Noble Wheels to the Rescue
I have to admit, I’m not the best home mechanic in the world, but I built my Factor O2 VAM to the best of my ability and enjoyed every step of the process; it was really therapeutic during the stricter lockdown period.
Armed with a musette of essential tools, I took my VAM for a spin in my local park to check everything was operating smoothly.
I barely made it out the front door…
“Where on earth is that rubbing noise coming from?” I couldn’t hear it while rotating the cranks in my work stand. I peddled gently, craning my ear towards the source.
I dismounted and walked home (I was so close that I barely scuffed my cleats).
I took my rear wheel out, the hub seemed fine. It was only generating friction while under load. It was the Campagnolo freehub cassette body (made by Raleigh).
It was time to admit defeat. I wanted to complete this build by myself, but if you truly love something, you have to let it go. I called my friend Johnny Bell (AKA Noble Wheels). I gave him the ‘Facetime’ tour of my freehub for his diagnostics.
Johnny is the best wheel builder and mechanic I have ever met. He is fascinated by how things work and how they could become better. He is more than a mechanic, he is an innovator.
If you would like some custom handbuilt wheels, have an idea for a new build, need something bespoke, or have a problem with your bike, please, do yourself a favour and call Johnny. What I love about him, beyond his mechanical skillset, is how he contributes to your idea - “Have you thought about this?” Before you know it, he has fixed problems that you didn’t even realise you had.
Whenever I pick up my bikes from Johnny, it’s as if I’d previously been riding egg-shaped wheels, sand-filled bearings, using elastic bands instead of gear cables and my chain and cassette were on opposing magnetic fields.
I jumped on a train with my VAM. I haven’t been on a train since the beginning of March… Things have changed… oddly, for the better. The carriage was empty, the few of us on the train were all wearing masks, and it was quiet. There were no people blaring music, shouting down the phone, eating stale McDonalds or drinking beer; just polite, respectful staff and passengers. It was almost pleasurable, like going on a steam train in a Welsh mining village. I’m sure it won’t be long until society is back to ‘usual’ (unbearable).
Johnny took one look at my VAM and started listing all the things he was going to redo, as I said, he fixes problems you didn’t realise you had; an extra rotation of bar tape compared to the other side, cabling that could be rearranged or shortened, etc. His OCD is even higher than mine, that’s why I love him.
Johnny fired up the espresso machine. It suddenly occurred to me that I haven’t tasted espresso since March. I have been extracting coffee with my Aeropress or V60 at home. Filtered single-origin is my favourite, but the espresso tasted like fruity caramel rocket fuel (coffee and bikes, the way to my heart).
I left my VAM with Johnny. He called me the next day and explained the problem with my freehub body. The bearings weren’t pressed in properly (thanks, Raleigh), they were out by 0.6mm, apparently. It takes a pro like Johnny to fix things like this, most people would just say, “It’s fucked, buy a new one.”
I came to pick up my VAM, Johnny was in his workshop, coincidently he was building a new S-Works Venge for one of my best friends, James. He rolled out my VAM, the cables and bar tape looked smarter, the freehub was ‘singing’.
I gave the rear wheel a good spin, Johnny had unleashed the power of the Ceramic Speed bearings inside the Black Inc hub, taking the ride feel from ‘John Deere’ to ‘Aston Martin’.
I peddled my VAM home in awe.
Thanks, Johnny. My knight in ‘Silca’ armour.