The Indignity of Bicycle Maintenance: Singlespeed Edition

Recently, in the spirit of contrived irreverence, I registered to participate an upcoming singlespeed cyclocrossing event.  This is not as incongruous as it sounds--I am, after all, a veteran of the 2010 SSCXWC in Portland, OR.  Plus, a photo of me attempting to sterilize myself with a one-speed bicycle even appeared in Bicycling magazine instructional:

(You can't unsee this now.)

Though that's only because I wrote it.

In any case, the above bicycle is the aesthetically challenged yet eminently versatile Ironic Orange Julius bike, which at one time or another has been an intrepid fixie commuter:

A singular-speed cyclocross bike:

And, currently, a comfortable upright commuter:

Now ordinarily I'd just remove all the extra stuff and swap handlebars in order to make this heap of shit "race"-ready.  However, these days the Ironic Orange Julius Bike lives with my mother in Queens, so that when I'm there I have something to ride (which is an increasingly unnecessary extravagance now that the Citi Bike service area has reached her neighborhood, but whatever):

And because I didn't feel like going all the way to Queens to get it, I decided that the best course of action was to take my travel bike and make that a singlespeed:

Not only does it have horizontal dropouts, but I wouldn't have to swap the cables or fit new brake cables or anything like that, so I figured stripping it down and doing a quick conversion would be a quick and straightforward operation.  In fact, I resolved to complete the project without spending a single American cent.  And so yesterday morning that's what I set out to do:

Now I knew it had been awhile since I'd ridden the bike, but I didn't realize just how long it had been.  Indeed, after riding it last winter I must have just put it away without wiping it down, because pretty much everything was salty and corroded:

Seriously, it was bad.  The chain was rusted solid, and I had to break it in four places and remove it in sections just to get it off the bike.

After awhile I realized my original plan of converting the bike and then going for a ride wasn't going to happen, as this project was going to consume like half the day.  Still, I pressed on, and I was nearly done when I squeezed the brakes and discovered that one of the cantilever arms was totally seized.  I sprayed it with some penetrating oil while I worked on something else, but to no avail; and eventually, because I'm nothing if not impatient, I attempted to break it free via the judicious application of a rubber mallet--with predictable results:

That's right, I broke the canti stud right off the bike.  (And no, it's not one of those replaceable ones that threads into the frame.)  Still, I'd come this far, and there was no way after all that work I was going to give up.  Plus, there were still some threads in there.  So I rummaged around in all my spare brake parts and spare canti studs and all the other crap I've accumulated over the years and eventually found a bolt that probably came with a set of fenders or something which I used to secure to the brake to the frame:

Does it work?  Yes.  Do I trust it?  Not a bit.  However, it only really has to last for less than an hour, and for all the fussing over discs and everything else the fact is you hardly use your brakes in cyclocross at all.  Also, the bolt threads all the way through the boss, so that's got to count for something:

And for all the forcing and bending and hammering and breaking the finished product looks pretty good:

Alas, I didn't meet my goal of spending $0, because I did spring for a new roll of electrical tape in order to repair the bar tape:

Not only did it have gouges in it from traveling, but it was also wrapped to accommodate bar-end shifters and cables--but I'll be damned if I'm going to spend the time and money on new bar tape.

(As for the mighty spacer stack, I'll remind you once again I knowingly accepted a frame that's too small because it's all that Surly had and I really wanted a bike with couplers.  Funky appearance aside it feels just fine, plus I suspect the smaller size makes it easier to pack.)

Of course I might in future invest in one of these Problem Solvers canti stud repair kits:

But they seem to be out of stock everywhere, and also I don't see how it's much stronger than what I've currently got going on in there.

In any case, certainly there's a lesson here about patience, but what I really came away from with this project was this:

I have way too much crap.

Sure, on one hand I was able to curate a singlespeed cyclocross bike without visiting a bike shop because I've got everything from wheels to tires to spare cogs to freehub spacers to chains to chainrings and chainring bolts in every conceivable configuration, but on the other hand digging through everything I have to find that stuff was time-consuming and, frankly disturbing.  Over and over again I'd find new, unopened items I not only didn't realize I had, but have since bought again because I didn't know I had them.  I've easily got enough parts laying around to build four bikes--and that includes the frames.  I even found a fork I'd been looking for, and you know you've got too much crap when you can't find a bicycle fork.

So I may have to spend this holiday season going through it all and getting rid of it.  I mean yes, it's good to know you can always build up a spare bike, but as the father of seventeen (17) human children and an increasingly irrelevant yet still active bike blogger I simply don't have that kind of time.  Maybe instead of a Fondon't I'll have to throw a great big sidewalk sale.

And there you have it.  I'll let you know how the bike does.  And in the meantime, if you see me out there, probably best not to ride behind me.