WS/CC

So I’ve had this old GT Avalanche following me around for a few years now. 

At any given time it’s been taking up space in the living room, on the back patio, down the side lane of the house, or stashed in Dad’s garage.

I bought this bike brand new in 2009. After 5 years at uni I’d graduated to full time work and a modest but regular wage. My girlfriend at the time needed a new commuter, and I’d stopped trying to convince myself that kicking around on a bmx was still practical and legit (though I did occasionally commute to hospital placements on my trusty Mosh DJ3, I stopped soon after epically bailing a bunnyhop mid-peak-commuter-foot-traffic out the front of the Alfred Hospital in Melbourne. Embarrassing). 

Having decided a mountainbike was a serious and grownup alternative, we purchased a matching pair of hardtails from Rays Cycles in Brunswick. The girlfriend didn’t last, and neither did her bike - it was stolen somewhere down the line. 

But I rode the wheels off my GT. Literally - the rear hub imploded on it’s last journey, long after it had been replaced, but kept in service as a spare for any mate that felt like testing the MTB waters. The fork was shot, the chainrings were cactus; and anyone who walked away from a ride on it grinning rather than swearing had definitely caught the bug.

I could never bring myself to get rid of it, and it wasn’t worth anything to anyone else - not even for the parts. The solution was obvious - go full-rigid, cobble together the spares on hand, and reincarnate it as a monstercross frankenbike! 

A lick of paint, and a carefully curated set of discounted parts both old and new has given the GT a second chance. The old Avalanche might finally be dead, but it has been reborn as a bonafide fun machine, and it still puts a grin on my face. 

The HP#3 Deathcross.

A good mate swapped me some spare Shimano stoppers for the monstercross project. He took the clapped-out SR Suntour fork form the GT with plans to make a workshop stool.

The pursuit bars were fun, but left me with the head-down/arse-up feeling that I would never see that car/bus/truck coming. Granted, they looked sharp - but this build originally began with utility in mind.

I was after a more commanding position to nip through traffic; and figured there was no point having a schweet bottle-opener with no way to carry a stash of tall frosties.

The old bars went back on the shelf, replaced with a set of risers and a Lekker Bikes Porteur Rack for maximum practicality; with a Spurcycle bell for maximum safety. And it still looks ok to my eye.

Porteur > Poseur.

Detail in utility.

Pshht. Refreshing!

I carved this little fella out of a piece of mild steel barstock. The first attempt was a bit of a hack, to try out some different angles. I had a new cordless grinder and a bunch of fresh files to wear out. Didn’t lose any fingers, so I’m chalking that one up as a win.

Once the basic form was knocked out, I spent an afternoon on the buffing wheel and this shiny little beverage wrench popped out the other side.

Do try this at home.  

The ugly duckling. 

Spotted on eBay some months ago with a confidence-inspiring description along the lines of “can ride, needs work”, this “Pro-Ace by Holstar” didn’t seem to offer much at first glance. That blue-and-yellow Biopace sticker taunted me from the big ring, suggesting there was not much help on offer for what little power my stroke might boast already… but I wanted a 1x drivetrain anyway…  

Closer inspection revealed healthy bones. Low-spec CroMo, but real-steel all the same, and internal cable routing in the toptube. An elegant quill stem, modest lugs, and braze-on downtube shifters were on my wishlist. And that unified seatstay… lateral stiffness be damned,  it just looked too good. Sold! to the highest - though not that high - bidder. 

“Sure”, I said, “I’ll just tidy it up with a quick coat of warpaint, new tyres and a fresh cassette. That’ll be fine to get me to the shops and back…” 

Famous last words. Introducing the WS/CC HP#2 Holstar-Redux. 

Another swan rescued from the ducks.  Another bike saved from the bin. 

What began as a quick tidy up get me to the shops and back, may have gotten a little out of hand…

First, the wheels. Knackered. No point rebuilding a wheelset with a 7sp freehub. “Yeah, 1x10 would be cool, right? Works on the mountain, and should make the ride home from the pub easier too. Ok. New wheels.” Arm twisted.

A neat Shimano 5700 series 105 derailleur turned up on eBay. They guy selling it had some pristine brakes to match. “Why not? They’ll look great with the new wheels. I’ll paint it in grey primer and be done with it.”

Then I discovered the Paul Component Engineering Duplex Lever. “Gee, wouldn’t that make braking with another hand on the shifter a lot easier? And damn if it isn’t a work of art!?”

With new wheels, new drivetrain, new brakes, and a shiny lever… I was starting to worry about the time I would need to spend on the bench-grinder polishing everything else to match… 

“Screw it. I’ll do it properly.” Turns out Dulux isn’t just for homeowners with shaggy dogs. You can also use it to lay a nice coat of ‘60s hotrod flake. 

After a crash course in Affinity Designer, the crew at Veloink sorted me out with some bumper stickers to make it official.

And the left-side shifter boss? I couldn’t bring myself to carve it off the frame, so function found a form. Sure, I’ve already got a bottle opener on my keys, but cordless angle grinders are really fun to work with… Cheers. 

Once you go black... 

A note in retrospect on a return to form with a fresh hardtail. 

It's been a few years on a seat with a shock, but I sure have missed ripping up singletrack on a semi-squish bike. A recent run on an old favorite reminded me of how fun a rigid relationship between rear wheel and real world can be. 

Steel? check. Slack? check. 29er...? 

Yeah, I went to a place I said I never would. 

So far the Honzo has copped new treads from Schwalbe, a KS dropper, a OneUp wide-range cassette adaptor, and some fresh grips from ODI. 

Welcome to the Workshop.

From vague beginnings in procrastination; to the occasional two wheeled menace rolling out of a humble garage in Melbourne.

This is Workshop Custom Cycles.