Is the beauty of a bicycle in the way it rides, or the way it looks?

When I built my first frames in England in the late 1950s, early 1960s, I was trying to build myself a better frame. A typical frame of that era had a very shallow, 71-degree seat angle and a long top tube. This did not suit my small stature of 5’ 6”. (167.64 cm.)

When making a maximum effort, I found myself sliding forward and consequently sitting on the narrow nose of the saddle. The result was it was extremely uncomfortable and had the effect of the saddle being too low.

The answer seemed obvious to me, if this was the natural position my body wanted to adopt, put the saddle where it needed to be to accommodate it. I also looked at the way the bike handled at speed, there was a tendency to wobble on fast descents. Also, the bike tended to feel sluggish when getting out of the saddle sprint, or to climb.

Over the next 10 or 15 years I built several different frames with varying angles, and each frame had extra front forks of various rakes, (Offset.) Some of these experiments improved the bike’s performance, and others made things worse. It was a long, slow learning process.

By the early 1970s I had pretty much got my own frame geometry figured out. But now I was being asked to build frames for other local cyclists. By now the trend in Italy and in England was the build road frames with 75 or even 76-degree head angles. I went against this trend as I had experimented with these angles years before and found it did not work too well. The handling was skittish or squirrely.

73-degree head had been established as the ideal head angle as far back as the 1930s, and it still worked. However, the old idea was to have a very long fork off-set, and zero trail. This is what lead to the speed wobbles of those old bikes. I had found that I ¼ inches (32 mm.) fork rake worked better and finally settled at 1 3/8 inches. (35 mm.)

With feedback from other riders, I found that a 73-seat angle worked fine for the taller riders, but I would gradually steepen the seat angle as the frame got smaller. The top tube was lengthened as the frame got taller, but at a lesser amount than the seat tube. This was offset by a longer handlebar stem on the larger frames. The idea was to always have the front part of the handlebars directly over the front hub. This meant the handling was consistent throughout the range of sizes.

Having spent many years designing and building a better bike, it became my main selling point.

Here was a frame that would fit better and handle better. (See the advert (Left.) from the British Cycling Magazine from 1975.)

Strangely, I have seen few framebuilders or manufacturers advertising their product on the premise that it rides and handles better than their competitors.

I feel proof that my frame design is valid, is the fact that I still have a following 28 years after I built my last frame. Many owners are original owners and will not part with their bike. I regularly receive emails from owners saying their FUSO or other bike I built is their favorite ride.

I was recently asked, “What do I think of the current American builders?” I don’t really know enough to answer that. I only know what I see at NAHBS each year. I see beautiful pieces of art, outstanding paint and metal work, but how do they ride? Or does anyone even care? No one will ever go out and race on such a machine anyway. Race bikes are no longer made of steel.

As far as I can see, the corporations who today build the carbon fiber bikes that are raced, are doing little that is innovative as far as geometry. They still build the basic 73-degree parallel frame that dates to the days when it was easier for a builder to build a lugged steel frame that way.

It is difficult to find a CF fork with a 35 mm. rake anymore. Today frames come out of a mold, angles and geometry could be unlimited. Within UCI rules of course, but even within those rules there is room for change. The UCI will also follow what the manufactures want. Disc brakes was an example of that.

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Retro-grouch or just obsolete

I started writing here in 2005 that will be sixteen years by the end of this year. That is a long time and a lot of material, a lot of subjects covered.

The reason I started writing here was simple, I had gathered a lot of knowledge over the years spent building bicycle frames. I felt I needed to share that knowledge. There must be millions of people like me all over the world, doing something or other, and along the way figured out how to do that something a certain way.

This knowledge is often not written down and when these people are gone, that knowledge will be gone also. I felt this was a damn shame because knowledge passed on from one generation to the next is how humankind got from chasing their food with a stick, to where we are today.

However, the thing I find alarming is that our knowledge today is growing at such a rate, that old information becomes outdated at a faster rate. We are producing products that are almost obsolete by the time they are shipped from the factory to the store.

The other thing concerns me is, does anyone really care about what I or anyone else did forty or fifty years ago, when most people are not interested in what was done last year, or even six months ago? I am talking here from a bicycle industry standpoint.

I know my regular readers will say they are interested, and I believe most genuinely are, otherwise they would not keep on coming back. But is the knowledge gathered here only of value from an entertainment standpoint?

Most of those who visit here and learn something about bicycles are no different from bird watchers, people who grow roses, brew beer, or collect stamps. Part of the enjoyment of engaging in a hobby is becoming an expert in that particular subject.

This blog gets around 1,500 to 2,000 hits a day from all over the world, most of these hits come from search engines. Type in any question about bicycles and chances are I have written about it at some time or other, and that article will pop up in a search.

Many hits come from forums where people are discussing some aspect or other of the bicycle, sooner or later someone will post a link to an article I have written. Then the term “Retro-grouch” will pop up, and I wonder, “Is that how people really see me?”

I left the bike business in 1993 so naturally stuff I write about pre-dates that, but does that make me a retro-grouch? To me a retro-grouch is someone stuck in the past that will not move forward. When I was in the bike business, I always questioned the status quo, and often went against what everyone else was doing.

The robots that drive the search engines will only pick up my blog if I keep writing new stuff. At some point I will become too old, too tired, or simply run out of stuff to write about.

When I stop writing, within a year this blog will disappear from the search engines. Publishing in book form is no better, there are so many books published each year that most only reach a limited audience, and who remembers a book that was published last year?

I think the point I am trying to make is that when I started writing here I did so because I thought what I had to offer had some value. I still believe that is true, it is just my reasons for thinking so has changed.

What do you think? Does the speed of advancement in today’s technological environment make knowledge obsolete at a faster rate?

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Remembering my Mother

This Mother’s Day what better time to remember and pay tribute to my own mother. Born in 1897 she was 39 years old when I was born in 1936.

I never knew her without grey hair, although I was told it had been black when she was younger. She had a tough life, smashed her kneecap as a 10-year-old child, when a pile of lumber fell on her while playing on a construction site.

As a result, her left leg was set straight, and she could not bend it. Her handicap never slowed her walking, although of course she had a severe limp, and even climbing and descending stairs did not seem a challenge.

However, whenever she sat, especially in a theater or other public place, people would run into her extended leg. They would expect her to move it, and of course she could not, and she would have to stand to let then pass.

My mother was widowed in the 1930s and left with two children, when her first husband died of a heart attack at age 40. She married my father in 1935, a year before my birth. My stepbrother was 7 years older than me and lived with us, my older stepsister moved away when she was 18-years-old to work in an Aircraft Factory as part of the war effort.

I was three and a half years old when WWII started in September 1939, and my father was one of the first to be called into the army. It was five years before I saw him again. I have only fleeting memories of my father before then, and my younger sister was born two weeks after my father left.

Once more my mother was left to raise small children on her own. She was an expert at sewing and made all our clothes as we grew up. She would take a man’s suit or overcoat, and painstakingly take it apart by cutting the stiches at the seams with a razorblade.

She would then measure us, make a paper pattern, from which she would cut the material salvaged from the old garments and make us a suit or overcoat. She had a small hand-cranked Singer sewing machine. She also made clothes for neighbors and was often compensated with old suits and coats to make even more clothes.

She also knitted and crocheted, made sweaters, scarves, hats and even gloves and socks. Mostly from wool unraveled from old sweaters. She also taught my stepbrother and me to sew, knit and crochet. Our mother always encouraged us to draw, paint, and engage in craft projects.

Above: 1943 at the height of WWII. (Left to Right.) My Mother aged 46, my sister aged 3 1/2. my stepsister aged 18, and me aged 7.

The greatest thing my mother ever did for me was to boast about my achievements to other people while I was present. She would always say things like, "David is so good at drawing," or "He is so good with his hands, he is always making things." She would show people my creative endeavors.

I would make her laugh by the silly little things I said, and she would repeat this to other people, which made me make more stuff up, or I would remember jokes I heard on the radio and tell her.

I don't think she was even conscious of what she was doing. I believe she was genuinely proud of what I could do, this turned out to be a tremendous boost to my self-esteem.

I remember starting school at aged five, full of confidence. In the years that followed much of my self-esteem had been eroded away, I hated book learning and teachers were always putting me down and telling me I was stupid.

But, when I left school at 16, and started and engineering apprenticeship, my education really started. No more book learning, this was hands-on learning, figuring stuff out with my mind, and making things with my hands, which I knew I could do.  I was good at it; my mother had always told me so.

My Mother died peacefully in her sleep in 1982 a few months short of her 85th. birthday. I remember it well when my sister called me. I had just started my own business but was still working in the Masi shop.

She never got to see my later success, and I never thanked her for her part.

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Irony

Roger Daltrey, lead singer and one of the founding members of “The Who” recently drew attention when he spoke about the current “Woke” generation, and suggesting they are making the World a miserable place to live in.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not criticizing Roger Daltrey or co-member of the Who, Pete Townsend.  Their music has brought joy to millions for the last fifty years, and the world would be a poorer place without their songs.

And please don’t criticize me for even daring to mention it, I’ve paid my dues and built a few good bike frames over the years. Allow me to add my two cents.

I do find Roger D’s comment a little ironic as the Who had their first hit with “My Generation,” speaking of their generation of the 1960s and basically telling the older generation of that time, not to put them down. The Who then went on to have another huge hit with "Won't get fooled again.” The lyrics go.

We'll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgement of all wrong
They decide, and the shotgun sings the song.

To me this sounds exactly like the current situation, with fighting in the streets, lead by those “Who sit in judgement of all wrong.” Then the chorus implies that it really doesn’t matter who is in charge, nothing changes, and everything stays the same.

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again.

The next verse continues with the sentiment, “Nothing Changes.”

The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that's all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
'Cause the banners, they are flown in the next war.

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again, no, no

I'll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie.

“The hypnotized never lie.” There’s a quote to mull over.

There's nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Is now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
Don't get fooled again, no, no

Yeah
Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss. 

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. This time last year there was different President in the Whitehouse, and I sat here writing my blog, just as I am doing today. Because I remain neutral, my life remains the same. 

In my view Roger Daltrey is a little off when he says “The Woke generation is making the world a miserable place to live in.” Not my life, not in the place where I live. I was young once, believe it or not. “We wanted so much to be different than the previous generations.”

We wore the fashions of the day, so we all looked the same. We had the same musical tastes, we did everything our friends did, we wanted above all to fit in. Our cry was, “We want to change the world,” our motive was to remain popular. It was all about me and look at me. 

No different than the current generation. The big difference is today we have the Internet and Social Media, everyone has a voice and whatever trends on Facebook and Twitter ends up in the news, so it is non-stop, in your face.

The phrase, “Stay Woke” meaning Stay awake, or be aware, was first coined by black writers and musicians, and came into popular use by the African American community, as a slogan for the “Black Lives Matter” movement. 

What happened next is best described by writer Franklin Sinner. @NovaFrankly who also wrote about irony on Twitter last September: 

Ironic, Black folk made “Woke” to represent awakening from evil centuries old racist conditioning, now look. Y’all highjacked and twisted it into some hollow caricature, devoid of all meaning, that you ridicule and fight over it just like everything else we create.

Man sincerely, Fuck all y’all.

This brought a comment from none other than John Cleese. (British Monty Python star.)

A lot of woke behaviors seem to me posturing; striking attitudes that allow them to experience the lovely, warm glow of moral superiority, while justifying their own aggression by using denial-and-projection.

So, you see it really is a case of nothing changes, you just pick up your guitar and play, just like yesterday. Nothing changes because nothing ever really gets done, and if by chance next week there is a young people's revolution in Russia, (Just for example.) there will be some new Hashtag trending on Facebook and Twitter as everyone rushes to fix that injustice.

Here is excellent reading on the meaning, history and evolution of Woke.

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Pictures from the past

1951 I was 15 years old, not old enough to race for another year. 70 years ago, yet the above picture brings it back as if it were yesterday. One of the highlights of my year was during the Tour de France when I would order copies of a French sports paper called “Le Miroir des Sports.”

It would arrive in the mail, a newspaper size publication printed on glossy paper. All in French so I could not fully understand the captions, but I didn’t need to, I could pick out the rider’s names and the photos themselves told the story.

Over the years my copies got lost, then in recent years I discovered some of these same pictures online and saved them. These pictures give me a great deal of pleasure, especially when occasionally I will remember a picture from my youth. Like the one above of Swiss rider Hugo Koblet on his way to his 1951 Tour win

You can see from the picture, the road conditions were atrocious, and punctures were a frequent occurrence. Race regulations back then did not allow a bike or wheel change and motorcycle mechanic (Clue, goggles on head.) is changing the tire. These are tubular tires, glued to the rim.

Often the riders changed their own tires if their mechanic was not close at hand. You can see the spare tire laying at Koblet’s feet, this was probably wrapped around his shoulders, which was a typical way to carry a spare back then.

A second spare tire is neatly folded and strapped under his saddle. Incidentally, that is probably a Brooks B17 leather saddle. I say that because almost the entire Tour de France field rode on a B17 during that era.

Koblet’s bike has a regular pump in front of the seat tube, and a CO2 pump behind it. (Yes, we had CO2 pumps back then.) The bike has steel cottered cranks with Simplex rings. It has early Campagnolo front and rear derailleurs, operated by bar end shifters. (Not shown in this picture.)

There is no rear derailleur hanger, the gear is clamped to the rear dropout, and there were no braze-on cable stops. The bike has a full-length cable from the handlebar gear lever to the rear derailleur, held to the frame with clips. There are fender eyelets on the rear dropouts, this bike would be used for racing and training. (I had a much larger version of the picture to see such small detail.) 

Koblet’s eyes are focused down the hill, looking to see who is coming up. He was probably leading when he punctured. Tall and slender, he has the ultimate climber’s build. He is reaching in his pocket for food, it is almost impossible to eat on a climb like this, so a rider would use a forced stop like this the grab some nourishment. Note that the jersey has front pockets as well as rear, and these are also stuffed with food.

Another puncture in this next picture. (Right.) Koblet is now wearing the race leader’s Yellow Jersey.

Even though the picture is not in color I know it is the Yellow Jersey because it has the initials HD embroidered on the chest, for Henri Desgrange, founder of the Tour de France who died in 1940. 

At first it appears Koblet is checking his watch. But notice his watch is on his left arm. Hugo Koblet is once again stuffing his face with food.

In the final picture, Koblet has a spare tire crossed behind his back and looped around his shoulders. He has his goggles on his arm, as his pockets are no doubt full of food.

The bike has a pump on the seat tube, because of this a second water bottle is mounted on his handlebars. This was customary in the Fifties and before.

Plastic water bottles have not yet arrived, these were made from spun aluminum, with a real cork for a stopper.

Both hands were needed to remove the cork from the bottle.

A piece of string around the neck of the bottle and attached to the cork prevented the rider from dropping the cork.

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