Steve Maas, Long Beach, California
March, 2006
This
bike is extraordinary: it was sold to me by its first owner, who received it in
February, 1974, and
kept it in virtually perfect, original condition. Only the bar tape, brake
hoods, a few bits of hardware, and one spoke have been replaced. It even has the original toe straps and tires,
although, predictably, the latter aren't exactly in pristine condition. Not only
is the bike itself in wonderful shape, but it retains that sense of what a
Hetchins is: difficult to describe in words, but I think that the picture at
left, showing the elegant green and gold headtube with red lug outlining, says
it much better than I could.
The Spyder is not one of the more ornate Hetchins bikes. It does not have the curved stays of the Magnum Opus or the extensive chromed decorations. Its decoration is relatively muted, with simpler lugs and fewer, mostly unchromed, tube embellishments. The rear end, similar to my Hetchins Keyhole, is of the fastback style, with the seat stays almost joining at the seat lug. All in all, some would say it's more tasteful, not so "over the top." Still, I'm intrigued by the quizzical curls of the head-tube lugs, as if the MO ebullience were just barely suppressed, still trying to break out.
Below are some pictures of the bike as it was displayed on eBay. To see a larger version of any of the pictures, click on the thumbnail, and use the "back" button of your browser to return to this page.
Restoration is something of an overstatement. As I received it, the bike was in remarkable condition, but, predictably, it needed some polishing and lubrication after many years of disuse. As with virtually all such bikes, the wheels really needed attention: spoke retensioning, hub lubrication, and tires. The bike's right brake lever operated the front brake, the opposite of convention. Even if it were originally set up this way (unlikely), I had to change it, or I'd wrap myself around a tree.
I started with the wheels. Although they were apparently true, several spokes had lost most of their tension. The spokes, butted 2.0/1.7 mm, apparently nickel-plated steel, had some rust speckles in places, not too bad. The spoking is four-cross, an elegant detail. One spoke on the rear wheel had been replaced; it was a bit too short and 2.0 mm straight gauge. The nipple was probably incorrect as well; when I tried to adjust its tension, the nipple started to bind and would not screw farther onto the spoke. Fortunately I had a 1.8 mm straight-gauge spoke, just the right length, in my pile of wheel-building leftovers, and the problematical spoke was on the more accessible flange. Also fortunately, all the spoke nipples turned easily after a little oiling; none of the spokes broke in adjustment.
I followed my standard process for doing this. First, I brought all the spokes to a uniform tension. (On the rear, the tensions of the right-side spokes obviously must be greater than the left-side.) I adjusted the tensions gradually, working around the wheel several times. The tensions of the spokes interact, so the tension on any particular spoke cannot be changed a lot at once. Since the spokes and rims may not be able to handle high tensions, older bikes require lower tensions than modern wheels. In this case, I used about 70 kgf on the front and about 40/80 on the rear. I didn't know what tensions were common in 1974, and, originally, the wheels probably were built without the use of a tensiometer, so these values were conservative. Finally, when all the spoke tensions were uniform, I trued the wheel, again making relatively small changes at each high or low point, while checking the tensions frequently. As always, the whole thing eventually converged, as if magically, to a true, properly tensioned wheel.
I removed the old tires and hardened glue, cleaned the rims, applied new glue, and installed a set of Clement tires which I took off my 1966 chrome Hetchins Magnum Opus. (I bought some nice Panaracer kevlar tubulars for the MO, ones with a cool red stripe that picks up the red accents on the rest of the bike.) I relubed the hubs; they needed it. I also polished the hubs, as best I could without despoking them, and the inward surfaces of the rims. Cleaned traces of glue from the brake surface with lacquer thinner, and they were ready to go. All this took the better part of a day.
Normally, on any "new" bike, I do a lot of teardown, cleaning, polishing, and lubrication. I hadn't intended to do so much on this bike, but as I looked closely at components, I found bits of old grease and built-up dirt, mostly in out-of-the-way places. No major problem, but it's best to take care of it now. So, I took the brakes apart, cleaned, polished, and relubricated them, sanded down the surface of the 32-year-old Campagnolo pads, and reassembled them with the proper adjustment. I also took apart the cables, relubricated them, and polished the ferrules. They went back together with the right lever controlling the rear brake, as it should.
Everything else was pretty straightforward and consisted largely of taking all the parts off the bike (except the bottom bracket and headset, which the previous owner had already lubricated and adjusted properly), polishing the frame with automobile polish and chrome cleaner, cleaning and relubing all the parts, oiling the leather seat, and finally putting it all back together. Now, the candy-like green paint has its original luster and depth, and the chrome is almost blinding.
Below are some pictures of the finished bike. A couple weeks after these pictures were taken, I painted a water-bottle cage gold and installed it. A nice touch.
Since this bike is nearly original, it seems worthwhile to mention a few details for anyone seeking to restore a similar bike to original condition. Here they are:
The serial number of this bike is H10687. It was delivered to the first owner, in Denver, Colorado, USA, in February, 1974. It was ordered in July of the previous year.
The bike's maiden voyage was on Saturday, April 1, 2006. Near the end of the ride, I stopped at a bike store, parked the bike in the rack outside the door, and went in to get a couple tubes of tubular-tire cement. A minute later, I heard someone exclaim "Wow! There's a cool bike!" and looked up to see the Spyder surrounded by admirers. On my way out, I met a couple of them and passed on the Lore of Hetchins. Mounted up, and continued home, happy.
A week or so later I took the Spyder on a 70-mile loop. I went east into Anaheim, down the Santa Ana river to Newport Beach, and finally back north along the beach bike path. A pleasant day's outing on a delightful bike.
The serial number of this bike is only two away from that of my Hetchins Keyhole, and that information has helped me date the Keyhole more accurately. See the footnote on that page.
There is a lot of information about Hetchins bikes on the web. There are some links at the bottom of the page for my Hetchins Magnum Opus; click here to go to it.