Riding In Beauty

 Some of you would  cringe if I quote a Carpenters’ song. I wouldn’t blame you.  But I’m going to cite one of their tunes anyway: “Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.”

Today is a very rainy Monday.  I don’t mind:  Yesterday, Saturday and Friday afternoon comprised one of the most glorious weekends for cycling I’ve had in this part of the world. The skies ranged from clear azure to swirly silver and blue with the sun piercing through—and temperatures from 15 to 25c (60 to 77F).

Friday afternoon was a ramble along the Brooklyn and Queens waterfronts between my apartment and the Williamsburg Bridge, and out to the Hispanic and Hasidic neighborhoods of the non-gentrified areas of Williamsburg and East Williamsburg.  

Saturday was ideal for a trek to Greenwich, Connecticut: I pedaled into the wind through the Bronx, Westchester County and over the ridge into the Nutmeg State.  That meant I rode the wind home.

I had the same kind of luck with the wind yesterday, when I pushed my way out to Point Lookout and glided home. The wind seemed to have blown out of the south-southeast:  I had to put more effort into the first stretch, going mostly south from my apartment to Rockaway Beach, than I did on the mostly-eastward section from Rockaway to the Point.

I didn’t take any photos on Friday or Saturday because, as beautiful as those experiences were, they are rides I’ve done many times and I didn’t see anything unusual. That will probably change soon enough, at least on the Connecticut ride, when Fall begins to paint the trees and foliage from its pallette.

On yesterday’s ride, though, a vista from the western end of the Long Beach boardwalk reflected the way this weekend’s rides felt:

I rode in beauty, or at least its light, this weekend. Maybe this rainy Monday won’t get me down, at least not too much.

(In case you were wondering, I rode Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear on Friday. Saturday, Dee-Lilah, my Mercian Vincitore Special, took me to Connecticut.  And yesterday La-Vande, my King of Mercia, brought me to the beaches.)

Clothes Make The Rider

Some cyclists simply cannot imagine wearing anything but Lycra while riding. For a time, I was such a rider.

These days, I don't wear Lycra--though, perhaps, not for the same reason as this rider:

Can you imagine him in an outfit like this?: 

The Campag Kid Is Holey

 

No, this isn’t one of my Mercians—though you may be forgiven for thinking that it is.

Rather, it’s an almost-finished build by someone who calls himself “The Campag Kid.” Here in the US, we call Campagnolo “Campy,” but in the UK, the nickname is “Campag.”

That distinction is just one indication of how bicycle culture  in England differed from that of the US or Continental Europe in the 1970s. Bicycle racing—and cycling in general—was ending a long period of dormancy.  In countries like France, Belgium and Italy, the racing scene was dominated by one-day “classics” and multi-day time trials.  But in England, the chief mode of competitive cycling was the time trial.  So, perhaps, it’s not surprising that Campag Kid’s heroes were Alf Engers, Beryl Burton and of course Eddy Mercx. 

It was Eddy who, wittingly or not, started the cult of “drillium.” The word is a portmanteau of “drilling” and “titanium,” and the practice involved, basically, drilling components—usually Campagnolo—within an inch of their lives.

The bike Eddy rode for his 1972 hour record ride was adorned with “holey” stuff. The belief then—as in some quarters today—was that “lighter is faster.” As titanium was used only for small bits like fastening nuts and carbon fiber was a couple of decades on the horizon. So aluminum and steel parts were the ones that got the treatment.

The 1970s Mercian Superlight frame Campag Kid is building lived up to its name:  It was one of the lightest road frames—and had one of the tightest geometries—available  at the time.

As Campag Kid explains,  the cult of drillium—which was arguably even stronger in the UK than in the US—died in the 198Os as aerodynamics came to dominate high-performance bicycle component design. All of those holes came to be seen as “wind catchers,” and aerodynamic parts, although they were sometimes heavier than even non-drilled bits, were believed to be more efficient.

Whether or not drillium has any effect on speed, it certainly can be eye-catching. Oh, and I love the color of that Mercian—and the fact that it’s a Mercian!