Tosca and the Pursuit of Young Love

You know what they say about the Spring...specifically, about where a young man's fancy turns:

Here is the young man:

After I snapped this, a friend of his happened by:

Of course, not all were in pursuit of love at Coney Island.  Some, apparently, already have it.

And Tosca was taking it all in:

which is odd, given that Tosca (Puccini's, anyway) was never known for simply taking things in.

Remembrance of Bike Past: Romic

So why am I posting a photo of a weird bike I've never seen in person?


Well, believe it or not, it's personal for me.  


Those of you who know me, whether in person or through this blog, know that I have never owned a bike that even remotely resembles that one, and that I've ridden such bikes maybe a couple of times in my life.


Did some hipster use his fixie in an anger management class?Or did some messenger smoke too much of, shall we say, something that's not made by a subsidiary of RJ Reynolds?


Actually, the original owner of that bike had the frame built that way.  Apparently, it was built as a pursuit track frame.  

One thing that makes it more interesting is that the frame was built by a builder with a conservative reputation (in building practices, anyway:  I know nothing about his politics!).


Romic bicycles were built by Ray Gasiorowski in Houston from the mid-70's until the mid-90's.  On some frames he used Nervex-style lugs; on others, he used plainer but elegant long-point lugs.  His work was very clean and solid, if not blingy.  

     
This is a road-racing bike he made, apparently, some time during the early '90's.  Like most of his bikes, it was constructed of Reynolds 531 tubing.  


Here is a Romic touring frame:

Some non-Reynolds Romic bikes were made of Columbus or Tange tubing.  Some of the builder's touring and sport-touring frames had Reynolds 531 main triangles and Tange rear triangles and forks.  I suspect that such was the case with the pictured bike.


My suspicion is an informed one: I had one of those bikes.  It was a sport-touring model, which featured geometry somewhere between the racing and touring bikes in the photos. It was the first frame I ever bought and built up.  


At the time, it was my only bike.  And it was the kind of bike you wanted to have if you were going to have only one:  I toured and raced with it.  The rear triangle was surprisingly stiff for a bike with its geometry; it gave a zippy ride when I put a pair of tubular wheels and tires on it but was remarkably stable when I rode it, with a rack, panniers and handlebar bag, through England and France.  


One of my youthful follies was deciding that I needed a "racier" bike.  So I sold my Romic and bought a Trek frame made from Columbus tubing.  In those days, some Trek racing frames--including the one I bought--had even shorter chainstays and wheelbases than most Italian criterium bikes.  A few cyclists still seek those Trek frames from the late 70s and early 80s for their stiffness.   However, some of them had a problem that could prove painful:  the seat clusters broke off them.  


As far as I know, nothing like that ever happened to a Romic.  Better yet, I still remember the bike--and, more important, the ride--all of these years later.  When I ordered Arielle, I had that Romic in mind.  You might say that my Mercian road bike is an updated, somewhat tighter, version of that Romic from my youth.


Note:  Romic mountain-bike shocks have no relationship to Romic bicycles.  In fact, I think the first Romic shocks were made after Ray Gasiorowski died in 1996.

Even Better Than A Rockette

This morning, I had to go to my doctor's office in Chelsea for a blood sample.  Along the way, I saw this bike parked outside Radio City Music Hall:

Yes, it's a Mercian Vincitore.  Check out the head lugs:

OK, so the pants band blocks the lower head lug.  But what you see on the top lug is a fine example of Mercian's work.


The color is an indigo-ish purple.  The seat tube and head panels are a kind of light beige, with a tint of yellow. The owner/rider, it seems, decided to highlight the yellow  with the rims, pedals and handlebar tape.  While I'm not crazy about the "hipster fixie" touches,  I do like the overall look of the bike.  Plus, it's a Mercian, which by itself makes the bike interesting.

Cinco de Mayo Bike Jam

In my time, I've cycled on pretty much every holiday you can think of, including ones I never celebrated.  For that matter, I've probably cycled on holidays without even knowing it.

I'd guess that, in most years, I've ridden on Cinco de Mayo, whether it was a weekend day ride or simply a commute to work, as I did today.  But I never did a ride like this:

I suppose that's about as appropriate a ride as any for this fete.  This ride was scheduled for today in--where else?--Texas.  It was in Austin, to be precise.  If I'm not mistaken, that's Lance Armstrong's hometown.


I wonder whether he ever did a ride like that.  BMX is one of the few kinds of riding I've never done, mainly because I was a bit old for it by the time it came along.  That, and bicycle polo.  But who'd play a game of bicycle polo on Cinco de Mayo?   I would, just because "bicycle polo on Cinco de Mayo" has a nice ring to it, verdad?  (I couldn't type an upside-down question mark before "verdad.")  


Anyway...Did you do a ride to commemorate this day?  Or did you just do a ride and eat Mexican food afterward?  Actually, that's what I did.  And I washed it down with a "virgin" margarita. That's how I reward myself for doing something I enjoy.  Es una buena vida, verdad?

A Bike I'll Own For Two Weeks

I wasn't going to mention this.  But if you've been following this blogs, you're probably curious about the bikes that come my way.

Here's something I bought--albeit very cheaply--on impulse:

It's a Bridgestone MB-6 from, what I can tell, 1994.  That would make it one of the last Bridgestones to be imported to this country.  In the mid-1990's, the dollar lost a lot of value against the yen, which caused Bridgestone, along with Japanese bike makers,to cease their operations in the US.

I debated whether to keep it or sell it.  If I were to do the latter, I could almost certainly make a decent profit, given how little I paid for the bike and the fact that some cyclists and collectors seek out Bridgestones.  Plus, the bike is in excellent condition.  I don't think it was ridden much.  Or, it may have been ridden a lot for a season or two, then stored.    From what I can see, all of the equipment is original.  And there are a couple of large scratches, but the paint is in excellent condition overall.  It's a dark metallic blue with a slight tinge of purple--something like the color of the Velo Orange mixte frame.

After some careful consideration--keep or sell--I decided to do...neither.  No, I'm not being indecisive again.  Rather, I decided to take a third course of action.  

Some of you may have already figured out what I'm doing:  I'm donating the bike. In a previous post,  I mentioned a program in Westchester County that helps immigrants.  They actually have a bicycle workshop where they repair and refurbish donated bicycles that are given to the immigrants, mainly young men, who use them for transportation.

Actually, as I understand, the bikes are used as rewards for completing other tasks and taking English classes.  That made the idea of donating this Bridgestone even more appealing:  Whoever ends up with it will be getting a really good bike, but will have merited it in some way. So, I hope, that person will appreciate it.

I mean, I feel better about donating something I might have used myself.  Better yet, it's a bike I might have--say, when I first started riding off-road--bought with money I earned.  So I don't feel like I'm merely "getting rid" of the bike. 

On Tuesday, I'm going to bring it to work, where my co-worker who volunteers with the program will pick it up and give me a receipt.