8 Years Already!

So why am I posting a picture of an 8 year old girl?

From Thanks, Mail Carrier

Well, she looks really cute on that bike. But she is relevant to this blog.  Better yet, she has something in common with it.

What?, you ask.

Midlife Cycling turns 8 years old today.   I wrote my first post on 2 June 2010.  I'm still "at it," 2567 posts later.  And I'll keep it up as long as I enjoy it.  Since I've never stopped loving cycling or writing, I don't think I'll lose the pleasure I've found in this blog and you, my audience.

So what has changed?  Writers are the worst judges of their own work, but I'm guessing that this blog has developed a "voice", whatever it may be.  In the beginning, I was probably making some effort to imitate other bike blogs I'd read, especially ones written by women. (I'm thinking particularly of Lovely Bicycle.) But I am a very different sort of woman, and cyclist, so I realized that I could do no more or less than follow my own instincts and inclinations.  Sometimes I write about my own trips or bikes; other times I write about other people's rides and machines; still other times I veer into topics that don't have much of a relationship to cycling.  Others will judge the results, but I am happy to be writing this blog and that others are reading it.

Aside from the blog itself, some other things in my life have changed since I started.  For one thing, I now have four bikes I didn't have back then:  Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special; Vera, the twin-tube Miss Mercian mixte I bought about a year after I started this blog; Josephine, the Trek 412 estate-sale find and Martie, the Fuji Allegro that's become my commuter/errand bike.  And I no longer have Helene, the Miss Mercian I bought not long after I started this blog, and the two Schwinn LeTours I acquired and used as commuter/errand bikes.

Oh, and I now have one cat, Marlee, who wasn't even born when I wrote that first post.  Sadly, Charlie and Max, my feline buddies back then, are gone.  

On a happier note:  I have taken, in addition to hundreds of day rides, trips abroad which have included cycling: Prague, Paris (twice), Italy (Rome and Florence) and Montreal.  And I've been to Florida a number of times to visit my parents but also to enjoy some warm-weather riding in the middle of winter.  

I don't know what changes and adventures lie ahead.  All I know is that you'll read about them here!

The Hills, The Wind Or The Cold: Why Do (Or Don't) People Ride?

In recent posts, I’ve noted that I’ve seen few—sometimes no—bike riders who weren’t making deliveries.  If you thought it was just a way of saying that I wasn’t riding, I won’t try to dissuade you from such a perception.

For much of the past couple of weeks, conditions on many New York City streets were simply dangerous for any wheeled vehicle.  There was ice everywhere and the effective width of some streets was cut, sometimes in half, by the piled-up snow and ice.

The last couple of weeks is the longest stretch I’ve spent off my bike since I was recovering from surgery four years ago.  A lot of other cyclists can probably make a similar claim.

That got me to thinking about the difference between weather and climate, and about terrain. 

In most places, there is seasonal variation in the number of people who ride bicycles, whether to commute, shop, race or simply for fun.  Put simply, fewer people ride when it’s cold and/or wet.

However, the places where the greatest number of people ride regularly are not necessarily the ones that have the most days of sunshine or the warmest winters every year.  Here in the United States, we see more cycling in New England than in the South, more riders in New York, Boston—or, of course, Portland-- than, say, in Miami, Tampa or Albuquerque.  In Europe, the most cycling-intensive and –friendly cities are found in the north—Amsterdam and Copenhagen immediately come to mind---rather than in Greece or even Italy.  And there are, from what I’ve seen, there are fewer everyday riders in Rome or Madrid than in rainier and cooler London and Paris.

From SFGate

As for terrain:  When I was in Prague, a few locals confirmed my impression that a cycling culture was just beginning there and that, while cyclists in the Czech capital are committed and enthusiastic, it will be a while before they have the kind of infrastructure—in terms of human and informational as well as physical resources—bikers in Berlin (the example they most cited) enjoy.  One reason, according to those Prague pedalers, is that the city is hillier than most others in Europe. 

That reason seems plausible enough:  A lot of people would indeed be deterred from cycling if they have to climb a steep hill to get wherever they’re going.  That would also partly explain the fact that I saw so few cyclists when I was in Istanbul a few years ago.  (In the former Ottoman capital, there are also cultural factors that would discourage cycling.)  On the other hand, San Francisco—one of the most vertical cities in the world-- has had a community and culture of cycling for much longer than most other places in the United States, including such pancake-flat places as Kansas.

(It occurs to me now that San Francisco’s street grid simply makes no sense in such a hilly place, but it would be perfectly suited for most towns in the Great Plains.)

So I wonder:  Why is it that, discounting for seasonal differences, places with less-favorable climates and terrains develop vibrant cycling cultures while seemingly-ideal places don’t?

Why Can't We Have Thai Massage And Bowling In Queens?

So...Back in the good ol' USA, my Internet connection has been out for three out of five days.  It's nice to be back in the technological leader of the world, isn't it?

OK, I'll end the gratuitous sarcasm.  I guess I'm suffering from a kind of post-partum depression about my trip.  I really want to be back in Prague--with at least one of my bikes, of course.


The weather has been a bit warmer than what I experienced in Prague, and it's been raining on and off, it seems, all of this week.  Astoria's not a bad place to be, but when the skies are gray, I want a Gothic skyline. At least, that's how I feel now that I've seen Prague.

I must confess:  I haven't been on my bike since I got back.  I'm doing now what I did after each bike tour I took abroad, I guess.  After cycling among scenery you wouldn't see in Brooklyn or Queens, and ending each ride with food they don't have here, it's kind of difficult to get used to the mundane--or, at least, what's mundane in your own life--again. I guess, though, once I start riding again, I'll appreciate seeing street signs I can read, not to mention asphalt instead of cobblestones and tram tracks.


Now, here's something you won't find in Queens:

Rainbows And A Full Moon

This has nothing to do with cycling.  Well, I guess it does, because it's about Prague and I did ride in Prague.  


All right, you're not convinced that there's a connection.  Do you care?  You really are looking at this post to see this:

I mean, how can you beat a trip to Prague that includes two rainbows and a full moon on the final night?  No wonder I enjoyed cycling there so much, even if I was riding a bike nothing like any I own over cobblestones and tram tracks, up and down hills.


After all of that, how could I not want to go back?  

First Ride In Prague

All right, I admit it.  I didn't end up with a guy named Vaclav. Instead, I spent  part of yesterday afternoon with a cute Czech cyclist named Michael:

He's a law student at Charles University in this town.  He speaks beautiful English and, surprisingly, pretty good Spanish.  And, as you may have guessed by now, yesterday he guided me on my very first bike ride in Prague.  


So, here's the answer to a question you may (or may not) have asked:

Yes, it's the bike I rode.  The alternatives were a single-speed cruiser and a mountain bike of a brand I didn't recognize.  I didn't mind the lack of a name brand nearly as much as the poor fit the mountain bike was for me.  


I don't know who made the bike I rode.  I doubt it was made in the Czech Republic; I'm not sure that any bicycles are still being made here.  For the kind of bike it is, it felt pretty good.  

The traffic didn't scare me too much. But the trolley tracks did.  It's so easy to get a tire, even a wide one, caught in the grooves or to scrape the sides of the knobs against the tracks, and to tumble over.  

Nothing like that happened on our ride through the central part of the city.   At least I know now about the tracks, and other hazards.  But more important, I started to see this beautiful city from one of the best possible angles.

A Prague Leg-acy

Well, I'm back...on this blog, I mean.  I am in Prague and so far this place is delightful.  I can see why people told me I'd love it here.  I mean, I got into the car that took me from the airport to my hotel, and the first thing I heard on the radio was a Dvorak symphony.  I mean, how can you beat that for an entrance into a city.  

As I listened, I "conducted" with my hands, as I often do.  The driver, a man about ten years my senior who spoke about five words of English, just gave me a smile.  "You like Dvorak," he said.  I nodded and smiled.

The hotel is in a quiet residential neighborhood a few minutes from the center of the city.  I compare the neighborhood to the 20th Arrondisment of Paris, where I once stayed, or what the 14th used to be like, except that this neighborhood is even closer to the action than either the 14th or the 20th of Paris.  The similarity lies in its apartment complexes and small houses full of working- and middle-class people, and the fact that it's so quiet in spite of the number of pubs and bars around here.

I also marvel at how clean and litter-free the streets are, even in comparison to other European towns I've seen. Plus, the mode of dress, among Prague natives as well as tourists, seems to be neat-casual with some style,  but not the self-consciousness one sees in Paris.  

Plus, I've been surprised at how easy it's been to find people who speak at least some English.  I tried giving myself a crash-course in some basic Czech phrases, but I haven't gotten much past "Prosim" and " Ano."  At least those words have vowels in them!  

Some of the older people speak German, of which I don't know much more than I know of Czech.  I know they had to learn Russian in school back in the days of Communist rule, but either they've forgotten it or don't want to speak it.  I can understand, and I can't speak Russian, anyway.

All right...enough of a travelogue.  Since this is a bike blog, I  am coming back to that subject.  More precisely, I'm going to show you a bike that was parked down the hill from my hotel:

It's a Favorit bicycle, which looks to be from the '70's or the late '60's.  The first shop in which I worked actually sold a few of these bikes; not many came into that shop, or the United States.  Their basic models, like this one, were actually pretty good bikes that compared favorably with, and cost less than, bikes like the Raleigh Grand Prix and Peugeot UO-8.  The paint jobs were not very inspiring, but the lug work was clean, if not fancy.  And Favorit made some higher-end bikes with some truly nice lugwork and elegant seat clusters.  It was rumored that their higher-end bikes were made of Reynolds 531 tubing; I would not have a hard time believing it because I rode one of those bikes and it had a very similar feel to some other bikes I've ridden that were made from the same tubing.  Also, Favorit were using Campagnolo Record (and, later, Nuovo Record and Super Record) components on their top racing model, and offered a  model that was equipped with Stronglight cranks and other mid-to-upper-range French components.  The components on the company's mid- and lower-level were their own brand but mimicked Campagnolo, Stronglight, Mafac and other western makers' equipment of the time.

They even made (or had made for them) their own brand of saddles which, like others of the time, mimicked Brooks and Ideale design and actually had leather that was a bit thicker.  

I must say, though, it's been a long time since I've seen a saddle mounted so far forward on a bike!

Enough about the bike for now.  And now to the legacy of racing in this country:

Anticipation: Cycling in Prague

In four more days, I'm leaving for Prague.  As you might imagine, I've been reading what I can about cycling the city.  And the comments on everything--from facilities to guided tours to cycling itself--are very mixed.  I guess that's not surprising, given what a metropolis Prague is.


One interesting insight offered by the Lonely Planet guide is that while cycling is becoming more popular, and the city is building bike lanes and doing other things to make cycling more popular and safer, and viable for commuting, things are nowhere near as good as they are in Vienna and some of the German, Dutch and Scandinavian cities.  Part of the reason for that, the LP editors say, is that while the central city is flat, it is surrounded by hills, which makes commuting from the outskirts less enticing for most people.  Also, they say, the lanes don't yet form a unified system that the lanes in other European cities are.   


Of course, comments like those aren't going to stop me.  Whatever they have in Prague, it must be better than just about any American city--and many European cities--had twenty or thirty years ago.  One thing that sounds familiar is the warning LP and a few other sources give:  Czech drivers are anti-cyclist.  As if they aren't in other places!


What I have decided is that I'm going to rent a bike.  If I were going to be away for longer, or if I were going on a tour or a cycle-camping trip, I'd want to bring one of my own bikes.  But, as a general rule, I like to travel as light as possible and, in these days of "security" measures and airline policies that seem increasingly capricious, I want to make everything as simple as possible.  For example, whenever I go to see my parents in Florida, I take only a carry-on bag with me, even if I'm going for ten days, as I did during the most recent Christmas season.


I still haven't decided, though, whether to take a guided bicycle tour. I might take one for my first ride there, as I've never been in Prague before and know only a few basic phrases in Czech and German.  (I once knew some more German, but it has all but disappeared from disuse.  On the other hand, I have had numerous occasions to use my French and Spanish.)  However, the reviews I've read of read of various guided tours are even more mixed than what I've read about cycling generally in Prague.  


I'm sure, though, that cycling there will be interesting.  How could it not be if people park bikes in places like this?:

Czeching Out My Options

Some of the more interesting experiences I've had were results of plans that changed unexpectedly.  Something like that seems to be happening again.


I had expected to teach a short course for July and part of August.  However, that course has been cancelled.  C'est la vie.  Also, the plans of a friend I was going to visit in Paris changed.  I could have gone there anyway and spent my time walking or cycling the streets and lingering in the museums (especially the Rodin, Picasso and d'Orsay) and galleries.  But, as I've lived in the City of Light and returned several times, I would have preferred to have done those things with my friend.


So, deciding I wanted some adventure in the time I had off this summer, I booked a trip to Prague. 


Now I am trying to make a decision.  You might have already guessed what it is.  Should I:

• bring one of my bikes with me,
• rent a bike 
• buy a bike there (I even thought about buying a cheap one and selling it or giving it away when I leave), or
• buy a cheap bike, bring it with me and leave it there?

I returned from my last European bike tour--in the Alps--a few weeks before 9/11.  That was also the last time I brought a bike on a flight.  Things were relatively simple then, at least on international flights.  Passengers were allowed two checked pieces of luggage, with a maximum weight of 44 kilograms (70 pounds.)  A bicycle in a box or carrier was counted as one of those pieces of luggage.  Air France and KLM, in particular, were accommodating to cyclists (Are you surprised?) but I never had trouble on other carriers I used, including Air India, Tower Air (remember them?) or Laker Skytrain (R.I.P.)


Lately, though, I've heard some horror stories from people who brought their bikes on flights.  They don't include what airlines charge for doing so.  It seems that policies regarding such things are made in situ by whoever happens to be on duty.


As I'm spending ten days in Prague, and don't plan to spend all day every day on a bike loaded with panniers and such, I'm not quite as fussy about what I'll ride.  I want it to more or less fit, of course, and to be at least reasonably satisfying (to me, anyway) to ride. 


This is one time having a Brompton might have been handy.  I thought about buying one a while back.  But Hal, who set up my Mercians said that while he is satisfied with the quality of the bikes (Bicycle Habitat, in which he works, sells them.), he doesn't like the fact that they have proprietary parts that are necessitated by some of the nonstandard dimensions of the bike.   Also, while some Brompton riders have told me they like their rides, what they and others have told me indicates that the bikes still have some of the qualities I disliked (some of which have to do with the ride) in folding bikes I've owned  and ridden.


I guess I could stretch (and hopefully not blow) my budget and buy a Brompton. Or I could buy some less expensive folding bike.  Or I could do one of the things I listed earlier in this post.  Or I could stop beginning sentences with "or."  Seriously, if you have any suggestions, please let me know.


P.S. I had intended to post this last night.  But I had trouble with my Internet connection.  I guess that's the price one pays for being cheap:  My Internet connection is free.