A Parachute Jump From Wheels?

I love it when old bicycles get new life.  Whether it's a "period" or "showroom" restoration, or retrofitted with modern parts that suit the rider's purposes, I'm glad to see a nicely-crafted (or, at least, well-made) machine giving service and pleasure to someone.  At least it's not in a landfill!

I can't always say the same about old parts.  Some, I like and even prefer to new stuff.  But, really, unless you have almost any non-indexed SunTour derailleur, or one or two other "vintage" models I can think of, almost any modern derailleur will shift better--with or without indexing.  Used vintage cogs, chains, rims and spokes are often too worn or stressed for continued use.  And old tires, unless they've been stored properly, might be too brittle to ride.  

So what do you do with old parts?  Well, more than a few artists and crafts people make jewelry, sculptures and other objets from them.  Because there are so many such creations nowadays--many of which I like--I don't spend a lot of time writing about them.  But, every once in a while one of them will catch my eye.  

Jake Beckman made this 35-foot (11 meter) tall sculpture for the entrance to the Morgana Run Trail, which itself is "recycled":  It's built on a former Wheeling and Lake Erie Railway corridor in the Slavic Village neighborhood of Cleveland, Ohio.  

Now, of course, you might be thinking Beckman's sculpture caught my attention because its color scheme is after my own heart.  That is one reason why, but I also couldn't help thinking about a structure I see in a place where I ride rather frequently:

I wonder whether Beckman knew about the Parachute Jump on the Coney Island boardwalk when he conceived of his totem.  

The Library Bike

The cyclists I've known tended to read more than most other people.  Perhaps that's peculiar to the US, or the parts of it in which I've lived:  Here, cyclists who ride to work and for recreation are more likely to be college-educated professionals or creative people.  That is a contrast to much of the rest of the world, where blue-collar and lower-paid workers pedaled and the bicycle was abandoned as soon as a person could afford a car.

Whatever the reasons, I find myself discussing things that involve reading--whether writing, literature, history or other related subjects--with cyclists when I get to know them.  Some of us, I think, would love to combine the activities of reading and riding.  

Some of us have tried.  I used to have one of those wire stands that attached to the handlebars and held a book as you rode on your trainer or rollers.  The problem is that if we're readers, we read faster than we ride, no matter how well-conditioned we are.  So we can't pedal very many RPMs before we have to turn a page.  That's very difficult, especially if you're on rollers, even if you're very skilled at riding on them (which I was, once).  It's also not easy if you're doing a wind sprint and pedaling at, say, 200 RPMs.

The best most of us can do, I think, is to combine books and bikes rather than reading or writing.  Someone, it seems, at the Cleveland Public Library understands as much.  So he or she created a bookmobile that's pedaled into under-served neighborhoods:

 


The Book Bike contains three levels of shelving that can hold 260 pounds (!) of books. It even has bookmark, brochure and umbrella holders.  

 

The trike has a double parking brake, three speeds--and a white racing stripe on a snappy orange finish.  After all, a messenger--especially one bringing enlightenment and education--must be speedy!

(Note:  Although I have provided a link to the website on which I found these images, I have not used the name of that website, as it might offend some!)