“Where are you riding today?”
“Wherever the bike wants bike wants to go!”
The bike knows…
In the middle of the journey of my life, I am--as always--a woman on a bike. Although I do not know where this road will lead, the way is not lost, for I have arrived here. And I am on my bicycle, again.
I am Justine Valinotti.
Why?
The “drillium” craze reached its peak during the late 1970s and early 1980s. The ostensible goal was to save weight. So many folks beleved, then as now, that extra gram on a brake lever would cause them to lose a race, or simply face. So they went against manufacturers’ warnings not to “try this at home and bored into cranks, chainrings, brake calipers and any other part they could reach with a carbide bit.
While some “hokey” parts made sense and were even beautiful, there are some I will never understand. For example, unless you do all of your riding in surgically antiseptic environments, I cannot understand why you would make the inner workings of a hub vulnerable to dirt, dust and moisture.
The funny thing is that this hub has what looks like a partial freewheel attached to it. Did someone remove two cogs (it looks like a five-speed freewheel) to save weight?
Manufacturers always insisted that they drilled—or did anything else to save weight—only as much as they believed was safe. Ironically, some perforated parts—like Campagnolo’s Super Record brake levers and the version of Huret’s Jubilee derailleur with pinpoint holes in its pulley cage—actually weighed a few grams more than their un-drilled counterparts.
I would love to know how (or whether) that hub and freewheel were ridden.
Throughout my decades of cycling, I’ve heard all sorts of advice about cycling, training, nutrition—and the bikes themselves. Sometimes, after receiving one dictum, I got another that contradicted it—sometimes from the same person or other source.
For example, I saw an article touting the benefits a new paint job. In the same publication, a few months later, another item by the same contributor said repainting a bike frame is not worthwhile because no refinishing is as good as the original. The work Mercian did in restoring Vera, my Miss Mercian mixte and Tosca, my fixie, is evidence against that argument.
Then again, I can understand not wanting to give your frame a new coat. Perhaps you can’t afford it or justify the cost. Or you don’t care about looks or don’t believe your frame will rust or corrode away.
I think the reason the owner of this bike might have had for not painting it is self-explanatory.
I tried to get better photos, but the position in which it was parked, between a scooter and a building, foiled my efforts. You probably can see, however, how well that rust-streaked frame goes with the brown rims and saddle.