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  • Titanium – The ‘all purpose’ wonder material?

    Steel is real! That’s been my mantra for a long time. It still is, really. Interestingly, I didn’t grow up during the time when steel bikes were common place. Being of a younger generation, my childhood bikes were shaped by the waves of cheap imported aluminium, after the industry finally dialed in the production. Early aluminium experimentation was aimed at manufacturing racy, lightweight frames and this meant a lot of spontaneous failures and issues with longevity. Overengineering and advancement in heat treatment made aluminium a much more viable alternative to steel, by increasing the stress cycles the frame is able to withstand and making it less prone to dents and dings, this development alongside the promise of cheap manufacturing, was a crucial part of the early 2000’s aluminium boom. Alu is a pretty complete package when you think about it – cheap to work with, corrosion resistant, lightweight and durable. So, here I am making the case for aluminium, in a blog post about Titanium, which I started out by saying ‘steel is real’. Confused? I don’t blame you, welcome to my brain.

    Even though my childhood and teen years were predominantly spent on aluminium bikes, I only own one aluminium bike nowadays. I shifted to steel upon returning to the world of cycling after a long hiatus. The reason was quite simple, I wanted to try something else and I’d always been curious about the supposed superior ride quality of steel. I also do think steel frames look better, with their skinny tubes and sometimes ornate lugged swagger. My foray into steel began with a ‘bog standard’ 4130 tubed Specialized from the late 90’s, but I have since expanded my fleet and now own a wide array of steel frames. My favourites being my Surly Karate Monkey, Cross Check and 1×1. Whether or not the ride quality is noticeably different from aluminium I couldn’t tell you, I’d say that my steel frames feel more compliant. They’re not as stiff feeling as my Zaskar, which is the only aluminium framed bike I own these days. But it probably is more down to wheel and tyre choice than anything else. So, what is it specifically that makes steel so real to me? I think it has to do with longevity. As alluded to by the title of this post, I value ‘all purpose’ bikes a lot, I like the utilitarian side of cycling. I want a bike to be able to withstand a bit of everything and I want my bike to be a lasting piece of equipment – I hope for all my bikes to outlast me. This is where steel comes to shine. While aluminum will eventually fail after a finite number of stress cycles, a steel frame can endure an almost infinite number of cycles, as long as the stresses remain below its fatigue limit. And should you be so unlucky and have a steel frame fail on you, there’s the option of repairing it. Because steel, unlike aluminium, does not require specialist welding setups or post-welding heat treatment. This is something that matters to me, because I see my bikes as a lifetime investment and though it may seem neurotic, I rest assured knowing that should one of my beloved bikes fail, I could take it to someone and have it mended. I could do that with an aluminum frame, but with the heat treatment it’d end up a very costly affair and in reality the repair wouldn’t be as strong as it would with steel. Aluminum is far more delicate to work with and is more sensitive to heat than steel. The heat from welding can significantly weaken aluminum in the heat-affected zone (HAZ), softening the metal and disrupting its microstructure. In contrast, steel is more resilient to heat, and its HAZ typically retains much of its original strength once repaired. So, there’s really no negatives to steel, right? No, don’t do it! Don’t say it! Not the R word….

    Sadly the one reality a steel frame owner has to come to terms with is rust. This is particularly an issue for those of us that live in northern maritime climates. I am from Denmark, a country which is surrounded by the roaring North Sea and the Baltic, so there’s little respite from the salty air. Even if I could escape the more coastal regions, I’d be exposing my bikes to salty sludge all through winter as the frost and ice sets in. And that remains my main gripe with using steel for an all purpose, all weather bike; corrosion resistance. A solid paintjob and well sealed components go a long way in protecting a steel frame, of course, but if you really use the bike year round, rust is pretty much inevitable. I treat my frames internally with CorrosionX once a year and do touch ups of surface rust as it appears, which gives me peace of mind, but it is a lot of extra faff. So, if not aluminium or steel – is there anything out there that’s better suited for the task of proper utilitarian cycling?

    That’s when I realised that for quite a few years, unbeknownst to me, I’ve been internalising propaganda from a very vocal crowd. In almost every forum post about ‘which material is the best‘ and ‘oh no my steel frame is rusting what to do‘, there’ll be a few advocates for Big Ti. ‘This would never have happened if it was Titanium‘. I shrugged it off for a long time, admittedly because of the prices. A new off the shelf titanium frame is not exactly within my budget, a custom one even less so. It wasn’t until I stumbled over a bit of a bargain second hand, an early 2000’s Russian made Kocmo, that I decided to start my foray into titanium. Ti excels steel in a few ways, it’s more resistant to dings and dents and it has better fatigue resistance, with a higher fatigue limit that allows it to withstand more stress cycles than steel before failing. And last but certainly not least, titanium has superior corrosion resistance compared to steel and aluminium, as it forms a robust, protective oxide layer that shields it from even the harshest corrosive conditions. All of this sounds like the perfect concoction to build the ultimate all-terrain, all-weather goat, doesn’t it?

    My Kocmo has gone through a few different outfits since I first built it up. At first I ran it 10-speed friction shifted, which didn’t last long. I quickly replaced it with an Alfine 8 IGH, which was a perfect albeit a bit heavy setup. Titanium usually lends itself well to lightweight builds, but my Kocmo is of the more overengineered, bulky persuasion – at least for Ti standards – which works well for my intended use. So, I’ve not been concerned with lightweight this and that.

    The IGH setup served me well for commuting and gravel in the colder seasons, but as a mindless tinkerer, I can’t leave well alone and right now it looks like this, which is likely the way it’ll remain for a while yet. 1×11 and a set of comfy North Road bars, the result is a Randonneur-esque 26’er build which I’m quite proud of.

    I have to touch on the ride quality too, and be as wishy washy as I was earlier in regards to steel vs alu. I insist on being able to tell a difference, I feel that my Kocmo is decidedly stiffer and somewhat harsher than my steel frames. The BB area of my Kocmo is less flexy than on my Surly’s, giving you greater power output at the cost of some extra harshness over bumpy terrain. I am actually pretty okay with that trade-off, as I find myself putting in a lot of tarmac hours on the Kocmo. But again, this perceived rigidity could be down to component choice. Regardless, my Kocmo has definitely been the better option for year round riding, I worry a lot less about maintenance and cleaning than I do with my steel frames. I like that Ti frames typically are finished raw, so there’s no paint to damage and all you have to do to brush up the frame is give it a scrub with a Scotchbrite and some lemon juice. Ti just oozes understated class even when abused, where neglected steel can look sad and ratty. Oxidised aluminium too. Taking all of that into consideration, I admit that I’m slowly coming around to it possibly being ‘the material for me’. But as the old saying goes, nothing is perfect. Being a neurotically obsessive person, I have to refer back to a previous point I made on repairability. For me a proper utilitarian bicycle is one that is strong, reliable and low maintenance. Now it should be mentioned that titanium isn’t particularly prone to failures, but there’s still this voice in the back of my head going… What if it failed, could I have it fixed? After some research the doubt started creeping in, because like with aluminium, titanium also calls for a fairly specialist repair process. Titanium, like aluminium, is very sensitive to heat and contamination so accurate temperature control is of utmost importance. And to further complicate things it requires an oxygen-free welding environment, achieved by using argon gas or a vacuum chamber. When you take that into consideration it becomes pretty clear that this is not something your average garage can sort out for you.

    A video on Titanium welding by weldingtipsandtricks

    This means that if my Ti frame fails, I’d likely have to accept it being a wallhanger and that is something that doesn’t sit well with me. I know some of you reading this will find my insistence on repairability a bit much, but it matters to me and I believe it is an important consideration for anyone who is concerned with the disposable waste culture that we live in. I do feel somewhat assured by the fact that Ti frames don’t tend to fail that easily, and if they do it’s usually due to poor welding from the production line.

    But hey! What about all those horror threads on various forums? I wanted to address this quickly because when doing research before buying my Kocmo, I was somewhat discouraged by the many people talking about cracking Ti frames.

    But honestly I think this perception is somewhat skewed. There are far fewer titanium frames in circulation compared to other materials, so any issues are more noticeable due to the smaller sample size. Additionally, because titanium frames are a significant investment, owners who encounter problems may be more vocal about their experiences, amplifying the perception of frequent failures. I dare wager that the actual incidence of failure is significantly lower than it appears online. That isn’t to say you shouldn’t take it into consideration, especially if buying a second hand frame. I did notice that a good chunk of the failing frames that I saw online were older race frames. I always advocate for exerting extra caution when buying used race frames in any material, as these were designed to be as light as possible while being able to withstand the abuse of riding a season or two – they weren’t intended for long term use.

    So, where do I stand on Titanium? Well, it’s complicated. I think I prefer my Kocmo to my steel frames. It feels bombproof, it’s less maintenance (stays pretty even when mucky!) and it rides nicely. But in terms of it being the ultimate ‘one bike you need’, it still falls short of steel simply due to the initial financial outlay and convoluted repair process. A steel frame gets you the best bang for your buck, a strong frame which can easily be modified and repaired. The only caveat is poor corrosion resistance, but let’s face it, unless you’re severely neglecting your bikes it is very unlikely that the rust will eat through your frame in your lifetime. I actually found it shockingly hard to find real horror pictures of rusted through frames on Google, so either Big Steel is keeping us in the dark with strict censorship – or maybe the rust issues in steel frames are vastly overstated. I am still very happy I dipped my toes in the world of titanium, though, and I’ve recently bought my second Ti frame (yet to be unveiled). I think it is worthwhile giving titanium a go, especially if you can find a bargain second hand. For someone like me, who owns multiple steel bikes, the price of a new Ti frame is not justifiable, especially considering the very marginal benefits. Ti still seems to cater more to the race-oriented, where weight to strength ratio is an important factor, and I would imagine the allure of exotic exclusivity is a selling point as well. But for a workhorse, I must echo the old proverb – steel is real!

    Some may take offense to me not including carbon or stainless steel. My decisions for that are quite simple. Carbon actually ticks a lot of boxes, it is plenty strong, incredibly compliant on and off road, corrosion resistant and highly repairable (often quite cheaply), but also more sensitive. It is prone to damage by user error, installation of parts has to be done carefully to protect the integrity of the carbon layup. It also doesn’t handle impacts well, resulting in cracks or delamination, so it isn’t a material I’d trust for a more rough and tumble existence in cities or on the trails. In regards to stainless steel, I am very curious to see what the future brings. As of now it is somewhat limited by lack of tubesets, lugged construction and the higher cost of manufacture. I’d love to sample a stainless steel frame, though.

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  • Navigating the world of Chinesium

    I like shopping on AliExpress. I know it gets a bad reputation, and for a good reason. It is, alongside many of the other commerce giants, the home of electroschrott, counterfeiting and false advertising. There’s a lot of things not to like, but at the same time it also homes a wide array of solid products from established Far Eastern companies that produce very serviceable products. It is a selling platform after all, not a single manufacturer, but it can be a bit of a minefield to navigate. So, I thought I’d share my experiences buying from AliExpress and SEA based companies, and some of the guidelines I follow.

    Before we get into that, though, I want to say that I am fed up of people shaming others for buying parts from AliExpress, meanwhile they themselves buy identical products which have been dropshipped to EU/NA to be sold on Amazon and eBay at a higher cost. Some claim it is for ethical reasons, but it is important to remember that in terms of moral corrupt practices, Alibaba Group and Amazon have a lot in common. Neither are the ‘ethical’ approach, and this is not what this blog post is about. I am merely interested in finding cheap, serviceable parts and a bit of bling to keep my bikes running. And if you spend, even just 5 minutes looking at reviews of products, you’ll see how big an impact a platform like AliExpress has on the lower income parts of the world, where it has given people access to capable drivetrains, hydraulic braking and other modern advancements in cycling – at a fraction of the cost from a larger Western-approved brand. This is something that is very crucial to recognise. Reminder: What created the cycling culture that we know today isn’t synonymous with the early roots of the bicycle, where bicycle ownership was a signifier of wealth, something reserved the elite layers of society and production was priced accordingly. It wasn’t until mass production took hold that we saw the bike culture that we know today forming. Now I know a lot of people lament the days before production was shifted largely to the Far East. But let’s face it, those days are not coming back. The outsourcing left a gap in production within Europe and North America, creating a vacuum that many smaller Western manufacturers are now capitalizing on, but rather than focusing on affordable, grassroots-level products, these companies are projecting themselves as ‘artisan’, ‘bespoke’ manufacturers, offering high-end, luxury bike parts and frames. As a result, the demand for more accessible and cost-effective options is increasingly being filled by companies in the Far East, and that’s unlikely to change.

    So, now that we’ve cleared up my stance. What are some things to look out for when shopping on any of these Far Eastern marketplaces? First of all, I think it is pretty important to have a healthy dose of rationality as you’re scrolling through the piles of shiny tat. If something seems too good to be true, chances are it is. There’s a lot of misleading advertising going on there. I think many of us are familiar with Wish and Temu, where a beach ball might be listed as a bunch of similar key words – perhaps not even mentioning that it is a beach ball. This happens with bike parts too, and so that “Titanium Aluminium Steel Race Road MTB Speed 26 27.5 29 Frame” might not be quite what you think it is. You can try to write sellers, but often they don’t speak English and the automatic translation can be poor. But if you’re seeing a Titanium frame for a 100 quid, I’d say there’s a fairly high chance that you’re getting an aluminium lump in a Titanium colour! So, use common sense.

    Filtering and using reviews

    When you’re searching for things that you need, it’s usually a good idea to list by “Orders”. This will show the listings with the largest quantity of orders, and they usually have the most reviews. And that is key, to find products that have a lot of reviews from various countries and a good amount of orders. This not only shows that the shop is established but also will tell you whether or not the product is worthwhile. And this is where you have the chance to determine whether or not the finishing of the product is up to par. Look for reviews with photos from users, where you can see the part fitted. There’s been so many times where I’ve received something, which looks very similar to the listing, but the finish isn’t what I expected. There’s a tendency for shiny/solid coloured parts to actually arrive looking slightly off colour with a more granulated finish. A decidedly cheaper look than the solid, polished colours sometimes seen on the listing. You’ll find this especially true of cheap narrow wide chainrings and cranks. That’s why the reviews can be such a godsend, as you get to see the actual product fitted by another customer.

    How do I make sure that I get something of decent quality?

    When it comes to picking something that won’t break almost immediately, I once again will refer back to the common sense point. You need a healthy dose of that. Because there’s a lot of very flashy looking parts and bikes, and many outrageous promises too. There’s the old saying Cheap / Light / Strong, pick two. Keep that in the back of your head. I always advocate against buying parts that are specifically marketed as “ultralight”, especially if they’re 1) a critical part and 2) cheap. Using less material means reduced strength as there’s less material to handle and distribute stresses. To counteract this, components must be carefully machined and designed with precision to maximize strength while minimizing material. And though there’s plenty of Chinese production doing just that, they are the mass manufacturing hub of the world after all, it comes at a cost and if something is very light and very cheap you can bet your bottom (or your teeth in this case) that it likely hasn’t been designed to withstand serious prolonged stress cycles, and/or the quality control is in the gutter. Therefor, if you want to buy something very light – and cheap – go for parts that are not critical. Meaning, if this part were to fail you wouldn’t be headed straight to the emergency. I’ve successfully used lightweight QR skewers and clamps, brake levers, brake arms, tensioners, chainrings and bolts. I would exert caution using outrageously cheap lightweight stems, cranks, pedals, seatposts, saddles, handlebars and forks. For load-bearing, critical parts there’s still plenty of options on AliExpress, but go for something beefier. Here’s what I look for, if cheap and a more critical part:

    • Pedals: Steel axle, composite or aluminium body.
    • Cranks: Forged aluminium or steel, if 2-piece I opt for a steel spindle.
    • Seatposts: Aluminium or steel, at a weight that seems to correspond with budget options from reputable brands.
    • Saddles: Steel or alu rails, no carbon
    • Forks: Steel and rigid. Cheap suspension is awful and risky. Rigid alu forks have to be overengineered quite significantly to withstand many stress cycles, will end up almost as heavy as steel – so go for steel.

    What about counterfeits and lookalikes?

    When you’re looking around it is very likely that you’ll encounter counterfeits of parts, where they use the actual branding from the real manufacturer or lookalikes that may use their own branding but are a little too close for comfort in terms of likeness. It is very unlikely that any of these are going to be good replicas, instead what you’re paying for is purely aesthetic. I own a few knock offs that I bought because I was curious, namely a Chris King headset (I call it the Chris Kong, and of course let everyone know it’s a fake) and a set of Paul’s Components levers. The fake Chris King headset is a generic sealed headset with the branding slapped on there. The quality is identical to the rest of the generic headsets offered by Ztto/Litepro, which I’ve generally had good experiences with. A headset is a headset, though, so I’d be shocked if they weren’t up to the task. I’ve never had a bad headset – cheap or expensive. But my point is that it the knock off Chris King headset isn’t similar to my real one, the individual parts aren’t similar. They have not gone to any lengths to make this replica more than skin deep. Now the Paul’s levers.. They seem OK at first glance but obviously have poorer jagged machining and imperfect finishing, so again – aesthetically inspired, but not up to the standards of the real deal.

    Poor finish on Knock Off Paul’s Levers

    You get what you pay for, and then there’s of course the moral conundrum of whether you want to be putting money into the hands of counterfeiting hoodlums. I would encourage you to stay away from direct rip-offs, but if you really like the look of something and you can’t afford the real deal, I won’t shame you for buying it. This is also why I’m less bothered by lookalikes that don’t fully intend to con you – the ones that at least make it clear that they’re a replica of sorts. There’s many products that I like the look of, but I’d never buy due to the price being too high. So, to find something that looks similar, even with a cheesy generic English word slapped on it, is a score to me. Some would be against this too, as it still is a form of infringement on a patented design. I don’t really care to be honest, I’ve got far more dire concerns for the world. But yes, if you buy something that imitates a higher end product, in most instances it won’t perform or look as well as the real deal.

    Some of my favourite go-to parts

    There’s a few brands that are pretty popular in S.E.A. The likes of ZTTO, iXF, LitePro, Deckas, Muqzi etc. There’s some overlapping in the product ranges they offer, likely because it all comes from the same factories. But I’d like to think that though the parts are the same, the more established brands would spend more money on quality control, so you’d be guaranteed a better and safer product.

    From ZTTO: I really like their sealed headsets. Great value, minimalist, runs smooth and keeps grime out pretty well. Their wide range cassettes are a bang for your buck too. Tolerances are not as tight as on Shimano or SRAM, so shifting can be a bit clunky but they hold up pretty good and is a low-cost option for wide ratio gearing, which isn’t exactly cheap – especially once you get to 11/12 speed. They do offer entire groupsets too, I’ve not had the chance to test them out though. I was put off after receiving a derailleur from them that didn’t live up to expectations.

    From iXF: I’d say they really carved a name for themselves with their bargain Hollowtech 2 cranks, sold with the whole shebang to get you on the road. A forged SLX/XT inspired design, with somewhat tacky finishing, but solid and cheap. A good option for people who want a 1x external setup at a very low cost. Non-asymmetrical 104 BCD too, so very easy to find rings for. They come in square taper too, and can be set up as a triple or double.

    From LitePro: LitePro is probably one of my favourites. Aimed primarily at the folding bike crowds, they do pretty much everything. Cranks, brakes, levers, pedals, seatposts and general accessories. They have more offerings for the road-inclined rider too, with their Hollowtech II road cranks and plenty of 130 BCD square taper options. As always I recommend staying on the cautious side with their ultra-lightweight bits if they’re a crucial component, but their cranks – including lighter options – do seem to have held up well for people. I am particularly fond of their levers personally, and I also think their v-brakes are super neat, as they offer loads of pad adjustment to experiment with different wheelsizes on a canti studded frame.

    From Deckas: Rings, rings, rings! If you recall when everyone was buying 104 bcd “snail rings” on eBay and Amazon, Deckas offers exactly that and a much wider range. They even do oval rings, and 144 BCD track ones. Sadly they’re finished a bit poorly, in my experience, but the tooth profile adequately holds the chain in place, and they don’t wear all too fast. They’re not at all comparable in quality to a Wolf Tooth or Absoluteblack, but I’d say a good year of riding isn’t an unrealistic expectation and when you consider how cheap they are, it’s a nobrainer really. Comes in a fair few colours. But I’d refrain from the more vibrant colours as I feel it makes that granulated cheap look stand out.

    From Muqzi: They do what I’d consider one of the nicest v-brakes available. Good finish, clean machining and a large range of adjustment of the pads, making it the perfect candidate for a 26 to 650b conversion. They also offer a lot of similar products to LitePro, aimed at the folding crowd, including a wide array of adapters.

    From ThinkRider: I really dig their pedals. They do a more high end range of serviceable alu ones, and lower end ones of composite. I only tried their alu offerings, and was positively surprised. Spun perfectly out of the box and have required zero servicing, still spinning as smoothly as the day I bought them years ago. They also offer a wide range of saddles, trainers and tools. I have not sampled any of those yet. But what I’ve heard has been overwhelmingly positive, especially about their trainers.

    From Tsunami: My minivelo was manufactured by Tsunami and is a very well-made steel frame. Their cheaper frames are usually high tensile steel, or 6061-T6 aluminium, while their more expensive ones are 4130 or Reynolds tubed. I’ve been very impressed with the build quality of my minivelo, and the finish isn’t half bad either. I’ve seen a good chunk of posts about their track and fixie frames, and they seem to hold up very well too – even enduring some rather involved urban crashes.

    My Minivelo by Tsunami

    From CarbonCycles: This is perhaps the most well-regarded ‘mass produced’ Chinese carbon manufacturer, offering robust carbon forks for 20″, 24″, 26″, 27.5″ and 28″. They even do varying axle to crown and canti studded versions, which makes this a perfect option to go carbon on your old rim braked 26’er. They also have a wide selection of bars, stems and seatposts. Their products are tested to EN/DIN standards, and their price points reflect it too, but they’re still cheaper than going for one of the more well-known brands. These cannot be found on AliExpress to my knowledge, but they have their own site which even offers shipping from UK warehouse. https://www.carboncycles.cc/

    From Ltwoo and Sensah: I’ve put these two together, even though they’re competitors. But their offerings are pretty identical. They produce really affordable drivetrains, with catalogues featuring budget friendly 1x wide ratio setups similar to industry giants like Shimano and SRAM, while also providing more backward-compatible groupsets for older 7, 8, and 9-speed systems, which is something I really appreciate. As Shimano recently axed its older ranges and replaced it with the new proprietary Cues groupset, Ltwoo and Sensah are now at the forefront of giving us retrogrouches an upgrade path to maintain older bikes without needing to switch to newer, more expensive technology.

    So, that’s a few of the companies and products that I recommend taking a look at when you’re shopping from the Far East. It really isn’t too daunting if you, as mentioned a few times in the post already, use your common sense and don’t go overboard. I love cheap as much as the next guy, or gal, but we have to be reasonable. With very low prices comes cost saving measures, and you better pray that it didn’t come straight out of the QC fund. This is part of the reason why the “Oh, it’s all made in the same factory anyway” logic fails. I hear it quite often, and I’m inclined to agree on some occasions, especially with parts of lesser complex design. But when it comes to parts that require tighter tolerances to work safely, a company spending more on good quality control will give the consumer peace of mind. But the good news is if you weigh this into the consideration, and apply a healthy dose of skepticism, there’s some real bargains to be made. Yes, there’s an element of gambling in buying these cheap products, but I happen to quite enjoy the hunt.

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  • Coasterbrakes! (A hub braking manifesto)

    Summer is coming to an end and slowly we’re creeping into the colder months. It means damp, dreary greyness with loads of sludgy roads and trails. Perfect opportunity to bring up one of my favourite bits of bike technology. The coasterbrake. One of the oldest methods for braking your bicycle, and still to this day perhaps the most reliable form of braking systems available for utilitarian use. Though I am seeing less and less of them here in Denmark, the fact that they’re still kitted on bikes makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, attesting to their outstanding reliability. From the original patenting by Ernst Sachs in 1903, they remained dominant until the takeover of the hand-actuated caliper brakes in the 1970s, but though they went out of fashion, they’re still here. And what is it exactly that makes a coasterbrake so fantastic, you ask?

    Well, it’s quite simple. It is a sealed braking unit, meaning that the internals of the brakes are all built into the hubshell and as such the braking performance is not impacted by rain, snow or mud. You can ride through virtually all terrain without fear of losing braking power or being completely unable to brake, which can be a reality with clogged brake calipers, or contaminated disc’s. This level of reliableness cannot be found with any external braking system, and it lowers maintenance considerably. In the winter time you can end up having to frequently replace pads as road salt and wet slushy grime grinds away at rim and disc brakes, but with a coaster brake the wear is slow and not exacerbated by the conditions. You also don’t have any wearing parts other than the brake shoes, where as with for example a rim brake, you’re actively wearing down the rim and the brake pads. So all in all, the coasterbrake is the perfect option for a winter commuter – and paired with a front drum brake, you’ve got an absolute bombproof, low maintenance setup that just keeps on working. Here’s my Dawes running a Nexus 3 coaster braked setup with a Sturmey Archer front drum brake.

    So, what are my options if I want to give this a go, you ask? Luckily, you’re sort of spoilt for options. The coasterbrake though not as prevalent as in the past, is still a staple on Shimano IGH ranges and with Velosteel still in business you can also get the more classic, stripped down experience at a very low cost. There’s also a lot of older Sachs and Sturmey Archer ones available second hand, but be aware of axle lengths – we will get into that later. The first thing to consider is the sort of bike you’re intending to convert. The most important thing is to make sure that it has horizontal dropouts, sliding dropouts or track ends.

    Horizontal dropouts, with ability to slide wheel back and forth
    Vertical dropouts, no adjustability for the wheel

    In order to actuate the brake we have to backpedal and as the braking force relies on the torque transmitted through the chain, we can’t use a tensioner, as all of that torque would be going into the tensioner. Best case it simply ruins the tensioner, worst case it damages the dropout. EBB frames could potentially work, but I’d still worry about slippage under high torque.

    Next we have to consider the frame spacing, it is important to understand that more classic coasterbrake hubs are usually singlespeed, such as the Velosteel ones which happen to be my favourite. They’re manufactured for traditional 110mm spacing, but offer various axle lengths, the longest being 180mm which is sufficient for spacing up to 135mm – with a generous serving of spacers on either side of the locknuts. This makes for a weaker axle, so it isn’t ideal – but it does work! You will also have to use a dished cog, like this one, as the chainline will be off by a large margin if using a modern frame.

    10mm offset/dished cog
    Velosteel Hub

    NOTE:The 180mm axle version, or the axle on its own can be very hard to find. Consider getting in touch with Velosteel. I’ve had luck sourcing it from various Eastern European sites, to find those I usually just put “velosteel” and “180mm” in quotation marks in a Google search. Happy hunting!

    If singlespeed is putting you off, you’re best served looking into Shimano’s geared range. There’s a few benefits to going this route, not only because you get multiple gears, but they also offer superior weather sealing to the Velosteel. The beauty of the Velosteel is simplicity, they’re as barebones as they can get, a real blast from the past which can be serviced by absolutely everyone and their dog. But this also means that they are more prone to dirt ingress and that’s where Shimano, with their more overengineered IGH’s shine. The Nexus range is also cheap, offers a good selection of gearing and have far better seals. They also are a bit more plug and play with modern frames due to their O.L.D. The C6001-8C, which is practically identical to an Alfine 8, just with a coaster brake, is spaced around 132mm and so is really plug and play for both 135 and 130mm frames. From the 7 speed selection, the C3001-7C comes with an axle of 175mm and is spaced for 127mm, meaning that with a spacer on either side you should be able to quite easily fit it into a 135mm frame. If you own a 130mm spaced frame, even better, you’ll be fine just clamping down those extra mm’s. This is all assuming you’re riding steel or titanium. Don’t try this with aluminium or carbon, for those materials it’s best to go as close to frame specification as possible. Anyway, if you don’t mind having less gears my recommendation would actually be the Nexus 3 speed range, due to its lower weight. They’re also a bit more simple, while still adequately sealed, making it the perfect middle ground between the more primitive Velosteel and the overengineered 7/8 speed hubs.

    7 speed Nexus
    3 speed Nexus
    8 speed Nexus

    So far so good, are there any other things to consider? Yes, these brakes though very capable and reliable do have some shortcomings which I want to shed light on. It should be made clear that these really aren’t designed for serious off-road riding, particularly in mountaineous terrain. This is due to heat dissipation, and it’s directly linked to their sealed nature, which efficiently keeps out the muck, but also traps the heat generated from braking. This means that if you’re going on long descents down steeper terrain, you will likely build up enough heat to have the brakes completely fade on you. This is how the “Repack” race got its name back in the 70’s. Those early mountain biking pioneers had to repack their hubs once they got to the bottom, as the brakes would usually have faded out before they were even halfway down the mountain. So, I wouldn’t recommend relying solely on a coaster brake hub while doing serious mountain biking, or loaded touring. But for commuting, gravel and the occasional bit of singletrack, I’ve never had even a hint of an issue. The problem isn’t even stopping in steeper terrain, by the way, it is all about how long the brake is continuously engaged.

    All of this is me erring on the side of caution anyway, if it is good enough for the absolute legend that is Heinz Stücke, it’s good enough for any of us.

    Now should you be feeling a bit more fancy and want to try something slightly more artisan, there’s always the “Souped up coaster brake hub” by MONē. These are custom built and can be spaced from 120 to 135, they also offer coolers for improved heat dissipation. But at 272$ with a cooler, and 162$ without it isn’t really a budget option.

    And honestly I am not sure how I feel about the coaster brake, originally a simple, reliable workhorse component used on affordable, utilitarian bikes, being revived as a high-end luxury part. I prefer its humble roots of being a no-frills, dependable part of everyday bicycles. That said, I like the idea of improving the design if it stays true to its roots and remain affordable. I still dream of the day that Shimano may launch a single-speed coasterbraked hub with labyrinth seals like in their Alfine hubs. I know it won’t happen. But I’d love to see it, ideally at a price point identical to the Nexus 3.

    Quite a selection, eh? Honestly, in terms of performance I would say that most coaster brakes perform relatively well. There are some differences from hub to hub, geared hubs can be a bit more spongy feeling. This is mostly down to the fact that they typically use a smaller rear cog, as not to produce too much torque for the planetary gears. To put it simply, the larger the rear cog, the more torque you’re able to put into braking. With a singlespeed hub with a coaster brake, you don’t have to worry about overtorquing in the same way you do with a geared hub. So if you want to get the most out of your coaster brake, go for something large like a 22 or 24T in the rear. You can do the same to a geared hub, but you want to make sure you’re sizing up the front accordingly to not end up gearing too low, causing damage to the gears. Of all the coaster braked hubs I’ve tried, I find that the Nexus range has provided the nicest modulation, where as other models tend to have a bit more of a mind of its own, with the line between locking up the wheel and not braking at all being very, very fine.

    I think that’s most of the stuff you need to know to get coasting. I just wanted to add to the maintenance points earlier. Because though coasterbrakes are low maintenance, I still recommend servicing at least yearly if you’re using a more barebones, primitively sealed unit like the Velosteel. Also, do inspect the steel clip that clamps the brake arm to the chainstays from time to time, not obsessively, but over time the steel clamp will fatigue and when they fail you’re left brakeless. They generally have a long lifespan, and I’ve personally used very old clips and not had any issues. But better safe than sorry, I’ve seen stories of reaction arm clips failing on Sturmey Archer drums, and it’s not a fun experience. While we’re talking about maintenance and all that jazz, I thought I’d just throw in a few extra tips:

    1. If you’re struggling to get the coaster brake arm to reach the chainstays, you can sometimes clamp it to the lower portion of the seat stays. I did this on my Surly 1×1. Alternatively you can take off the brake/reaction arm, pop it in a vice and hammer it to allow it to reach.
    2. If you can’t find clip that is able to wrap around beefy stays, you can use a hose clamp as an alternative.
    3. If stays are too thin and it won’t clamp tight, a few wraps of inner tube or self amalgating tape can do the trick
    4. (Sort of connected to 3) A bit of inner tube or tape can protect the paintwork from the brake arm clamp.

    And with that we can conclude this little propaganda piece. Hopefully this will inspire some of you to give the underappreciated coaster brake a go. Simplifying your bike to minimise wear and tear is the best thing you can do to your winter bike. There’s been plenty of times where snow and slush has rendered my v-brakes completely useless, disc brakes less so but still somewhat impaired. I don’t worry about that now. And as mentioned earlier, if you pair this with a front drum brake, you’ve got low maintenance nirvana. It is important to remember that the sealed braking units, such as drum and coasterbrakes fell out of favor, not because they were bad, but because the industry as a whole consistently has been pushing race componentry into utilitarian lines, promising weight savings and more gears, when in truth what should matter on a true workhorse is dependability and cost effectiveness. Long live the coaster brake!

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  • SKS Veloflexx 65

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  • Honey, I Shrunk the Bikes

    Last year I bought a Minivelo frameset from AliExpress. A friend of mine had introduced me to the world of small wheeled bicycles through a thread on Retrobike, where he initially shared folders but since expanded into the smorgasbord of small wheeled goodness. He started including minivelo’s, and as much as I like a folder, something about these minivelo’s really spoke to me. I think it is the fact that they don’t go the ‘whole way’ in terms of compactness, instead sort of bridging between a full size bicycle and a folder, with a geometry that seems to cater more to distance riding. Folder’s seem more aimed at the urban population which uses public transport extensively, where the extreme compactness really shines. But a minivelo, being a rigid welded frameset, seems a capable beast when it comes to power transfer and robustness, while remaining somewhat compact, so it seems the more sensible long-term option for someone who likes to ride a fairly mixed bag of terrain, where the more flexy hinged folders may suffer. This isn’t me suggesting that a folding bike shouldn’t be taken off-road, I know there’s off-road folder’s, but I sort of instinctively have less faith in something that is hinged compared to a one-piece frame. Also, the more capable the folder the larger the price tag.

    All of that considered, it seemed pretty clear to me that if I wanted compactness – which I definitely did, because lugging my Karate Monkey round in the tram made me feel like an elephant in a porcelain shop, while also maintaining some peace of mind about durability for the varied riding I do, a minivelo would be the way to go. I actually bought two framesets, one was cheap unbranded high tensile steel one and the other a slightly more luxurious butted 4130 Tsunami. I used Google Images and Instagram as a bit of a moodboard to see what direction I wanted to go.

    As I explored the many different builds out there, it became pretty clear to me that a minivelo is basically just a road bike or MTB manufactured by people who were a big fan of Honey, I Shrunk The Kids. Most, if not all the builds, were done using ordinary Road or MTB componentry, with no need for anything specialist. There’s no strange standards to battle with, so apart from the wheelset and slightly more petite mien, there’s really not too much setting them apart from their full size counterparts. That worked for me! I sourced a mix of parts, a lot of it from AliExpress, which I thought fitting considering it’s where I got the frameset. The Tsunami is meant to be a road bike, so I had to use some BMX brake calipers as I knew I’d want to run fatter tyres than recommended. The listing said that the frame wouldn’t be able to take even a 30c, but it turns out that was a very conservative estimate based on them using road brake calipers. The actual clearance on the frame, which was designed for 451 wheels – the bigger cousin to the 406 20″ wheels – was able to handle a big fat 1.7 tyre with knobblies on a 406 rim. I would recommend sticking to 406 wheels on a minivelo, unless you want to be severely limited in terms of tyres, and having to pay a larger premium. 451 is a more exotic, BMX race specific size and though there’s more tyre offerings nowadays, I don’t think it is worth it. Another benefit of 406 is that you can do what I did, and fit fatter tyres for more comfort, if the frame originally was designed for 451 wheels. After fitting the mish mash of parts I ended up with something like this:

    From the very first moment I got on it, there was love in the air. It is hard to find words to describe exactly why it feels good, it is just incredibly nimble and responsive. It is very easy to build up speed, which is fantastic in start/stop traffic, largely thanks to the the short wheelbase. But as most of my riding is a blend of on and off road, I was keen to get it unto more gravelly trails. I eventually did and I was surprised, to say the least. I had superb traction and stability due to the very even weight distribution, it is neither front or rear end biased, and as a result I felt very planted on the ground. But it is a bit of a trade off, though the weight distribution is great, due to the shorter wheelbase and lower center of gravity, the smaller wheels do have less overall ground contact when rolling and so can be prone to slipping in loose gravel. But I definitely don’t find my Tsunami lacking in the off-road department. That said, in urban environments, that is where it shines. It is very nice to be able to bring it inner city and navigate through narrow backstreets, go on public transport or traverse pedestrian riddled roads, maneuvering with ease. And you can stash it just about anywhere. I can totally see how in Asian countries, where space is limited, that these minivelo’s could be the only realistic way to have a Road or MTB adjacent bicycle that can easily be stored in your flat.

    Safe to say I got hooked pretty quickly even though I was a bit skeptical at first. I wrongfully assumed, like many others, that these minivelo’s were merely kids bikes repurposed. But it couldn’t be further from the truth, a lot of thought has gone into the geometry of these little machines. There’s usually a pretty decent selection of frame sizes, allowing almost everyone to build up something that works for them. This obviously depends on manufacturer, and I will say that the offerings on Asian markets probably won’t work that well for someone around, or over, 2 meters tall. I am 176cm and I picked the largest Tsunami 451 frame I could find, and I wouldn’t want more post or steerer exposed than what I have got there. But there’s always custom routes, and I do think some companies stock sizes that could work for the towering giants gagging for a small wheeled experience. I think the Neutrino by Velo Orange is one of the options for the big’uns out there. But yes, back to the point. I was surprised at how natural it felt to ride my minivelo, obviously it is a bit more cramped than riding any of my “normal sized” bicycles, but nothing you don’t get used to. Also, most of the side effects of a smaller frame can be balanced by the right componentry mix. If you’re not keen on the twitchier nature of a minivelo – which is a given considering the smaller top tube and narrower wheelbase – all you have to do is fit a longer stem and wider bar combination. But honestly I think the twitch is part of what makes them such capable urban bikes, because the steering is so very sensitive it gives you quick maneuverability in crowded spaces. It’s all horses for courses.

    I’ve since messed about with the geometry on mine, and now run a shorter reach bar/stem combination:

    If your curiosity has been peaked, I definitely recommend giving minivelo’s a go to see if they could work for you. They’re fun to ride and much less of a novelty than I first assumed. If a folder with its increased maintenance and more failure points doesn’t appeal to you, but you still want compactness, I’d say that a minivelo is the answer. And I think the industry is latching on to that, as I’m seeing more and more of them being produced. And as we enter an age of increased urban density in the Western world, combined with a lack of housing, it isn’t unrealistic to assume that some of the challenges Asian countries have faced for decades will be a reality here. So, a need for increased compactness is likely what’s driven the little-known minivelo to our shores. Now I’m not suggesting that small wheeled bicycles don’t have strong roots here in Europe, but I think the numbers speak for themselves, when it comes to the sheer number of small wheeled riders in the Far East. The history on minivelo’s is a bit muddled and is likely an emulgation of many different influences.

    Kuawahara Gaap
    Bridgestone Moulton

    But I assume that the early Japanese collaborations of Bridgestone with Alex Moulton and the later Gaap range by Kuwahara paved the way for the minivelo’s we see today, with the modern selection (like my Tsunami) being a bit less eclectic and specialist looking, instead mimicking their full size equivalents in a more understated, elegant way. I prefer that. Anyway, time will tell if these little machines are here to stay, or if they’re merely a fad giving people like me a sense of unique identity for a brief stint.

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  • E-bikes Aren’t Bicycles

    I am not a huge fan of the e-bike. I know many others feel similarly, and there’s a multitude of reasonings for their dislike. For me it has nothing to do with perceiving folks that ride them as “cheaters”, which I know is a reason for some, and it isn’t a matter of being envious either. Well, only when I am struggling to make it to the top of the hill and they breeze by barely pedaling! No, but seriously – I can appreciate that the e-bike has something to offer that a traditional push bike cannot. But that’s also why I think we need to take a step back and reflect on what an e-bike really is. Because as of right now, there’s not really much consensus on the definition of an e-bike, and this ambiguity is part of why I remain so skeptical. E-bike classifications vary widely across the globe, in Europe, e-bikes are typically limited to 250 watts with a top speed of 25 km/h, while the U.S. has three classes, with power limits up to 750 watts and speeds up to 28 mph. Some countries allow throttle control, others only pedal-assist. Then there’s also the matter of the frames, where you have manufacturers going for a MC/MX aesthetic, stripping away as much of the bicycle componentry as possible, while others stay true to more classic bicycle designs. These differences complicate the definition of an e-bike, blurring the lines between bicycles, mopeds, and motorcycles. As a result, what qualifies as a “bicycle” in one country might not in another. Whenever I hear someone tell me, “But an e-bike is just an bicycle with a motor”, I do think to myself… Well, a bicycle is by definition, at its core, an organically driven thing. The very essence of the design is that it is a human powered vehicle, a reliable mechanical extension of the human output. Once you blur those lines, you start to strip away the identity of a vehicle which has transformed the world in such a positive way.

    But surely it can’t all be negative, right? As far as I am concerned we are trying hard to come up with more coherent regulation and classification – which hopefully over the years can make up somewhat of a global or semi-global consensus. Because right now it does seem like a bit of a free for all, with people producing very different products under the guise that it is merely a bicycle with a motor. I find it very funny that someone could buy a pedal kit for their Surron e-bike and suddenly the classifications become absolutely pointless and it is now a road legal electric franken-bicycle. Basically, better distinction between the various offerings on the market is needed. But I think either way we will have to accept that due to the somewhat overlapping nature of these electric vehicles, a better system would be one that separates it fully from the world of non-motorised vehicles. Sure, you can have your pedal operated e-bike, and you can have your throttle operated e-bike. But they don’t need comparison with my human powered steeds.

    I get that it may seem sort of pedantic, what I am saying. Why does it really matter? It’s not like e-bikes are stopping me from riding my bicycles. That’s true, of course. But the very nature of the marketing of e-bikes, is that they are bicycle v2.0. They’re the upgraded, get with the times grandpa, answer to the awful struggle of having to contend with just your legs. They’re not merely the supposed alternative to a car, but also the alternative to the lowly pushbike. And this is something that makes me very sad. We live in a world where disposability is something that we see as part and parcel of modern living, we unashamedly accept that we’ve now reached such a level of production, that we don’t expect things to last and if it fails, we expect a replacement. This is something that is very integral to the booming e-bike business, which has very little stake in longevity and sustainability. I’m not going to get into the matters of production, obviously e-bike production is resource intensive, but the cycling industry as a whole isn’t great either when it comes to mass production and disposability. But instead I want to touch on the lifespan and the serviceability of e-bikes, which I think is where we start to see real distinction. We already know that the push towards electric technology in bicycle componentry has impacted serviceability, bike mechanics end up having to do replacements rather than repairs, in contrast to a mechanically actuated component. Even if you wanted to attempt to do a repair, you often cannot due to warranty voiding, liability, as these electronic gubbins are often highly proprietary and closed source, many of them likely not designed to be repairable. This of course can be directly translated over into the world of e-bikes. Motors do fail for a multitude of reasons, particularly on cheaper models you see insufficient weatherproofing messing with both battery and motor. And for the more higher end stuff, you’re still on borrowed time as there’s a finiteness to a motorised, battery driven vehicle. Also, any electrical product has a higher chance of a sudden freak failure than a mechanical setup. In any of these instances, there isn’t really much a bicycle mechanic can do, because they’re simply not capable of fixing it or allowed to even if they were capable. This means discarding and replacing, to a much higher degree, than we would for an ordinary pushbike. And let’s not forget that what we are throwing away had to go through more intensive and harmful production than its mechanical counterpart.

    Also, what about forced obsoletion? Considering technology that we use in our day to day, such as computers, phones, televisions and even convenience appliances get a shorter and shorter lifespan, is it any surprise if e-bikes go down the same route? I’d think not. There’s already e-bikers talking about this, realising that after a few years, they now own a bike which has no replacement batteries available, or their proprietary charging cable has been discontinued. Before you know it, you are faced with the issue of either having to do a potentially risky modification to the electronics, to run third party, or getting the newest and the best, fresh from the production line. Cycling already has an issue with proprietary standards, and cross compatibility remains a pipedream. But with e-bikes, we’re taking it one step further, extending it to the entire bicycle, because without the motor and battery – what is an e-bike? A very heavy paperweight. Once its electrical guts kick the bucket, you’re left with a useless frame, most likely designed with a particular brand’s gizmos in mind, so good luck repurposing it. I am aware that bikes which were sold with hub motors don’t quite fit in here, but I also think that as a whole the industry is moving away from that, realising that electric specific frames are the way to go. Mid-drive seems to be the golden standard, and so I’ve not taken conversions and hub motors into consideration. I actually think there are more redeeming things to say about hub motor kits and mid-drive kits, which allow you to take your ordinary bicycle frame and “electrify” it, with a plethora of third party parts available for repairs, also allowing you to tailor the bike to your needs. And the process is of course reversible. But as that is the more specialist option, I won’t go further into e-bike conversions. Also, though I think they make better sense, they’re not exempt from the same critiques, in terms of longevity and disposability. I suppose we can do a quick summary now. E-bikes do not last as long as actual bicycles and aren’t as serviceable, and when they go to the knackers yard, they are also less recyclable due to their complex production.

    I know this comes across awfully one-sided. But I honestly have a hard time seeing e-bikes as even remotely comparable to a bicycle. When I cycle around, I see people on bicycles they’ve had for decades. Many of them visibly neglected and abused, yet they’re still out there serving a purpose. Getting someone to and from work, going shopping or enjoying a nice ride round town with their loved ones. An e-bike cannot offer that level of futureproofing, which shouldn’t sit well with anyone, considering the huge financial outlay required, not even taking into account the inevitable money you’ll have to chuck after batteries and servicing. So, you see, this is why I object so strongly to e-bikes being compared to bicycles. Because it compares apples to oranges, it trivialises the humble push bike which, for over 100 years, has merged human energy and mechanical ingenuity, to make a low impact way of exploring the world around us. We mustn’t allow further complication of what is a reliably simple, beautiful thing. A bicycle does not need charging.

    So, e-bikes aren’t bicycles. But if I zoom out and I look at it from a bigger perspective, I think bicyclists should stand in solidarity with e-biking folks. Especially those who decide to leave the car at home to go ride one. We should all be supportive of people picking one of the less noisy and destructive options of motorised vehicles. I don’t like mopeds very much, noisy and smelly. Motorcycles are even noisier and smellier than mopeds. Cars are metal death crates. Did I mention they’re smelly too? If someone rides an e-bike around instead, responsibly, then they get a hell yeah from me. I would be all for people replacing their petrol and diesel guzzling machinery with electric bikes, but I think the reality is that very few, if any, do that. The e-bike isn’t so much an alternative as a supplement, which makes people who care obsessively about co2 footprints very happy. They keep saying how if they just take the e-bike once a week it means so and so much reduction of x y z… Yeah, but what I really care about is one less car on the road – so let’s find ways to make the e-bikes attractive enough to be either a full time or almost full time replacement to a gasguzzler. It’s not that I think electric vehicles will save the world or anything like that, I’m pretty sure we’re past that point, but if it means less congestion, noise, smell and accidents – sign me up! It could result in a reform of our modern car-obsessed infrastructure, to include more green spaces, making room for nature once more. But that’s me projecting I think. Anyway, I see a lot of elderly people getting out and about on their e-bikes, and families using electric cargo bikes to do the shopping and pick up children. And if the convenience of a motor assist is what it took to get them to leave the car at home, then I think every cyclist should be supportive. We can even pretend they’re one of us, while secretly, behind their back, giggle about how their electric moped likely won’t survive the downpour tonight.

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  • Alternative Nexus 3 shifting options

    It is a well established fact that I am a shill for one particular branch of Shimano products. Namely the Nexus range. I have a deep love of these utilitarian, low budget hubs which has been stock offerings on pretty much every Scandinavian commuter I’ve ever owned. As such I get very excited whenever I see a mention of someone wanting to try them out on a bicycle that doesn’t quite conform to the typical “city bike” niche that the Nexus range has claimed. And there’s of course no reason why you shouldn’t pop a lovely 3 speed hub on your road bike or mountain bike. Or is there? Obviously there are some people who see Nexus hubs as disposable low end tat, and therefor wouldn’t put it on their bike. Those I can’t cure. But I think there’s another group of people, who likely would take the leap – if it wasn’t for this culprit;

    Because if there is one type of shifter that has divided the waters more than anything, it is of course the gripshifter. They can be bulky, not always super ergonomic and lack versatility in terms of fitting.

    A good example of this dilemma is if you want to use road type handlebars, which have a wider grip clamp diameter (23.8mm, they’re usually wrapped with bar cloth or tape) and as such you cannot fit the Nexus 3 gripshifter because it requires a standard 22mm grip diameter. You could go ahead and use something like a Hubbub adapter, which is essentially just a bar end plug that provides you with a clampable 22mm diameter tube for the gripshifter. It is not for everyone, though, as it isn’t the most aesthetically pleasing and the ergonomics of shifting are completely ruined.

    hubbub adapter with a gripshifter attached

    But let’s say you’re not on a road bike and don’t use road type handlebars, you’d be fine right? Not necessarily. You may run into issues with grip area not being long enough to accommodate the bulky gripshifter, or maybe the handlebar has curves and is backswept, and that results in fiddly or impossible fitting of the shifter.

    And last but not least, you have the people that just absolutely cannot stand gripshifters. Personally I think the “RevoShift” model by Shimano is the finest range of gripshifters ever made. But I can totally see how they’re not right for every application. Also, we’re all different – what works for you might not work for me. But I do believe I have the solution to this most dire problem. Not even the finest astrophysicists or most out of the box thinking philosophers could conjure up what I’m about to tell you. Just kidding.

    After a very lacklustre drumroll, I can tell you that the solution is a thumbshifter. You can technically use almost any thumbshifter, because of the very simple workings of a 3 speed hub. Basically, we can break it down like this. We have our first gear, which is when there’s no tension on the cable. Then we have our third gear, which is cable taught. That leaves us with our one remaining gear, the direct drive, which is the second gear. That one is a crucial indexed position, and it is what we use to ensure that our bellcrank is correctly adjusted. What this means is that we can really overshoot our 3rd slightly, and as long as we consistently dial in that second, we’re good!

    So, what we have to look for is a shifter with an indexing plate that has 3 positions, like for example, the ones that you use for a classic 3x front mech setup. Alternatively we can use one designed for another 3 speed IGH, like an old Torpedo Dreigang thumbshifter, or a Sturmey Archer one. The only thing that is crucial is that we can get that direct drive gear dialed in. Look around and see what you’ve got, the installation is really identical to stock with a gripshifter. Just install the cable into the thumb shifter, shift into the second gear on the shifter, then line up the yellow line in the bellcrank window and clamp the cable. Shift a few times and adjust with the barrel adjuster, repeating until it remains indexed in the direct drive (2) gear. Job done!

    Now, not all shifters will be an ideal candidate for this. I have had varied experiences mix and matching, but I think most can be bodged into working – let’s not forget that people used to friction shift their old 3 speeds. I believe the late, great Sheldon Brown did that. But I would not recommend friction shifting, as it leaves too much room for error, and is likely to cause premature wear and tear to the internals. The safest bet would be to find something that is relatively close in cable pull ratio to the Nexus 3 and use that. So, that became my quest. I googled around for a while and eventually stumbled over a forum post, which mentions a certain Sturmey Archer thumbie model. Not only is it supposedly similar in cable pull to a Nexus 3 shifter, but it looks fantastic. The user reported having run it long term with no issues – even taking apart the hub to inspect. It is very versatile, being a screw-on type for downtube braze ons. Comes in two versions, bar end plug and flatbar clamp. As mentioned, can be unscrewed and popped on the downtube as well. Here it is, the Sturmey Archer SLS30:

    I went for the bar end type, as I wanted to fit this to my moustache bars (23.8mm) on the Dawes. I have been using it for a little over half a year and have drawn the same conclusion as the user on that forum, it seems to be perfectly useable with a Nexus 3, though not officially compatible. Stays in adjustment, shifts as cleanly as the stock gripshifter and is far more classy looking. Here’s my Dawes Galaxy with the SLS30 fitted.

    One thing I noticed about the SLS30 shifter, is that once you get to the 3rd position, there’s actually a bit of extra movement available, where it functions more as a friction shifter. I do not know if this is intentional, but either way it is actually a rather neat little feature as it allows you to pull a bit more cable for that 3rd gear, if the shifter is undershooting it. This makes it even more adaptable. Now I should add that I cannot find any actual specs from Sturmey Archer, and that’s why I haven’t included a cable pull comparison. A reviewer on SJS Cycles says that this works with Sachs too. Which sort of just confirms what I mentioned earlier, that cable pull isn’t the most crucial thing on a 3 speed gear hub, due to their simple nature. Nexus hubs are a fair bit more overengineered than their Sturmey Archer and SRAM counterparts, though, so time will tell whether or not this is a long term solution – but thus far I am happy with it. I will likely disassemble the hub come spring, next year, and inspect for excessive wear. But there you go, the solution to the IGH gripshifting woes, a sexy little thumbie which won’t mess with your Rivendell-esque aesthetic, hehe!

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  • Re-visiting the 3×1 drivetrain

    Recently I’ve been seeing a few posts here and there about these rather fringe drivetrains. I think they’ve become more common in the last 5 years, the so called 3×1 or 2×1. I remember going down the rabbit hole about them years ago. They’re by no means a new thing, I remember people, going back over a decade, talking about setups like this on MTBR and various other bike forums. It was usually brought up in relation to someone riding singlespeed, who then decided that they’d actually like just one more gear… or two… or three. And that always made me chuckle, when people suggest that it is an alternative to riding singlespeed, or worse, a more advanced and capable variation on a singlespeed bicycle. So, that’s what we will be exploring in this post.

    For a long time most of my bicycles were exclusively singlespeed. I admit bluntly that a big part of the reason was that I was rather lazy and hated anything to do with drivetrain maintenance and adjustment. I thought it was a waste of time and I seemed to be pretty happy mashing away at the pedals. I feel that there is an intrinsic beauty to a singlespeed bicycle. The clean look and knowing that it’ll just keep on working no matter what you throw at it. It became a bit of a ritual at that point, to obtain a new (old) bike and instantly rip off anything to do with the gearing. But there’s a crucial thing to recognise in what I just said there. I removed parts to realise a singlespeed bicycle.

    See what I am getting at? If you’re putting parts on which were required for a geared bike to function, and you add one or two more gears, well… You’re running a multi-geared bicycle! One could argue that, if the frame had vertical dropouts, it would be running a tensioner anyway – and how far removed is a tensioner from a derailleur really? Not very. So, yes, I can see how that could lead to a natural decision to go, “Well, might as well”, and add a front derailleur into the mix. And suddenly you’ve got a stripped down multi-geared pseudo-singlespeed bicycle which has none of the range with all of the problems of a fully geared bicycle. You’ve got two components that can fail and you still need to mess with cabling to shift that front mech, how’s that for a robust, low maintenance “singlespeed drive train”? I am aware that in saying this I am kind of throwing singlespeeding brothers and sisters with their tensioners under the bus. But I think we have to realise that running a tensioner is a bit bodgy and the ideal will always be track ends/horizontal dropouts or an eccentric bottom bracket/hub. The tensioner is just another potential point of failure, and if you’re riding in tall shrubbery and mucky terrain you’ll soon realise it is almost as prone to clogging up or snagging as a classic derailleur. That said a singlespeed bike, with a tensioner, is of course still singlespeed. It doesn’t shift and therefor wear less, resulting in lower maintenance and cheaper consumables.

    So, where does this leave us in regards to the fabled 3×1? I wanted some first hand experience, and took to building one again. I perused my wide selection of willing victims, and decided that the Scott Untitrack DH frameset, which I was given for free, would be a perfect candidate. Few random throwaway bits, a cheap Chinese “Tanke” tensioner and ta-da! A pretty fun little machine for almost zero outlay. I certainly don’t ride it as I would a singlespeed or an internally geared bicycle, as I still need to mind the tensioner and occasionally make adjustments to the front mech. As mentioned earlier – it is a pretty much just a very primitive iteration of my other geared bicycles, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.

    The main benefit of a 3×1 is that I only have to contend with one shifter to get a useable range which is vaguely reminiscent of my 3 speed internal gear hubs. It is also lower maintenance as the rear doesn’t shift, there’s no cassette to grind down, and single cogs cost nowt and last practically forever. A front mech isn’t very prone to failure, sees less wear than a rear derailleur and is inexpensive to replace. And of course I’ve got no end of cheap triple cranks laying about so I’m sorted in that regard too. As such I do see it as a lesser chore than maintaining a classic 3×7, but it can’t hold a candle to the low maintenance and reliability of a singlespeed drivetrain or an internal gear hub. So, that remains my main gripe, people pretending these setups could be a singlespeeding alternative. So, from here on in I’ll just bluntly denounce this as any sort of alternative, and instead approach it as a more barebones externally geared bike. Anyway, adding to my earlier point on consumables, I opted for the cheapest 7/8 speed chains available, and in combination with a friction shifter, I don’t see myself replacing the cable or housing for the front mech anytime soon. I actually reused an old worn cable and housing, because the front mech is not a fine tuned instrument. It’s one step removed from using your big ol’ thumbs to slide that chain over. But all things considered, there’s probably no real cost savings to be made here. Older 7/8 speed drivetrains generally don’t wear that fast and the parts go for chip money. But at least it’s a bit less maintenance, right?…….right?

    As you can tell, I reserve a level of skepticism. But I also think alternative drivetrains are important to talk about. Because it does seem like people are becoming more interested in having less gears, realising that perhaps the number war is futile. Maybe what we need isn’t always more gears, maybe we need gears that work specifically for us. I personally love having fewer gears with large jumps, most likely a side effect of riding my 3 speed internal gear hubs a lot, and so the 3×1 ticks a box. It is less cluttered and gives a sufficient range for my kind of riding. I know that some people go even further, and add a cog or two in the rear, and shift it using the barrel adjuster or by limit screws. I have a lot of time for that, because finding gear combinations that work perfectly for you goes a long way in increasing riding pleasure. I have mentioned in other posts that I find a larger quantity of gears somewhat distracting. And so I can totally see the thinking behind stripping away what isn’t needed. I think it is just important to stay grounded and nuanced, as not to create this “best thing since sliced bread” mentality. And I must admit I do find it all a bit funny, as it is becoming clear to me that we are slowly re-inventing the wheel over and over again. It will not be long until someone tries to sell us a double crankset with a 3 speed cluster in the rear. 1930’s called. But hey… I love a 1/8 chain as much as the next man so bring it all back! The Cambio Corsa is next! (hint: sarcasm)

    Did have a certain level of charm, no?

    Speaking of double cranksets, I really don’t get the appeal of 2×1. If you’re going to the trouble of using a crank with multiple rings, setting up a front derailleur and using a tensioner – wouldn’t it make better sense to use a triple for a bit extra range, and enjoying more gradual jumps for an almost negligible amount of extra weight? I think so. But anyway, as we reach the final notes here, I am going to reflect on my experience thus far. I definitely think I will continue riding my 3×1 Unitrack, because it is fun and different. It lets a component, which is generally perceived as obsolete and clunky, shine. I think that’s neat. A front derailleur is perhaps the most primitive shifting mechanism, and to let it do the heavy lifting is a good testament to how beautifully simple a mechanically actuated bicycle really is. I think that in many ways the front derailleur is the component that deserves more credit, for not only does it just work – it is pretty much unbothered by anything you throw at it and can last a lifetime. And with just one rear cog to deal with, you don’t have to worry about cross chaining or finding the right combinations which is often when the front mech becomes a faff. See? Plenty of good things to say about this 3×1 malarkey. Just don’t go shifting that thing under load going uphill, crunch! That is a job for a rear derailleur. But seriously, 3×1 perfectly useable setup. Ideal for someone that wants to simplify their shifting. Maybe you want to focus less on shifting and more on riding, maybe you live in a place that doesn’t really warrant god knows how many gears. Maybe you’re just bored and have a mish mash of crusty parts and you fancy building something that requires the bare minimum.

    If you’re looking to do a conversion like this, I would recommend giving it a go first using that rear derailleur you likely already have lying about. Just dial in the limit screws to get it sitting near the middle of the freehub – may need to get longer screws, or clamp a piece of cable down and wind out the barrel adjuster. I would recommend keeping the cog relatively centered with the middle ring to give the crispest front shifting, but it’ll likely do OK with more inboard or outboard positions. Chainline is far more crucial with narrow modern chains, and their cassettes.

    Now if you’d prefer to have a dedicated tensioner, all you need to look for is a double pulley one as they usually have more sprung range to accommodate the gear jumps. You could probably use a sprung one-pulley tensioner for a 2x, but the double pulley type tends to hold the chain more securely and some of them are even decided to handle front shifting. Inspiration:

    Rohloff Tensioner
    Paul Components Melvin
    Tanke Tensioner
    Alfine CT-S500

    I was going to use my Alfine, but adjusting the chainline on that is daft, using washers. The same thing really goes for the Rohloff and Melvin tensioners, they rely on washers too – for the Melvin they go on the pivot point. The one I decided to use, the Tanke, which I got cheap on AliExpress, simply clamps unto a metal rod ala the classic Surly Singleator. I like this better for easy adjustment.

    Happy wrenching.

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  • The inevitable revival of the Friction Shifter?

    I think the best way to describe the cycling world at the moment is that it is “coming full circle”. To put it simply, as bike technology progresses at rapid paces, there comes a time of reflection. This leads to a return to older standards and designs, primarily on a grassroots level. And sometimes, rarely, do we see the industry taking notes. Now, if you follow any of the current crop of “alt cycling” enthusiasts, you will know that one phenomena which seems to be facing a revival at the minute is the friction shifter.

    Unveiling the relic

    If you’ve ridden any road bikes from before and up to the late 80’s, chances are you’ve been fairly intimate with one of these little levers. And perhaps you’ve even cursed them to hell, having fever dreams of just riding fixed instead. Because prior to the infiltration of convenient indexed shifting in the late 80’s and early 90’s, that is the best you had to content yourself with. For those unaware of what friction shifting is, it is essentially shifting without the clicks. We know that as we pull the cable, the derailleur moves. In our indexed world, the shifter determines how much cable it should pull “per click”, to shift the chain unto the next cog. With a friction shifter you do the job yourself, you simply pull the lever until it shifts unto the correct cog and then the position is held by the friction plate.

    To be completely honest, I think that in a world of fancy electronic shifted componentry, and narrow spaced 10/11/12 speed cassettes, it wouldn’t be far fetched to brand the humble friction shifter an archaic relic best suited for a spot in a hermetically sealed glass case. But yet here we are, in 2024, discussing it. Why so? Well, the main argument I see online is that it is the answer to the compatibility war. What I am referring to here is of course the compatibility cross brand and between various groupsets. This is something that has long been a problem of the cycling world, where for a long time the ability to mix and match to get something working together, in terms of 5/6/7/8/9 speed, was easily achieved provided you didn’t dare too much and tried the unholy SRAM/Shimano smoothie. Still to this day I know of people who are reluctant to venture into the realm of 10 speed – and 10 speed is by no means a younging.

    Is there something to it all or is it just hipster nonsense? Time to experiment

    So, is the problem of cross and backwards compatibility a good enough reason to do a spot of grave exhumation and bring out the old crusted friction shifters? I think so. I decided to explore this a while back, when I had a few bicycles I wanted to get working with a mix of componentry that frankly had some severe communication issues. One such example was using a 10-speed specific 105 derailleur on an eight speed freewheel. I opted for a relatively expensive, at least to me, Microshift thumbie. I did have some older ones laying about, but the build quality of the MicroShift ones looked a bit better and was informed that, if I were to shift clutched mech’s, I would need something that could hold well.

    Microshift Index/Friction switchable SL-M11 thumbie
    Old crusty SACHS Huret shifting a 10 speed 105 derailleur

    The setup was as simple as it could get. One of the beautiful things about a friction shifter is that it couldn’t care less about cable tension. This wasn’t so much an issue in the early days of indexing, by the way, but in modern times with the much narrower spaced cassettes with far more cogs, the adjustment becomes more important and it is far easier to get knocked out of whack. With a friction shifter, you clamp down that cable and go ride. If the cable is a wee bit on the slack slide, you just loose a bit of the lever range, but it’ll shift just fine. It did feel very rewarding to take something that, according to the spec sheets shouldn’t work together, and then see it shifting like butter. That said it does take a bit of getting used to, and you need to listen to the bike to find out when you’re perfectly in gear – but after a few rides the “positions” become almost second nature.

    So far so good… But how well does it work the other way around?

    Good first impressions really, and it made me want to explore a bit further. I obtained another MicroShift thumbie for my 11 speed 1x drivetrain, one of them proper dinner plate setups that I installed on my Cross Check a while back. I was quite attracted to the index/friction switch modes. Sadly, after running the 1×11 setup in friction mode for a bit, I quickly concluded that it wasn’t for me. My initial thoughts going into it was that the clutched mech would be the problem, as the clutch mechanism puts more tension on the whole derailleur and so there’s an increased risk of slippage using friction and it takes more force to actually shift it. But that wasn’t the problem. It actually shifted fine and was perfectly usable, but also more fiddly than my experience with the wider gapped 7/8 speed cassettes and freewheels. With the lesser speeds, due to the wider jumps, you get a better sense of when it is in gear and you have more room for error. The opposite was true for the 11 speed cassette, where a tiny bit of movement in the lever could cause it to jump too far and the risk of it sitting, sort of grinding on one of the neighbouring cogs, was higher. I still think it is an amazing little feature to have, to be able to go into friction mode, should you be in a situation where you are riding in horrendous conditions with a worn cable and do not have the time for any roadside tinkering. But I do not think friction in the realm of 10/11/12 makes for a very enjoyable experience. I have seen people on forums that swear it works just fine for them, so it could be a matter of getting used to it. I got put off as it did not feel as instinctively right.

    The previous setup, easily swappable between index/friction mode
    Run index mode here. I am not keen on using it as a thumb-actuated lever near the grip, probably due to my small fingers. I have since popped it on the downtube as seen above.

    On the flip side, I found that using these derailleurs designed for modern groupsets on older setups was perfect – if not preferable. I love modern GRX/Deore, aesthetically and function wise, especially the clutch feature is something I cherish now. Good luck finding a solid clutched mech that’ll work for your older pre-9 speed bikes. Well, I say that, but you could always get the Sunrace RDM900 which is a very low cost, wide range rear derailleur with a clutch designed for 9 speed. But anyway, that’s beside the point. With friction you open up a whole new world of experimentation, and I think it makes it worth it. Using my RX400 derailleur on a 7-speed freewheel works beautifully, using a 9 speed chain which gives sufficient clearance inside the mech cage while also offering sufficient width to prevent pinching the chain between the 7-speed cogs.

    7 speed freewheel shifted by RX400 with a MicroShift thumbie

    Have I been convinced? (Spoiler: yes, and I’ll list a few more reasons why..)

    So, surely this would mean that I am officially Team Friction? (Please don’t get jerseys made, it’ll bring back the deep desire for me to obtain a Team Easy On jersey…. Danes will understand what I am on about)

    The answer to the above is yes. I have been buying more and more friction shifters and have found that even the cheapest, nastiest, most plasticky ones do the job rather sufficiently. One of my critiques was going to be that the good ones are awfully expensive, and… they are… but the cheapo jobbies do the job OK too. Either way it is a small price to pay to have the freedom to make just about any setup work. The main benefit of modern friction shifters is that they have a bit more pull to them, as they were designed to cover the range of bigger cassettes. If you use an older one you may not be able to cover all the range. But that’s okay, your knees just get tougher.

    Cheap gutrot plastic friction shifter from Shimano that does the job

    And if you’re not yet convinced, let me remind you that friction shifters also solve another problem which I know many people have. As we know, the 1x drivetrains have pretty much taken over at this point and I think one of the big reasons for that is that most consumers find the front derailleur a bit of a fiddly fucker. I won’t disagree, because for a long time I refused to run anything but 1x – 1×6, 1×7, 1×8, 1×9 – you name it! And my reasoning was quite simply that I could not be bothered with a front derailleur. It always managed to grind, making a proper racket, and the supposed fix was these micro-adjustable shifters with a bunch of tiny indexed positions to trim the mech. I never liked that. Friction is the answer to that conundrum as well, as it makes for a very smooth shifting experience with a very accurate trimming function.

    All in all, there’s so many benefits to friction shifting – particularly if you are running a mish mash of older 80’s and 90’s components and want to modernise a bit. There are of course some negatives, there’s a bigger learning curve until you get into the groove of it, and shifting under load does not feel as confidence inspiring as it does with indexing. You also do have to think more before you shift, and you will likely find yourself shifting less. This is good news for someone like me, who tends to mindlessly shift the more options I have. I don’t think friction shifting would appeal to cadence junkies who race and need everything to feel almost automated, but for touring and every day riding, there’s a bombproof reliability in a friction shifted setup. It does also give you a deeper connection to your bike, which may seem a bit like a bunch of wishy washy pocket philosophy, but I feel like I am truly in control of everything when I am friction shifting. I like having to hear and feel for when the chain is perfectly seated, and I enjoy doing an elegant sweep to my high gear as I reach the top of the hill. Very satisfying. Therefor I conclude, that not only is it perfect antidote to an increasedly convoluted and proprietary drivetrain industry, but is also gives you a newfound appreciation of just how simple and beautiful a mechanically shifted drivetrain really is. Just don’t make electronic friction shifters….

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  • Hello world!

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Meet Chris. A professional catdad riddled with bike hoarding disorder and compulsive wrenching disorder. I ride (poorly), build (badly) and try to document my doings to my best ability in the online realm.

On my website you will find my bike musings, build journals and resources that may be of use to you. Or maybe they’ll send you down a perilous path and leave you stranded in a knowledge vacuum. I know that I know nothing.. or whatever.

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