Saturday, October 15, 2022

My Other '73 Schwinn

Well, since I've actually managed to create a couple of new posts this year, let's see if I can keep it rolling.  The best way I think of to do that right now is to try to catch up on some of the bikes I have in my collection that I haven't written about.  Buckle up, because that's a surprisingly long list.  I don't know if I'll get to them all, but here's a start.  Some of you might have seen my posts about my 1973 chrome Schwinn Paramount.  The bike I'm writing about now was the next model down in the Schwinn product line, the Sports Tourer.

 Like many of my bikes, this is one I looked at longingly as a teenager.  We didn't really have a lot of Schwinn dealers near where I grew up, but they showed up in magazines and I got my hands on a catalog at some point, and got to know the various models.  Of course, like just about any cyclist in the 70s, I drooled over the top of the line, hand-built Paramount.  But another model in those catalogs that caught my eye was the Sports Tourer.  Made in the USA, and more affordable than a Paramount, it seemed like a great bike.  I didn't actually lay eyes on one until college, when a guy I shared an apartment with one summer had one, and that just made me want one even more, because in some ways it was like nothing I'd ever seen before.

1973 Schwinn Catalog Sports Tourer Page

 Now, when most people think about 70s Schwinns, the bike they are most likely to think of is the Varsity. One of the first things that comes to mind about that bike is the sheer heft of the thing.  While a lot of entry level 10 speed bikes weighed around 30 pounds, the Varsity tipped the scales at somewhere around 40!  Why is that?  And why was it so popular and sold in such huge numbers?  From what I've read over the years, Schwinn set out to build a 10 speed bike that could take the abuse dished out by a typical American adolescent, and I have to say, they succeeded.  While not light, they were definitely sturdy and durable, and you'll still see a fair number of them rolling along today.

The average person taking a quick glance at a Sports Tourer most likely wouldn't see a big difference between it and a Varsity.  While the Paramount used "lugged" frame construction, where the tubes are joined with the use of external sleeves, the Sports Tourer was built using "fillet brazing."  At first glance, the joints look a lot like the "electroforged" (welded) ones on the Varsity and other lower end Schwinns, but it's a totally different process, involving lower temperatures and higher grade steel tubing, to yield a lighter yet strong frame.  I won't get into the details, because it's better covered here:

https://www.sheldonbrown.com/schwinn-braze.html

And here:

 https://www.sheldonbrown.com/varsity.html

 For many years, the idea of having one of the fillet brazed Schwinns was on my "one of these days, if one happens along" list.  It didn't quite make the "gotta have it" category like a Paramount, or some of the other high end bikes like Mercian or Proteus or Masi, but it was always there in the back of my mind.  Well, a few years back, I don't recall exactly how I stumbled across it, but I found a Craigs List ad for what looked to be a very nice 1973 Sports Tourer.  The only challenge was that it was about 300 miles from me, but it turns out only about 30 minutes from my older brother, who understands my bicycle collecting, since he has a rather large number of guitars in his house.  A few emails and phone calls later, and the bike was in my brother's hands.  It took a few months to work it out, but on a trip to the DC area, my brother brought the bike to our mom's house, where I picked it up shortly after.  Based on the photos in the ad, I figured it was in good shape, but it looked even better in person.

1973 Schwinn Sports Tourer, as it was when I first got it.

 Once I got it back to the shop, I started looking it over and thinking about things I liked and things I wanted to change.  For the most part, the bike seemed to have all of the original equipment, with a few exceptions.  I decided I wanted to get it closer to original while at the same time making it more enjoyable to ride.  The parts that were definitely not original were the freewheel cluster, which was a very narrow range "corncob" style, more suited to a racing bike, and the tires, which were a narrow, high pressure black wall from Continental.  The white Dia Compe brake lever hoods were also most likely not original, as the levers themselves were made by Weinmann, which I believe was standard for Schwinn back then, and the catalog shows bare levers.  (Correction, the hoods were Weinmann, not Dia Compe.) Also, the bike had Huret shift levers mounted on the down tube, while the catalog shows it with the rather imposing Schwinn Twin-Stik stem mounted levers.  Finally, the original pedals would probably have been made by Lyotard of France, not the slightly more modern SR pedals from Japan.

Now that I'd assessed the bike and given it some thought, I made the following changes:

  • Installed a period correct Shimano freewheel with 14 - 32 teeth, with "skipped teeth" on the largest sprockets.  This gave me both a more practical gearing range and the same or similar to what would have originally been on the bike.
  • Swapped the tires for some new 27 x 1-1/4" Panaracer Paselas, which not only look right for the era, but ride great, both swift and comfortable.  Some of you have probably noticed a lot of my bikes have the Paselas on them, so I clearly like them.
  • Replaced the brake lever hoods with black ones, because while originally there would have been no hoods at all, I prefer the feel of rubber hoods.  Also, the bike would have originally had "safety levers" on the brakes as well, but I don't care for those either, so I left those off.
  • While I like down tube shifter levers, I like bar end shifters even more, and I happened to have a set of Schwinn-Approved bar end shifters (made by SunTour), which the catalog refers to as optional "fingertip controls", so I installed those.
  • Finally, while I could have probably found a pair of the correct Lyotard pedals (I might actually have had a pair in a bin somewhere), I really prefer the very similar looking, but better made MKS Sylvan Touring pedals, so I put a set of those and some extra large toe clips on the bike, to accommodate my size 13-14 feet.

While I was at it, I gave the bike a thorough overhaul and cleaning, and even polished up some of the parts, like the funky Nervar triple crankset.  (Correction, as a reader pointed out, it's a DOUBLE crankset, not a triple.). The Brooks saddle that came with the bike was in excellent shape, but the bar tape wasn't that great, so I replaced it with a similar blue padded tape.  Finally, the spiffy little blue saddlebag was too cool to not keep, so it stayed on the bike, as did the classic Zefal HP pump.  

One of the nice features about the 1973 and later Sports Tourers is that they came with a Scwhinn-Approved Le Tour rear derailleur, which was essentially a re-badged Shimano Crane, one of the nicest shifting wide range derailleurs of the day.  Paired with the SunTour shift levers (a personal favorite), it changes gears just great.  The 1971-72 models had the Campagnolo Gran Turismo, which despite being made by the famous Italian company, didn't shift that great and was really, really heavy.  

I've thought about putting fenders on the bike, but haven't gotten around to it.  To be truly Schwinn-accurate, I'd probably have to find some chrome steel ones, but I'm not sure I want to add any more weight to what isn't a really light bike to begin with.  Of course, SKS (formerly ESGE) plastic fenders were popular back then, and even current models would look right.  Or maybe something shiny from Velo Orange, that's lighter but still shiny.   For now, I'll keep it as it is, and just watch the weather.

All in all, I'm really happy with how the bike turned out, and it's a lot of fun to ride.  Not the lightest or fastest bike out there for sure, but super comfortable and smooth. 

1973 Schwinn Sports Tourer, after overhaul and changes.

You can see more photos of the bike, both "before" and "after" shots, here:

1973 Schwinn Sports Tourer

A few links to other, similar bikes, and information on the line in general:

http://www.ironweedbp.com/ironweed-blog/chicago-fillet-the-1974-sports-tourer 

https://16incheswestofpeoria.wordpress.com/2012/04/29/40-years-later-the-schwinn-sports-tourer/ 

http://bikeretrogrouch.blogspot.com/2014/09/handbuilt-schwinns.html


Monday, October 3, 2022

Sometimes, bikes find me!

 Honestly, I haven't been seeking out bikes to acquire for some time now.  But in the last two months, I've had two bikes turn up, and both of them too good a deal to pass up!

First was a bike that I found out about through the IBOB (Internet Bridgestone Owners Bunch) mailing list.  A member of the list posted "Motobecane Grand Record looking for a new home (Free)."  It caught my eye because I've always been interested in the Grand Record and Grand Jubile models from Motobecane, so I read the listing.  The next thing that caught  my eye was that the poster said the owner of the bike (not them) really wanted to do things locally, but might be willing to ship if need be, and that they were close to MY shop, so I could probably help with packing it up.  The final piece of the puzzle was seeing the photos and description, indicating the bike was my size!  A few emails back and forth, and a trip in my car, and the bike was mine.

Waiting for rebuild.

It's pretty filthy and in need of a lot of tlc, for sure, but I can handle all of that.  When I got it home, I was trying to figure out why the front wheel was cockeyed, and discovered that the front fork had a pretty serious bend to the left.  But I have the tools and know-how to fix that, and took the opportunity to make it a teaching moment with one of my staff.  Win-win!

Now, given the amount of work it's going to need, plus having to give some thought to just how I want to use it and thus how I want to build it up, I've put that bike on the back burner for a bit.  That decision was finalized when the second bike showed up, as it is going to be easier and faster to figure out and get rolling.

 My shop works with an organization called Bikes for the World, that collects donated bikes and ships them overseas to be used for transportation, mostly in Africa and Central America.  People that want to donate bikes can drop them off with us, and once a week or so, BFTW comes by with a truck and trailer to pick up anything we've taken in.  Typically, my staff and I will cast an eye over the giant pile of bikes on the truck/trailer rig, and now and then something interesting will be there.  Last week, as I was walking toward him, the driver said "there's one here you should take a look at!"

Well, I went over and looked, and it was quite a surprise.  There in the truck was a tall, yellow bike with drop handlebars like a road bike, but it wasn't a road bike.  No, it was a track bike, a "fixed gear" or "fixed wheel" as the Brits sometimes call it.  Which is probably the appropriate term, since it was built by Witcomb Lightweight Cycles of London.  Witcomb never really had a huge presence in the US market, but US frame builders Richard Sachs, Peter Weigle, Ben Serrota, and Chris Chance trained there in the early 70s, later going on to be major figures in the US bicycle industry.  There was also a Witcomb USA for a few years, which included Sachs, Weigle, and Chance as builders, but that's a different story.

After a short discussion, in which we agreed the bike made no sense for any of the partners in Africa or Central America, and the fact that BFTW had just held their annual sale of bikes that didn't suit the overseas partners, I was offered the bike for a good deal.  Anyone who knows me would not be surprised that I accepted it!  I honestly couldn't resist, as it's a pretty uncommon brand AND uncommon style of bike, plus, I was pretty sure it was pretty old, 70s or older.  It was covered in a pretty good layer of dust and other filth, but it didn't seem to have any serious rust or issues, so I was really looking forward to tear into it and get it rolling again.  Apparently, it had been left at the local transfer station (aka, the dump), which seems a sad end for such a fine bike.  My best guess is the original owner passed away, and whomever ended up dealing with their stuff had no idea it was worth saving.  I'm sure glad it came my way!

Right off the truck, sitting in front of the shop.

Over the last few days, I've had some time to get started, and learned a few things along the way.  First, based on the serial number, it was built sometime in 1963, which makes it one of the older bikes I own.  The seat tube measures 24", which is pretty much about as short as I'm comfortable riding in general, and the frame was built with Reynolds 531 butted main tubes.  The seat stay cluster is kind of cool, using a "full wrap" design.  I think most of the parts are original, aside from the Phil Wood sealed bearing bottom bracket and the Weinmann brake and levers.  In fact, being a fixed wheel, it might have had no brake at all originally, since traditionally they don't come with brakes, and brakes are not allowed in a velodrome.  The wheels have Campagnolo Pista (track) hubs, which have date codes indicating they were also made in 1963.  The rims are MAVIC Championat Du Monde, and the tires are Clement tubulars (aka sewups).  The crank is a Campy Pista with 165mm arms and 47 tooth chainring, for 1/8" chains, connected to a Campy track cog in back.  The handlebars and stem are from Cinelli, though I'm not sure which model at this point.

Full wrap seatstays


Campy Pista 165mm cranks

Campy Pista hub and cog, frame track ends with adjusters.

Cinelli bars and stem, Weinmann levers

I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered the seat post and stem both moved easily once the bolts were loosened.  Sometimes you don't get that lucky, and it can be a huge challenge, and sometimes even completely impossible to budge those, rendering the frame pretty much useless.  On the other hand, the tires were shot (not a big surprise), and the front rim has a huge dent in it.  The rear rim MIGHT be ok, but honestly, I'm not that interested in using tubular tires on this bike, as the gluing and mounting process is kind of a pain, and not something I really love doing.  A few of my other bikes do have sewups, but I try to keep it to a small number.  So now I am working with a friend of mine who has a truly astonishing stash of bike parts, to see if he can come up with some good clincher rims that will look right on this bike.  One oddity is that the front wheel has 32 spokes while the rear has 36.  That actually makes a lot of sense, since the rear wheel sees more stress than the front, but you don't often see bikes that take that into account.  Based on my experience, back in the day, it was mostly the English who thought of such things, as the classic 3-speed "light roadsters" often had 32 in the front and 40 in the rear.

I've taken all of the parts off the frame at this point, and started cleaning it up, including polishing the chrome "socks" on the fork and rear triangle.  The chrome really cleaned up well, and the paint is looking pretty good too.  I need to be careful not to damage the decals any more than they already are, and not harm the paint either.  There's a little bit of rust on the bottom bracket shell where the paint got chipped, but nothing major.  I need to take a closer look inside the tubes, but I think at worst there's a little light surface rust, which is not uncommon at all with older bikes, and isn't a real concern.  Hopefully, over the next few weeks I will be able to rebuild the wheels with new rims and reassemble the bike and start riding it.  I'm pretty sure I'll have the only Witcomb track bike on my local multi-use path!

Painted parts of the frame are cleaning up pretty well.

Rear chrome "socks" looking good.

Left (in photo) fork leg has been polished, right has not.

I'll be posting updates as I move ahead with the work, along with photos, which you'll see here:

1963 Witcomb Track Bike