The Lizzyville Coaster: Finished!

Did you want to start at the beginning?

Here is the finished bicycle, the one-of-a-kind 2007 Lizzyville Coaster. A few more shots from different angles:

The life-saving Nashbar long-reach caliper. Certainly for the price they're very nice brakes, being dual-pivot and all. They also allow a large amount of clearance. Although the bike's currently got 700x23's on it (a tad narrow I know) it probably supports up to 700x35's, which would make this practically an off road bike.

Here's the rear drivetrain. You can see the pine-cone lacing, but it's really only noticeable when looked at head-on, which is a pity. I usually do a round-up summary at the end of my projects, but I think I'll skip it this time, the bike speaks for itself. Maybe I'll just do a quick one...
What went right:

• The paint job looks pretty professional, only a few runs and minor mottled patches.
• Finding parts on eBay is pretty easy, as long as you take your time.
• Having built several bikes before helps, as you've got a stock of spare parts.
• The Vuelta rims are pretty, and seem very tough.
• Having a basket is awesome.

What went wrong:

• No matter how pretty the paint is, it's not durable like a powdercoat. It'll be 6 months before it's destroyed.
• The decals look like they were drawn on by a 3-year-old with no hands.
  
• Using a frame that's so old you need special long-reach calipers.
• Although steel's a nicer ride, I probably should have used an aluminum frame, as the rainy winters will rust the bike out quickly.
• A bit heavier than I would have liked, but that's probably only in comparison to my bike.

All in all, a worthwhile addition to the team of projects here at commonmode.

This is the bike as it looked waiting to be delivered. Just chilling in sub-zero weather in Park Slope, at 11am on December 1, 2007.

And for a moment of levity, on the way back from delivering the bike, a block from my apartment on 114th street in Harlem, I came across this. I think the moral of the story is New York will break your bike in half.

I'll miss you Lizzyville.

A month or so ago, it happened that I needed a floor lamp for my room. I was coming back from lunch in midtown and I saw a huge flashy "sale" sign emblazoned on the window of Restoration Hardware. I didn't know anything about Restoration Hardware, so I walked right in expecting to find a great deal on a floor-standing torchiere. I picked one, a reasonably understated modern design with a halogen bulb and dimmer, and asked the sales clerk how much it was. Oh, she replied. You're in luck, today it's 33% off. And that would make it...? $699 for the floor model.

The reason I bothered to bring this up at all is while I was browsing the rows of illuminating devices, I noticed next to particularly expensive items were small stacks of brochures. In these brochures was practically nothing useful/pertinent to aid you in making your purchasing decision. Instead, it was filled with "glamour shots" if you will of the item in question set in various lights and poses, with various good-looking people. It seems as if when you're about to put down a month's rent for a light fixture, you're buying not only the ability to see your own two hands at bedtime but a little chunk of status as well. Gosh, I thought, this here bike is certainly swanky enough to warrant a brochure, after all it's got status and sex appeal written all over it. Well, you can see how that little idea turned out here.