The Guildford Bike Project

Going back to my first ever post from the March last year, I described the three bikes I owned. What I hadn't included was that a week after that post, I'd bought up two more bikes.

The bike-doing-up bug had caught hold. 

Somehow, I'd decided I needed yet another bike to mess with. All this bike messinaboutin' was an experience, I'd convinced myself, and one that shouldn't be confined to just the bikes I wanted to ride around; buy cheap, tired old bikes with potential, renovate them, then sell them on whilst learning about how they work in the meantime. 
In fact, the original idea was to buy an old 'vintage' bike (cheap), then do it up (cheap), then start the Ebay bidding at the cost I bought the bike plus the cost of anything I'd added (new cables, brake pads etc). I didn't really care about making a profit, it was more about the experience of playing with old bikes I'd otherwise never own. 

A year later, I've still no idea whether this will pay off, as I er, haven't actually sold any yet...

Nope, the two bikes I just mentioned are about 6ft away from me as I type this. They are looking pretty swell though, albeit after some hefty transformation. My vision of a cheap bike renovation flew out the window about the same time money started leaving my account in lieu of new handlebars and tyres... OK so if they weren't going to be ultra cheap, they'd at least look the shit!!

I bought the bikes from the Ebay arm (naturally) of the Guildford Bike Project. The GBP are a great project that pick up donated, unwanted bikes from the local area and set to doing what I wanted to do but on a grander, more community focused scale; fix the bikes up so they run, then sell them on, whilst trying to teach people something about bike maintenance in the process. 
If I remember rightly, the people getting taught were part of a JobCentre or skills teaching program, whereby they'd learn how to fix and maintain the bikes which would then be sold on. The GBP also pop up at community events in and around Guildford through the year, servicing and selling bikes.
All in all it's a great scheme, especially as it promotes everyday cycling and a DIY skill, as well as providing a way to keep those barely-ridden Apollos and Carreras out of landfill.

I think they were still in their first year back in 2013, as I remember the guy running the show (John), being a little taken aback by the sheer number of bikes that were being donated; their pick-up van was always full, and they had container after container after container of bicycles to be dealt with. So much so that the older, 'vintage' 3 speeds (a completely different breed to the mountain bikes that made up the majority of those donated) were put to one side to be sold-as-seen on Ebay. This suited my needs down to the ground as it's near to my house, and I was even invited by John to bypass Ebay altogether and contact him when I'd renovated and sold the ones I'd just bought (something which I've still to do...). 

Anyway the bikes I bought were a black Halfords Commodore, and a champagne Raleigh Misty; both steel town bikes, both about 30-40 years old, and both in need of some TLC and wire wool (or in the Misty's case, brute force and a lot of leverage to prise the rusted parts off).

Halfords Commodore (1978 I think, if going by the Sturmey Archer hub)

Raleigh Misty mixte frame (the original listing said it was from 1983, but I've no idea where they got that from)

"Sold-as-seen" is always a gamble, but the Misty looked in such a sorry state when I turned up that I was starting to question my recent life choices. It was going to take more than a new set of cables to bring it back from the brink. 
And as much as I love the frames and certain aspects of the two bikes (like the Commodore's brass coloured mudguards, and the Misty's mixte frame shape), I thought the handlebar setups on both bikes were ugly as. The Commodore especially is a small bike to begin with; having such a short, Dutch-style stem meant you could practically steer with your knees! I guess this was about the time the "Cheap Bike Renovation: Exit this way" window started to open...

The Meathead so far

Moving on from the screwdriver related incident, I set to work on buying more stuff for my Meathead. It's a lot easier now to see what I'm trying to do, which is make to a fat mess; a cruisery monstrosity of a thing with custom built gear shifting, coaster brake, and no cables running across the frame (I want it to be bold and chunky, but tidy and stylish at the same time; like the Incredible Hulk if he got a really smart haircut).

Anyway, this is what it looks like so far:

Awwww yeaaaaaah

I found a Shimano SG7C-20 seven speed internal hub with coaster brake on Ebay, and ordered some Humpert Beach Cruiser handlebars, some cream-coloured BMX grips and a black and white vinyl banana seat (again from Ebay). 

Power shot from the floor to show off its mightiness

 I painted the outer housing of the 7sp hub black, along with some pair of rims I had originally from my work bike (Araya 26 x 1.5 single wall), then laced them up with the Quando front disc hub that came with the Meathead in the first place.

I flipped the bars to try a more 'boardtrack on steroids' thing, but I think having the grips so low might be uncomfortable

This pictures were taken November of last year, and the bike's been sat under my bed since because of other bike projects taking up my time and space. 

Loads of work to do still:

• Buy or make a sissy bar to support the back of the seat. I really like the idea of using shock absorbers and then some sort of pivot on the front, but I've no idea where to find such soft shocks from for cheap.
• Find a meaty looking single-ring crankset (Or find a triple-ring set, then make two chain guides to sit on either side).
• Fix the front disc brake. 
• Work out a setup for the gear changes, motorbike suicide lever style under the seat (maybe mounted to the V-brake boss?)
• Find some sexy-fat whitewall or cream balloon tyres.

So not much to do then, really... And that's after sorting out my road bike before spring, and also doing up an old BSA 3-speed that's been sat in my room since May of last year. Not much to do at all...

"Meathead meets a Meathead head to head"

Back to the ongoing fable of the Raleigh Meathead, our tale takes us back to February of last year...

After spending a lovely sunny day in an office, I couldn't wait to get some beer and sit out in the conservatory, spending the last hours of daylight taking the Raleigh to pieces. 
Walking the bike home last night helped me come to terms with the fact that the frame I loved was decked out in some pretty manky components; the wheels were mismatched and way out of true, the fork suspension was stodgy, and the front disc brake caliper didn't seem to want to grip the disc, no matter how much I pulled at the cable (I'm new to disc brakes and susp. forks by the way, but that was a good reason to get this bike). 

All a bit mingin'

Also the fact that the seatpost was well and truly stuck inside the seat tube was slowly eating away at the dreams I had had for this cruiser. 

Come out of there, you!

 There were a few OK parts on it though, that could be squirelled away in the box marked "Shit I don't need, but can't bring myself to throw away or sell Spares". A Shimano rear derailleur with hyuge jockey wheels, an OK looking front derraileur, and a 7 speed freewheel that looked hardly used.

Bonus Shimano drivetrain stuff in not bad nick

A quick and awkward tumble around the garden told me that yes, the wheels were definitely screwed, and no, the brakes did not work. And so, to tearing it to pieces.

Tub o' junk

 So with everything off the frame except the headset, I set to work on how I was going to remove the seatpost. The internet was full of suggestions for people in similar situations, but none were helpful given the tools I had to hand (basically I didn't have a blowtorch/heat gun to warm the frame up, and I had no idea what Plusgas was).

So ingenuity it was!! Couldn't let a degree in Product Design go to waste; I had to start thinking laterally. 

My inspiration

Uh oh! A stuck seatpost! A really stuck seatpost. We can't pull it out from the top, we can't heat up the sides and slide it out... We'll have to twat it with a hammer!!

The hole in the bottom bracket shell, leading to the seat tube

Through the hole in the bottom bracket shell, I figured I could take a long flathead screwdriver and a mallet, and gently tap the seatpost out from the bottom. 
Starting out was awkward, but eventually after intermittently measuring the distance from the top of the seat tube to the seat post, I realised it was working; the seatpost was coming out.

This picture now makes me wince...

IT'S WORKING! I'M A GENIUS!! AN INGENIUS GENIUS! I'M GONNA START A BLOG SO EVERYONE CAN SEE HOW SMART I AM AT FIXING BIKES!! BLOODY BRILLIANT!! FIRST THOUGH I'M GONNA EXCITEDLY TAKE THE FRAME OUT TO THE BACK GARDEN, LAY IT ON THE GRASS AND GIVE IT A RIGHT THUMP WITH THE MALLET TO HURRY THIS UP!! YAAAAAAY.

Now back to the start of this post, where I described how I went to get beer to aid me in the dismantling process... 
I wasn't drunk, but I do think a couple of beers may have robbed me of a bit of foresight when it came to this enthusiastic decision.  Slow and steady wins the race? Shut your face! It's late and I want to go to bloody bed!

Anyway as you may have guessed, thumping a screwdriver into an aluminium bike frame is exactly as stupid as it sounds, and lo, the screwdriver went through the frame.

"Blimey, this just got a bit difficult! The seatpost must be at a sticking point; I should hit it even harder!" - Gom

So now I have a rectangular hole, about 7mm across, in the seat tube of my frame. 
Structurally, I've no idea how bad this is. It looks bloody awful, and I'm assuming the bottom bracket shell is one of the biggest stress points on the frame; there's a pretty solid chance that I'll stand up on the pedals or go off a curb, and the whole frame will tear open like a tin can. 

Ah well though, live and learn (and curse and spit and froth at the mouth at my own stupidity a year on). I've decided to carry on building the cruiser bike that's in my head, and then ride the absolute shit out of it, hopefully to determine whether it's going to hold. 
The way this bike's going to be used (as said cruiser, with a very laid back position), I don't expect it to take a beating down a trail or whatnot, but I have to be sure.  
If it doesn't hold, I'll have to scrap the frame, but at least I'll have all the other parts, ready to go again. 
I'll probably have to consult some forums, but I'm also toying with the idea of drilling a hole slightly bigger than the rectangular hole that's there now (hear me out!). Hopefully a circular hole will mean the aluminium is less likely to tear open, as it could from the rectangle's corners; as far as I can tell, I think this is standard procedure for stress fractures in alu frames; drilling holes at the ends of the fractures to "nip it in the bud" as it were so the tear doesn't spread.
If anyone reading this has had any experience with something similar, I'd love your input on what to do now; I fear the overall call is "Sean, the frame cost you £6. Stop being an emotional tit and sling it.", but I just find the frame shape a bit too perfect for what I want to just throw it away and start back hunting on ebay. 

Oh, and by the way, I got the seatpost out. Every cloud and that...

So theoretically, my method was successful. Theoretically...

Right, let's try this again...

I started this about a year ago, and then promptly got bored and gave up. A lot has happened in the last year though; a butt load of bike parts have been bought, and a lot of messin' about has happened.

So I'm going to have another crack at this blog post lark, and try pick up where I left off...

The backstory to the crappiest bike I've ever bought

Right. The 2006 Raleigh Meathead backstory.

Late one night a few weeks ago, I found myself on a Japanese blog about custom bikes. No idea how I got there, but I was on it for HOURS. It's called No Future Tokyo and it is deeeeeeeelightful. It seems to centre around a skate shop, and a group of people who look like they're having so much bloody fun.
A lot of the posts boil down to pictures of bikes rigged up with banana seats. It's much more than that, but that's the general jist of most of the bikes pictured. 

Then I saw this post, and my mind flipped. My mind still flips. It's flipping right now. Just digging that link out of my bookmarks made me pause for a good minute. The shape of it is fan-bloody-tastic.

And thus, I ended up on eBay, looking for a Mama-Chari bike to mess with. 

Turns out they're just normal granny bikes (and dead hard to get hold of outside of Japan, not that you'd really want one - they're just normal granny bikes). The reason I love this bike is the angle of the headset and seat tube, and how low it all is because it's a ladies frame (aside from the stonking great handlebars and banana seat hanging over the back wheel, obviously).

And thus, I ended up on eBay, looking for ladies bikes to mess with. 

Somehow, I tripped up over the listing for the Raleigh Meathead I now own. It had everything I wanted in angles, and 'lowness', and the frame was chunky as balls.  That whole square tubing thing got me going a little bit. 

So, after a week of watching it, I finally won it for the outrageous sum of £6 (this is where I need to do a "shout out" to my mate Paddy, who slipped in a last minute bid for me as I was in a welding class). Granted, it cost me about 3 times that in public transport costs to go pick it up, but 600 pence is nothing to scoff at. 

26" wheel, 3 x 7sp "Jump Bike", with a disc brake on the front and a v-brake on the rear. Suspension forks and a threadless headset (which is fancy for a boy with two 20th century bikes).

Picked it up yesterday. As the seller said, the seatpost was stuck (how stuck, I'll get round to later).
Both wheels are buckled (or out of true by a mile), and the front was flat when I went to pick it up. The front cable disc-brake doesn't seem to work. The forks are crap. The pedals are plastic and crap. The chainring's so small compared to what I'm used to (why have a triple chainring if they're all dinky?!).

But it doesn't matter, it's all about the frame. The chunky-ass frame. So chunky I couldn't help but slap the flat box sides on the train home.

Maybe keep the forks and disc brake (providing I can fix them), but I've got high hopes for this bike. An internal gear hub with a great big oversized shifter, sweeping handlebars, and a banana seat are definites. We'll see how it goes.

Hello Hello

So in the past year, I realised I really, really enjoy messing about with bikes. It's something to do with the mechanical stuff, mixed in with the fact that everything's not hidden away; it's just there, ready to be messed with. Messin' and making something my own. I bloody love it.

I currently own 3 bikes: A '92 Marin Palisades Trail mountain bike; a '76 (or '77?) Viscount Indy 500 road bike; and an '06 Raleigh Meat Head (hunk of crap).
The Marin is my work bike and the reason I've become addicted to doing up bikes and messing about, whereas the road bike is for longer distances, and will always remain a traditional and classy machine. They're both works in progress but the final ideas are there now, and although I plan on keeping both for years, I know what they'll look like.

That's where the Raleigh's come in, and why this blog's getting started. I want to start doing up bikes and selling them, and this blog's my way of documenting the blimmin' anguish story of each bike before it goes back on eBay to fund the next project. A vicious circle covered in dirt and grime and grease and paint and lube, that you get to watch fall apart before your very monitor. 

Enjoy.