What if Salvador Dali were hired to design a bike frame--and he only did the top tube?
The result might look something like this:
I had never before seen such a frame sporting Bianchi logos. But now that I think of it, I'm not surprised. The Bianchi in the photo was made in Japan for Bianchi during the 1980's. Back then, the most famous Italian bicycle manufacturer was rebranding bikes built by Panasonic, Bridgestone and, it was rumoried, Miyata, for the US market.
When you look at this Panasonic closely, you realize why Bianchi made such a move. During the 1970's and early 1980's, Japanese makers like the ones I've mentioned, and Fuji and Nishiki, took over much of the entry- and mid-level market for road and touring bikes in the US. There were good reasons for that: The Japanese companies were offering better bikes for the money than most of their European and American rivals. Their quality control was more consistent: Highland Park Cyclery sold Miyata and Panasonic when I worked there, and I don't recall having to return one for a defect. On the other hand, I saw braze-ons break off a Peugeot and Treks that had miscut threads and wheels that didn't hold up for very long.
Perhaps the biggest "draw" of Japanese bikes was that their drivetrains usually shifted more accurately and (a major selling point with new cyclists) more easily than those on their European counterparts. The Panasonic in the second photo was the lowest-level ten-speed bike the company offered at the time, but its Shimano derailleur outshifted all but the very top models made in Europe at the time. The BIanchi is a few levels up from the Panasonic, and its Shimano gears were more accurate and less fussy, I would submit, than any others--except for the ones made by Sun Tour.
Of course, BIanchi would not be the only company to re-brand Japanese bikes for sale in the US. Some of the most famous examples of such bikes were the "Voyageur" and "LeTour" lines Schwinn sold; Raleigh, Peugeot and other companies would also offer bikes from the Land of the Rising Sun. Other companies, like Motobecane, would continue to make bikes in their home countries but equip them with Japanese derailleurs, freewheels and cranksets--and, later, other components--for American cyclists.
But not all of those companies offered bikes with the frame design of the BIanchi and Panasonic you see in this post. In fact, frames with top tubes so shaped were made for only a few years, or so it seemed. A couple of years ago, Trek revived a modified version of it on their "Belleville" city/porteur bike:
I have never ridden a bike with such a configuration, but I can see the benefit of it, particularly for cyclists with disproportionately short legs. I would think that people who, for other reasons, want a frame that offers more clearance than the traditional diamond design but don't want something more rigid or stable than a traditional women's, or even a mixte, frame would also like such a design.
Here's what I always wondered: If you buy one of those bikes, do you get a watch with it? Or a bike computer: Imagine if Salvador Dali designed those!
Spring has (supposedly) sprung upon us. Yesterday was Easter. So this is supposed to be a time of renewal--or, at least, to shake off my midlife crisis.
So I decided to take on a new sport. Actually, I made up my mind to, finally, take a go at one of the few areas of cycling I'd never before tried.
No, I'm not doing a biathlon or ice-fishing on my bike. What I'm doing, instead, is something I always said I was "too old" to do, mainly because by the time I'd heard about it, I was already older than most of the cyclists involved in it.
I'm talking, of course, about BMX racing. If this is how I resolve my midlife crisis, I figure it's better than being a "cougar" or buying a red sport convertible (which I couldn't afford, even if i wanted it).
So far, my decision is working out well. I already have my first commercial endorsement:
Coming soon to a box of Kellogg's Corn Flakes near you.
"Mind if I ride your wheel?"
"No, not at all!"
He didn't realize it's the best--or, at least my favorite--question anyone has asked me in a while. It's as good as "How old are you? Forty?"
We'd been playing "tag" along Cross Bay Boulevard, the road that runs the length of an island in Jamaica Bay between Howard Beach and Rockaway Beach. It's a long (about 4km) flat stretch, which makes almost anyone on a bike feel like a sprinter, at least for a few minutes. The day was sunny, though chilly, and we were buffeted by the winds one expects at this time of year. Still, I think both he and I felt about ten years younger.
Actually, I felt even younger than that. A man--a trim one, who looked like he'd been riding more than I'd been--wanting to draft my wheel. Hey, if he'd asked me, I probably would have pulled him with one hand!
Somehow he looked familiar. He was maybe a centimeter, if that, taller than me and, as I mentioned, trimmer. His dark beard was flecked with gray, and his fair black skin had a few small wrinkles. I'd've guessed him to be close to my own age. That guess would turn out to be correct.
As we talked, I couldn't help but to think we'd met--actually, ridden--together. When I was living in Park Slope, he was living on the other side of Prospect Park, in Crown Heights. Now he lives in Bedford-Stuyvesant. So, naturally, we talked about riding in Prospect Park, and how we both had the "ten lap" rule: Once we could ride that much in the park without much effort--something that would happen around this time of year, maybe a bit earlier--we'd "graduate" to longer rides outside the park,and even outside of Brooklyn or New York City. I had a feeling I'd ridden with him on at least one of those longer rides; he had the same feeling.
He also mentioned that he'd road-raced, around the same time I did. Like me, he quit racing (and I also stopped riding off-road) after turning 40: Although, ironically, I had more strength and endurance than I did 15 years earlier, my wounds weren't healing as quickly as they once did. He also gave that as a reason for not chasing trophies, and other riders.
I rode with him for a couple of hours and, actually, off the route I'd planned to ride. But I didn't mind: Just as I was wondering whether I'd ever get myself into any kind of shape, ever again, he wanted to ride my wheel. And he thought I'd been riding more than he'd been. To be fair, I have to give at least some of the credit to Arielle:
To answer a question you might be asking: He gave me his name (which was familiar) and told me where he works.
.jpg)
