked on my core fitness and went for a few short runs. Taking time off the bike allows my body to recharge, so it can build its fitness again to a peak during the season. Trying to carry that fitness through the winter may result in fatigue. There is a risk of getting slower and slower, and to have one’s riding go “stale.”

Now that the new year has started, it is time to ride again. Our little band of friends has been eager to get back on the road, even though the famous rain re-descended on Seattle just in time for the start of our rides. With the right equipment and the right attitude, every ride can be fun.

Ten days ago, we rode the first half of the Seattle International Randonneurs “Mountain 100 km” course, minus most of the mountains. It is hard to believe that just 5 months ago, we flew along these roads at speed, as we fine-tuned our shape for PBP. Not anymore. Our pace was slow, and on the hills, we took it easy. Riding on backroads allowed us to chat and enjoy each others’ company while working on our base fitness.

We had intended to bypass Tiger Mountain, but while I took a photo, my friends were so engrossed in conversation that they continued on the “usual” route. So we went up Tiger. It’s January, so there was none of the impromptu competition that usually happens on this long and gradual hill.

Even in January, we could not resist the temptation to let the bikes roll on the downhill. We found that the first corner was a bit slipperier than we thought – we were closer to the limit than we wanted to be.

After the ride, we had lunch. While our friend Steve was visiting from Portland, we took the opportunity to evaluate our PBP rides. We compared our times at various controls and average speeds in between. Where could we have been more efficient at controls? When did we slow down at night? The conclusions we drew will help us with future long rides.

The conversation became more animated when we recounted our individual experiences. PBP always is an epic ride, and we enjoyed reminiscing about last year’s particularly epic edition.

The conversation quickly moved to our plans for the coming season. January is the time to make grand plans for all the rides we would like to do. The SIR brevet series. A Flèche team ride. Perhaps another Cyclos Montagnards Challenge. A tour of the scenic gravel roads in the Cascades. The Cascade 1200. The cross-state S2S race from Seattle to Spokane. It’s a long list, and of course, we will have to pare it down as the season progresses. For now, it is fun to dream. Two rides are firmly on the calendar for most of us:

• Cascade 1200: This year, the Cascade 1200 will accommodate and encourage riders who plan to ride non-stop, like PBP, in addition to those who prefer to ride in stages from one “overnight” control to the next. The Cascade 1200 uses a wonderful route that circumnavigates the State of Washington with its amazing scenery. Crossing the mountains between the volcanoes of Mount St. Helens and Mt. Adams, you reach the mighty Columbia River at the southern border of the state. Then you cycle through the hills and deserts of central Washington all the way to the Canadian border and the lush Methow Valley, before crossing the Cascades again, and returning to the start via the dense forests of the Puget Lowland. It’s one of the most scenic and most challenging courses I have ridden.
• Fall 600 km brevet: The Seattle International Randonneurs Fall 600 km brevet climbs up Mount Rainier, Mount Saint Helens and then crosses the Cascade Range twice. Most of the course is on empty backroads with stunning scenery. This year, it will even include a gravel option for the last leg into Enumclaw for those who prefer to avoid the highway. We are organizing this event, and we look forward to it. If you like riding in the mountains, it may be worth a trip to Seattle.

What are your plans for 2012?

Inserting a handlebar into a classic stem requires a few simple tricks. Grand Bois stems are based on classic stems, and are not equipped with removable faceplates that can make installation easier.

Classic stems have a number of advantages that are worth the small hassle during installation:

• The clamp tightens around the handlebars on all sides with even pressure (like a hose clamp), whereas a stem with a removable faceplate puts stresses on the bars at the two gaps. These stresses increase the risk of handlebar failure.
• A classic stem can clamp the handlebars more tightly without crushing them. This eliminates the risk of the handlebars rotating as you hit a bump. With a removable faceplate, there is a thin line between not enough clamping force and deforming the handlebars.
• The larger bolts of a classic stem easily can support a decaleur.
• The removable faceplate’s extra bolts add weight. To keep the weight acceptable, many stems use smaller and shorter bolts, which can result in stripped threads.

Of course, many stems with removable faceplates have proven themselves in everyday use. Most are fine, but given a choice, I prefer the smarter design. If you install handlebars frequently, like a bike shop, you may prefer removable face plates. For the rest of us, we only replace our handlebars when we build up a new bike or if our handlebars get bent in a crash. Installing handlebars in a “classic” stem takes only a few minutes, if you know a few simple tricks:

Above you see the tools you need, in addition to the stem and handlebars: an M5 screw and nut, a thin coin (or other thin piece of metal), wrenches to tighten the screw and nut, and masking tape.

Insert the nut into the slot of the stem, then thread in the screw. Grand Bois stems use M6 bolts, but I used a smaller M5 nut and bolt, because the nut is thinner. (You can also file an M6 nut until it fits with a little room to spare.) Now flex the bolt gently so the stem slot opens enough to slide in the coin. (In North America, dimes are the thinnest coins. The coin will get scratched, so don’t use a collectible one.) Place the coin so it sits underneath the screw hole of the nut, not just the edge. Make sure the coin does not protrude into the handlebar “hole.”

Now turn the screw clockwise while holding the nut in place. As the screw emerges from the bottom of the nut, it pushes against the coin and opens the slot.

A well-designed steel stem is like a hose clamp: It is easy to open. (Some lugged steel stems have reinforcement ridges that stiffen the clamp. Not only does this make it difficult to open the stem, but it also means that the stem cannot conform to the shape of the handlebars as it clamps them.)

Don’t overdo this step, as you could crack the chrome-plating. You can always open it more during the handlebar installation.

You also could use a wedge (like a screw driver), but that is likely to get in the way when you install the handlebars, or fall out when you are in the middle of the installation.

Steel is harder than aluminum, and a steel stem easily scratches your aluminum handlebars. To prevent unsightly scratches where you won’t have handlebar tape, wrap the exposed portion next to the center bulge with masking tape. Masking tape does not stretch as well as handlebar tape, so start with a ring at the edge of the bulge.

Then wrap the masking tape at an angle, until it extends as far as needed.

Hold the stem over the bars in the position where it will be placed. These steps help ensure that you don’t install the handlebars upside down!

Now follow the handlebars so you arrive at the end with the stem in the correct orientation.

Insert the handlebars into the stem. Guide the stem around the bars. Keep the slot on the outside of the bend. That keeps the sharp edges of the slot away from the bars. If the stem quill interferes with the handlebar bends, back out the stem and rotate it before trying again.

Be careful not to force it. Deep scratches form stress risers that can lead to premature failure of your handlebars. If the clamp is too tight, open it further by turning the screw clockwise against the nut.

Once the handlebars are in place, remove the screw, nut and coin. Insert the  bolts and nuts that were supplied with the stem. Tighten them. Make sure your handlebars don’t move until you have tightened the bolts, otherwise, they can get scratched. Then remove the masking tape and install brake levers, cables, etc.

To remove the bars, use the same procedure in reverse.

As Seattle is receiving a dusting of snow, I received this wonderful photo of Bicycle Quarterly contributor Tim Bird (“A Day Out in the Yorkshire Dales”).