Post #1978: Bike E Rehab, part 2

In which I construct a pannier rack for the back of the bike.  Only after which did I find out that this bike is dead.  Or maybe not.


Rear pannier mount for the BikeE

My wife and I own two BikeE’s.  These are semi-recumbent bikes that were popular (ish) about 25 years ago.

As part of this rehab process (Post #1976), I removed the wire baskets from both bikes, along with their under-seat mounts.  They never worked well.  And after a couple of decades, the rust adds nothing to their charm.

To replace those, on my BikeE, I mounted a far easier-to-use (and better-looking) set of cloth panniers across the tail of the bike frame.  As shown above.  (The product can be seen at this link, from Amazon.)

I bought a similar set for my wife’s BikeE.  Sort of a get-out-of-rehab present.  (Her bike is currently at the bike shop, for an overhaul of the 3-speed rear hub and other items.)

To hang those new cloth panniers on her bike, I need a rear rack.  Which basically no longer exists, for the BikeE.  Unobtainium, or close enough to it.

So I made one, like so:

This BikeE rear rack slides onto the aluminum-extrusion frame, behind the seat, to form a 6″ x 13″ shelf.  Tightening the bolts clamps it firmly to the frame.  (For those in-the-know, I may yet have to drill a clearance hole or two for the seat-limit rivet that’s part of the frame.)

This serves as the mount for the cloth panniers.  The panniers attach to this rear rack via Velcro straps fed through the polished metal strap-eyes screwed to the corners.

To keep the panniers off the rear wheel, I wove a 48″ bungee cord (green, above) between the rear arm of the bike and the rack.  This forms an elastic “V” on both sides.  The panniers rest against, and Velcro to, this “V”, instead of rubbing the rear tire.  In addition, the panniers themselves have a stiff back, as if from a thin sheet of plywood, which helps to keep them from the back tire.

Panniers in this position can’t stably hold as much weight as panniers mounted under the front seat.  But rear-mounted panniers on this bike are adequate for (e.g.) a bag of groceries.  And that’s about all I intend to use them for.

Here’s the rack, mounted and strung with a bungee.  And then in final form, with the panniers installed.

Addendum:  Preferred bungee routing shown below left, in torquoise.  In hindsight, the bungee is more effective at keeping the panniers away from the rear wheel when it is routed as shown below.  Just drill a couple of holes in the main plate to stick the metal bungee ends into, and pass the middle of the bungee around the front of the plastic rack.

(As a reminder, in the picture below, a shock absorber allows the gray swing arm and tire to move up-and-down relative to the blue frame/white rack.  That’s why any connection between the two must be flexible, and is among the many reasons why a normal bike rear rack will not work in this situation.)

Details of construction:  I made mine out of a 1/2″ thick piece of HDPE board, only because I had that sitting around.  It’s more-or-less a half-inch thick plastic cutting board.  Plywood would probably have been lighter. 

The top board is 6″ x  13″, sized to match the particular panniers I bought, plus an inch of length for mounting the strap eyes to either end of the board. 

Beneath that to board are two “rails”, each consisting of a “clamp” and a “spacer”.  The larger piece that clamps onto the bike is 1.5″ wide, and is the full 1/2″ thickness of the material I’m using.  The smaller “spacer” piece is about 3/4″ wide, and has been thinned down to about 5/16″ thickness, so that it is exactly as thick as the lip on the aluminum bike frame.   To keep them together, the spacer has been screwed to the clamp piece in a couple of places.

To assemble, mark lines on the top that are 1.25″ away from the center of the bicycle.  Drill them out to accept your hardware (1/4-20 bolts, in my case).  Put the bolts through the top, and place that on top of the bike frame by straddling the frame with those bolts.  Center the plastic top on the bike frame and clamp it down so that it can’t move.

Remove the bolts, hold one rail under the top, tight against the aluminum frame, and clamp that rail assembly to the bike rack top.  Then drill down through the empty bolt holes, into the immobilized rail assembly.  Run the bolts through top and rail on that side, loosely put on the nuts.  Do the same for the other side.

Tighten the bolts/nuts until the bike rack is clamped firmly to the aluminum bike frame.  For final assembly, it’s probably not a bad idea to use lockwashers, Locktite, doubling up the nuts, or similar, to keep the nuts from backing off the bolts.

It works, in the sense that I clamped it to my bike frame, and I couldn’t budge it.  I’m sure it’ll be adequate to handle the stress of 20 pounds of groceries in the panniers.

Not shown:  Cut a couple of slots in the end so you can route the bungee cord efficiently, as discussed above.  Any connection between the frame and the rear swing arm has to be flexible, because the swing arm/shock move relative to the frame, as the bike goes over bumps.  Hence the bungee cord.


I would put the cart before the horse, but the horse is dead.

The irony here is that about 30 minutes after I finished the above, I got an email from my local bike shop.  Said email telling me that the bike is dead.   My wife’s BikeE has a crack in the frame, where the suspension is attached.  And because of that, my local bike shop will not do any repairs on this bike.

And yet, there has been a crack in that location for a couple of decades or so.  The metal of the shock mount failed after just a few years.  When BikeE wouldn’t do anything about it, I made my own repair with a piece of angle iron and a U-bolt.  And continued to use the bike.  This repair transmits the stress from the shock to the frame, effectively bypassing the shock mounting.

The upshot is that tomorrow, I need to clarify what the reality of the putative death of my wife’s BikeE is.

Are we talking about the failure that occurred 20 years ago,  and the fix that has held up in the interim?  Or is this some new failure that I did not notice, despite turning the bike every-which-way as I (e.g.) changed tires and brakes, and lubed cables?

Is the bike unsafe for use, in the opinion of the repair guy? 

Or is this just a liability issue, same as you hear from car repair operations on YouTube.  Simply as a matter of corporate policy, do they not work on bikes with frame damage, for fear that something will go wrong down the road, and they would be held liable.

That’s one of those questions that I’m not sure I can get a straight answer to.  If the shop is afraid of the liability of working on a bike with frame damage, then they aren’t going to take on the liability of telling me the bike is OK to use.  So I’m not sure it’s even worth asking.

Oddly, if I’d stuck to the original plan, none of this would have come up.  At first, the plan was just to bring them the rear wheel for rebuild.  (In which case, this issue would never have arisen, because they’d never see the bike frame.)  I wonder if they’ll still rebuild the wheel/hub if I ask them to, as long as I take the rear wheel off the offending frame myself?

 


Conclusion:  The second greatest waste of time in the U.S.A. …

… is doing something really well, that doesn’t need to be done at all.

In effect, I may have just made that fancy new saddle for a dead horse.

Or maybe not.  If the issue is the decades-old damage, I think we’ll keep using the bike.  If the issue is something new, then I’m not sure what happens next.

Addendum, the next day:  It’s only temporary, unless it works.  The bike mechanic did, indeed, point to the nearly-20-year-old shock mount failure as the reason the bike was un-rideable.  He either missed (or dismissed) my 20-year-old expedient repair, using a U-bolt and a chunk of angle iron to transfer force from the bottom of the shock to the frame, effectively bypassing the shock mount.  Near as I can tell, a U-bolt of that size should have a breaking load somewhere around a ton, and so is adequate to support a rider.  

In any case, my temporary repair held up through years of riding, and nothing about it has changed.  I guess I proceed by going elsewhere to get the rear hub rebuilt.  

Post #1976: Bike E Rehab

As best my wife can recall, the last time she used that bike, my young daughter rode on the back.

Said daughter is turning 24 this year.

So it’s been sitting quite a while, unused, on our screen porch.

But with a little cleanup, new rubber all around, brake pads, a little WD-40, and chucking the moldy backpacks and rusty baskets, voilà:

Not bad for a bicycle that’s more than a quarter-century old.

Still funky after all these years.


While we’re at it.

The four most expensive words in repairs.

I knew that all the rubber items on the bike had to be replaced, just to get it back on the road.

Only after I got that done did all the other problems begin to surface. Problems that I’m going to have my local bike shop (Bikes@Vienna) fix.

Why don’t I fix the rest of the problems myself?  Here’s my answer:

Source:  BikeE riders’ group on Facebook.

Among the maintenance this bike needs is to have the three-speed axle pictured above taken apart, cleaned, lubed.  And then, most importantly, not merely put back together, but put back together correctly. 

I’m not up for rebuilding that.  Among other things, that particular three-speed rear hub is more-or-less a priceless family heirloom.  The manufacturer stopped making those hubs about 20 years ago.  New parts have been unavailable for a decade and a half now.  And it’s the only hub that will work with this bicycle without significant modification to the bike’s current setup.


This bike is so old …

that it predates e-bikes, that is, bikes powered by electricity.  Which makes the brand name — BikeE — a real handicap when it comes to looking for parts on the internet.  But circa 1998 or so, when this was sold, a) internet use by the general public was just a few years old, and b) nobody could possibly have guessed that they would ever make batteries energy-dense enough to be used to power bicycles.  Let alone cars.

…  that it came with an incandescent bike headlight powered by “C” cells.  Among the stuff that got packed away with the bike was a (then) top-of-the-line CatEye bike headlight.  Back in the day, they dealt with the inefficiency of incandescent light bulbs by using big batteries.  I can’t recall the last device I bought that used anything but AA or AAA (or even smaller) cells.

… that the company that made it went bankrupt more than 20 years ago.  Once upon a time, BikeE was the largest U.S. seller of recumbent bikes (per this reference).  But they went out of business abruptly in 2002, after some product recalls.

And yet, this bike remains a good design.  The big advantage of this bike is comfort.  It’s a semi-recumbent bike.  Sitting on it is about like sitting in a well-padded office chair.  Your butt is further cushioned by an air-shock suspension.  It is about as easy on your body as bicycling gets.

And most of the wear-and-tear parts remain available.   One of the joys of working on bicycles, as opposed to appliances, is that most of the parts are standardized and still available.  Everything on the bike frame was made to be replaced.  And everything can be replaced by anyone with an average aptitude for mechanical repairs, and a few simple hand tools.


Conclusion

My wife and I have owned a pair of BikeEs for a quarter-century now.

They seemed expensive at the time, but in hindsight, they were a good investment.  Cheaper than a heart attack, for sure.  I’ve used mine regularly, barring injuries, and it’s really the only consistent source of exercise I’ve had for the past quarter-century.

My wife’s BikeE, by contrast, got mothballed somewhere around 15 years ago.  Now she has decided to start riding again, and bringing that elderly bike back to road-worthy condition wasn’t that hard at all.

Now all I have to do is (have my bike shop) catch up on 25 year’s worth of deferred maintenance.