Fixed Gear Mercian, Freed and Re-Tyred

I've had a Mercian Vincitore since last Fall, riding it as a fixed gear fitted with 28mm Panaracer Pasela tires. Those tires are not known for their raciness, but honestly that suited me just fine, since my fixed gear riding style is best described as "pottering about." Still, eventually I got curious what this machine was capable of if fitted with faster road tires. I also wanted to feel what the bike was like to ride non-fixed. Now the Mercian sports 26mm Grand Bois Cerf tires and has temporarily been turned into a freewheel single speed.

The bike rides better than ever. The tires have a lighter feel to them and the ride quality - which I didn't think needed improving at all - is nonetheless improved. I should note that right now I have an old cheap flip-flop hub wheelset installed and not the nice Phil Wood wheelset we originally built it up with. This does not seem to make any difference. The bike feels as if I am riding on narrow balloon tires, with the speed and maneuverability of a fast roadbike.

"Freeing" the drivetrain changed the feel of the bike in several ways. It made me more aware of how responsive it is to pedaling efforts. It made me want to alter my positioning - namely to move the saddle back a bit and lower the handlebars. It also made me wish the bike had gears! I didn't miss them at all in fixed gear mode, but now the bike seems to "want" them. It's probably just because I have never ridden a non-fixed single speed roadbike before. It will be interesting to experience it this way for a bit. After that I will change it back to fixed. 

I will also be making some component changes in the coming year. The gearing has been lowered twice already and it's clear that it needs to be even lower to suit my pedaling style. The Campagnolo crankset makes that impossible, since the smallest available ring is 49t. I will replace the drivetrain with something that will afford a categorically lower gear. Also, now that the bike is no longer fixed, I realise that the (Veloce) brake calipers aren't just "a bit weak" as I thought before, but simply do not work here; I must have been compensating with my feet more than I realised. We will try replacing the brake pads, but I doubt that will make enough of a difference. A better solution seems to get a set of plain ol' Tektro medium reach calipers. The initial build was based on the parts that were available to me at the time more than anything, but I like to spin fast and I like brakes that work well, so the components will have to change.

I've enjoyed riding this bike tremendously over the past year and think it was the right choice for me for a fixed gear bike. I like the versatility and can see myself putting fenders and a rack on it in some distant future. In the nearer future, I am curious how a radically lowered gearing will affect my experience of the bike, in particular when I use it for recovery rides. I think it's the right way to go. 

Categories: fixed gear, mercian, tires

Riding a 1940s Mercian

One of my most vivid memories from Northern Ireland is standing outside Chris Sharp's house, staring at a dozen Mercian bicycles lined up on the front lawn. The rainbow of their frames stood out in vivid contrast to the wall of dark pine trees behind and the gray skies overhead.

Rain was coming down - slowly at first, then in earnest. Fog set in. As water dripped from the frames and a milky mist began to surround us, it looked as if someone had spilled tubes of paint onto the lawn. What a sight.

Since the time he was old enough to save up for his first roadbike, Chris Sharp has been accumulating Mercians. There is just something about them he enjoys and feels is special. A familiar story!

Several decades later, his Mercian collection includes road, touring and track bikes, a mixte, and several time trial machines, as well as catalogues and paraphernalia from the early days of the Mercian Cycles shop.

The magnificent spread I saw on the lawn was not his entire collection; there is more in storage and elsewhere. But it was nonetheless stunning and provided beautiful examples of the legendary machines throughout the years.

Chris Sharp's bikes do not get babied. They see rain, they are taken to events, they get ridden by him and others. Which did I want to ride? How about the earliest example, a machine from the 1940s? Never mind the downpour and the fog.

Considering that Mercian Cycles set up shop in 1946, seeing this early machine was rather exciting. Chris's brother Keith was curious to try it, though I was reluctant - imagine crashing something like this!

Though the exact year of the bicycle's production is unknown, most likely it is 1947. The paint and components are not original; the bike underwent several cosmetic changes in the course of its existence. The frame itself however has remained unaltered. Chris bought the bicycle in Derby, England - from Mercian Cycles directly when the shop was under its previous ownership. The current restoration was done by Mercian, and the build was done by Chris using vintage English components.

It is a shame that the original paint and decals could not be preserved. The original head badge would have looked like this.

But the original lugwork can still be admired.

I love the older fork crowns as well.

Though cosmetically battered over the years, the frame itself had remained in good condition and the restored bike is entirely ridable. 

Chris had it set up as a fixed gear for himself, but had put a freewheel on it to make it easier for others to test ride. The size is just about perfect for the Sharp brothers. 

Keith Sharp is a bicycle racer and rides mostly modern machines, though appreciates his brother's vintage collection. He had never ridden this particular Mercian before, but loved it when he tried it. "The ride quality! It is very comfortable, you really must ride it!" I confess that it took a bit of convincing to get me on this bike. It was too large for me and I was unsure that I'd be able to use the brake levers effectively. Also, it was raining! But finally, my curiosity to learn what one of the earliest Mercians ever made felt like on the road won over and I tried it.

Very glad I did - what a bicycle. Yes, there is something about the ride quality. A steady, comfortable and almost effortless ride, gliding over rough road surfaces and yearning for uphill stretches. The bike was surprisingly easy to maneuver despite being too large for me. Once I started riding it, I wanted to keep going. It also felt oddly similar to my own Mercian back home. It makes no sense to believe that there is a distinct ride quality associated with Mercians that spans decades of production, despite the generational change of builders and the use of different tubing and geometry. And yet the Mercian owners and collectors I've spoken to quietly believe this, while conceding that its unlikelihood. I do not plan to collect Mercian bicycles, but I enjoy learning about their history and interacting with their enthusiastic owners. It was a treat to ride a Mercian of 1940s vintage - one of the earliest made. More pictures here.

Categories: bike friends, Ireland, mercian, vintage

Clipless Pedals on a Fixed Gear

For the final phase of my transition to clipless pedals, I've now installed them on my fixed gear roadbike. I knew that clipless would be trickier on fixed gear than on a freewheel bike, since you have to clip in and out while continuing to turn the pedals. I expected to have two specific problems: getting my left foot clipped in once I got going (I start with the right), and unclipping. For obvious reasons, the latter one worried me especially: What if I could not unclip with the pedals revolving constantly?

Now that I've done it, my impressions of the whole process are different from what I'd imagined. Clipping in my left foot is not as tricky as I thought. Yes, the pedal keeps going. But at least I no longer have to fish around for a strap with my toe as it rotates. Instead I just hang on and keep pressing into it even if the cleat doesn't engage right away; eventually it does. And clipping out is fine. Some cyclists say that they can only unclip when the pedal is in a specific position, but I guess I have been spared that problem. Sure, some positions are more awkward than others, but I can still unclip from them. 

So that's the good news. The bad news, is that starting is surprisingly challenging. I guess I didn't think this part through very well ahead of time. On a freewheel bike I clip in my starting foot on the downstroke, then pull the pedal up to start. Within a fairly short amount of time, this process has already become automated. Of course on a fixed gear you can't pull the pedal up without lifting the rear wheel, which I've never managed to learn how to do. So when I try to start I nearly topple over, because I automatically try to pull up on the pedal and all this does is jerk the bike violently. It's kind of funny that I do this every time, even though I know that you can't pull up on the pedal in fixed gear. Habits form quickly!

Anyhow. So I am not quite there yet with clipless in fixed gear, but I am enjoying the challenge. I either need to learn how to quickly lift the rear wheel while pulling up on the pedal, or reprogram my brain to clip in my starting foot on the upstroke, the way I used to do with Power Grips. Suggestions from fixed gear cyclists most welcome. Is there a way to make this easier on myself?

Categories: clipless, fixed gear, mercian

Miss Mercian: Then and Now

One of the things I was very much looking forward to on my trip to New York last week, was visiting Justine of Midlife Cycling. Justine is a fascinating, generous and knowledgable person and we have lots to talk about outside the world of bicycles. But more pertinently to this blog, Justine is known for her small, exquisite collection of Mercians. And so I happily found myself in Astoria, Queens, in an apartment that was eerily similar to my own in its proportion of total living space to the space devoted to bikes. Nothing wrong with that at all.

When I first wrote about Justine and her Mercians two years ago, she had three of them - all custom made and painted the same stunning shade of "flip-flop purple green" (more on this later). One of these is a geared roadbike, the second is a fixed gear, and the third a Miss Mercian step-through. Subsequently, Justine unexpectedly acquired a fourth Mercian secondhand - an earlier Miss Mercian model, from an era when the design was still a classic mixte with twin lateral stays. Knowing this, I was looking forward to seeing the two generations of Miss Mercians side by side, and excited when Justine offered me to test ride both bicycles and compare my impressions. While her diamond frame bikes are too big for me, the lower step-over of the Miss Mercian frames enables me to try them.

Through the quiet streets of Astoria, we rode to the Socrates Sculpture Park to photograph the bicycles along the East River. The park is small, but very pleasant, with a cobblestone path along the water and views of Roosevelt Island and passing boats in background. It was a cold and windy morning, but at least the sun was out, bathing the bicycles in a golden light.

This is Justine's current production Miss Mercian, named Helene. My understanding is that Mercian switched to this frame style for their Miss Mercian model, because they only use Reynolds tubing and Reynolds stopped making the tubes suitable for classic mixtes a few years ago. I will be honest that I am not a fan of "angled step-through" frames. But the lugwork, the colour scheme, and Justine's very personal build make this bicycle rather charming.

One of my photographic goals for this bicycle was to capture the flip flop purple green finish in action. The beauty of this colour is hard to describe, but basically it's as it sounds: Under some lighting conditions it looks purple, under others it looks green. Seeing the colours change takes my breath away. Above I captured it in a very purple state, though usually it looks like a much more subdued silverfish lilac.

And here you can see what happens when the colour flips to green.

Neat, huh?

Flip-flopping in the sunlight! I love this colour and might have used it for my own bike were it not so distinctly Justinish in my mind. It is certainly one of the most unique paint finishes available. 

But all right, there is more to this bike than its paint colour. Like Justine's other custom Mercians, the frame is lugged and made of Reynolds 631 tubing.

Helene is set up with Porteur handlebars, inverse brake levers, bar-end shifters adapted as "thumbies," side pull brakes, pedals with classic toe cages, hammered fenders, rear rack, a Brooks saddle and a
Carradice saddlebag.

Justine rides this bicycle in her regular clothing - skirt, heels, the whole deal - and it is her fast, responsive commuter. The geometry, which Justine specified, is pretty tight and aggressive, and she likes it this way. For her this is an upright, but maneuverable and go-fast bike.

Justine lowered the saddle for me and switched out the pedals to platforms, so that I could comfortably ride the bike around the unfamiliar-to-me area. When I rode this bicycle, the geometry - not the frame style, but the angles and proportions - struck me as an exaggerated version of my Royal H. mixte. My positioning on the bike was very similar as well. Unfortunately the angled step-through frame and I did not get along when it came to mounting and dismounting the bike: I found the top tube too high for me to comfortably climb over and kept banging my knee. I was also a little uncomfortable with the amount of toe overlap, and between this and the high top tube I felt oddly trapped by the frame, as if everything was too tightly spaced. Of course this says more about the difference between my and Justine's geometry preferences than anything else, but I was a little nervous on this bike as I followed her up the winding bridge ramp to Roosevelt Island. I did not want to crash the bike or to knock it over while attempting to dismount. Thankfully, nothing of the sort happened and we had a nice ride with scenic water views. As we rode, I noticed that the frame flexed for me a bit more than I would have liked, which is odd because Justine describes it as stiff. The subjectivity of this sort of thing is amazing. 

Stranger still, is that Justine describes her older Miss Mercian as more flexible than the current model, whereas I found it to be stiffer. How can this be? Are we simply associating different sensations with the terms stiff and flexible? It's a mystery. 

The day did not warm up despite the sunshine, and even though I had donned every single pair of stockings I'd brought with me to New York (three pairs!) I was uncomfortably cold. Between this and having to be across town by early afternoon, our ride was not very long. Still, I feel that I got a fair sense of the difference between the two bicycles - although since both of these are custom bikes made for specific people, I am not sure how generalisable my impressions are to Miss Mercians at large.

Overall, I felt more comfortable on the older (1994) Miss Mercian - with its longer wheelbase, lower stand-over and greater toe clearance. I also preferred this bicycle's ride quality and handling, which to me felt a bit cushier and more stable. None of this necessarily has to do with the styles of the two frames; it is more about geometry really. Still, I lamented that Mercian no longer makes the classic twin stay mixte - it was oh so elegant.

Justine's 1994 Miss Mercian is named Vera, and the original owner ordered the frame in English Racing Green with gold lug outlines.

The Reynolds 531 frame was built for cantilever brakes, and eyelets for fenders and front and rear racks.

The cable routing is kind of interesting, integrating nicely with the twin lateral stays,

then "climbing" up the seat tube. I have never seen this kind of routing on a mixte before, but I think it works well.

One of the cool things Justine has got on this bicycle, is this green and gold crankset with built-in chain guard. I have never seen one like it before, and it certainly makes the bicycle stand out as her unique creation.

I tried the MKS Lambda pedals for the first time and liked them a lot, even though I did not think I would. They are grippy, and not as sharp as MKS touring pedals.

Justine set up the older Miss Mercian similarly to the newer one, but with a front rack in addition to the rear, a single instead of a double chainring, North Road handlebars instead of the Porteurs, and flat pedals. This bicycle is a little more upright and relaxed, and set up to carry more weight than its sportier room-mate.

Justine has been riding bicycles for decades as a messenger, racer, cyclotourist, commuter - you name it. And she has owned an untold number of bikes over this time (I believe the estimate she gave me was 60?... but no, that can't be right!) This makes it all the more fascinating, that all of her current bikes are from the same manufacturer. Is it the Reynolds 631 tubing Mercian uses that she finds so agreeable? The way they put together frames? Do their notions of optimal geometry agree with her own? Whatever the answer, Justine seems to know what she wants and she is happy with her choices.

Of course I am trying to convince her now that she also needs to add this bike to her Mercian collection, then let me test ride it extensively. Fingers crossed!

For the entire picture set, please see here. And I thank Justine profusely for allowing me to try her beautiful bikes!

Categories: bike friends, mercian, mixte, NYC, test rides, travel

Fiddling with Handlebar Height

I've been riding my fixed gear bike ("Mercy Anne") fairly regularly since we put it together in September. Not long rides, but frequent short rides. Unlike my geared roadbike, I never stopped riding the fixed gear over the winter. And of all my bicycles with drop bars, for whatever reason this one is the most ridable in regular clothing, so if I don't feel like wearing cycling clothes on a short ride I don't have to. I've even ridden it in skirts and semi-high heels a few times; it is surprisingly tame and versatile. 

Maybe it's because of that versatility that I find myself constantly fiddling with this bicycle's handlebar height. It's not that my positioning doesn't feel right, but more like all the positions feel equally right and I can't decide which one to settle on. When we first assembled the bike, I had the stem "slammed" and the bars considerably below the saddle. It felt perfectly comfortable, but over the winter I started riding in the city more and decided to experiment with being more upright. So I raised the bars to saddle height, and that felt great also. Then one day I lowered them again just for the heck of it, and that too felt good. 

Strange that on other bikes I feel a distinct "sweet spot" as far as handlebar height goes and on this one I do not. Not sure how many times I've raised and lowered the bars now thanks to the easy up/down adjustability of the threaded stem, but it's probably time to settle on one position and stop the madness. How do you decide on handlebar height, and do you tend to fiddle with it after the initial set-up?

Categories: fixed gear, handlebars, mercian

Leap of Faith

That extra day given to us by the leap year stirred up a storm of trouble. After a remarkably mild winter, we got snow on the last day of February and first day of March. Then overnight the temperature fell and this morning the roads are snow-encrusted still. Frustrating for someone who had a carefully crafted training plan for a difficult century ride at the end of the month. If this weather continues for the next couple of weeks, what then?

All kinds of thoughts are now racing through my mind: "I shouldn't have taken time off over the winter... I should have ridden on those days when it rained, 'cause at least it wasn't snowing... I should be riding on the trainer more... There is no way I will be ready at this rate..." Advice from others is so diverse that it's only making me anxious with uncertainty. Some seem confident that I can do the ride, others seem equally certain that I cannot. And that's just among those who know me in person. 

But pottering around my neighbourhood in the snow on a day I'd hoped to put in 50 miles, I realised that I need to let all of these worries go and just do the trip no matter what, ready or not. 

I am not downplaying the importance of training. I am also not ignoring the fact that proper training can make the difference between being able to complete a challenging ride and not. But in the past, being worried about this has kept me from doing a lot of things on the bike that in retrospect I wish I'd done sooner.

It took me two and a half years to work up the nerve to try a century. I got as far as 65 mile rides pretty easily, but just couldn't take that last step. I read articles about it, listened to advice, and the timing never seemed right. Then one day I just did it. The timing was not any more right than any other time, and I hadn't trained in the weeks leading up to it at all. But I took it easy and rode those 100 miles. 

I waited two years to join the local paceline rides, because I didn't feel ready. And it's true, I wasn't ready two years ago. But when I did finally get up the courage to try them, I wasn't ready either! I showed up, felt completely out of place, and struggled like I'd never struggled on a ride before. But I did it, and it changed me as a cyclist. I wish I'd tried it sooner, even if that meant failure.

It seems to me that we can't know where we stand unless we allow ourselves to experience failure, or come close to failure. Maybe the real benefit of the trip to Death Valley is that it will teach me about my limitations. Whether I get enough training or not, I will just have to deal with it instead of backing out or putting it off as I've done so many times before.

Categories: mercian, roadcycling, winter cycling

National Character

While many countries are rich in bicycle heritage, some have particularly strong associations with distinct styles of bikes: the Netherlands with the omafiets and the bakfiets, France with the mixte, porteur and randonneur, England with the roadster and the elaborately lugged "lightweight," Italy with the Frascona curve and the racing bike, the US with the cruiser and the mountain bike. Far from arbitrary, these connections can be revealing about the history and the cultural values of the country where each design developed, and this aspect is always interesting for me. 

Some connections are obvious, while others more subtle. Why for instance, did some countries (England, Holland) favour the loop frame design for step-through bicycles, while the swan frame is the dominant design in others (Sweden, Austria)? Did it have to do with women's fashions at the time these bicycles were developed? What accounts for the development of low trail vs mid/high-trail geometry and the tradition to carry luggage on the front vs on the rear? There is nothing I can think of that is country-specific that would explain this. And what about the early preference of derailleurs to internally geared hubs in France, even on city bicycles? Things like this are constantly going through my mind when I look at different bicycles and think about their history.

When it comes to building bicycles today, the national characteristics of a particular design continue to play a role, while also meshing with other traditions. European manufacturers have used American mountain bikes for inspiration. American builders and manufacturers have used Dutch bikes and French porteurs for inspiration. The end product inevitably reflects an interesting mix of historical traditions and cultural values.

As I was working on, then riding, and then writing about the Randonneur over the past 8 months, I keep thinking how interesting it was that this old French design is now thriving (relatively speaking of course) in the US, with fairly minor modifications from the original. I suppose it makes sense: There is lots of land here, lots of places to travel, and Americans value speed - hence the growing popularity of randonneuring. Add to that the custom bicycle boom, and suddenly American framebuilders - for whom only three years ago "clearance for wide tires" meant 28mm - are building 650Bx40mm bikes with elaborate custom racks and cantilever brake bosses - an entirely normal feature now thanks to the popularity of cyclocross. Since American culture is a mish-mash of other traditions, it seems only natural that US builders are inspired by French, or Italian, or Dutch bikes. But what about a country with a very distinct tradition of its own? Can you see a low trail randonneuring bicycle made by an English builder, or is that too strange? I've been discussing a possible project with Mercian Cycles, and if it works it could be interesting in that respect. The national character of bicycles is increasingly fluid and playful, and some traditions are kept alive through other countries' takes on them. 

Categories: framebuilding, mercian, Randonneur, Royal H