Specialized Sequoia 650b Conversion

This build began with a 1984 Specialized Sequoia frame set. These Japanese-built beauties combined elegant details, racing angles, and the utilitarian benefits of a sport-tourer: ample tire/fender clearance, fittings for three water-bottle cages and a sturdy rear rack. This one was modified to fit modern, recessed-nut brakes. It received a first-class powder coat + clear-coat (from Melrose Metal Finishing, of Oakland). The color is a slate grey with a delicate metallic flake. It looks great in natural light. Then I built the wheels by hand, from NOS Suntour XC Pro cartridge-bearing hubs and 32H Velocity Synergy rims, using double-butted spokes and brass nipples. Extra-long Rivendell Silver brake calipers provided the necessary reach as well as ample fender clearance. The original crankset received a new, extended gearing range, self-extracting bolts, and a thorough polishing. The rest of the friction-shifting 3x7 drivetrain was chosen with an eye toward durability and simplicity. A cockpit featuring Nitto "dreambars" and a tall Technomic stem allow for a comfortable riding position, and a new, custom-fitted VO Constructeur rack provides carrying capacity without interfering with fender clearance. The bars are finished with high-quality cloth wrap and hemp twine, under several layers of fresh shallac.

I initially used these chunky brake pads because they have the little bit of downward angle adjustment that I needed to reach the rims. Later I filed the slots of the brake arms to get that extra 1mm that I needed and then used the lower profile "road-style" brake shoes seen below. (Oh, and as you can see, the bike received a rack to so that I could stuff my frisbees into a pannier and go disc golfing in nearby Moraga, CA.)

This is probably my best wrap-n-twine job ever. It took ages to get right, but it was worth it.

And here she is with the 42mm Grand Bois Hetres that I test fitted. They only barely fit with the rear wheel pulled all the way back into the dropouts. They were rideable, but if the wheels had gone out of true, the tires and frame would have gotten real friendly. Boy did people like them, though. I got more comments and questions in two days than I've ever gotten on a tire.

'81 Fuji America

One of the most revered of the classic Fuji models, the America was produced for a decade or so, from the early '70s to the early '80s. From what I understand, it was marketed as a touring bike for the "discerning" (read: "spendthift") cyclist. (A 1980 Bicyling Magazine review cast it as a touring bike for wealthy roadies.) Fittingly, this one is set up with some of the best parts of the day: Suntour Superbe calipers, Cyclone derailleurs, Sugino Mighty Tour crankset, sealed bearing hubs, etc. While I would never take it touring--limited tire/fender clearance and short chain stays--it seems to me well suited for randonneur purposes--low trail geometry, sturdy wheels, a crankset that could easily be converted into a wide-range double.
This one received routine maintenance, new folding Pasela TG tires (700x28) and other comsumables, and Velo Orange hammered fenders (that barely fit). When the rear wheel proved to have a nasty hop that caused some annoying fender rub, I rebuilt it using a new Velocity Twin Hollow rim (which I picked up at Rivendell, after a short chat with GP about wheel building). The Twin Hollow has a very similar profile to the original Ukai and it builds up nicely.

Schwinn Voyageur SP

During the mid '80s, Schwinn made two full-on touring bicycles: the Voyageur and the Voyageur SP. As its name suggests, the SP model was constructed of high-end Columbus SP (and SL) tubing. It also generally featured a few more braze-ons and better componentry than the regular Voyageur model.

This '85 Voyageur SP frameset I received through a trade. It came to me in rough aesthetic condition: the paint had succumbed to some mysterious ailment whereby it had chipped off in dozens and dozens of tiny spots to reveal the white primer beneath. In effect, it looked like someone had ridden the bike through a puddle of white paint. In addition, the paint on the chromed fork had contracted a similar strain of leprosy and it was rapidly chipping away in larger chunks. Since the worst of it was on the fork crown, I initially tried just stripping the paint there by masking the rest and spraying on a light coat of aircraft stripper. Unfortunately, the stripper penetrated the masking tape and I ended up having to take all the paint off the fork. Fortunately, the chrome was in good shape and it came out nicely anyway. For the rest of the frame, I went with touch-up paint. This was a tedious process with mixed results. In certain lighting, the end product looked fine, but in bright light the color difference became more pronounced. Were I to do it over, I'd probably opt for a fresh powdercoat. That is, I've decided that touch-up paint on an old bike is the precise equivalent of a facelift for an aging spinster: not quite convincing and vaguely pathetic. On the other hand, a powder coat is more like a visit to a day spa and a new outfit off the clearance rack at Macy's: rejuvenating and tasteful if not quite lavish.

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Mustachioed Specialized Expo