03 April 2013

A Serene Life On My Bike

One day, I was talking with someone I admired as an artist and took as a kind of spiritual adviser.  (I was young then.)  I asked her what she wanted most.  

I was expecting something deep and profound--or, at least, something that would have sounded deep and profound to me back then. (I think it was around the time I read Herman Hesse's Steppenwolf and Siddhartha.)  Here's what she said:

A simple life and innocent times.

Now, at the time I thought neither was possible--and, that, in fact, they were marketing tropes.  Yep, you can live the simple life if you can afford it, and you can have innocent times if your world is, well, a simple place.  The truth is, of course, that I never could have had innocent times because I wasn't so innocent and times were never simple because I was simpler than I was willing to acknowledge.

But I digress.  For the first time in decades, I thought of that encounter when I stumbled across this photo:





I can just imagine unrolling what's strapped to the saddle and unfurling myself on it, in a field where I might fill the basket on the front of the bike:



I guess there are actually people who live that way.  Goddess bless 'em.  (Hey, changing genders turned me into a feminist!)

Both photos come from the lovely blog A Serene Life For Me.

02 April 2013

The Persistence Of Dropped Top Tubes

What if Salvador Dali were hired to design a bike frame--and he only did the top tube?

The result might look something like this:


I had never before seen such a frame sporting Bianchi logos.  But now that I think of it, I'm not surprised.  The Bianchi in the photo was made in Japan for Bianchi during the 1980's.  Back then, the most famous Italian bicycle manufacturer was rebranding bikes built by Panasonic, Bridgestone and, it was rumoried, Miyata, for the US market.


When you look at this Panasonic closely, you realize why Bianchi made such a move.  During the 1970's and early 1980's, Japanese makers like the ones I've mentioned, and Fuji and Nishiki, took over much of the entry- and mid-level market for road and touring bikes in the US. There were good reasons for that:  The Japanese companies were offering better bikes for the money than most of their  European and American rivals.  Their quality control was more consistent:  Highland Park Cyclery sold Miyata and Panasonic when I worked there, and I don't recall having to return one for a defect.  On the other hand, I saw braze-ons break off a Peugeot and Treks that had miscut threads and wheels that didn't hold up for very long.  

Perhaps the biggest "draw" of Japanese bikes was that their drivetrains usually shifted more accurately and (a major selling point with new cyclists) more easily than those on their European counterparts.  The Panasonic in the second photo was the lowest-level ten-speed bike the company offered at the time, but its Shimano derailleur outshifted all but the very top models made in Europe at the time.  The BIanchi is a few levels up from the Panasonic, and its Shimano gears were more accurate and less fussy, I would submit, than any others--except for the ones made by Sun Tour.  

Of course, BIanchi would not be the only company to re-brand Japanese bikes for sale in the US.  Some of the most famous examples of such bikes were the "Voyageur" and "LeTour" lines Schwinn sold; Raleigh, Peugeot and other companies would also offer bikes from the Land of the Rising Sun.  Other companies, like Motobecane, would continue to make bikes in their home countries but equip them with Japanese derailleurs, freewheels and cranksets--and, later, other components--for American cyclists.

But not all of those companies offered bikes with the frame design of the BIanchi and Panasonic you see in this post.  In fact, frames with top tubes so shaped were made for only a few years, or so it seemed.  A couple of years ago, Trek revived  a modified version of it on their "Belleville" city/porteur bike:




I have never ridden a bike with such a configuration, but I can see the benefit of it, particularly for cyclists with disproportionately short legs.  I would think that people who, for other reasons, want a frame that offers more clearance than the traditional diamond design but don't want something more rigid or stable than a traditional women's, or even a mixte, frame would also like such a design.


Here's what I always wondered:  If you buy one of those bikes, do you get a watch with it?  Or a bike computer:  Imagine if Salvador Dali designed those!

01 April 2013

The New Me

Spring has (supposedly) sprung upon us.  Yesterday was Easter.  So this is supposed to be a time of renewal--or, at least, to shake off my midlife crisis.

So I decided to take on a new sport.  Actually, I made up my mind to, finally, take a go at one of the few areas of cycling I'd never before tried.

No, I'm not doing a biathlon or ice-fishing on my bike.  What I'm doing, instead, is something I always said I was "too old" to do, mainly because by the time I'd heard about it, I was already older than most of the cyclists involved in it.



I'm talking, of course, about BMX racing.  If this is how I resolve my midlife crisis, I figure it's better than being a "cougar" or buying a red sport convertible (which I couldn't afford, even if i wanted it).

So far, my decision is working out well.  I already have my first commercial endorsement:



Coming soon to a box of Kellogg's Corn Flakes near you.