Looking back on the United States part of my framebuilding career, although some of my success I created, fate also played a large role.
For example, in 1980 I went for a job interview with Trek, in Wisconsin. I didn’t get the position, but later that same year I landed a job with Masi in Southern California.
When I eventually started my own business, I was definitely in the right place. California, and in particular the southern part of that state, has a climate where one can ride a bike year-round. Had I opened my own framebuilding shop in Wisconsin, business would have definitely been seasonal.
Also, when Masi laid me off at the end of 1981 it was due to an overstock of unsold frames coinciding with a recession. It was not because of anything I had done, and it was not necessarily Masi’s doing either.
They were only too pleased to rent me space in their shop to build my own frames, as they also had a drop in income. This got me started back in my own business again, and I was able to resume building custom frames, something I had not done since leaving England in 1979.
Then when John Howard, ex-Olympic rider and winner of the first Ironman Triathlon approached me in 1983 to build frames under his own name, it gave me a contract to build five frames a week.
This brought in a steady income to supplement what I was already making from my custom frames. It enabled me to open my own framebuilding facility, along with my own paint shop.
The John Howard frame was a short lived project that only lasted a year. Again due to circumstances largely outside of my control, and of which I have outlined here in a previous article.
This left me scrambling to find a replacement to fill the void in my production capabilities. Once again fate had played a hand and out of that the Fuso was conceived.
The John Howard frame was always underpriced, and profit margins were small. It was competing head on with the Masi and Italian import frames, but was not an established brand at that time, so we had to produce and sell it for less.
With lessons learned from the John Howard frame, the Fuso came into being in 1984. The extreme luxuries like chrome plating were dispensed with, and the Fuso was a well-designed, well-built product with nice paint and graphics.
No longer having to split profits with a middle-man, I now had a frame that was a reasonable price and would compete favorably with the import frames.
The Fuso had a good run for almost ten years, when once again fate took a hand in the form of the Mountain Bike, people stopped buying road bikes. However, this time I did not rise to the challenge and re-invent myself or my business.
Maybe I had been knocked down one too many times. I was thoroughly burned out with the bike business, and no longer wanted to be a part of it.
If someone had offered me a job in the bike business, I would have considered it. But to run my own business again, subject to all the whims of the market and the consumer. No, thank you very much
Looking back, I have no regrets, but can't help but wonder what if I had landed that job with Trek back in 1980. Would they have treated me well enough that I stayed?
I might have retired by from some executive position with a large pension. On the other hand, I doubt if it would have been as satisfying as what I did do.
And is money the only consideration when a person looks back on what they have achieved? At some point we die, and money has little bearing on anything
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Mon, February 24, 2020 
Selling the Benefit
In other words, “How will the consumer’s life be made better” if he buys whatever it is you are selling. In the case of a bicycle, how will it improve his performance?
One can build or manufacture just about anything then put up some wonderful sounding argument stating why it is of benefit to the user. Most of these statements cannot be proved or disproved.
Even when these theories are disproved, nobody really cares least of all the company who has made a lot of money, and everyone just moves on to whatever the next trend is.
In the late 1960s Cinelli built a frame that was absolutely devoid of all brazed-on fittings, stating that braze-ons weakened the frame. Gear levers, cable guides, etc. all had to be clamped on to the frame. (Picture top left.)
Some years later people realized that the clamps held moisture and started rust spots, and the clamps sometimes caused stress risers and tubes often broke adjacent to the clamp.
For a while every other framebuilder followed suit, because it saved a tremendous amount of time. (Which was of course the real reason.) Cinelli had stumbled on an incredibly simple way to cut labor costs, then actually sold the idea to the consumer as a benefit.
At the time Cinelli charged double what anyone else did for a frame. The psychology was, it costs more, and therefore it must be better. Also, if it costs more you win the one-upmanship game. A psychology that is still being played out in today’s high-end bicycle market.
Weight saving is always an easy sale to the bicycle enthusiast. Push weight saving to its limits and in the case of a frame, it becomes flexible. Then you sell the idea that a flexible frame is an actual benefit to the rider. The big question here is, “How much flex?” Aluminum for example makes a very strong and lightweight frame. However, it has little or no flexing qualities.
Back when I built frames, they were made by brazing a high tensile steel tube into a lugged joint. In the case of Columbus, the tubes were heat treated and were like a very strong steel spring. When the framebuilder heated the tubes to braze the joint it actually softened the tubes, thereby losing a tiny amount of the strength, and spring qualities.
Remember Cinelli’s argument that braze-ons weakened the frame. Actually there was a grain of truth in that statement. However, brazing the lugged joint and attaching braze-ons is part of the frame building process. The tubes are actually designed to withstand losing some of the strength during the building process. Brazed correctly, the end product is still far stronger than it need be.
This is why steel tubes are butted, (Greater wall thickness at each end.) so there is still adequate strength left after the joint is made. The trick is to use just enough heat to get the job done, but not heating the tube a greater distance from the lug or braze-on than necessary, thus retaining as much of the tube’s inherent strength as possible.
Because a frame is like a very stiff steel spring, when the rider makes a sudden effort as when he jumps in a sprint, the frame gives or flexes slightly. This is desirable, but the operative word here is “Slightly." It is like the difference between an athlete jumping from a concrete track or floor, and one jumping from a Tartan track surface or a floor made from wooden boards.
There is an old Briticism, (A saying from the UK.) that “Bull shit baffles brains.” So whenever you are reading the sales pitch for the latest and greatest high tech wonder. (Not just bicycles, but any consumer product.) Keep an open mind.
They are selling the benefit. Your life will somehow be better for owning this product. Turn that idea around and ask, “What is the benefit to the manufacturer?” Is this product really better than the old one, or has the manufacturer found a cheaper way to make it?
Or has the manufacturer simply come up with something "New and Improved," that serves no real purpose other than to make the old one obsolete.