In the middle of the journey of my life, I am--as always--a woman on a bike. Although I do not know where this road will lead, the way is not lost, for I have arrived here. And I am on my bicycle, again.
This lovely image was created by Dai Trinh Huu. I am thankful for all of the places, people, feelings and things cycling has brought me. I am thankful I am riding at this time in my life. This is my first holiday without my mother in my life. I miss her, but I am grateful to have had in my life for as long as I did. And for the people with whom I will spend today.
A few years ago, it seemed that "drillium" might make a comeback. A few companies, including Velo Orange, were offering drilled-out versions of chainrings and other components. Some still are. VO's drilled-out chainrings are actually pretty: They seemed seemed to be covered with pindots. I'd actually put them on one or two of my bikes. Back in the heyday of drillium, it seemed that anything and everything that could take a drill--and a few things that couldn't--got the treatment. In addition to chainrings, shift levers and brake lever handles commonly got drilled. When I first began to work in a bike shop, one of the jokes about Lambert/Viscount bikes was that they came with drilled-out tires and water bottles. Seriously, though, some cyclists were manic with drills. I saw toe clips and other kinds of clips--for brake cables and water bottle cages--perforated, ostensibly in the name of saving weight. Sometimes, components that really didn't need to be any lighter were riddled with pockmarks, like the Huret Jubilee, still the lightest (and to my eye, prettiest) rear derailleur ever made. Or this derailleur I saw on eBay:
The first-generation SunTour Cyclone might be the second-lightest rear derailleur ever made. It's certainly lighter than any made today. Oh, and I think the silver version with the black inset is the second-prettiest derailleur ever made: all the more reason it shouldn't be defaced with a drill!
About thirty years ago, I was a writer-in-residence at a number of New York City schools, and St. Mary's Hospital for Children, through the Teachers and Writers program. Most of the time, I cycled to the schools or hospital. Most of the time, I had to lock my bike on city streets. That meant, for me, riding my "beater," whatever it happened to be at the time. The bikes I used for the purpose weren't bad: Bike-Boom era 10-speeds that I turned into 5- or single-speeds. (A couple were stolen; one crashed.) But they weren't as nimble and fun to ride as my racing, or even touring, bike. Sometimes, after my workshops with the kids and teachers, I'd go out for a spin on my "beater" because there wasn't enough remaining daylight for, or it was simply easier than, riding to my apartment and switching bikes. If I found myself in a really good rhythm, or pedaling into a headwind, I'd wish that my "beater" could transform into my racing, or even my touring, bike. Have you ever wished, in the middle of a ride, that the bike you're riding could become another bike? Perhaps you were yearning for a bike you didn't have. Or, you own multiple bikes, took one out and, because the day's ride was not what you'd anticipated, wished that you'd mounted one of your other steeds. (I think now of a time I pedaled my mountain bike into a stiff headwind I didn't anticipate on a course that was flatter and clearer of debris, mud and slush than I expected it to be after a snowstorm.) Well, you now you can have a "chameleon" bike
as long as you are happy on a lowrider or extra-tall bike! The strange-change machine, an entry in the Make It Move contest on Instructables, started as a full-suspension mountain bike. The rear spring was removed to make room for the gas cylinder that pivots the rear triangle. Also, the front fork was replaced with a (much) longer one. Gotta love that paint job!
