Hommage to 1034

For me, "1034" will always have a magical meaning. This was the product number for Campagnolo Record low flange road hubs. It's hard to imagine, especially as a wheel builder, a more perfect cycling component. Of course, they haven't been made for years and are entirely incompatible with today's 10 and 11 speed freehubs. But their beauty and reliability is timeless.

You can imagine my delight when Rick Mayer from Connecticut proposed sending a set of NOS 1034 hubs to be built on a pair of Ghisallo Corsa rims. What a great match that would make. And what surprise when I opened his box and found the hubs were truly new. They could be 30 years old but had never been built.

Little gems.

There was time when we handled so many of these, it was luxurious. I even have a collection of empty 1034 boxes. What am I thinking? Call me sentimental.

Collecting empty boxes??

Each box had a wax paper cover, a cardboard separator, and a classic onion skin drawing of the rear hub. Such presentation, such class. Of course, none of it would matter if the hubs didn't deliver awesome performance.

Special delivery.

The build went like a charm. Thin butted spokes slipped into position.



Nipples found their homes.

Light oil on the threads.

What a memorable pair. Weather permitting, they'll soon be fitted with tires and rolling briskly around the Connecticut countryside.

We're bedazzled.

Wheel Building Tip No. 10 - Using a Dishing Tool

[Note: this is #10 of a series of 20]

A craft can be fun owing to charming materials, a satisfying process, elegant tools, and a worthy product. Wheel building has all of these. And among tools, none is quite so effective and clever as a dishing tool. What could be as simple as the gentle arch with central indicator of this classic tool?

As many of you know, the arch locates like a diameter, its ends resting on opposite sides of the rim.

A beautiful Var #143 on a Ghisallo wood wheel.

The central indicator hovers over the hub, reaching down to just touch it. So adjusted, the tool can be lifted off and placed on the other side of the wheel. The wheel is perfectly centered if the tool fits it in the same way on both sides.

Be careful that the tool doesn't inadvertently touch a spoke. It's only meant to touch the rim and the hub dropout face.

Next to the spoke is OK.

The wheel is out of center if either one of the arch ends doesn't touch the rim.

Gap at the rim.

Or if the center indicator doesn't reach the hub.

Gap at the hub.

Anyone with tool and wheel in hand can see the asymmetry and deduce how to change the relative positions of the hub or rim by tightening or loosening spokes.

Key points:

(1) The utter simplicity of the display. It takes no training, no dials or scales, no accurate features. The arch could be made of crooked driftwood. The center indicator could be a tongue depressor pivoting on a thumbtack. No problem, because the tool moves from one side to the other. The readout is comparative, so the tool needs no marks, measures, or symmetry to tell its story.

(2) The actual centerline error of a wheel is magnified, offering precision to any user. The tool can be fitted so an error shows as a gap either at the rim or at the hub. It's your choice. A gap at the rim (hold one tool end against the rim so the other end lifts off) shows a 4-fold magnification of the wheel's centerline error. For example, if the rim centerline is 1mm off, the tool gap at the rim will be 4mm.

A tool so easy to use and with such powerful accuracy is a potent weapon. And wheels can be built to its precision because we have 32 separate points of adjustment and can put the rim anywhere we want. The result is awesomely centered wheels for nearly every rider. Since bicycles are single track, balanced vehicles, this centeredness is crucial. Without centered wheels, our bikes wouldn't track straight, too challenging for many riders.

Just remember this 4X exaggeration of the wheel's centerline error. No use obsessing over insignificant errors. I find wheels perform wonderfully if centered within 0.25mm. That would be a 1mm gap for the tool at the rim. Easy to see and manage. And 0.25mm is 1/4 of one percent of a front hub's width. That's accuracy no fork or frambuilder could maintain. The average wheel is FAR straighter than its frame.

In fact, experienced framebuilders use wheels as gauges to check their work. And average wheels are more than accurate enough to judge the highest end frames. I'm sorry to say that we wheel builders never use frames to check our wheels. Accuracy doesn't flow in both directions.

Heroes of the Past and Present

I'm a big fan of wheel builders, especially the pioneers to whom we owe this wonderful craft that contributes so much to the quality of our cycling. Over this year, I'd like to pay respects to some of these. You'll see these posts collecting in "Workshops" under Contents.

Spain's Michel Debien is one of today's icons. His Spainish shop, Meca Bici, is a celebration of wheel building.

A Master at Work

I could tell right away that Michel shares my enthusiasm for this wonderful craft. On his opening page he pays respects to his mentor, Marcel Borthayre, the legendary builder from Biarritz. When I search for deeper wisdom in this field, I run into Marcel's reputation as a "magician" and pioneer. We'll discuss some of his ideas and contributions in future posts.

Another legendary builder who deserves mention is Claude Lehaneur of Roval. Forget the recent Roval brand re-introduction by Specialized. The work Claude did in France in the late 1970's was as innovative and visionary as cycling ever sees.

All the necessities.