Broken Threads

While perusing the web, I came across a blog that featured photos like this one:

 There hasn't been a new post on "Busted Carbon" in nearly two years.  However, its author found enough material to keep it going for three years.

Here's another choice shot:

Imagine going more than 70 KPH and, suddenly, your bike's frame splits behind the head tube.  Your handlebars and wheels fly out from under you.  

No mention was made of what happened to that bike's rider.  I hope he or she fared better than this one:

In previous posts, I mentioned that I resisted the "tri-spoke" wheel fad of about two decades ago.  Although I tried a set and liked the ride (for fast rides, anyway), I didn't buy a set after seeing one fail like this:

One of the few carbon-fiber components I've ever owned was a pair of mountain bike handlebars I--in one of my more misguided moments--installed on my Jamis Dakota.  I don't remember what brand the bars were.  But I distinctly recall how they failed when I jumped a creek in Vermont because they ended up like this:

Those strands are as sharp and jagged as shards of broken glass.  After my bars failed that way, I was so glad that I never had a carbon fiber seat post!

What Makes For A "Bike Friendly" City?

Today begins National Bike Month.  And, the 9th of May is National Bike To Work Day.

From Sheepshead Bites

Here in New York I see many more people riding to work, shop and to conduct other activities of their daily lives than I saw twenty-five, or even ten, years ago.   Bike lanes, which were nearly non-existent just a few years ago, wind along the city's shorelines and cut across various neighborhoods and districts. Bike-parking facilities are being built, as well as kiosks for a bike-share program.

However, as I've said in previous posts, these developments don't make the city more "bike friendly" than it was in in the '80's or '90's.  Sure, more people are biking, and know people who are biking.  But you're just as--or perhaps more--likely to be harassed, spat at, cussed out or even run over. 

From my experience as a cyclist, I know that facilities don't make for an atmosphere in which practical, everyday cyclists can ride safely, let alone in a tolerant atmosphere. In the early '80's, I was living in Paris.  The City of Light didn't offer much more in the way of the facilities I've described than New York or other American cities had.  And motor traffic was just as heavy, if not heavier, in part because Parisian streets are typically much narrower than the ones in the Big Apple.  Yet I used to feel safer riding on even the main arteries, such as the boulevards de Champs-Elysees and Saint Michel, than I did on even the smallest side-streets in Staten Island or New Jersey.

What I've just said about cycling in Paris was also true of other French cities in which I've cycled, and in other European 'burgs.  

I've long felt that one major reason why those cities were more bike-friendly is that, in those days, most European drivers also rode bicycles. That is still the case in some European capitals, most notably Amsterdam and Copenhagen.  Once in a great while, a particularly obnoxious motorist would honk his horn repeatedly and shout things that Mr. Berlitz never taught his students.  Such encounters were far less frequent in Europe than they were in America, at least for me.  The European exchanges also seemed less threatening, whether or not I understood the motorist's language.  Even when they drove "close enough to tear off the back of my glove," as I used to describe it, I never felt that I would be turned into a road crepe because the European drivers seemed to understand bicycles and cyclists, and knew how to act and react.

Even with the exponential increase in the number of cyclists in New York and other American cities, the vast majority of motorists don't ride bikes.   For that matter, many of the pedestrians who fill New York bike lanes--and cross into them without watching the traffic-- also never ride. Or, perhaps, they think they're not going to be hit by a cyclist, or if they are, they assume it's the cyclist's fault.

While I'm happy to see bike storage facilities and some of the bike lanes (like the one that leads to the Queensborough /59th Street Bridge), I think we'll continue to see new "ghost bikes" cropping up all over town until we have a couple of generations of motorists who are also cyclists.  And New York and other American cities will be "bike friendly" only in comparison to other cities.  

A Semi-Sweet Goodbye

I have some rather sad news to report.

No, I didn't crash or get diagnosed with some terrible disease.  Rather, it's about something I did somewhat reluctantly.

You see, I sold the Schwinn Collegiate I'd mentioned in a few previous posts.  I actually liked it quite a bit:  While it was heavy and didn't have the nimblest handling (Then again, I can say those things about myself!), it was surprisingly quick when I got it up to speed.  Plus, it did have a certain charm, some of which had to do with the color.

But it was too small for me.  Perhaps I could have gotten a longer seatpost and stem for it, but either one, I felt, would have turned it into a Frankenbike:  Bikes like the Collegiate simply aren't meant to have, and don't look right, with them.

At least the young woman who bought it from me was truly happy to find it.  She lives in Williamsburg and, she told me, another bike "just like" it was stolen from her.  Actually, she said, it was a Collegiate "from around the same time", in a different color.

As she is about 5'5" (about 165 cm), the bike is just the right size for her.  When she test rode it, she looked very comfortable and confident on it.  Plus, she was wearing a sort of "Mad Men" outfit, which somehow looked right.

She was so happy to find the bike that she didn't quibble about the price.  Even if she had, I would been satisfied with selling it to her, as I knew the bike was going "to a good home". That, at least, balances some of the sadness I felt about letting it go.

Biking Among Buds And Blooms

So far, this spring hasn't brought warmth and sunshine at the same time.  Most days, we haven't had either.  As I joked with a co-worker, it's like London without tea time, pub brews and all of the other things for which people journey to Cockaigne, a.k.a. The Big Smoke.

From Rolling In Boston

But I digress. Today we have had fairly cool temperatures with bright sunshine.  On my ride to work, I saw large numbers of trees in bloom.  The cherry blossoms are finally spreading their pink cheer, purple curls of hyacinths are rising from the ground and lilac buds are pulsing from limbs that have lived through another winter.  

Although I don't mind cold weather and overcast skies (as long as I'm not sloshing through sleet!), I can feel myself opening as I ride by spring blooms.

My New Commuter Bags: Koki Bagatelle And Dilly

If you've been following this blog for a while, you know that on most days, I had been commuting with my Carradice Nelson Longflap saddlebag.  On occasion, if I didn't have much to carry, I'd use bungee cords to lash my tote bag to my rear rack.  But, I'd say that the Carradice carried my books, papers, lunch, change of shoes and, sometimes, an extra layer of clothing (or, on hot days, clothes to change in to) on about 95 percent of my commutes during the past five years or so.

It's hard to beat the sheer, flat-out quality of Carradice's canvas bags. Plus, I love the way they look, especially on classic steel bikes (or modern steel bikes inspired by them) like my Mercians.  When I attached a shoulder strap to my green Nelson, it looked something like an old-school duffle, satchel or Danish book bag.

However, taking it off or putting it on the bike isn't quick.  I briefly used a quick-release Bagman support, but I found that the quick-release latches weren't very secure.  I understand that more recent versions of the quick-release Bagman have corrected this problem.  Still, I didn't want to take the trouble of attaching it to my saddle.

Before I started commuting with my Nelson, I used various panniers.  Because of their shape, I found that papers wrinkled and crumpled, and clothes wrinkled.  Also, I found that some panniers had a rather wide profile, which I didn't like when riding in the tight spaces of urban traffic.  The difficulty of maneuvering was further exacerbated when I used baskets that mounted on the sides of the rear rack, as they were even wider and boxier.  (I once snagged one of those baskets on somebody's bumper!)

I could have lived with the Nelson's idiosyncracies.  However, I got a really good buy on a Koki Bagatelle pannier.  i was buying something else on eBay, and the seller just happened to have the new bag, with its tags still on it.  At the price I paid for it, I figured that if it didn't work as a commuter or shopper bag for me, I--or someone else--could find some other use for it.

After two months, the Koki Bagatelle is looking more and more like a "keeper."  The Bagatelle is actually made for small-wheel bikes like Brompton and Dahon. So it is longer, but has a narrower profile, than most other panniers.  That means, among other things, that it protrudes over the rack platform, in contrast to most panniers whose tops are level with the rack platform.

What has surprised me is how stable it is.  It attaches to the rack with two alligator-type clips which are very strong.  

There is nothing to secure the bottom of the pannier to the rack.  Turns out, such a thing is not necessary:  The bag did not bounce, even when I ride on streets that bear more resemblance to the Ho Chi Minh Trail than to thoroughfares in modern first-world countries.  The mounting system also makes the bag easy to install and remove, though the latter is not a one-hand operation:  You have to pull the top of the bag, unclip one of the clips, then the other.  Still, removal is quick, which is particularly nice on a bag that's so secure when it's installed.

Once the bag is removed, you can set it down just about anyplace:  It has a "boot sole" rubber bottom that prevents wear and also keeps the bag from tipping over, even when it's unevenly loaded. 

Another reason I like this bag for my daily commutes is that I'm almost always carrying papers or manuscripts.  The bag's shape makes it very well-suited to this purpose.  I haven't tried carrying my laptop in it, but I would expect that, in its sleeve, my computer would fit very securely.

I happened to get my Bagatelle in a tan canvas material with brown leather trim. Personally, I think it looks great on Vera.  After using it for a couple of weeks, I bought a matching Dilly handlebar bag, which doubles as a shoulder bag.  

While it performs both functions quite well, I have two small complaints: 1. The length of the shoulder strap cannot be easily adjusted, and it's not easy to remove.  So, I have to bundle it up and tuck it inside the bag to keep it from getting caught in my brakes or spokes.  2.  There is no way to clip a light onto it, and the mounting bracket keeps me from using the light I had on my handlebar.  Plus, it's a bit small to use as a tote bag: It's more like a small purse or shoulder pouch.

Koki provides nylon rain covers with all of their bags.  I've ridden my bags in the rain and, while they provide a fair amount of water-resistance, they aren't as watertight as Carradice or, certainly, Ortleib bags.  But the rain covers will keep your gear dry and keep the canvas clean.

All in all, commuting with my Koki Bagatelle pannier and (sometimes) Dilly handlebar bag has been working out very well, and the quality of the bags seems very good.  I have been satisfied enough to take advantage of Koki's clearance sale on last year's models and buy another Bagatelle in another color, and a ""Budgie" handlebar/tote bag (which is a bit larger than the Dilly, but fits on the same mount as the Dilly).

For those of you who like ratings, on a scale from 1 to 10, I give the Bagatelle a 9.5 and the Dilly an 8.5.  My Carradice will return to the role to which it's best suited:  day and weekend trips.

A Beginning: A Fixed Gear And The Wind

Pedal into the wind and let it blow you home.  Or, let the wind take you where you want to go and...

I know that I usually prefer the first option--especially when I'm riding my fixed gear.  Especially if I'm doing something really goofy like a metric century on a fixed gear.

On a clear day, with the wind at my back, I don't feel as if I'm riding a bicycle anymore: Rather, my bike and legs become conduits for the wind that takes me back, the wind that, according to the Navajos, begins life.

And when my ride on a current of wind begins at the ocean, it seems as if the world--or, at least, a season--has begun.

Assembling, In Words And Pictures

What are the most important pieces of writing you have ever read?  

I know that's a biiiig question.  Interpret "important" in any way you like.  And the pieces of writing can be just that--whether they're works of Literature (with a capital L) or a warning label.

For me, those pieces of writing would include three of Shakespeare's plays:  The Tempest, Othello and Macbeth.  They would also include T.S. Eliot's The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock, Victor Hugo's Les Miserables and Sappho's Odes.  And, I must not forget NSC-68, Christine Jorgensen's autobiography (which I read as a teenager in the local public library) and The City of Ladies.

Oh, here's another:  Everybody's Bike Book by the late, great Tom Cuthbertson.  Mechanics tend to think spatially and visually rather than verbally, so anyone who can turn bike mechanics--or any kind of mechanics--into prose that's understandable, much less enjoyable to read, is a truly special kind of writer.

Here is something I am sure Tom, rest his soul, would appreciate:

From Visual.ly

What's On A Woman's Mind?

While looking through one of my discs, I came upon this photo:

I won't claim it as a contemporary counterpart to Le Penseur.  But it got me to thinking nonetheless.

 I recall taking it at a WE Bike meeting in June at Bike Works NYC.  The shop offers a good selection of vintage and vintage-inspired bikes and accessories, as well as high-quality tools and parts.  It's in a space about the size of a Texas closet: Only in New York could such a claustrophobic space house a bike shop!

Anyway, I didn't take any notes about the photo.  So, perhaps, you could supply some.  Perhaps you could come up with a caption or one of those thought-bubbles you see in a comic strip.

What's on this woman's mind in a bike shop?

Krof

For the past few days, I've had a relapse of the respiratory illness I had during the winter.  So, I was off the bikes and generally out of commission.

I finally got out today, to go to the store.  Along the way, I saw a bike that normally wouldn't capture my attention:  one of the many department-store "mountain" bikes you see parked on the street.  However, something struck me as odd about this one:

Did you notice what was off?  Here's a shot that might give you a clue:

Did you notice that the brakes are mounted to the rear of the fork?  That was the first thing that tipped me off to something else that's wasn't quite right:  Look at the angle of the fork legs.

Yes, the fork is mounted backward.  Was it deliberately installed that way by some kid who wanted to make his bike "different"?  I don't know whether that's more or less disturbing than the other probable explanation:  Whoever assembled the bike simply didn't know any better.  

Look at how far the front wheel is from the rest of the bike:

It's not merely an aesthetic concern, however. I simply cannot imagine how the bike rides with the fork in such a position.  I would expect the shopping carts in the local supermarket to have quicker, more responsive and more accurate steering than the bike with a fork mounted that way.  In fact, with such handling, I'd be afraid to ride the bike, especially in traffic.

I wonder whether the bike's rider notices anything odd or unusual about the ride.  Perhaps he or she has never ridden anything else and so has no basis for comparison.  Perhaps  this person thinks that bikes normally handle like that one.

Now that's a scary thought--at least to me.

Bicycles: Food For Thought

Some years ago, Santa left a package of this in my Christmas stocking:

It was actually very good pasta.  If I recall correctly, it was made in Italy.  At any rate, it came in the trecolori of verte, blanco e rosso.  As much of a Francophile as I am, I'm not so sure that I would have wanted pasta en bleu.

I have seen cookies and other foods--usually sweets--shaped like bicycles.  I can easily imagine cutting vegetables and fruits and forming the pieces into two-wheeled crudites.  However, I have a harder time seeing meat, fish or fowl as velocipedic viandes.

All of this begs a question:  Has anyone ever eaten an actual bicycle?

One Michel Lotito--a Grenoble native who performed under the name "Monsieur Mangetout"-- would have answered, "Moi!"

The best part is that he ate not one, but eighteen, bicycles during his lifetime.  Apparently, it was his favorite non-food delicacy:  He also consumed fifteen shopping carts, seven televisions, six chandeliers and one Cessna 150 aircraft, among other objects you won't find on the menus of restaurants in his hometown. (I know: I've been there!)

Before partaking of his meals, he cut the objects into pieces and, when necessary, ground up the parts.  I don't know whether or not he said grace, but he did gulp some mineral oil before downing his repasts, and drank water throughout each "course".  If you ask me, his exploits give new meaning to the term "slider".

He claimed never to have suffered any ill effects from his galvanized gourmandizing, even though he consumed some substances that are considered poisonous.  He also said he never had trouble passing any of the estimated nine tons of metal he ingested between 1959 and 1997.  No Montezuma's  Revenge for him.  However, he also said that bananas and hard-boiled eggs made him sick.

On 25 June 2007, ten days after he turned 57, he died "of natural causes".

All of this, of course, begs another question:  Did he ever eat a carbon fiber bike?  If so, did its fiber content aid his digestion?