What's New? Old Brakes

To get your bicycle to do what you want to do, have to listen to it--especially when it's telling you it likes, or doesn't like, something.

A corollary to that pearl of wisdom is this;  Just because something fits on a bike, that doesn't mean it will work well --for the bike or you.

So it was with linear=pull (a.k.a. "V")brakes on Vera.  I never could get them adjusted quite right.  They had lots of stopping power--as long as I pulled my brake levers all the way.  In other words, I experienced the "all or nothing " response some people experience with V brakes.  I couldn't decelerate with them; I could make only "on the dime" stops.

Also, I simply could not keep them centered, especially on the front.  Instead of standing vertically from the posts on which they were mounted, the brake arms stuck out at one- and eleven=o'clock angles.  That was more than an aesthetic concern:  It made the brakes difficult to adjust.

Finally, even when I unhooked the cable, it was difficult to remove the front wheel because the brakes and pads fit so closely.  The likely reason for that, and possibly the other problems I mentioned, is, I discovered, that V-brakes are designed to be used on frames and forks with the brake bosses spaced further apart than they are on Vera.  In fact, most older touring and cyclo-cross bikes, and road (or roadish) bikes made for cantilevers, have brake bosses that are more narrowly spaced than they are on mountain or post-1996 hybrid bikes.

I installed the V-brakes (Shimano Deore LXs) to replace the low-profile cantilevers that came with the bike.  Those brakes just seemed weak, at least compared to cantilevers I had back in the day.

So, guess what I did?  I found a cantilever brake like the ones we used back in the day:

I found these vintage 1985 Shimano Deore XT-MC70 brakes on eBay for a reasonable price.  While they protrude from the frame more than the other brakes, they have more power than the low-profile cantis--and better modulation than V-brakes.  I also found them surprisingly attractive on the bike.  

Of course, I changed the pads:  Even if they look OK, twenty-year-old pads have dried out at least somewhat.  Plus, Kool-Stop (Mathauser) salmon-colored pads are kinder to lightweight alloy rims than the old Shimanos.

(The current Tektro 720s seem to be patterned, at least to some degree, on these brakes).

One other benefit--at least from my point of view--of the cantilevers is that they allow me to use inverse (bar-end) brake levers like the ones I have on Helene.

I'll try to give a follow-up report on how these brakes work with Vera.  So far, everything seems good.

Colors At The End Of The Day

On my way home yesterday, I rode the promenade at the World's Fair Marina.  It runs just to the northeast of LaGuardia Airport.

While it isn't the Big Sur, it does have its own local color, especially at the end of the day:

A long, long time ago, one of my science teachers told us that we don't actually see anything; instead, our eyes collect the light reflected from it and form an image that is projected onto our retinae.  I hadn't thought about that in a while, until I saw this photo, which captures, not the sun, but a reflection of it on the water.  

Amazing, isn't it, that even the murky waters of Flushing Bay can provide such a palette of hues?

Isn't it also amazing that cell phones these days can record stuff like this?

Motorin'

A month ago, I ranted and raved about electric bikes.


As "Ailish" and other commenters pointed out, bikes with motors, or other non-human assistance, are nothing new.  In fact, there have been motors of one kind or another on bicycles for almost as long as there have been velocipedes.  


So, as ironic as it may seem, it's really not surprising that some bicycles have "motor" or some similar term in their names even though the bike's only engine is human.  Perhaps the most famous example of this is the French line of Motobecane bicycles.  "Becane" is a colloquialism for "bicycle" in France, so, in essence, "Motobecane" means "motorized bike."


(Note:  Bicycles currently sold in the US with the Motobecane name have absolutely no connection to the company in France, which no longer makes bicycles.  The company that markets the current Motobecanes simply purchased the right to use the name in the 'States.')


Other bike makers have used automotive motifs, particularly on models intended for pre-teen boys.  I think now of the "Chopper" and "Krate"-style bicycles, which had stick shifters meant to evoke the ones found in race cars, as well as racing stripes, checkered flags and such.

Schwinn actually made a model that was called "Motobike." As a kid, I remember seeing one in the basement of my great-aunt's house; if I remember correctly, my great-uncle or their son (my mother's cousin)--or, perhaps, both--rode it when they were boys.


I have no idea of where that bike is now.  But I found a photo of one in an eBay listing.  According to the seller, the bike was made in 1938.  


Another eBay listing revealed the perfect accessory for that bike:

Believe it or not, it was made in the USA--in Illinois, to be exact.

Isn't it interesting that the box reads "Bicycle Ignition"?