Even I don't know what's hit me

Yesterday, I spotted another Viscount--a lugged white frame with black graphics--and had to stop, of course. I circled the bike like predator its prey, only to raise the awareness of the bike's owner. After I clarified that I had no intention of stealing it, he came over and I revealed my extreme Viscount nerdiness. I checked the bike's 'vitals' and concluded it needed a major overhaul; the bottom bracket had play, the pedals were falling apart, the tires were brittle and rather flat, and my guess is that the hubs' bearings were properly worn, too. Nevertheless, I believe the bike would be good to go for another decade or two if it received some TLC. The owner said he'd been riding it for the past eleven years and is very much attached to it. Understandably, given that he knows how rare they are nowadays. Which doesn't explain the state his bike is in. But he shall be excused as I reckon he basically is where I had been until April this year: riding around as a keen urban cyclist, who's got no knowledge about the mechanics. Bless him.
I, too, have been cycling for all my life, and, although I loved every bike I had, so much so, that I named them, I didn't really do much else than ride them, sometimes clean the frame and the rims (when they were new), and, if something bothered me too much, I popped down the next local bike shop and got it fixed.
How quickly things can change ...
Up until April this year, I'd never heard of the name Viscount. Now, in October, I'm the proud owner of not only one, but three Viscounts, which are all ridden, and two frames, waiting to become fully-fledged bikes. I also own a Mamachari, a rather sexy Japanese city bike, which I love dearly. That means I have a silver/black, a red, a blue, and a green bike in my shed--this girl has a bike for every outfit or occasion.
As you know I've been learning how to fix my bikes myself. Firstly, because I'm very particular about my Viscounts and won't let anyone, who has no experience with them, go near them, and secondly, because it's way more fun than just handing over your bike (and money).

There's more where that came from

For the past four months, I've been working (volunteering in exchange for experience and getting my bikes fixed) at Mamachari bikes in Dalston and it was a bit like hitting the ground running. It's a new, but very busy shop and I had to get my hands dirty. Not that I mind. Tools are my kryptonite, and learning new skills my passion; and believe you me, in the world of bike mechanics, there's always something new to learn. Probably one of the reasons I love it so much, it never gets boring. And because I do see a proper second career in this, I've enrolled in a bike mechanic level 2 course (and passed it, too, in case you're wondering). Admittedly, I'm loving the reactions of people when I tell them that I'm a bike mechanic, a certified one, even. Ha! Luckily, eyes are held in place by tendons and muscles.

A door stopper

Yes, I've still got a lot to learn, and I'm nowhere near as capable as I'd like to be, but that's part of the fun: learning by doing it. I've even got a full time job lined up with a newish bike shop in London, so if everything goes well, I'll start in December. Proof that I've finally lost it is that I'm currently reading Engineering
Workshop Practice, which seems like an interesting read.
I've also been in touch with another place who were interested in my wheel-building skills. Shawn, my red one, as you can see in the picture, has the wrong wheels on him. I bought him that way, but since it's just not right to ride a Viscount on 700c wheels, I've built him a pair of shiny new 27" 1 1/4 wheels, Polished alloy rims on Viscount hubs. And they'll get amber wall tires. Beautiful! Tomorrow, I'll swap them over and hope they'll not fall apart under me, now that would be embarrassing. I doubt it, though.
So in the period between end of April, when I bought Shawn, to now, end of October; I turned from an urban rider into a bike mechanic with a vision. And it won't end here. Be afraid, be very afraid; Stella & the Viscounts has only just started.

It's just a wheel, or is it? Part 1

27" 1 1/4 wheels on LF Viscount hubs

I'm making slow progress on the blue bike, but have a good feeling that I'll be riding it this coming weekend. As you know I've cleaned it up and stored the frame for the time being while I'm taking care of the wheels. I took them off to give them a good once-over, replace the bearings, and clean the hubs and rims before truing them and putting new rim tape and tyres on. I'm still undecided if I'm going to change the tubes, as I'm not a waster. May put in new ones and keep the old for emergencies when on a ride. Better safe than sorry, eh? The old tyres were knackered--amber walls honey-coloured and brittle--they'll go to bicycle heaven.

New bearings 6000RS

However, I'm glad to have the bearings out and, using Noah's very handy vice, I was able to repair the minor damaged I had made to the threads since I had to hammer the axle in and out, and then in and out again. It's the only way to get the bearings out if you don't have a puller tool. And I've learned from last time's mistake and kept the nut on.
At least it's all sorted now, and I've spent two wonderful evenings amusing myself cleaning up the wheels and hubs, intoxicated by the fumes of GT 85 and cheap furniture polish. I can't be arsed to buy alloy polish, to be honest. The bike is old; I'm not going to get it repainted, so I'm fine with the bike being as clean as it gets. Let it show its history and age. It's fine. The only thing I want to be done is to get the fork rechromed as it's chipping badly. That's two forks I have to take care of.
I've then sat down and tightened the spokes which were rather loose. Will take the wheels to the lbs

Nail polish came in handy

tomorrow and see what damage I've done. Tightening spokes isn't truing, and since I've no idea what I'm doing, I may have done everything wrong. At least none of the spokes broke, that's good news, right?

No name, but pretty.

Regarding tyres: I've got some no-name ones I'd like to give a go. They aren't Schwalbe or Panaracer, but they were cheap and cheerful. Hopefully no punctures will take the cheer off the 'ful'. Sorry for the bad joke; it's hot, you see?
The bike will get new bar tape and a new saddle, oh, and it needs the brake and gear cables replaced, but I'm sure I can sort this out before this weekend.
Then I'll urgently return to Shawn's stuck seat post. I'm praying (not literally) for the Plus Gas to do the magic and it'll come out without any further resistance. Then I'll have to pester Graham from the Vintage Bike Cave to find me one of his Birmalux alloy seat posts so I can start riding Shawn, too. It's summer, after all. And I'd like to be prepared with at least one working bike for the Prudential Ride in August.
Fingers crossed!

How it began

Beautiful Mafac front brake

Well, actually not too long ago, but let me explain why:
For as along as I can remember I've been cycling. I recall my uncle teaching me how to, and the moment when he let go and I reminded him over my shoulder to not do exactly that. I heard nothing and that's when I learned that I was already riding myself. As I grew older I had a folding bike, a hand-me-down bike my grand-grand mother had ridden, before I got my very first new bike: a 3-gear ladie's in burgundy, which I had for many years. When it broke down I bought my very first own second hand bike and loved it. My yellow Lottie was well-known and was a single speed Dutch-style bicycle. Wonderfully easy to pedal and sturdy. When that fell apart I upgraded to a men's mountain bike. And for the past five years I've ridden my second one. However, I always wanted to have a racer, but never really thought of buying one.
Until April this year, that is. My trusty mountain rider was becoming a tad heavy to ride and I was ready for something new, and while I was at it, fulfilling myself the dream I had since I was a teenager. So I set out to find myself a suitable, affordable bike. I found one in the cellar of an antique/weird and wonderful parts shop in Hackney and it was love at first sight. Yes, it does exist! While it was mainly the colour red that drew me in, once I felt the alloy drop handlebars and sat on it, I was sold. This was the bike I wanted. I left the shop as I didn't have any money on me, and with the thought of having to look around a bit more, but I already knew I'd fallen for it.

Shawn as he's now, but soon to be changed

The next day I went back to buy it. It was time to take a look at the bike in daylight and, what can I say? I
liked what I saw and felt. While the guy who owns the shop set to fix a few things (thinking back he didn't really know what he was doing), I used up a fair amount of his miracle wipes to clean the bike. It had been sitting in the cellar for a while; my belief is that fate was waiting until I was ready for it. With the tyres pumped up, the gears and brakes adjusted, I rode home with a huge smile on my face.
At home, I took an even closer look at my purchase, feeling a bit like a lion who got the antelope and pulled it to the hiding before devouring it. This bike was mine and nobody would take it off me again. Ever!
But what the heck was a Viscount? Never heard of it. I knew it was an old bike and I loved the centre pull brakes and suicide levers, but the brand didn't ring a bell.
Thanks to my friend Google, I soon found out what a gem I'd bought: a Viscount Aerospace Sport, made from lightweight alloy in the 70s--very advanced for that time. I dug a big more and found a forum, or better a thread, where Viscount enthusiasts are mingling to discuss those wonderful bikes.
That's when it all began: the love/hate relationship with those bicycles. Love, for they're wonderful to ride on; hate, because they're very particular in the way they were constructed with press-fit bottom brackets and press fit bearing in the hubs, which makes maintenance a lot more challenging.
I'll post about my steep learning curve and hope to encourage other enthusiasts to give those magnificent bicycles a second lease of life. They truly deserve it.