Does That Thing Have A Heater?

"Do you have a heater on that thing?"

So shouted a random stranger as I rode by.  I simply smiled and winked, though I doubt he saw the latter under my shades.

If I had stopped to talk to him, I might've said something like "This weather brings out my natural glow."  Of course, he wouldn't have known that I might not have a natural glow.  But that'll be our little secret, dear reader.

Anyway, I just had to get out for a ride.  December and May are for college instructors what March and April are for tax accountants.  I feel like I'm in that scene from Fantasia in which the brooms multiply.  The difference is, of course, is that instead of brooms, the papers are reproducing themselves everywhere I turn.  And, although I'm always learning something new (or so I hope), I am not an apprentice.  At least, I'm not considered one.



Back to the ride:  The gentleman who wondered how I could ride in the cold (about -2C or 28F, which is the coldest it's been so far this season) was walking his dog along a block of houses that are more expensive than they seem on the South Shore of Long Island.  I was, again, riding to Point Lookout on a day when about the only people walking along those streets or on the beaches were accompanied by dogs, mostly big ones.

I guess today seems polar to some people because we've had a mild fall:  In fact, I don't think the temperature fell below 5C (40F) before this week.  Interestingly, we had strong winds, sometimes as much as 80KPH (50 MPH) the other day and last weekend.  But today's air was still, which may be the reason why the weather didn't seem cold to me.

It was also probably the reason why, without any unusual effort, I kept a good pace along the flat route.   Interestingly, the only climbs I encounter are near the beginning and near the end of my ride.  Neither are long, but both are fairly steep, or seem so as they seem to erupt from the flat stretches that precede them.

The funny thing about today's ride--which left me invigorated and refreshed after 105 kilometers--was that, as I rode, I saw winter more than I felt it.  I mean, it was a bit colder than it's been and I was wearing more layers than I wore, say, a couple of weeks ago.  And I could feel the chill on my face. But, in spite of the fact that I haven't ridden much during the past couple of weeks, I wasn't feeling the cold or even a nip in the rest of my body and I felt supple, in spite of how little I've ridden during the past couple of weeks. 

The signs of the coming season were in the clouds, in the light of this day, and in the graying waves that receded into the horizon that offered a hint of a distant sunset.

I love riding under this sky, with the first hint of winter, because they are somehow intimate to me in ways that the summer light--as much as I love that, too--is not.  Perhaps it has to do with the fact that so few people are out on a day like this, and those who are--by choice--appreciate the austere beauty of such a day.

The snow that was forecast has begun to fall.  It won't last, and it won't accumulate, at least not in the Five Boroughs.  But the northern suburbs of Westchester and Rockland Counties and Connecticut might get a layer of frosting on the cake while we get a dusting, perhaps a coating.

Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear, does not have a heater, in response to the man's question.  And I'm glad she doesn't.    I wonder, though,  whether this guy (or girl) has a heater:

Who Needs What?

A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.

When I first heard that phrase, it was attributed to Gloria Steinem or Flo Kennedy.  Neither, though, has ever claimed authorship of it. Steinem, however,  once attributed it to Irene Dunn, who in turn says she was paraphrasing Charles Harris, an American psychologist who supposedly wrote "A man without faith is like a fish without a bicycle" in an article he wrote for the Swarthmore College newspaper while he was an undergraduate there during the 1950s.

But even Harris admitted that the expression probably existed long before then.  Indeed, an 1898 editorial in the Hartford Courant, a Connecticut newspaper, opined:

   The place [Aragon, Spain] didn't need an American consul any more than a cow needs a bicycle; for it had no trade with America and no American tourist ever dreamed of stopping there.  

Well, as Groucho Marx said, "You've got a point there.  Now why don't you go and put a hat over it."  I mean, a cow or a fish may not need a bicycle.  But so what?  Who's to say they can't have a bicycle if that's what they want?

Better yet--what if the fish wants to be a bicycle?

From Web Ecoist

What Have We Here? I'm Starting To Find Out

I haven't started to work on my estate-sale find yet.  I have, however begun to rummage through some components I have on hand and order a buy a few things (small parts) I need.

I did, however, begin to do a little research.  According to the serial number on the frame, and the information I found on the Vintage Trek website, my bike is probably a 1982 model.  The serial number pattern fits in with 400 series bikes made from 1980 to 1982, but the presence of a color band on the seat tube points to 1982.  On the other hand, the 412 pictured in the 1982 brochure has brazed-on brake cable guides and water bottle bosses, which my bike does not have.  Perhaps it's a 1981.5 model:  According to the VT website, the highest-priced Treks (Pro and 900 series), started to come with such bands in 1981. (The white bikes with blue panels are particularly nice, to my eye.) That feature "trickled down" to the 700 series bikes in the middle of that year (1981.5).  The 1982 brochures show 500 and 400 series models with it but, according to the website, some of those models came with color bands in late 1981.  

(Mercians, at least those made after 1970, are easier to track:  I had no trouble finding out Vera was made in 1994, as her original owner told me.  And, of course, I know that Arielle, Tosca and Helene are from 2006, 2007 and 2010, resepctively, because I had them custom-made in those years.

OK, so now I know the bike's origins, more or less.  Now I'm starting to learn a bit about the bike's quirks, aside from the ones I've already mentioned.  Actually, it's not a terribly quirky bike, from what I can see:  Threadings and other dimensions are standard, and in design it's much like other bikes of its type made around the same time, though perhaps somewhat better.

One quirk I found is in the componentry:  specifically, the Sakae crankset.  I know that some cranksets of that time were made with the 110 BCD chainring pattern, which is common today--and of which I have a few chainrings on hand.  I was hoping that the SR crankset--which looks rather nice--shared it.

Alas!  If you ever wonder what difference a few millimeters can make, you can see it here.  The black ring that I superimposed on the crank is a 110 made by Stronglight; the rings on the crankset have a slightly bigger bolt circle.  From the measurements I made, and Sheldon Brown's "crib sheet", it seems that the crank has the now-obsolete 118 BCD.  That means, of course, that I could find replacement chainrings only through swap meets and,  with luck, on eBay.

(My surprise is, I'm sure, mild compared to the frustration an owner of a Nervar Star crankset might feel:  Its 128 BCD, as close as it is to the 130 BCD of modern road racing cranks, still precludes interchangeability!) 

The rings on the bike don't seem to have much wear, so I think I'll keep them on for now:  They, and the crankset, look pretty nice.  (From what I can see, the arms are forged.)  The 52 tooth outer ring, standard for the era when the bike was made, is bigger than anything I ride now.  On the other hand, I am using 12 tooth rear cogs with my 46 and 48 tooth chainrings  (and a 17 with the 47 tooth ring on Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear):  something that didn't exist at the time the bike was made.  Then, most cyclists rode with freewheels on which the smallest cog had 14 teeth, which is what orignally came with the bike; racers sometimes used 13 tooth cogs.  If I use a freewheel with a 14 tooth cog, my highest gear will still be slightly lower than those of Arielle, Helene and Vera, my geared Mercians.  (Arielle, the road bike, has 48X12, while Helene and Vera have 46X12.)

One thing I have to say about the crank:  The bottom bracket--which, I believe, is the original--turns very smoothly.  I think someone recently overhauled it; still, I might take it apart if, for no other reason, to be sure that it has an intact protector sleeve.

Speaking of smooth bearings:  The headset feels good, but I might clean it anyway, just because I don't know when I'll do it again.  And I have a rear hub that I'm thinking of using.  The Phil that came with the bike is great, but it's 48 hole, and the rim it's laced to is 27 inches--which I'm not going to use, since I don't have a 27 inch front (The one that came with the bike wasn't salvageable.) rim, wheel or tire, and don't want to buy new ones.  The hub I have is pretty nice, though not quite as good as the Phil.

This is going to be an interesting project.  I'll probably start working on it in a couple of weeks, after classes have ended.