Some Bicycle Things I’m Stoked About On A Friday, August 22nd, 2025
Ugh. What’s your favourite large-medium or medium-large full finger glove with absolutely zero Velcro and thick enough palms that still feel super thin? I know, say what?
I’ve been wearing Chromag Habit gloves for years now. Lightweight, shockingly durable for how little material is happening and how I ride, and the mediums would ‘just fit’ when my hands are in a gripping the bar shape. No hot spots, folds, seams. Like they’re made for me.
Or, well, that was until a couple of weeks back. Now none of my gloves fit – I’m having some extra issues with my hands – and I’d be stoked for some recommendations from other folks who have relatively short-fingered mechanic’s hands.
I feel like I’ve been writing about my ArctuHawk Voyager a lot lately, and, well, it has been the mountain bike I’ve been riding the most this summer. FLT brazing on Chromag sliders, Cumberlandworx, Magura Gustav brakes. Anyway, today is more of the same as each section of SBTISAOAF is at least loosely related to the big steel beast.
Large Chromag Arcturian frame, 38mm stanchioned SR Suntour Durolux RC+, aluminum rims with an i40 front, 3″ Bontrager XR4 tires – front and rear, CushCore inserts {Trail rear / eMTB front}, steel WZRD SWRD bar, Magura Gustav brakes. Yeah, ‘The Beast’ is not an overstatement {for a hardtail with one gear}.
If You Can’t Ride From Home, Ride From Somewhere
I pedaled the beastly one-speed up to Fromme a couple of times this week, and here I’ll commiserate briefly with my friends trying to straddle the worlds of riding MTeeBs and also doing that purely-people-pedal-punching.
Climbing up that same asphalt and gravel grind on my 40c Amazing-Alvin-equipped V1 ATB is a comparatively dreamy experience. On a steeper grade, as long as I can keep the 45x18t turning, the SRT, and its 30c Michelin meats, basically floats uphill.
But the ArctuHawk Voyager with 14psi in that rear 3″ rubber takes a lot of willpower to keep spinning. Interestingly, once I’m on the trail, it trucks along pleasantly. Like Mischa T. Dog (RIP, you darling devil), the Arcturian simply hates running on pavement. It’s a trail beast through and through.
But wow, with traffic being traffic, am I ever stoked that, for whatever amount of sweat equity, riding from home is a realistic way for me to access trails. But it also reminds me that, some five, ten, fifteen minutes pedaling from most of the North Shore trailheads, there are many more chill parking opportunities. If you can’t ride from home, consider riding from somewhere.
Project 321 Green-on-Purple
Whether it’s checking out where Matias is going with his latest frames, parts, and accessories on Stridsland.com, or all the neat & nifty retro-mod ATB bikes happening on the Stridsland’gram, well, suffice it to say that I’m a fan of everything Stridsland.
And in the world of Stridsland, absolutely nothing grabs my attention like the retro revival of dank green meets ano-purple. It could be ‘Sea Cucumber‘ paint with purple accents, or it could be a beauty, ano-green meets ano-purple combo.
Anywho, it seems impossible to capture how cool this is in person {the soul of it just can’t be sucked into a digitial camera?} but one of the neat things about Project 321’s 6-lock system, and Project 321 in general, is the plethora of colour options for rotor mounting and end caps.
I’m not making any arguments that this is a performance improvement over ano-purple rotor mounting and black axle bits, or even that it’s universally tasteful, but the little bit of Stridsland-inspired ano-candy mixing puts a smile on my face.
I’m sure on some proper, damp, dank, dreary, North Shore morning, I’ll be able to capture my stoke just right. But, for now, here are a few photos to filter through your imagination.
Fresh Void Pins
Alt-bars with more backsweep, push-on grips, finding a new go-to-glove, I seem to exert, have exerted, more effort than the average cycling addict chasing down solutions for all the earned discomforts I have riding my bikes.
Elbows, forearms, wrists, and hands are routinely the focus, but my favourite thing about Outlier’s pedals – the Void or Pendulum – is how comfortable they are under my feet on long rides and hard rides. The giant hole, where other pedals have an axle, doesn’t make me ride further or faster, but unequivocally, I can go harder without hotspots.
From my favourite, general, premium pedal recommendations like the Wolf Tooth Waveform, NSBillet Daemon, and now the PNW Loam 2, to the much more carefully hedged preamble-packed acquired taste choices like the Pendulum and Ripsaw, I am putting together a MEATengines pedal compendium of sorts.
But for everything to be on the up-and-up, a couple of those pedals needed a bit of an overhaul in the name of fairness, and that included the Voids, which were both due for fresh bearings {based on Outlier’s expectations for low-wattage spinning} and replacement pins.
The pins in my Void pedals were a pre-production option that the Outlier folks were trying, so while I’ve been pedaling Pendulums with the stock pins, these have been my first couple of rides running the Voids with a factory pin setup. I couldn’t tell you if there is more grip than when my Voids were fresh, but compared to the number of bent and broken pins I was pedaling, they’re much improved now.
Stoked on the traction boost, and also stoked that even after I had to bend back or break several old pins to get them out, every single pedal thread on both sides was perfectly ready to accept freshies.
Three Bike Day
Tuesday was a rare and awesome three-bicycle day {I’m not one for cliffhangers, so it’s the only meaning of TBD I want to know about}. It feels like forever since JacAttack and I went on what used to be our regular Tuesday Pipeline rides, and it was a perfect day for it.
My riding, up and down, still isn’t where it was at six months ago, physically or psychologically, but I was moving along well and even rode most {not all} of the features I can usually {previously} put together. I’m being patient with myself, and we had a fantastic roll through the forest, so I’m prepared to ignore skipping the Scolio-Coaster and Andy’s’saurus if you are…
After our ride and coffee, I popped into home for a change of clothes, jumped on Steve’s Ruined Talbot, and pedaled over to Penny’s place to feed her wee beasties. I love riding the 1981 SRT, but I can sense the rain clouds on the horizon, and I’m going to park it for the ugly season. When the warm sun returns, it’ll be receiving fresh, faster, rubber {maybe black sidewalls this time?} and probably nothing else. Summer-only bikes are beautiful that way.
On my way back to base, I stopped at United Strangers, which is apparently the place to be these days {Claire says it’s because they’ve added real fruit ice cream}. First, I bumped into Cynthia & Gareth, a couple of the good folks from the NSMBA, who have been killing it with their communications turnaround.
Plus, hidden in plain sight, blending in with all the regular humans, semi-professional pretendgineer, shadowy bike industry cabal overseer, and 3D-printing enthusiast, always down for a friendly chat about two-wheeled fun, Brian Park of Pinkbike fame.
After way more catting and chatting time than I’d budgeted for, I hammered home, grabbed my Waltworks V1, and rolled out to meet Brixton Jim for a snack and a wobbly pop. One nice thing about being an old bike mechanic is that the new stories and the old stories are the same stories, so it’s quick and easy to catch up.
But if you also haven’t seen the Mitcham Mech for a while, there’s a Joe Plaskett lyric that’s relevant, Jimmie’s still Jimmie, and I’m still me. Still, stop by and say hi!
Anywho, three bikes in one day is a rad way to roll into the last days of August.
A Woman, And Her Dog
I’d been passed a few times already, pulling off to let folks motor by. All of them chatting and breathing easily, Vitamixing up the miles. Me struggling way too violently to turn a gear that’s really not that vicious. What can I say, Andrew-problems are prodigious these days.
Yeah, so. I was pulled over at the top of a steep pitch on the No Quarter climb, trying to put down a rapid revolt by a couple of my organs {specifically the ones for pumping air and blood}, when I was pleasantly passed by the first self-powered rider of the day. She was positively motoring, SMILING!, with a typical mountain biker’s motivation: “I have to keep up to my dog!“
There was nothing remarkable about her machine, a typical mid-weight {all} mountain bike, and as she spun by breezily, I’ll admit a moment’s jealousy and a day’s motivation. I haven’t been doing bigger climbs as much as usual, and it shows with every pedal stroke. There’s going to be a lot of night miles this fall and winter if I’m going to taste that side of climbing fitness again.
I’m going to taste that side of climbing fitness again.
The Death {or Dearth} Of Creaking
Finally, the Arcturian is silent. I removed the chain ring, cleaned it, greased it, reinstalled it, CLICK-CREAK. Removed the cranks again, greased everything. Bottom bracket {XTR PF92} feels awesome. I’ve installed countless HT2 Shimano cranksets. It’s a steel frame; this is not a creaky headset sending noise through the frame.
But finally, I found it. From deep within, not the chainring interface, but the direct mount retaining ring interface. I couldn’t even explain how dust and detritus can infiltrate that area, but the ArctuHawk Voyager can be pedal mashed without the hellish music of minutely moving mash & metals, and it’s a lovely feeling.
Single speeding ruins everything {except for all the other things that rigid forks ruin}, but it would appear that in this case, standing to deliver uphill momentum was only exasperating what nature had deposited deep in my drive system.
So there you go. Creaking solved, and the end of SBTISAOAF for this week.
Larry Talker Tunes
Oh, I had something solid for this week, but then Model-T fires in some BOC and, well, here’s what he has to say about that.
Okay, first, if you’re only hitting one song, I’m a sucker for the upbeat bad dreams of Nightmare Epiphany.
Model T Says:
Back digging through the Classic Rock pile this week and found another gem: Blue Oyster Cult, The Symbol Remains, 2020
Terrific album! It is well well-produced powerhouse for these master musicians. After almost nineteen years since BOC’s last album, I had forgotten what a great return to form this album was.
An hour long, it goes by fast. Long known for their variety of musical styles, even within the same song, every track tells a unique story: heavy metal, pop, funk, arena-style ballads, and a nod to the classic BOC of the 70s and 80s. It’s all here.
Wonderful guitars, catchy riffs, great songwriting, and memorable chorus lines. Check it out!
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