Shifting Gear

If you've been following this blog for the past couple of weeks or so, you may have noticed some ever-so-subtle changes to my bikes.  I have documented how Arielle traded a triple crankset for a Sugino Alpina double. Well, I've also installed an Alpina double, albeit with different chainrings, on Helene.


And you may also see that I have Carradice Barley bags on all three of my Mercians. (Tosca, as well as Arielle and Helene.)  I think I may just leave them on the bikes, as it will make it easier to carry my camera, notebook and an extra layer of clothing, if I need it.  I can also pick up some goodie or another in a bakery or flea market en route!  So, the Bike Burritos I had been using are inside the pockets of the Barleys.  I liked the way the Burritos looked on the bikes, but they also serve nicely to keep my tools and tubes organized and separate from whatever else I put in my bags.


Finally, there is this change I made on Helene:

I purchased a pair of shifter pods from Velo Orange. They function in the same way as the ones Paul Components makes.  However, VO's cost a good bit less and fit a wider variety of handlebars.  The VO Porteur bars on this bike are of the same diameter as road bike bars. (Most flat and upright bars are the same diameter as mountain bike bars, which are of a smaller diameter.)  


The problem with Paul's--and many other thumb shifter mounts--is that they will fit one type of bar of the other.  But the ones made for road-bike bars will fit only on the "sleeve" of the bar, which is the section nearest the stem clamp.  That "sleeve" is a wider diameter than the "body" of the handlebar. 


Of course, one probably could put a shim or tape underneath  a Paul clamp.  But who wants to do that after spending 75 dollars for the pod?


The VO pod has a hinged clamp instead of the solid clamp found on the Paul pods.  That, of course, allows for greater adjustability.  Plus, VO supplies the pods with some nicely-machined aluminum shims.  And, for those of you who care, the VO pods are silver, while Paul's are black. 


The pods are made to be used with Dia Compe Silver downtube shifters, which is what I had been using before I bought the pods.  I happen to like the lever very much, so I was happy to keep it.  I was able to mount the shifters so that I could reach them as I was holding the straight part of the bar, which is where the brake levers are located.  As I have them mounted, I can actuate the brakes with two fingers and the shifter with one.


As much as I like the position,  I'm still getting used to the shifting.  A basic rule of thumb is:  The longer your cable, the slower, less precise and less crisp your shifting.  That is one reason why you just about need either a ratchet mechanism (like those on the Silver levers, or the old Sun Tours), a retro-friction mechanism (as used on the Simplex "teardrop" levers) or an indexed mechanism (as found on Ergo and STI levers) if you're using a handlebar-mounted shifter. 


I think that I should be accustomed to this setup fairly soon.  After all, I once had a bike with Sun Tour shifters that mounted on top of the bars.  After a while, I found the shifting just as predictable, if not as quick, as on my bike with downtube shifters.


And, oh, yeah, the bright pink Cinelli tape. Turns out, the gray tape I had on the bars wasn't long enough once I installed the new shifters.  

Hasidim and Hipster Fixies

Today I took one of those "no destination" rides.  Helene and I just sort of wandered from one place to another, doing about 30 or 35 miles in total without getting more than a few miles from my apartment.  Such is an enjoyable way--for me, anyway--to spend a warm, humid afternoon after waking up late.  


Along the way, I stopped in an Old Navy store. (They didn't stop me from bringing my bike in.)  I was looking for at least one nautical-stripe T-shirt.  For the longest time, I wore one that I bought in France. You've probably seen them:  the kind worn by Breton fishermen and Marseille dock workers and, for a long time, by sailors in the French Navy.  They are white, with horizontal navy stripes.  For a long time, it was the only white article of clothing I owned.  


I also used to have a wool sweater that was the inverse of the T-shirt:  navy with cream stripes.  It was one of those sweaters with buttons on the left shoulder.  I actually wore it on many a cold-weather ride, as the wool was of a very nice grade and tightly woven, and the sweater was of just the right weight and thickness for a variety of conditions.


There are imitations of them available in this country.  For all I know, they're not even being made in France anymore.  In any event, as I expected, Old Navy didn't have the originals.  But they didn't have any imitations, either.  On the other hand, I found interesting tank top with a tied back in a kind of "fade" from blue to green to purple.  And the green and purple just happen to be the shades, more or less, of Helene as well as Arielle and Tosca, my other Mercians.  So of course I couldn't pass it up.  One of these days, I'll post a picture in which I wear it--and, of course, I'm riding one of my Mercians.


I also rode to someplace I haven't been in quite a while.  It's one of the neighborhoods in which I spent my childhood:  Borough Park, in Brooklyn.  This is the church in which I was an altar server:

And, diagonally across the street is the school I attended. Here is a section of it:

They are the Holy Spirit parish and school.  Between them, I saw this:

Even if I hadn't seen that, I would have been surprised that the school, and even the church, were still open.  Even though the temperature rose to just above 90F, all of the females I saw on the streets were wearing thick hosiery (some with seams running down the rear) and long skirts, while all of the males were wearing even longer coats.  If they noticed me, I can only imagine what they might have been thinking.  For one thing, I was alone and riding a better bicycle than most of them even know exists. Plus, I was the only one riding a bike who was more than about ten years old.   And I was wearing a short (by their standards, anyway) denim skirt and a tank top.


I know, from an earlier experience, that the Hasidim don't like to be photographed. Of course, I respect that.  But at the same time, I wasn't about to ask any of them to take a photo of me with my bike!


You've seen Hasidim if you've been Williamsburg, another Brooklyn neighborhood. (In fact, shuttle buses run between the two neighborhoods.)  What's ironic is that they're in the hipster-fixie capitol of the universe. That makes for some very interesting visual contrasts.  One is between the black of the males' coats and hats and the females' skirts, and the day-glo or neon colors of the bikes rolling down the Kent Avenue bike lane or parked in front of the book and music stores, "retro" boutiques and self-consciously funky coffee shops and restaurants of Bedford Avenue.  The other contrast, of course, is between the presence of hipsters and their fixed-gear bikes in Williamsburg and the absence of same in Borough Park.


If I could have found a way to photograph what I've just described while respecting the wishes of the Hasidim, I would have done so.  All I can do is hope that I've described it enough for you to visualize, at least somewhat.

A Looker On Lookout At The Beach

In another two months or so, a day like today will be considered perfect, or nearly so.  As it was, it was very nice:  about ten degrees F warmer than normal for this time of year, and almost preternaturally bright and sunny.  I used a lot of sunscreen today!


And there was a slight breeze.  It was just enough to billow the tank top I was wearing.  I swear, that's what the "bulge" in my midsection. 

All right, I admit:  I'm not skinny.  At least not now.  But I can also assure you that I'm not pregnant and have been riding.

Arielle felt like a veritable rocket underneath me today.  And I had the wind at my back from about twenty miles to about five miles from home.   So she certainly deserves to have a couple of "beach babe" photos here.