Campagnolo's Coelacanth

The first time I saw this, I thought I was looking at the bike of someone whose dollars spent exceeded the number of miles ridden on his bike.  I mean, who else would have a Campagnolo quick-release lever in that position?

A second glance revealed, of course, that it wasn't a quick-release lever.  But could that be...a coaster brake hub?...I wondered.  

I thought I knew Campy stuff pretty well. Even though I never rode BMX, I knew the legendary Italian company made some of the best components available for that kind of riding. I also remember their short-lived mountain bike lineup (Euclid).  I even recalled  that they made parts for aircraft and NASA spacecraft as well as race cars and motorcycles.  And, oh, yes, let's not forget those big corkscrews--the gold plated ones, especially.

It's yoooge.  I mean, BIG.

Still, I had not heard of a Campagnolo coaster brake hub until I saw a photo of it a few years ago.  I have since seen a few more images of it, and a few brief mentions.  I have not, however, found any Campagnolo catalogue or other literature that listed it, or any other information pertaining to it.  When was it made?  Why did Campy begin and cease production of it?  Was its reputation on par with its Super Record racing components?  Or was it like their Delta brake:  a triumph of technology and aesthetics over function?  

Even though the Bike Boom--which made ten-speeds all the rage--exploded during my adolescence, lots of kids still rode bike with coaster brakes.  Even though balloon-tired bikes were falling out of favor with kids my age and adults, lots of kids still looked forward to getting middleweight bikes like the Schwinn Typhoon or Hollywood, which came with coaster brakes.  Even the low-rider "muscle" bikes like Schwinn's Sting Ray were available with coaster brakes as well as with five-speed derailleurs.

Can you imagine kids on some playground trying to one-up each other? "Well, I got a Schwinn!"  "Oh, yeah.  Well, mine has a Campagnolo coaster brake."  What kind of a world would we have?  Hmm...what would the world be like if kids who weren't Italian grew up knowing how to pronounce "Campagnolo"?

From what little I've seen of them, I'd guess that the Campagnolo coaster brake hubs were well-made.  Still, if I were going to build a coaster brake wheel for myself, my first choice would be a US-made Bendix.  I overhauled and fixed enough coaster brakes when I worked in bike shops to see how much better they were than the others, including New Departure or even Sachs-Fichtel or Sturmey-Archer.  Bendix haven't been made in the 'States for about forty years (later ones were made in Mexico), but if you're nice to your bike mechanic, he or she might give you one (or sell it for not very much) out of the parts bin:  Lots of Bendix hubs have been saved from wheels that were otherwise trashed. Still, I've seen them sell for over $100 on eBay!

A few years ago, I briefly rode a Velosteel coaster brake hub.  It's certainly prettier than any other I've seen, even Campy's.   Its beauty is only skin- (or shell- ) deep, though:  Whenever I backpedaled to stop the bike, it seemed that the hub had to find its "sweet spot" before the brake engaged, and when I pedaled again after stopping, I experienced a "dead" stroke of about half a pedal revolution.

If you want a currently-made coaster brake hub, I'd say to buy Shimano's--even though it doesn't have the "cool" factor of Campagnolo's.  Actually, half of the "cool" factor would come from simply finding a Campagnolo coaster brake hub in the first place!

A Clean Sweep For The New Year....In 1898

If you ever want to see or read a Shakespeare play for fun....

Some of you may not believe that such a thing is possible.  You still have nightmares about some English teacher who made you feel foolish for not understanding the language--or, worse, not interpreting something the same way the teacher saw it.

I really try not to be one of those instructors. Really, I do.  And, yes, some students actually enjoy Shakespeare plays after I teach them.

One I have yet to teach, but am sure most students would enjoy, is A Midsummer Night's Dream.  To tell you the truth, what I have always enjoyed about it is that it messes with readers and viewers.  As you might be able to tell, there's a part of me that likes to do just that with people.   Sometimes, anyway.

And how can you not love Puck, the mischievous character who, at the end of the play, suggests to the audience that everything they just saw may be, in fact, only a dream.

(Some have suggested that the hockey puck derives its name from that character, because it is capricious and flighty, and messes with players, especially goaltenders.  Others have said it's a corruption of the "poke" used to strike or push the ball in the game of hurling.)

There was once a magazine named after the Shakespeare's character.  It ceased publication nearly a century ago.  I have seen only reproductions of a few issues.  But, from what I've seen, I'm guessing that it must have been poignant, funny and intelligent:  sort of what a magazine of New Yorker cartoons might be like if their creators (or the magazine's editors) weren't so conscious of the fact that they were New Yorker cartoons.

While most of Puck's cartoons were political editorials were political, the magazine's editorial point of view was non-partisan:  Politicians of all stripes were fair game.  Donald Trump might have pledged to "drain the swamp"; the folks at Puck would have wanted exactly that, as evidenced in this cartoon ushering in the New Year of 1898:

"A Clean Sweep For the New Year".  On a bicycle, yet.  Where are cartoons like that when we need them?

To Begin

I don't have a tradition of riding on New Year's Day.  I like to start my year that way, but it hasn't always been possible.  There were New Year's Days on which I was in one place but my bike(s) were someplace else.  Or, I woke up late or hungover, or there was snow or ice on the road.  And then there were the times I couldn't get myself out of bed.  I blame those who were in bed with me for that!

Anyway, today I woke up late, but felt fairly good.  The weather wasn't terribly cold, but it was windy (30MPH/50KPH gusts).  The forecasters said the wind would die down later in the day.  So I spent some time calling friends and family members, and doing a little work on my latest project.

Then, in the middle of the afternoon, I got out for an easy ride.  Parts of it, at one time, were part of my commute.  It includes a few short climbs that aren't really steep but can seem so if you had to stop for a traffic light or two, and therefore didn't build any momentum, before climbing.  Or if you're riding a single-speed, as I did yesterday.  Not Tosca, my Mercian fixie.  Instead, I took the LeTour, which has one gear.

I wound along some side streets in my neighborhood--Astoria--toward the East River, in the hope of seeing the whale that wandered into it.  No such luck:  Either it had wandered back out or was hiding in the depths.  At least, that's what I hope.

(By the way, the East River, which separates Brooklyn and Queens from Manhattan, is not a river. It's really a tidal estuary.  It was called a river because of a mapmaker's error.)

Anyway, I followed the bike lane along 20th Avenue toward LaGuardia Airport.  Just to the east of the terminals, I picked up the World's Fair Promenade along Flushing Bay and pedaled through Flushing to the North Shore.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that the streets, no matter where I rode, were nearly deserted:  Not only was it New Year's Day, it was Sunday.  And, although it was fairly mild, at least for this time of year (45F/8C) and the sun made an appearance, the weather didn't seem to entice many people to go outside.

One thing I love about cycling is that I can ride through an area I've ridden many times before and, by taking a turn, discover something new.  

I came upon this "entrance" to a park at the end of a street in Bayside, near St. Mary's Hospital.  I was ready to duck under that tree and, maybe ride on a dirt path or two--until I got closer and saw the fence behind it.

Actually, the entrance is on the other end of the park--not far away, but not as much of an adventure as entering under a tree!

I couldn't complain, though, about the way my first ride, on the first day of the year, ended:

So I didn't do a , as I did one New Year's Day during my youth. But I didn't have to.