Back in 1983, my dad walked into Wheeler Dealer in south Florida and bought a beautiful, blue Peugeot P6 Iseran. As per the specs shown in the excerpt from the 1983 calendar above, this was a fairly low end 10-speed model, with Carbolite 103 tubing, Solida crankset, Huret derailleurs, and stem friction shifters. My dad took care of it and it served him well. Eventually, when I was finally tall enough to move on from my BMX, the bike became mine. I loved the bike and rode all around my suburb for several years, until I turned 16 and got my driver's license. After that, it mostly gathered dust in my parents' garage as I grew up, moved out, and moved around the world.
After nearly 15 years of disuse, I moved back closer to home and brought my Peugeot out of retirement and back into semi-regular service. A few years later, I moved the bike with me to Germany, where it saw even more use. It was during one of my rides into the city where I made a happy mistake: I dented the rear wheel. This happened when I tried to bunnyhop onto a curb and didn't manage to get the rear wheel off of the ground. I call this a "happy mistake" because it led me down a rabbit hole of bike projects that I have thoroughly enjoyed over the years, and it all started with a dented rim.
Denting my rear wheel resulted in a flat tyre. Luckily, I wasn't too far from my office, which was right around the corner from a bicycle shop. I popped into the store with bike during my lunch break and asked them if they could repair my flat. The surly staff member replied "nein" and pointed out the dent in the rear wheel. I walked back to my office dejected and started Googling for new rear wheels. That's when I discovered that I had very limited options. My Peugeot came with a once common rim size: 27" x 1.25". While I was able to find a couple of 27" wheels for sale, I realised that I would be limited in terms of tyre selection (they were also overdue for replacement). The standard wheel size for road bikes had shifted to 700c several years earlier, so I started looking to see what would be required to bring my old Peugeot into the modern age (at least in terms of wheels and tyres).
As luck would have it, I came across an extremely useful video on YouTube from RJ the Bike Guy. In this video, RJ updates a vintage bike by converting from 27" wheels to 700c wheels. As an aside, there is a strange thing in the bike world in that 700c wheels are often referred to as 28" wheels. This would naturally make you assume that 700c wheels are larger than 27" wheels. This is incorrect. The actual diameter of a 27" rim is 630 mm, or 24.8". The 27" measurement refers to the outer diameter of the wheel with the tyre installed. The diameter of the rim of a 28" or 700c wheel is 622 mm. This means that for bikes with rim brakes (like mine), the brakes need to reach an additional 4 mm to sit properly on the rim. This is something I learned from RJ's video, and after taking measurement, I realised that I would need new brakes as well.
As this was turning into something more complicated than simply swapping out wheels, I decided to build my own bike stand out of fencing post and PVC pipe. I then started adding to new tools to my toolbox, including a chain tool, crank puller, bottom bracket adapter, and various wrenches. Like many apartment dwellers, I set up shop on my balcony and started wrenching.
As I started planning my project, I started thinking about how I had been riding my bike. Where I was living in Frankfurt, riding around the city and on my commute, I rarely shifted gears. I usually rode around using my small chainring (42T) and the smallest cog on the rear (14T). I know this is considered a "no-no" as it is "cross-chaining", but it was the right ratio for me. I had seen a few single speed bikes around town and liked the way they looked, so I decided to go down that route.
I found a now-defunct online store in the UK called Single Speed Components and ordered one of their kits. This included a new wheel set, tyres, crankset, bottom bracket, and chain. I went with a fairly aggressive 3:1 setup for a single speed, with a 48T chainring and 16T freewheel. Since my old Weinmann brakes were not going to work (due to the aforementioned reach issue), I ordered a set of Tektro R559 brake callipers. Finally, I picked up some new brake cables and bar tape.
After stripping down the bike and thoroughly cleaning everything, I started fitting the new components. Thanks to more RJ the Bike Guy videos, I learned how to properly install brakes and wrap handlebars. Before long, everything was installed and I was ready for my first ride.
Riding around on my revamped Peugeot was great. I loved how quiet it was riding without a rear derailleur. The 3:1 gear ratio worked well as it allowed me to go fast enough and didn't make the one hill on my commute too difficult. I really dug the clean look of my setup, and it compelled me to keep the bike clean as well. This was my fair-weather bike, reserved for sunny days and special occasions. When I initially dented my rear wheel, I bought a second bike (the Prophete 2-S) which had mud guards, so I had the luxury of keeping my Peugeot out of the rain and snow.
A minor accident led me to upgrading the brake levers. The Iseran originally came with Weinmann double levers. The "double" part consists of secondary levers that you can pull when you're riding on the flats of the handlebars. They are essentially extensions of the main brake levers; pulling the double lever part of the brake levers would cause the main brake levers to move as well. These are also referred to as "suicide" levers as the linkage to the main levers isn't the most robust. Riding around the city, I was often using the flats of my bars, so I used the levers a lot. I was never very impressed with the stopping power that they offered, so after my accident, I decided to upgrade my setup with Tektro aero brake levers and Cane Creek interrupters. Whereas the old double levers worked by effectively moving the main brake levers to pull the brake cable, the interrupters install inline with the brake cable, meaning that they can pull the brake cables independently of the main brake levers. On a later single speed setup on a different bike, I installed these as the main brake levers. On my Iseran, the combination of the aero brake levers and interrupters was perfect. I also liked the look better; I never liked the way the old levers looked with cables sprouting out of the top.
A year or so after the single speed conversion, we moved into a house that was a bit further away from Frankfurt and my office. Now I had a decent uphill stretch to tackle on my way home, so I found myself choosing my Iseran less and less. The success of my Iseran project had led me to take on more and more bike projects, and I now had a fleet of a dozen or so bikes crammed into my garage and workshop. One of these was a 1986 Peugeot PH501 that I had built from the frame up into a nice 12-speed with quality components. As my Iseran gathered dust, I rode the PH501 everywhere. It was nice to ride, and it definitely had a higher quality frame, but I missed riding my Iseran. So one day I decided to swap all of the components, converting the PH501 into a single speed and my Iseran into a 12-speed bike that I could ride any day, regardless of the weather. When I ended up moving to London a few years later, I had to drastically reduce the size of my bike fleet. The PH501 was sold and Iseran came with me. This is definitely a bike that I will never sell, although I eventually may pass it on to one of my kids when their legs are long enough.
But when I think back to 2015 and all of projects I’ve worked on since, none of them would have happened had I not had the good fortune of denting my rear wheel. I learned a lot from this project and it gave me the confidence to do more and more. It really brought new meaning to “learn from your mistakes” mantra.