As The Sun Sets On Newtown Creek, A Ross From The Land Of The Rising Sun

In Greenpoint, Brooklyn, Manhattan Avenue--one of the neighborhood's main throughfares--dead-ends at Newtown Creek.  One recent year, the Environmental Protection Agency declared it the nation's most polluted body of water. (In other years, the Gowanus Canal has garnered that distinction.)  But when it doesn't win "the Prize", the Creek is almost always listed among the most polluted bodies of water in the nation.

Of course, I don't think about that when a late day ride takes me there and I take in the views.

There's a nature walk along the creek.  By its side, at the end of Manhattan Avenue, there's a green patch with a fence around it that's a popular place to lock--and, it seems, abandon--bicycles.

Sometimes the bikes left there are rather interesting in their own ways.  For instance, there was this Ross 3-speed:

Ross was known mainly for making "muscle" bikes like the Barracuda (which was intended to compete with the likes of the Schwinn Krate and Raleigh Chopper) and some of the early production mountain bikes.   Their factories were located in Rockaway Beach, NY and Allentown, PA, before production moved to Taiwan.

However, during the 1960s--on the eve of the North American Bike Boom--Ross imported three-speed bikes from Japan.  At that time, few Americans owned or rode bikes with derailleurs.  Thus, most adults who rode--and kids who wanted something lighter than the baloon-tired "bombers" made by Schwinn and other American companies--preferred three-speed bikes, which were called "English racers".

Most of those bikes were made by the likes of Dunelt, Sunbeam, Robin Hood and other companies--and, of course, Raleigh, which would later acquire most of those marques and all but monopolize the remaining market for that type of bicycle.

However, as demand grew, those old English manufacturers couldn't keep up.  Thus, bikes were imported from Japan. One of my first bikes--a Royce-Union--was one of those English-style Japanese three-speeds.   As you can see in the photos, bike-makers in the Land of the Rising Sun did everything they could to emulate, if only visually, the "English Racers" that were so popular in the US and elsewhere.

(When Centurion ten-speeds first came to these shores in 1969, they could very easily be mistaken for Raleigh Grand Prix machines of the same year--unless, of course, one noticed the SunTour or Shimano derailleurs, as well as a few other details.  At that time, most Raleighs came with Simplex or Huret derailleurs.)

Some Japanese bikes came with leather saddles, also made in Japan, that resembled the offerings of Brooks, Ideale and other British and European makers.  I don't know whether the bikes made for Ross came with them (I can find practically no information about the bikes), but somehow I doubt it.  Even if it came with a leather saddle, I doubt it would have been this one:

You probably think it's a beat-up Brooks B72:  the saddle that came with many British three-speeds.  It does indeed have the same looped under-carriage rails and saddlebag slots built into the saddle.  And the top is the same size, and has the same shape as the B72, with a couple of exceptions:

It is indeed a B18. The embossed floral pattern at the top is wearing down.  I don't know whether it's from use or abandonment.  Somehow I don't think it's an original-production B18 from the 1930s, worn as it is.  The design was resurrected about a decade ago, as classic-style ladies' city bikes became popular.  The curled front is designed to prevent a skirt from getting caught on the saddle.

Whatever the story, the saddle is a nice addition to the bike, though I think it deserves better than to have bird poop on it.  I have to wonder, though, how the bike rides with this bar and stem combination:

That extension of that stem must be about 120mm.  That makes the steering more sensitive.  And, of course, the bars increase leverage.  I would be curious to ride the bike just to see how a bike that's not made for quick cornering rides with touchy steering.  Maybe it's a good combination for riding in traffic.

Anyway, I hope the bike isn't abandoned.  It may not be anyone's idea of a "great" or "classic" bike.  But it certainly is practical (except for those bars!) and I am always glad to see a bike like it in circulation.  At least, I hope, it won't become part of the detritus in Newtown Creek!

Ross: The Ramones' Lament?

If there is a cycling Nirvana, would all of the ugly places be airbrushed out of it?


A fact of life, at least in this part of the world, is that to ride to a beautiful place, you sometimes have to pass through some blighted spots.


Here is one I sometimes pass on my way to or from the Rockaways (as I did today) or Point Lookout:

In any industrialized country, you can find thousands (or even more) places like this. It's hard in the shadow, literally, of the MTA's Rockaway trestle, on which the A train rumbles and clatters.  Yes, that A train:  Duke Ellington's A train.  (I chose the link I included because on it, Ella Fitzgerald sings.  The slide show, ironically, shows pretty much every kind  of train except for the titular one.  It doesn't even show a NYC subway train!) This is nearly the opposite end of the line, literally and figuratively, of the subway route Ellington made famous.  Stay on the train for about an hour and a half and you'll be in Harlem, just a couple of stops from the line's terminus at the very northern end of Manhattan.


On the other side of that trestle are bungalows in various states of disrepair and the beach.


That beach is one you've heard of if you have even the most basic knowledge of 70's popular music:  It's the Rockaway Beach of the Ramones' eponymous song.  It sounds like a Beach Boys song as Brian Wilson might have played it while in withdrawal from something.


So, why should you care about any of this if you're a cyclist?


Well, not so long ago, the site in the photo was a rather important part of American cycling:  It was the home of the Chain Bicycle Corporation.


Now, if we'd had bicycle companies called Sprocket, Derailleur, Crank, Wheel or Frame, American cycling history might have been different.  How, I don't know.  But I digress.


You've probably seen, and you may have ridden,a bike that CBC made or sold.  CBC was the parent company of Ross bicycles.  Those bikes were sold in the first two bike shops in which I worked.  While I was working in my first shop, Ross bikes were at the lower end of the market:  sturdy bikes, mainly for kids, but also a few utility bikes.  They didn't have the cachet of Schwinn although many of their bikes were similar, and were aimed at similar audiences.

   If you're of my generation, you might remember a show called "Wonderama."  It was an extravaganza, marathon or ordeal, depending on your point of view, that aired all day Sunday, or so it seemed.  The show featured, among other things, games and competitions involving kids from the studio audience.  Ross Apollo bicycles were often given as prizes.

Anyway, after the vogue for "chopper" or "muscle" bikes passed, Ross started to aim for the more dedicated (and affluent) adult cyclists.  So, by the time I was working in my second shop, Ross was offering its "Signature" series of bicycles and frames, which seemed to be designed to compete with Schwinn's Paramount line.  The very best signature bikes were actually very nice.  They were built by Tom Kellogg, considered one of the best American custom builders of that time.  Most of those frames were constructed from Reynolds 531 tubing, though he occasionally made frames from Columbus and Ishiwata tubings.


I actually had one of those frames for a time.  It had been built as a kind of sport-touring frame.  But it, like the other "signature" bikes, was even more expensive than other premium bikes from top builders.  And people who were buying high-end touring bikes usually wanted cantilever brakes.  The frame did not have bosses for them.  So the owner of the shop sent the frame to Ross to have the bosses brazed on.  By that time, Tom Kellogg was no longer working for Ross.


The frame had been made for 700C wheels.  Ross, in its infinite wisdom, brazed on bosses for 26 inch wheels.  So it was even less salable than it had been; as a result, the shop's owner was willing to let me take it as pay for a couple of days' work, if I recall correctly.  I proceeded to build it up into a sort of cross between an audax/randonneuring bike and a mountain bike with slick tires.  


I rode that bike whenever I wasn't riding my racing bike.  It was a lot of fun:  I took it on trails, on the streets and in lots of other places.  Unfortunately, the fun didn't last very long:  About two years after I got it, I crashed it into the back of a taxi by the backside of Madison Square Garden/Penn Station.


By then, most, if not all, Rosses were being made in Taiwan.   I'm not sure whether they're still being made at all.  And, these days, it seems that anyone who's cycling through the Rockaways doesn't live there.