If there was a conversation going on near your cubicle where you overheard one person say, “just bring your bike to Tyson, he knows everything about bikes. He can totally fix it.” The person with said broken bike would be in for a surprise: I don’t know everything there is to know about bikes. I just like them a lot. Besides, being a bike nerd doesn’t require knowing how to repair everything on a bicycle.
The sad fact is, achieving bicycle perfection is a lot like achieving nirvana: even though you know that you’ll never get there, you must keep trying. Therein lies the motivation. There are still many things that escape my knowledge of bicycle repair: hydraulic disk brake bleeding is one, rebuilding suspension is another. Those have always felt a little too car-like for me, and thus I have tended to shy away from them. I will eventually get around to them one day as I did with wheel building.
Over the years, I have managed to accumulate quite a few extra bike parts. Among the detritus in my closet (I live in a studio apartment) were two old hubs. I acquired the old Shimano Parallax 110 (XT) front and DT Swiss Onyx 8/9/10 rear in a trade that I vaguely remember. They sat there, buried under the strata of my “collection” for years. That is, until another trade netted me a pair of NOS Araya CV-7 26-inch rims (single wall, but still nice). I was sure that I did not have a project that needed 26-inch wheels. I had just finished the pre-build of an old Bridgestone which had its own wheels already. So why would I even consider accepting some more rims?
The answer came to me, when, out of curiosity, I dug out the two hubs from under years of brake levers, cassettes, and spare tubes. I was actually wondering how many spoke holes these hubs had as I knew the Arayas were sporting 32 each.
I was in luck. Both the Parallax (new in box) and the Onyx (take-off) were 32-hole refugees from some distant past. I’ll bet you’re expecting me to describe how I would hold the take-off part in my hand, and in closed-eyed wonder, imagine all the miles traveled on the bike it used to be a part of. No. Hell no. Save that noise for art-gallery hipsters who’ve plenty of time between tattoos and artisnal wooden handlebar purchases. I need to learn how to build a damn bicycle wheel.
<goodoldays> When I was young, if there was something I wanted to learn about bicycle repair, I had to bother some grumpy old bicycle mechanic or buy a book. The interwebs and Google machines hadn’t been invented yet. So I have to say, this is a wonderful time to be alive. </goodoldays>.
I ordered some spokes and nipples, borrowed a friends truing stand and fired up a YouTube video on how to lace wheels. So how did I know which spokes and nipples to order, you ask? Well, since my hubs and rims were on the older side, I needed to find a good caliper and measure some stuff. The best site I found that explains this is Edd. They have easy-to-follow diagrams and a video about how to measure everything (spokes, nipples and rims) to get you the right spoke length. They also have a database of hubs and rims already in there in case you have a more modern set of wheel parts. DT Swiss is another great site to find a good spoke calculator as well (registration required).
As you may have seen in the picture above, I did make it all the way to lacing the wheel. It’s actually quite relaxing. I just kicked back on the couch, watched a little Parks and Recreation whilst lacing, consuming a beer in the process. The lacing is quite easy to understand. Given the pattern and where you start on the rim. It all just sort of falls into place. For me, the most difficult part is the tensioning and truing. By the great Beard of Zeus, I could not find a decent video tutorial on how to tackle this part. It’s probably the Google machine knowing I am a not-young fart and I don’t deserve to get my tutorials easily.