A Pinarello's Replacement On The Campus Bike Rack

In one of my early blog posts, I mentioned seeing a Pinarello on a campus where I worked.  I contrasted it with the near-absence of bicycles on another campus in which I worked, and that whenever I parked at the latter campus, my bike--even Marianela, the old Schwinn LeTour III on which I was commutig--was by far the best.

Well, the young man who used to ride the Pinarello has graduated.  But, yesterday, I saw another bike that surprised me almost as much as seeing that Pinarello did.

Seeing a late-model Cannondale, particularly in an upper middle-class suburban area like the neighborhood that surrounds the campus, is not remarkable in and of itself.  Seeing a Cannondale track bike is somewhat more unusual but, again, not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

What shocked me was how well-equipped that bike was.  Most track, fixie or single-speed bikes parked in campus bike racks have serviceable, but not spectacular components.  However, this Cannondale sported Mavic Ellipse track wheels, an FSA carbon crankset, a Ritchey Pro seat post, Salsa stem and Nitto bars.  

The only components that seemed incongruent were the flat pedals, intended for downhill mountain biking, made by Crank Brothers (makers of the Egg Beater pedals).  Don't get me wrong:  They're a high-quality component.  But they did seem odd on a bike that otherwise seemed to be built for the velodrome.

I wasn't able to get a better angle to take close-up shots because a motorcycle was parked next to the Cannondale.  But I think you can see why it stood out even in a bike rack that has hosted a Pinarello--and Vera, my green Mercian mixte.

Easin' On Down The Road To Hell (Gate)

I'm off to ride my bikeee....and then I'm gonna ease on down, ease on down the road.

OK, you ask, why have I just mangled theme songs from two classic movies.  Well, it has to do with this photo:

One of the few things I have in common with Diana Ross is that I've crossed this bridge.  One difference is that the bridge didn't look like that when she crossed it.    Instead, it looked like this:

This image, of course, comes from the movie version of The Wiz.  It's one of those things that worked much better on stage that it did on celluloid.   The best things about the movie, to me, were "Ease On Down The Road" and Michael Jackson's portrayal of the Scarecrow.  Diana Ross, oddly enough, didn't lend any of her otherworldly charisma to the character of Dorothy, much less portray the character convincingly.  It was a shame:  I've seen her do a much better job as an actress, not to mention as a singer.


In the end, the movie seemed like a shameless attempt to cash in on the popularity of Blaxploitation films that had been popular for a few years before it was made.  Instead, it helped to kill off the genre.


Anyway...You didn't come here to see me do a bad imitation of Siskel or Ebert--or Pauline Kael.  I'll tell you that the bridge in question links Ward's Island with East 103rd Street in Manhattan.  

It's one of the oddest and most interesting structures in New York City--or anywhere.  To my knowledge, it's the only bridge in New York that's dedicated entirely to pedestrian and bicycle traffic.  No motor vehicles are allowed.  It's also odd and interesting for another reason:

As you can see from this photo, which I borrowed from The Bowery Boys, the section between the two towers is lifted when a ship needs to pass underneath the bridge.  The bridge is kept in this position through the winter and is therefore closed to bicycles and pedestrians.


Ward's Island is also a strange place.  There's a big mental hospital on it and, technically, it's no longer an island:  It was connected by landfill to Randall's Island, which is known for its sports venues and as the stage for le Cirque du Soleil.


Ward's and Randall's have a number of paths, some of which are paved, that zig-zag with the shorelines of the East and Harlem Rivers.   They also contain fields used by youth soccer and baseball leagues, a training facility for the Fire Department and a wastewater treatment plant that, at times, fills the islands with the scent of cologne poured down a septic tank.  


The two islands also sit between Manhattan, Queens and the Bronx.  All are connected by the RFK Memorial (formerly known as the Triboro) Bridge, which is really a system of three different spans that all meet on Randall's Island.  


There's also a spot where, a little birdie tells me, more than a few New Yorkers were conceived:

It's underneath a bridge over which you've passed if you've taken the Acela (Amtrak Customers Expect Late Arrivals) between New York and Boston.  

Yes, it's the Hell Gate Bridge, which begins near Astoria Park, which is near my home. 


Might Charon himself be the pilot of the lead boat?

Going this way?:

See what happens when you stay up late nights reading The Inferno and drinking espresso?  Hmm....Imagine what would have happened if all those English public school kids grew up reading it instead of Pilgrim's Progress.  Maybe punk rock would have happened 300 years before Richard Hell (I just had to include him in this post!) and Sid Vicious.


Anyway...While we're still in Hell Gate, I want to show you something you definitely wouldn't have seen in a 1970's  Schwinn ad:

Ignaz Schwinn would be spinning (pun intended) in his grave!  This is more like what he would have had in mind:

No wonder 20-year olds weren't buying Schwinns in 1978.  (Trust me, I know:  I was one!)  


Some things never change, though.  In those days, everyone said the world was going to hell in a handbasket.  And our parents and teachers thought we were leading the way.  Really, though, we were just easin' on down the road:  We could, because the world was a simpler place.  Or so we think now.

Hair and Tatoos

Today I rode the LeTour to work for the first time.   I was running a bit late--or, at least, I left my place a bit later than I'd planned--and forgot to bring my camera with me.  So I have no photos of myself or the bike or the commute.  But I'll tell you a bit about it.

First, fashion:  I feel as if I cheated a bit here.  I didn't ride in a skirt and heels.  Rather, I wore a sundress and my Keen sandals.  In a tote bag I stashed in my rear basket, I carried a short cardigan from a dusty blue twinset.   When I got to work, I slipped it over my dress, which was black with a hibiscus flower print in varying shades of blue.  One of those shades matched the sweater from the twinset, more or less.  And I also brought a pair of somewhat dressy black wedge sandals.  


I was glad to be wearing the sundress, as it was hot (though not as humid as yesterday).  And, of course, the Keen sandals were very comfortable.  


I didn't have any wardrobe malfunctions.  But the bike had a bit of a mishap.  Actually, it wasn't the bike itself; it was the rear rack.  The bolts that fasten the body of the rack to the arms that connect it to the seat stays fell out.  That caused my rack to flip backward and land on my fender.


Fortunately for me, I had just passed a hardware store, where I bought a package of screws and nuts, some lock washers and blue Loctite.  I've stopped there a few times before, as it's along one of my routes to and from work and other places.  Sometimes the guy behind the counter is an oldish Russian Jew who looks the way Alexander Solzhenitsyn (sp?) might have had he shaved.  But today I got this guy who is covered with tatoos and whose yellowing white hair  is longer than mine and beard is longer than mine ever was.  It's really odd to find him in that shop because it's at the corner of Metropolitan and 71st Avenues in Forest Hills, which is possibly the most resolutely bourgeois part of the city.  But he knows his stuff and is very helpful, which is one reason why his shop stays in business.


At one time in my youth, my hair was almost as long as that of the man in the hardware store.  And my beard, while not as long as his, was thick around my jaws and chin.   With all of the anger I felt in those days, I didn't need tatoos (which I've never gotten and probably never will get) or studded jacket to help me project an aura that said, "Stay the ---- away from me!"  I was like a cross between Charles Bronson and a hippie without the charm of either.


One hot day, I was riding my bike to my parents' house.  At the time, I was living in the town where I attended college (New Brunswick, NJ) and my parents were living on the Jersey Shore.  It was a thirty to thirty-five mile ride, depending on which route  I took.


Well, on that day, I peeled off my bike jersey before  I passed through Milltown, after which one of the early sedative drugs was named.  At that time, it was noted in the area for cops that were rumored to have been recruited in Alabama or from the KKK.  


One of those redneck officers actually pulled me over when I was riding along one of the streets.  In those days I didn't carry ID with me; most people didn't. 


"What are you doin' here?"


It took everything I had not to answer him sarcastically. But, fortunately for me, I managed to check that impulse.  


"What are you doin' here?"


"Riding my bicycle, sir."



"To where?"


"My mother's."


"All right.  Have a good day."


I haven't thought about that encounter in more than twenty years.  Now I wonder:  What would it have been like if I were covered with tatoos.

An Orange Bike

I've got the LeTour in rideable condition.  I'm still going to tweak it a bit.  But it's close to what I want it to be.


Early this evening, after the weather had cooled a bit, I took it on a test ride through the back streets of Astoria and Long Island City.  I ended up in Astoria Park, which is separated from Manhattan, Randall's Island and the Bronx by a strait known as Hell Gate.


This bridge is named for the passage it spans. Do you think it looks like a gate to Hell?:

If you've taken the Amtrak/Acela between Boston and New York, you've gone over this bridge.  The span behind it is the Queens-to-Randalls Island spur of the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge, which was known as the Triboro Bridge until a couple of years ago.


The waters are deceptively calm.  The strong undercurrent wrecked ships and drowned sailors, which is how the passage got its name.


But you didn't come to this blog to read about that, right?  You want to read about a middle-aged woman riding a bike she just fixed, don't you?


Well, the bike is actually a smooth, almost cushy ride.  Yet it feels very solid.  That last part didn't surprise me:  Schwinn had a reputation for building sturdy bikes, and this one was made in Japan by Panasonic.  The second shop in which I worked sold Panasonics, and I assembled a couple hundred of them.  Even their cheapest models were easier to assemble, and required less tweaking, than most other bikes.  


It won't be as responsive as my Mercians.  It wasn't designed that way.  But I have the feeling it will be very satisfactory for errands and commutes.


When I got to Astoria Park, I made another interesting discovery about the bike.  It's an aesthetic consideration.  


If you've been reading this or my other blog, you have some idea about my tastes in colors.  I like purple, especially lavender, lilac and violet, best.  I also favor most shades of blue, green and pink.  But I can see why  orange is a popular bike color.  I actually think this bike looks better in orange than in the other colors in which Schwinn offered the Le Tour series.  Even more interesting, though, is a quality revealed in this photo:

As ratty as the paint job is, it still has a nice glow to it in the dusk light.  In a way, it made me think of all of those weatherbeaten and even somewhat grimy brick buildings that mirror the sun setting at the end of the day.

OK, so this one came out a bit darker than I hoped it would.  But here's another shot, taken in the same light, of the bike:

And here's one taken a bit earlier:

As I mentioned, the bike is almost complete.  I'm going to add a bell to the handlebar (the Velo Orange Milan Bar which, so far, I really like on this bike) and a pair of Wald folding baskets to the rear rack. I have a feeling those might be the best solution for commuting as well as shopping:  I can simply put grocery bags or my bookbag into one or the other.


Until next time....I'll spare you the cliches about riding into the sunset or crossing that bridge when I get to it!

Reconstructing

I ordered some ball bearings from an eBay seller; they came today.  Soon I'll start putting the Schwinn back together.  


I'm trying to keep as many of the original parts on it as I can. However, I'm not at all interested in historical authenticity, as I plan to use the bike for errands and such, and it will spend a lot of time parked on streets.  Plus, the paint is in such rough shape that re-painting it would mean that it's not period-correct, anyway.


Of course, I'm replacing the things that should be replaced:  brake cables and pads, and tires.  And I'm changing the handlebars to the Milan bars I got from Velo Orange.


Probably my biggest indulgence on the bike will be the Velo Orange fenders.  Actually, they're not expensive--maybe five dollars or so more than plastic fenders.  But they look like a luxury.  At least I can justify them:  Metal fenders have always lasted longer than plastic ones for me.  


As I talk about rebuilding a bike, I am still thinking about what I noticed the other day:  the absence of female cyclists in some parts of this city. Even in neighborhoods like mine, or Park Slope or Williamsburg or any other neighborhood where one is likely to find women on bikes, there aren't many my age.  And,  I suspect, there are even fewer women of my age, or any age, who are tearing apart and rebuilding a bike, as I am.  


For that matter, there aren't very many women who've taken the sorts of bike tours that I've taken, or had the amount and breadth of cycling experience I have.  

I can't help but to wonder:  Had I been born with XX chromosomes and raised as a female, would I be reconstructing the Schwinn?  Would I have been able to specify how I wanted my Mercians to be built?  And, would I have--a week after getting my undergraduate degree--gotten on a plane to London with my bike, a couple of changes of clothes, my camera, a couple of notebooks and a few packs of condoms?  


If I hadn't taken that trip, would I have taken the others?  Would I be cycling today?

Flaneurs, And A Project Or A Patient

Here is what I am greeted with at the end of my rides:

OK, so that's what they're made to do:  taking it easy.  Can't fault their fashion sense, either.  The smug-looking guy on his side is Max; the one with the "You talkin' to me?" pose is Charlie.

Here are Arielle and Tosca resting for the night.


And here is my latest patient, I mean, project:

This is the Schwinn I bought from that charming young couple last week.  As I do whenever I buy a used bike, I'm taking everything apart.  I opened up the headset, which, I believe, has never been cleaned.  What I didn't realize is that it has loose bearings rather than ring-shaped retainers with bearings.  So the bearings scattered to the four corners of the floor.  (How is it that you can completely lose something inside a 12X 12 room?)  I'll find them some day.  But the ones I have look like Ignaz Schwinn installed them himself.  


The only problem is that I don't have any 5/32" bearings in the house.  My other bikes have sealed cartridge bearings, so I haven't used loose ball bearings in a while.  And the shop in which I stopped during my ride didn't have them, either.  


Like the truth in The X Files, they're out there.  I just have to find the right shop.  I'm sure Bicycle Habitat has them.  If I don't find them elsewhere, I'll go to Habitat next time I'm in Soho--which should be soon.


Speaking of which...They got word that my Miss Mercian frame has been built.  Now it has to be painted.  That actually is a fairly long process.  But, hopefully, I'll have it by the end of next month.

"New" Bike

So far, you may have noticed two things:  my favorite colors (purple, green, pink and blue) and my favorite bike maker (Merican).

Well, the bike I bought the other night is neither of those things.  That's probably a good thing--or, at least, it's a good thing that it's not a Mercian.  That's because I plan to park it on the streets.

It's a Schwinn LeTour III from 1978 or thereabouts.  I bought the bike because the frame is bigger than most step-through frames made today.  I'm amazed that most stop at about 20 inches (50 cm):  If anything, there are more women of my size (horizontally as well as vertically) than there were thirty years ago.

Also, I decided to buy it because it's a solid bike.  It's not light or fancy, but it will, I think, do the job I want it to do.  

Schwinn's LeTour series bikes were made in Japan by Panasonic.  Most of you associate Panasonic with electrical appliances and electronic goods.  But they made some very fine bikes, including the ones they made for PDM, one of the most prominent cycling teams of the 1980's.

This photo shows the roughest part of the paint job and an interesting feature this bike shared with some other women's and mixte frames of that era.  

Notice how the rear center-pull brake is mounted, and the long straddle cable.  This eliminates the need for routing the cable up the seat tube and back down again into a stop.  It's not only an aesthetic consideration:  The up-and-down cable configuration is one of the reasons why the rear brakes on so many women's and mixte frames didn't work very well.  I guess the bike builders figured that a good rear brake wasn't necessary, for they probably believed there weren't very many fast women (on bikes, anyway!).

The Schwinn Aprroved-branded brake is a standard Dia Compe centerpull, which is a Japanese-made clone of the Swiss Weinmann centerpull, which was found on Motobecanes, Raleighs and countless other European bikes of that time.

Even though I'm not going to paint the bike, I plan to modify it considerably.  I'm getting a pair of Milan bars and city brake levers, as well as a pair of fenders, from Velo Orange. (I highly recommend VO:  They have excellent products at fair prices, and Chris is a very nice guy.) I placed the order today:  Actually, I returned a seatpost I bought from them but didn't use.  (It's a good seatpost; it just has more setback than I needed.)  And, I also plan to turn the bike into a single-speed.  But it won't be a "fixie"; rather, it will have a single freewheel.  I have used them on commuter and "beater" bikes before, and I like them because they're simple and, most of the time, I don't need anything more for quick local rides.  

I also plan to add a rear rack and front basket.