With Or Without Cage

Unless you’re a purist who keeps your fixed gear bike NJS-compliant or someone who doesn’t ride much beyond your neighborhood, you use some sort of hydration system. 

Some of you use “Camel Back” type backpacks that hold bladders.  I did when I was doing a lot of mountain biking, although I’ve never really liked carrying anything on my back when I ride. But now I, like most of you, use a bottle-and-cage system.  For all of the diversity of cage materials and designs, most bottles marketed for use on bicycles fit on most cages.  That means you can buy a cage from someone who makes cages, not bottles (like King, who made the stainless steel cages I use) and not have to worry about whether your bottle will fit into it.

Most bikes sold today have threaded  bits on the downtube (and, sometimes, the seat tube) for mounting cages.  But, back in the ‘70’s Bike Boom--around the time I became a dedicated cyclist—most bicycles didn’t have them.  In fact, about the only bikes that came with such provisions were made by constructeurs and other custom builders.  Even top professional-level bikes like the Raleigh Professional and Schwinn Paramount didn’t have bottle mounts.

That meant you needed a pair of clamps—which, in those days, were usually supplied with the cage.  Some would argue that a true “vintage” restoration should include a cage with such clamps—unless, of course, the frame is from a constructeur or other custom builder.  If you look at racing photos from before the early ‘80’s or so, even the top professional riders—including Eddy Mercx on his sunset-orange De Rosa—you can see the clamps.

It was during that time that a few enterprising companies—some of them in the US—came up with some interesting ways of mounting bottles on bikes.

One-clamp cage from Specialites TA, ca. 1975.

Specialites TA of France, which made the cages most racers and high-mileage riders used in those days, made a single-clamp cage.  I mounted one on my Romic and never thought about it:  Like TA’s other cages, it held the bottle securely while allowing easy removal and was all but indestructible.

A Tennessee-based company called Hi-E, which made ultra-lightweight (for the time, anyway) hubs, pedals and other components, came up with their own version of TA’s cage.  Hi-E made their cage from aluminum alloy and it was fixed to the frame with a stainless steel hose clamp.  American Classic would later make a similar cage in Ohio, along with its own lightweight components.

Others found ways of doing away with the cage altogether.  Rhode Gear came up with what was probably the most popular of them.  Their bottle had an extrusion with “tracks” on each side that fit into grooves on the plastic clamp mounted onto the bike.  It was actually quite good—I had one on myPeugeot “fixie”—and became very popular with club cyclists.  Other companies imitated it.

Rhode Gear bottle, ca. 1978

Its advantages were its simplicity and (if you’re a weight weenie) the elimination of 100 grams or so of steel cage and clamps.  Also, it could be mounted on the seat tube of a bike with short chainstays and little clearance between the tire and seat tube.  In fact, I put another Rhode Gear bottle on my Trek racing bike, which had water bottle mounts on the down tube but not the seat tube.

Plus, after a while, they were made in a bunch of colors as well as basic white and black.  The white ones could be had with the logos of a few large bike manufacturers (I had one with a Peugeot emblem) or, for a time, with club logos or other custom designs.

The disadvantage, as you may have figured, is that it was a proprietary design:  You could only use the bottle designed for the system.  At least the bottle was easy to use and sturdy:  I never heard of one cracking or springing a leak, though a few wore out at the tracks, albeit after a lot of hard usage.

Cannondale made a bottles that attached to its “mated” holders with Velcro.  I never tried such a bottle, but a few riders I knew liked them.  The best thing about them, it seemed, was that the bottle could be put into the holder from any angle.  As one fellow club rider said, “When I’m tired, my aim isn’t as good.”  While riding, he could put the Velcro-coated bottle back in its holder without looking at it.

Cannondale bottle and "cage" with Velcro

One other cageless bottle I used had indentations on its sides designed so that the bottle would “snap” in between the seat stays of most bikes. Most bikes at that time had parallel stays of more or less the same diameter placed more or less the same distance apart.  Of course, such a bottle wouldn’t work on many of today’s bikes, including those with monostays.  Also, as you might expect, the bottle was small:  less than half the size of a standard water bottle.  It did come in handy, though, especially on a training ride on a hot day.  

I don’t know what happened to that bottle.  I think I stopped somewhere, drank from it and absentmindedly left it.  When I realized I no longer had it, I couldn’t find another:  Apparently, they were made only for a year or two. 

As water bottle cage fixtures became standard features on mass-produced bikes, the demand for cageless bottles and single-clamp cages fell off.  By the late 1980s, it seemed that no one was making them anymore. 

RDR Bologna bottle

  

 However, a few years ago, RDR Bologna made a water bottle with a slot in the rear that’s designed to slide directly onto the water-bottle braze on.  I haven’t used one, and don’t know anyone who has.  But, from what I can see, it has all of the advantages and disadvantages of the Rhode Gear bottles I used back in the day.

The Wind I Buck, The Wind At My Back -- And Snow

The other night, rain was forecast for most of the area, along with a precipitous (pun intended) temperature drop.  There was even the possiblility of snow flurries for areas north and west.  




Now, the last time I looked, Rockaway Beach was neither north nor west of Central Park (where NYC area forecasts are usually made) or Astoria.  But it looks like the place the Ramones made famous got a bit of the white stuff:

I didn't see any of it on the streets or paths I rode.  But the fact that the snow is there is testament to how cold the weather's been:  The high temperatures haven't passed 5C (40F) in Manhattan or Astoria.  So it's conceivable that they've remained below freezing in the Rockaways.

While the weather's been a bit colder than normal for this time of year, the reason why everyone is talking about it is the wind, which seems to have blown nonstop since the snow/rain fell.  I was glad to be on Arielle rather than Tosca because Arielle has gears.  But it was great to ride her again; of all of my bikes, she fits (and therefore feels) best.

She didn't seem to mind the cold--or wind.  Oddly enough, my trip back from Point Lookout--into the wind--was faster than my ride out there, when the same wind blew at my back.  I guess I was just more motivated to ride in the wind, and Arielle seems not to mind it any more than she minds the cold.  At least the cold air was clear and bright. 

A Wheel Disappears

If you saw my post from the other day, you may have noticed something different about my LeTour.

Last week, I left it parked outside overnight, next to the candy store/newsstand on the corner.  It’s a pretty visible corner, and people walk by it even in the wee-est hours of the morning.

But, apparently, someone keeps very different hours from theirs, or mine. 

Last Friday morning, I went to the candy store and discovered that the LeTour had been turned into a unicycle.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised:  the front wheel wasn’t locked.  Also, it has a black hub with a nutted (non-quick release), black spokes and  a black deep-V rim on which the sidewalls aren’t machined for brakes.  So, perhaps, someone wanted it for a “stealth” bike—or to sell to someone who’ll use it for that purpose.

Fortunately, I wasn’t going to use the bike when I discovered the theft.  I took a trip down to Recycle A Bicycle and asked them for the cheapest 700C front wheel they had.  It’s actually decent: all name-brand components, if the lowest-level model of each.  Heck, it even had a Velox rim tape in good condition.

So far, it’s working fine.  For twenty bucks, I got a wheel that someone trued and tensioned with a hub that seemed to have been regreased.  Good folks, they are, at Recycle A Bicycle.

Holey, Holey, Holey

In a way, it almost seems oxymoronic to call drilling things out in order to save weight "overkill".  Then again, can we call it "underkill"?

We've all seen examples of bikes, usually from the 1970's or early '80's, with more even more holes drilled into the parts than you'll find pierced on all of the bodies of Bushwick hipsters (or wannabes).  And it almost seems pointless to drill out some components--like the Huret Jubilee derailleur--that are already feather-light.

Still, I admit that the drillings make for some interesting effects, as on the cage of this Simplex Super LJ rear derailleur:

To my eyes, the holes are almost like gemstones and make the derailleur more "blingy".

It's in pristine condition, according to its eBay listing--and can be yours for $850.

The Day Begins At Hell Gate

This morning I rode through the Gates of Hell.

At least, some people thought they were:  They were driving to do things they had to do. On the other hand, I was cycling to something I had to do.  I reckon, though, that the thing I had to do was less onerous than the things some of those drivers were going to spend their day doing.

It's probably a good thing they couldn't, or didn't, see what was below and beside them, in Hell Gate.

I could not see the water, either.  I could not see the cables of the RFK Bridge, except for the ones nearest to me.  All I could see were the lights of cars and trucks. They were only reflections of the moment, repeated again and again.

All I could do was to move through them, through time, across the bridge over Hell Gate.

A Two-Wheeled Salute To Veterans

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I've written a number of posts on how bicycles have been used in the military.

Mind you, I'm not a war buff.  But I do find military history--as history--to be very interesting on many levels.  And, even though I hope that the human race will one day decide that war is obsolete, I think this nation (and all others) should give veterans the respect they deserve and the care they need.

Many of those veterans have used bicycles on and off-duty. So, today I thought I'd share a couple of photos the SF Gate published as part of their tribute to veterans three years ago.

Here, Pfc Horace Boykin rides a "captured" bicycle as he and his Marine comerades (l-to-r) Corporal Willis T. Anthony, Pfc Emmit Shackelford and Pfc Eugene Purdy take time out from supplying the front line in Saipan in 1944.

A year later, we see Seaman Paul Gray riding a Japanese bicycle in Tokyo.  A victory lap, perhaps?


I wonder whether any of those guys are still around.  

Road Signs For Cyclists

By now, we've all seen the international road signs. Yes, we even have some here in the US.  Hey, one day we might even have the metric system.

I saw those signs for the first time during my first bike tour in Europe.  I thought they were great:  Most of them didn't need explanation, which is nice when you don't know the local language.

They've got me to thinking about some signs for cyclists.  If you've travelled in a hilly area, you've probably seen the sign for falling rock zones.  So...how about one for a "falling rain zone"?

From MassBike

What A Day (Date)!

Today's post won't be about cycling.

That's because I was struck by how many historical events happened on this date, and I just had to talk about them.

You probably know about two of them.  If you think one of them was great, you think the other was terrible.

I am referring, of course, to the fall of the Berlin Wall (Was it really 25 years ago?) and Kristallnacht.

For all that I denounce the ways in which my native country abuses its power in the world, I still that the US and its allies can be made to offer a better life for their citizens in ways that totalitarian and collectivist states can't.  That is why I, like most people who have no connection to the Soviet system, think that puncturing that partition in the old German capital allowed a light to stream in.  Whether that light is used to make our lives brighter or turned into a kleig that breaks us down is still, I believe, a question that has not been decided, though it we are being nudged toward the answer most of us wouldn't want.

Mikhail Gorbachev, the Soviet premier at the time, is widely hailed as a hero in the West even if his policy of "glasnost" and "peristroika" inadvertently led to the collapse of the empire he headed.  Not surprisingly, leaders of the old Soviet heirarchy as well as anti-nationalists of the states formerly included in the Soviet Union despise him as much of the world reviles Hitler.

Speaking of the latter:  One of the most perversely brilliant things the Fuhrer (or, more precisely, his propoganda minister, Joseph Goebbels) did was to foster the perception that the burning of homes and looting of buinesses belonging to Jews in Germany, Austria and the annexed areas of adjacent countries--and the killing of some of those Jews--was a spontaneous popular uprising in response to a young Polish Jew's assassination of a German embassy official stationed in Paris.  

It is often argued that this deception is what rallied young Germans to "defend" their country. What it did, of course, was plunge the world into darkness. Hmm...Where else have we seen anything like that?

As for being plunged in darkness:  On this same date in 1965, nine northeastern US states and parts of Canada experienced the largest blackout when a switch in a power station in Niagara Falls failed.  I remember that one well:  I was seven years old and, being accustomed to seeing my Brooklyn neighborhood illuminated by tall streetlamps and light from neighbors' windows, simply could not comprehend what had just happened.  Nor, for that matter, could most of the adults in my neighborhood.  

What I recall most clearly, though, is my father not coming home from work that night.  I think it was the first time I experienced that.  He, like many others, took the subway to and from his job in Manhattan.  Thankfully, he hadn't yet boarded a train before the lights went out and was thus spared being marooned in a pitch-black tunnel as so many other commuters were that evening!

What I wouldn't know, until much later, was that on that same day in 1965, a former seminarian named Roger LaPorte immolated himself in front of the United Nations in protest of the Vietnam War.

Believe it or not, the events I've mentioned aren't the only  ones of note to have happened on this date:   Napoleon Bonaparte declared himself the dictator of France.  Teddy Roosevelt left the White House for what would be the first official visit outside the US by an American President.  The Kaiser abidicated and fled to the Netherlands as Germany declared itself a republic.  And the great Russian writer Ivan Turgenev was born.  As if he needed more material to work with!

To The Rescue (Or, At Least, A Happy Ending)

Plot spoiler:  Today’s ride turned into a rescue mission.

The tide crept away,  leaving an egret in distress

stuck in a sea of moss while other birds are left to wander lonely in the sands.

Would help arrive in time?

Or would they be submerged in the incoming tide?

Fortunately, our heroine arrived in the nick of time 

on her winged chariot (well, a fast bike, anyway!)

All are saved.  And our heroine is enjoying a feast befitting a queen.  Everyone lives happily ever after—until the next fairy tale, anyway!

(Now you know that a fairy tale is even better with a cyclist in it, especially when the heroine rides in on a shining Mercian.)

The Real Dance In DUMBO

On my way home tonight, I saw something that stopped my tires dead in the cracks of the DUMBO cobblestones.

All right, I stopped the bike--for what I saw while pedaling and getting vibrated on that Brooklyn street.


 Tonight the moon was so full and bright, even with scrims of clouds drifting across it, that I could see my reflection in my Velo Orange hammered fenders.  All right, that's a bit of an exaggeration.  But the moon was definitely not shy tonight:

It seemed to be guiding the other lights of the sky and street, moving close and pulling away, allowing only glimpses of its face as it continued its dance with the other orbs of light.

I apologize for the quality (or lack thereof) of these photos:  I took them with my cell phone!