On my first foray outside my apartment this year, I saw a bike I'd never before seen:
On first glance, it seems like a typical European city bike. But a few interesting details caught my eye.
The "strings" of the skirt guard are in a color meant, I think, to match the frame, which is a fairly muted shade of chartreuse. However, the color brightened, almost to the point of being a neon shade, in those strands.
Could it be that this green bike is solar?
The hub is a three-speed coaster brake model from, I believe, Sachs. That company's coaster brake hub is now, of course, manufactured by Velosteel in the Czech Republic.
Now, I'm going to test your knowledge of old European city bikes. Can you guess what this is?
Here's a hint:
On the fork is a light or generator bracket commonly found on European city bikes as well as some of the old English three-speeds. The hole with the black plug on the down tube is a conduit for a wire. I'm guessing that a generator mounted on the fork bracket and the wire ran inside the frame to a taillight. Said generator and tail light are absent: The bike's owner had a modern " blinky" attached to the rear and a modern battery-powered headlight attached to the handlebar.
According to the head badge and a label on the seat tube, this bike was manufactured in West Germany--which, of course, automatically makes it at least two decades old. I wonder, though, whether "Air Wing" was a bike brand intended for the German market, or whether it was meant for English-speaking countries. If the latter were the case, it would be very interesting, as few bikes like it found their way to the US--or, I imagine, England or Australia.
On my way home today, I saw two interesting bikes. Both are European. I know that one is from the 1970's; I believe the other is. Beyond that, though, they are interesting for very different reasons.
I espied the first one when I stopped in Greenpoint Bikes on Manhattan Avenue, near the Pulaski Bridge. There I was greeted by a friendly young man who didn't mind my browsing or photographing this bike:
Actually, it's the bike in the middle. As in many shops in the area, space is at a premium, so I didn't ask whether I (or he) could move the bikes, although I think he would have obliged me.
The green machine is a TMS. At least, it's the only brand marking I could find. The friendly young man believes it is German and from the 1970's, which makes sense, given what I know about such bikes. The lugwork was clean and neat, and the paint well-applied in an attractive color scheme. What really caught my eye, though was a particular detail:
It looked as though the white stripe was painted (or otherwise applied) to the fender at the factory. That detail is even more striking, I think, on the rear fender:
The bike, as one might expect, is solid and sturdy, not light. Those characteristics are typical of German bikes of that time: They were well-made and often attractive, but utilitarian rather than sportive.
The second bike I saw, parked near PS 1, clearly belongs to the "sportive" category. In fact, it was one of the better racing bikes available in its price range in the early to mid-1970's.
If I'm not mistaken, it's a Gitane Tour de France from sometime around 1975 to 1978. I make this judgment based on the paint finish and decals, which look original and are consistent with that time:
Also, the bike is made from Reynolds 531 tubing and has a Stronglight 93 cotterless crank, which was original equipment on that bike (as well as the Peugeot PX-!0E). It was actually quite nice: strong, brightly polished and lighter than even Campagnolo's offerings.
(I apologize for this image and the others; I took them with my cell phone.)
One extremely interesting detail is the way the brake cable "tunnels" are brazed to the top tube:
On most bikes, the "tunnels" are brazed down the center (top) of the top tube. However, Gitane brazed them to the right side, which allows for a more direct line to the brake (a Campagnolo sidepull). Of course, the advantage of this would be lost if a brake that pulled on the right side, or a centerpull, were used.
The tunnels lead me to believe this is a later-production Tour de France, as the earlier-production TdFs use the clips you see on so many old racing bikes.
It seems that every time I ride through "Hipster Hook," I see more and more interesting bikes that aren't variations on the "hipster fixie." And the area is about as rich in bike shops as any I've seen: Within blocks of Greenpoint Bikes are about a half-dozen other shops, including B's Bikes, which has become one of my favorites. Greenpoint looks very promising as well.
Not so long ago, there weren't any bike shops in the area at all: If you were to ride from Astoria to Brooklyn, you wouldn't see another shop until you got into the neighborhood around Pratt Institute, a distance of about seven miles. And you wouldn't see very many cyclists. Now it's turning into Amsterdam on the Hudson. It will be interesting to see what happens when those cyclists--most of whom are in their 20's or 30's age. Will they stay in the neighborhood and continue to ride the bikes they have? Or will they stop riding, or move? Or will some as-yet-unenvisioned type of bicycle be invented and sweep as-yet-unborn cyclists off their feet (or pedals)?
Whatever happens, I expect to see more interesting bikes--and cyclists--along the way.
What's that about letting sleeping dogs lie?
They are under...a broomstick, a couple of trees and a clear blue sky. Seriously, they are under the care of a couple of park rangers at the old Fort TIlden site, which is part of the Gateway National Recreation Area.
Lakythia and I rode there, among other places, along the ocean. I can tell already that she's a real friend: At Rockaway Beach, she saw me in a bathing suit and didn't flinch. As this is a family publication (ha, ha), I won't post a photo of that, or of me when I was soaking wet. However, I will post a photo of her. She's absolutely radiant, just having returned from two weeks of voyaging along the Italian coast.
At Rockaway Beach, we feasted on the round loaf of whole wheat bread I bought in Parisi's Bakery, a mozzerella and tomato salad I brought and a tortellini salad she brought. Now, just because my last name is Valinotti, I don't want you to read any bias into what I'm going to say next: You really can measure the level of civilization of any nation by the amount of olive oil and garlic it uses in its national cuisine. ;-)
All right, there are other things that determine how civilized a society is, such as the transport bikes (or lack thereof). This one, as best I can tell, is either German or Dutch. The few inscriptions on it were in what looked like German. I tried to photograph them, but none of the inscriptions are legible in the photos.
However, I thought the headlight was attached in an interesting place, in an interesting way:
I don't think this bike had a hub generator. Rather, it seems to have had a bottle-type generator mounted to the front fork. There was a brazed-on tab for one, and it looked as if the generator had been mounted at some point. Was it stolen? Or was it removed for a repair?
I was curious to know more about the bike. But sometimes I guess it is better to let sleeping dogs lie.
