16 October 2020

More Riders+ Not Enough Bikes=Theft

 For as long as there have been bicycles, there have been bike thieves.  That's my guess, anyway.

I also reckon that bicycle thefts increase along with the popularity of cycling.  As I've mentioned in other posts, I became a dedicated cyclist as a teenager, late in the North American Bike Boom of the 1970s.  Until that time, there didn't seem to be much bike theft and the loss of a bicycle was seen like losing a toy, mainly because almost all bikes at that time were ridden by kids.

During the "boom", for the first time in about half a century, significant numbers of American adults were riding bicycles.  While most pedaled for recreation or fitness, a few rode to work.  That, I believe, the reason why bike theft was taken more seriously.

That is, by everyone except the police.  If you were to report your stolen bike, you'd be told, explicitly or implicitly, that you wouldn't see it again.  They had bigger fish to fry; never mind that the person might have been using the bike to put food on his or her table.




History repeats itself, plus ca change, or whatever how you want to say it.  Bike sales have surged.  So have bike thefts.  Worse, methods that haven't been seen since the "bad old days" of high crime have made a comeback.  There  are reports of bikes lifted, along with the railings to which they were locked,  from the insides of buildings.  And, in the Bronx, eight men attacked a 15-year-old boy and took the bike he was riding.

Stealing the bike may not have been the ultimate goal in that attack, though the bike was a worthwhile "haul" for the perps.  Some of the other thefts may have been "fenced" for quick cash.  But, according to reports, some of bikes may have been stolen because of the current shortage, caused by a spike in demand combined with a disruption of supply chains.


15 October 2020

Lighting--And Measuring--The Way

Soubitez and Huret.

What do they have in common?  Well, for one thing, they're both French.  For another, they made parts and accessories found on constructeur bikes as well as basic ten-speeds from the 1970s Bike Boom.

Huret was best-known for its derailleurs, though it made other parts.  Soubitez, on the other hand, was renowned for its bicycle lights, most of which were dynamo-powered.

So, other than being French and found on many of the same bikes, Soubitez and Huret wouldn't seem to have much in common--or much reason to collaborate.  Or would they?

In addition to derailleurs, shifters and frame fittings (such as dropouts), Huret also made some cycling accessories.  Perhaps its most famous was its Multito cyclometer, which ran quieter and registered more accurately than other bicycle odometers because it used belt-driven pulleys rather than the wheel-and-striker system of more traditional devices like the Lucas. 

Before the Multito was introduced, in the late 1970s, Huret made speedometer/odometers that attached to the handlebars and emulated similar devices found on motorcycles and in cars.  Huret sold it under its own marque, but bike makers like Schwinn rebranded it, which is how it ended up on countless kids' "muscle" bikes of that time.

Schwinn and other companies also rebadged Soubitez lights and dynamos, including the extremely popular "bloc" dynamo-light combo that attached to the front fork. (I had one on my Continental.) 

Even with the seeming ubiquity of Soubitez lights and Huret speedometers and odometers, I don't think it ever occurred to me (or anyone I knew) to combine a light with a speedometer or odometer.  Apparently, though, it was done.  





I tried to find more information about the Soubitez 941 K N.  It may well have been exported to the US and I missed it, but I don't recall seeing it anywhere back when so many of us rode with Soubitez blocs and Huret speedometers (and derailleurs:  the one on my Continental was a re-branded Huret Allvit).  The 941 K N seems to have been supplied with a Huret speedometer cable and driver.  They may well have been the power source for the light.  Or, judging by the shape of the light, it may have housed dry-cell batteries.

If that driver and cable were indeed the light's power source, it's not hard to imagine that the Soubitez 941  K N may well have influenced modern bike computers. Otherwise, it's an interesting curiosity.


14 October 2020

Workers On A Late-Day Ride

Three weeks after the autumnal equinox, days grow noticeably shorter.  That, I feel, makes late-afternoon rides even sweeter:  Sunlight simmers into shades of sand, stone and rust just before the sun begins to set.

And, it seems, I notice things anew, or for the first time, along familiar routes.  Today, I pedaled a loop that skirted the edge of LaGuardia Airport and wiggled through an industrial waterfront area.  I had one ulterior motive: to climb the local version of Mount Ventoux.  It's nowhere near as high as that iconic French peak that has served as a "statement" climb for Tour de France winners and leaders, but the hill erupts, seemingly out of nowhere, from the cauldron of Berrian Boulevard and up 41st Street.  

After my second climb, I coasted back to Berrian, where a building I'd passed a number of times before caught my eye:



It's a waste water treatment plant, which is why it's surrounded by a chain-link fence.  The ship portal-style holes are telltale signs of an Art Deco-influenced Works Progress Administration building.  Other similarly-styled and -detailed buildings stand in other parts of this city.  This one, though, must have the least conspicuous location as well as purpose of such buildings.








WPA public works buildings like this one often feature some interesting bas-reliefs, often depicting scenes of workers, if in stylized or romanticized ways.  Ironically, works like these were made at about the same time  "social realism"--which also featured stylized and romanticized scenes of workers--was taking shape in the former Soviet Union.



The late day light and air would have been enough of a reward from my late-day ride.  But they highlighted something I noticed, for the first time, along a familiar route.