Showing posts with label Urban Adventure League. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urban Adventure League. Show all posts

15 January 2020

Breaks

Shawn Granton, the man behind Urban Adventure League, was running errands in his adopted hometown of Portland.  He was riding at a speed normal for those circumstances when the seatpost on his Raleigh Crested Butte broke under him.

What was unusual, though, was the way it failed:  in the middle of the tube, near the seat tube collar.

In my four decades-plus as a cyclist, which includes time as a bike mechanic, I have seen and heard of maybe a handful of seatposts that broke.  And I can think of only one post besides Shawn’s that broke mid-tube:  In my last bike-shop gig,  I worked on a warranty claim for a customer who experienced the failure of an early carbon fiber post.  I think he rode into a pothole or something, because the jarring threw him forward, away from the jagged edge of the sheared post.  Had he not been thrown forward, he could have found out what it’s like to have a broken bottle shoved into his crotch.  I don’t wish such a thing on anyone!

The only other mid-tube seatpost failure I can recall happened to a onetime mountain-biking buddy.  During a ride in Massachusetts, his post bent about halfway between his saddle and seat collar.  Perhaps that doesn’t count as a “failure,” but I don’t think he was anticipating a mid-ride change in his bike’s geometry!



Image result for broken seat post



I myself have had two seatpost failures. In the first, about 30 years ago, the seat rail clamp bolt broke on a Laprade-clone post.  I was a block from my apartment , on my way home from work.  Fortunately,, a driver about 50 feet behind me saw me and swerved away.  Only my feet made contact with then pavement.

The second seat post failure was potentially more serious.  I wasn’t hurt but I was pissed.  On that post—an expensive after-market Syncros—the head, which included the seat clamping mechanism, separated from the tube of the post.  I was doing (or trying) some stupid mountain bike trick  when the break occurred.  I think I did another stupid mountain bike trick to keep myself  pedaling , more or less upright, through a turn.

Syncros wouldn’t replace the post, but the shop where I bought it gave me another.  Not long after, Syncros had a major recall.  At the time, I remember thinking “I should have known better than to buy anything called ‘Syncros’!”  After all, it was the name, a few years earlier, of Campagnolo’s early (and short-lived) indexed shifting system.  It certainly earned its nickname: “Stinkros.”

Anyway, I am happy that Shawn and his bike are OK—and hope he doesn’t experience another mishap like it.

08 December 2017

Meeting The Urban Adventurer

Even as a writer, writing for so many years, I still sometimes find it odd that I have relationships with people that are formed entirely by words.  I even find it a bit unusual that I can have a connection with someone through images as well as words.

Those, of course, are the sorts of links one develops through blogs and other social media.  I have interacted with some of you through exchanges of comments on my posts. I have communicated with some of you through e-mail, and have even talked with a few of you by phone.  But, to date, I've met even fewer of you in person.

Well, two weeks ago, I finally came face to face with someone whose blog I've been reading for years--in its iterations on Blogspot as well as Word Press--and with whom I've corresponded by e-mail and post cards.  That last part is particularly interesting, as he created some of the cards himself.



I am referring to Shawn Granton, the author/artist of Urban Adventure League and the eponymous organization dedicated to human-powered explorations of the urban environment.  "Human-powered", of course, encompasses a number of modes, including feet and public transport, though Shawn's primary--and favored--means of travel seems to be the bicycle.

After work, I hopped on my bike and pedaled down to Oren's Daily Roast, a couple of blocks from the Metropolitan Museum. (Oren's costs a bit more than Starbucks but is worth it, both for the coffee and the relatively intimate atmosphere.)  We didn't have much time together, as he was trying to fit visits to a number of friends and relatives across several cities and states into a weeklong East Coast trip.  The time, however, was satisfying, as I felt no need for preambles.  Though I had never before seen his face, I felt that I already knew him at least somewhat, and that it felt a bit more like a reunion, however brief, of old buddies rather than an introduction.  That may be as much a testament to Shawn's easygoing personality as it is to anything else.



I wish only that we could have ridden together.  Perhaps another time...when he comes here again...or when I go to Portland?

 

24 February 2012

Bike Electronics, Then And Now

One of my favorite cycling blogs, along with Lovely Bicycle! and Girls and Bikes is Urban Adventure League.  


Today's UAL post is typical in that reflects the creativity and humor of the blog's author, Shawn.  The post contrasts bicycle touring electronics of the 1970's with their counterparts today.

Actually, "counterparts" isn't quite an accurate term.  For one thing, cyclists today use many more electronic devices, on as well as off their bikes, than we did "back in the day."  I never had a transistor radio attached to my bike, but I carried one on rides that lasted more than a day.  They were the best one could do for weather reports and such.  



As for lights, the post accurately depicts their state in those days: bigger and boxier.  What it doesn't, and couldn't, show is that they were also far less effective than today's lights.  Halogen bulbs were available only in the larger sizes used in headlights for motor vehicles; they were not yet re-sized and otherwise modified for bicycle lights.  And, if I'm not mistaken, LED's hadn't been invented. 


One of the better lights I used was made by British Ever Ready Electric Company (BEREC).  




It took, if I recall correctly, two D batteries, which meant that it weighed a seeming ton.  But it did provide a brighter and broader beam than most other lights available at that time.  Plus, it came with hardware that allowed you to mount it in a variety of positions (including the built-in fork mounts found on most bikes sold in Great Britain at that time) and to remove it when you parked.  The latter, of course, was a useful feature for commuters who had to leave their bikes in urban combat zones as well as for cycle-campers.


BEREC also made what was, for that time, a nice, if heavy and clunky, tail light:




At the time this light was made, the only available flashing tail light was the Belt Beacon.  It was a great light, even by today's standards, but it was difficult to mount  and rather flimsy. (I broke two before giving up on them.)  On the other hand, the BEREC tail light, like the headlight, was solidly constructed and gave a good beam.






The other alternatives, in those days before halogen and LEDs, were Wonder battery lights as well as various generator-powered lamps.  Wonder lights were bright, given the standards of the time, though not as bright as the BEREC lights.  They also were much lighter and more streamlined.  However, they took a battery that only Wonder made.  If you were in France, that wouldn't be a problem, as it and the lights were made there and most shops in the country stocked them.  However, their availability was more sporadic in the States, which meant the batteries were considerably more expensive than the D-size batteries that powered the BEREC lights.






The first pieces of bicycle electronics I recall seeing that didn't have to do with lighting were computers that measured distance, speed and, in some cases, cadence.  They also measured the time elapsed on your ride.  The first such computer, to my knowledge was marketed by CatEye in 1981.  




Looking at it makes me think of the portable phones the Miami Vice cars. They are to today's "smart phones" as incandescent bulbs are to LEDs.  But they, like this original Cateye and the Commodore personal computers, were the the highest technology of their time.


What I'd really like to see are LED head lamps with the style of 1890's carbide bike lights.




I think there'd be room in it someplace for a cycle-computer with all of the modern functions!