I have always enjoyed reviving old bicycles and rescuing old components. In fact, the newest bike I own is probably approaching 25 years at this point. Oh, I replace components that wear out – my current road machine, a 25-year-old Bianchi has had new wheels and a new crankset within the last ten years – but I still ride a 52-year-old Phillips with mostly original equipment (new rims on the wheels, but that’s about it). I have been tinkering with bikes for close to forty years now and have enjoyed keeping some of those wonderful old machines on the road.

My single speed is a bike made up of a 35-year-old Czech frame, old Mafac brakes, new wheels, and an older Dura Ace crankset – I would venture the cranks are about fifteen years old. The frame has some nostalgic connection for me; the crankset I picked up at a local shop about three years ago. I thought the cranks were pretty cool. They are from the time that Shimano still made a thinner, more Campy-looking crank, not the UFO-looking things that they are producing today.

But a few weeks ago (and a big reason there hasn’t been anything new on this website for quite a time), I reached a limit of my use of vintage components.

Here is the set up: I was heading west on 15^th Street at Nicollet Avenue; stopped there waiting for a green light. I tend to take off fast from that light in order to just sneak through on a green light at LaSalle, one block further west. I try to obey the street lights, but stopping after only one block is a pain, so as soon as the Nicollet light turns green its a full-on sprint.

I got the green light, stood on the pedals, pulling hard on the handlebars, and sprinted across Nicollet. All of a sudden, about 20 feet past the intersection, as I stood hard on the right pedal, there was nothing. As my foot encountered no resistance or support from a pedal, my full (and I might say substantial) body weight went forward. As best I can reconstruct, my hard pull on the right side of the handlebars caused the front wheel to immediately turn perpendicular to my line of travel and the bike and I flipped or somersaulted forward.

In that split moment, I remember going through a mental checklist of what might be causing this unexpected flight: “Did I torque the rear wheel out of the drop out? Did the chain fall off? Did the chain break? Did the pedal axle break?” I have experienced these things at various times, never as catastrophically. Moments after landing I looked back and saw that the rear of the bike was intact – wheel in position, chain still attached, but where was the pedal?

“Wait a minute, where is half of the crankarm??” My vintage Dura Ace crankarm had simply snapped in half! About fifteen feet behind where I lay was a pedal securely attached to half a crankarm.

As I lay there, I slowly took stock of my various parts. Although I had come down hard on my head and back, everything seemed to still work. I had road rash on both knees and elbows, a large bruise on the inside of my left thigh (top tube, I suppose) and one on the inside of my left bicep (brake lever, I surmise), more road rash on my right shoulder blade, and a massive bruise on the right side of my lower back (I couldn’t feel my right butt-cheek for about two days and the bruise is only now coming to the surface after three weeks).

What was most sobering of all, however, is that I cracked the back of my helmet. It’s one of those slightly ‘aero’ helmets coming to a pointy thing in the back. That pointy thing is crushed flat and there is a goodly crack up the back side of the helmet. I cannot even imagine what would have happened if I had absorbed that blow to the back of my skull. I don’t even want to think about it.

LESSONS LEARNED

1. Always, always wear a helmet.

I know the trendy thing, especially for younger riders, is to skip the brain protector, but this was a basic, one-person, flip-onto-the-pavement stunt. No crazed driver caused it, no car was involved at all. I would not be the same person today had I not been wearing a helmet. Period.

2. Inspect your components.

As I now look closely at the crank arm, it appears that there had been a hairline crack going into it; there is some sign of oxidation in the cross-section of the alloy arm. It is in the area of the raised “Dura Ace” letters on the crankarm; perhaps that caused a stress riser in the metal. I don’t know if I would have seen the crack from the surface, but it has never occurred to me to really inspect my bicycles and their components, to really look for defects. I have since looked closely at the frame and the other older components that I use.

3. If you can afford it, replace the high-stress components.

If you are going to ride older frames regularly and hard, think about replacing cranksets, stems, handlebars and brakes. Particularly if you are a bigger or stronger rider or if you’ve crashed the component, those parts will be subjected to enormous stress over the years. As I can afford to, I am going to reluctantly replace those items on all my older bikes (well, not the Phillips; I’ll still trust steel to fail more gradually). Unless I am restoring a bike for collecting and not real-world riding, I’ve come to the opinion that I won’t ride old alloy components any longer than I must.

I’m riding the single-speed again, with a new helmet. I replaced the old crankset with a newer (about 4-year-old) Stronglight crankset, but still feel a little hesitant to do an all-out sprint on it.