More Of A '70's Craze

Having come of age in the '70's, I can tell you that a lot of things about that time were goofy.  At least, they seem that way now.  I'm talking about the hair styles, clothing, EST and, of course, disco.

Then there was drillium.  Every component manufacturer voided their warranties if owners cut or drilled cranks, chainrings, derailleurs, brakes and other components.  In fact, Campagnolo and a few other manufacturers offered components that were already drilled or slotted.  Ironically, Campagnolo's slotted brake levers actually weighed more than their smooth ones!  According to Campagnolo, the levers were made thicker so they could withstand the slotting.

Now, I've never seen a Specialites TA three-pin crankset in drillium--until just a little while ago, when I was looking at the e-bay listings. (I have an excuse:  I was selling a couple of items.)  

I actually like it.  In some weird way, it looks Art Deco-ish.  I was tempted to buy it. But, I can't really justify buying anything I don't plan to use soon, and I'm not doing any showroom-worthy vintage restorations.  Plus, I don't know whether Specialites TA still makes replacement chainrings.  As far as I know, no other chainrings are compatible with this crank.

Still, it is nice: probably the best three-pin crankset ever made. The drillium accentuates its lines, and makes a pretty crankset even prettier, in my opinion.

Our Winter Is Their Sunrise

As I've mentioned in my previous two posts, we in New York are having the coldest weather we've had in two years.  Everybody's talking about it:  I think we were spoiled by such a mild season last year.

Still, we're getting off pretty easy compared to people in other parts of the world.  Either of the past two days would have been utterly balmy in, say, Duluth, Minnesota.  On an average January day, the high temperature there is 18F(-8C)--about what it was yesterday.  Today it was about five degrees (F) warmer.  And our night temperatures have been nowhere near as cold as the  -1F (-18C) folks in Duluth experience on a typical January night.

Aside from the mild winter we had last year, the cold is affecting people in the Big Apple for another reason:  wind.  The wind has, at times, gusted to nearly 30MPH (50KPH), and has steadily blown at 10-12MPH (16-21KPH).  That, of course, gives the cold a "bite" it wouldn't otherwise have.

However, there is one area in which, barring dramatic climate changes, New York winters will never compare with those in Duluth:  snow.  We should be thankful for small things:  The cold and wind here have been dry, and the skies almost preternaturally clear.  (Somehow, skies seem--to me, anyway-- clearer when it's cold.)  The city by Lake Superior, in contrast, is almost always covered with snow at this time of year, mainly because when snow falls, it tends to stay for longer than it does here in the New York islands.

So, I have to give major "props" to any year-round bike commuter in Duluth--like Doug, the author of MnBicycleCommuter.  When the roads are covered with snow, he rides a Surly Pugsley with the widest tires he can fit. 

Now, if I had to ride in the kind of cold Doug regularly experiences, I wouldn't mind a view like that.  I've pedalled into the sunrise:  It put me in a good mood for work.

Doug definitely deserves such views. So does anyone else who rides in those conditions!

Les Alpes Maritimes Sur Flushing Bay

Last night the temperature dropped below 10F for the first time in two years.  When I left my place, it was 12F, and the wind-chill was below zero.

So I did took the most sensible route for today's commute:  the one that takes me along the water.

For a moment, I actually envisioned myself among the snow-capped peaks of the Alps.  I rode up mountains (Avoriaz, Galibier and Colle d'Agnello/Col d'Agnell) whose roads were banked by snow--and whose peaks were covered them--when the weather was warm enough to ride comfortably in shorts and a cycling jersey. 

Today's weather, of course, was nothing like that.  However, I didn't have to do any climbing.  Along the Cote d'Azur and in Liguria, the mountains tumble all the way to the sea.  People who've spent their entire lives in this part of the world probably cannot imagine such a coastline.

This is probably the closest they'll come to seeing anything like it: