I’ve talked to a lot of frame builders in my time. The ones who stay in business have a sameness about that that is easy to underestimate: They are nice people, (generally, but thank Buddha, not always) guys who you’d love to go for a ride or have a beer with. They answer their email, know a fair amount about fitting, have a great relationship with a painter (or two), have a lead time that is measured months that can be counted on one hand, price their frames in a way that doesn’t make you wonder where the diamonds will be mounted and seem to be genuinely interested in you and your riding. This last point is no small matter.
Frame building is a solitary endeavor, even when you’re in a shop full of … other builders. It’s noisy and the act of building forces you to focus on the act in front of you. Rather like crafting a worthwhile sentence. People who are good at running meetings are not the stuff of frame builders. The only way you find flow as a builder is if everyone else STFU.
My point here is that simply making it as a frame builder means that the individual or business has met a very high bar. Which brings me to the subject of this piece: I don’t often see anything that distinguishes one builder from another, so when I do, I try to take note.
I’m working on a post about Seattle’s R+E Cycles. Started in 1973 by Angel Rodriguez and Glenn Erickson, R+E is a Seattle institution, a shop I was hearing about before I ever called the Pacific Time Zone home. In the 1980s and ’90s, they turned up in (the two) bike magazines like Tom Cruise does in movies. Criminy, give someone else a chance, will ya?
I spent hours talking to owner Dan Towle (say it like the thing we are charged at bridges) and getting the ins and outs of what has made R+E Cycles a shop that graduated from survivor to institution. Here’s the short version: Dude’s a serious polymath.
He took me downstairs to watch head frame builder Todd Bertram at work before we started our interview that will be a future episode of The Pull. Todd walked me through a number of their processes, even showing some in action. I saw many operations that looked familiar two me. Two of them, however, did not.
Ground Miters
Normally, when a builder cuts a tube for a frame, they have to get a couple of details right. In the case of a single miter (some tubes need more than one), the builder must select the right hole saw (same diameter as the tube it will be welded or brazed to) and they must get the angle exactly right. What I usually see is a squared off tube; that is, the edges of the tube are squared off. It’s a snug fit, but it’s possible to catch a fingernail on the edge of the tube even when placed in the jig up against the tube to which it will be welded or brazed.
At R+E Bertram cuts the tube to within a few millimeters of the desired length, then places it in a fixture that will allow him angle selection to within hundredths of a millimeter, then the proper size mandrel is selected and a belt sander is used to grind the tube to the exact length and angle, and in doing so the tube edge is ground to a bevel that matches the diameter of the tube to which Bertram is welding or brazing.
There’s back story here, owing to Dennis Bushnell, a name known to anyone who followed the performance of the US Olympic Cycling Team at the 1984 Olympics. That’s a post for another day.
When Bushnell devised the system he proved its efficacy by placing two tubes together and pouring water into the joint. Even without brazing, the fit was precise enough to hold water. It’s a system that makes for the most precise miters I’ve ever witnessed. I can say that because I’ve never seen anything come close.
Lasers
Normally, when a frame builder checks alignment, they use a surface gauge, a device with a precision-ground base and an adjustable pointer arm that they can slide around on a flat table. A good builder can bring a frame within tenths of a millimeter of alignment.
Bushnell devised a system using a laser and two registers, one in the X axis and another in the Y axis. The registers sit more than 2 ft. from the frame. The upshot is that every additional inch the registers sit from the laser, the greater the accuracy of the alignment. We’re talking accuracy to within hundredths of a millimeter, a standard I simply don’t see other builders achieve. I’m not saying no one else does this, just that I have yet to see anyone else chase alignment so obessively.
The bike industry is unforgiving much the way explosives are. Survival demands excellence. What it takes to distinguish a brand beyond that point is originality and obsession. Angel Rodgriguez and Glenn Erickson may not be at the bench any more, but the legacy they built (with the help of Dennis Bushnell) lives on in the work of Todd Bertram.