Last night I did something on a whim. Actually, some plans I'd made were cancelled by the person with whom I'd made them. I had mixed feelings about that: On one hand, I lost some money, though not a fortune. On the other hand, I would have been doing something that, when I think about it, I realize I didn't particularly want to do: I would have been working with a high-school kid who is preparing for statewide examinations. There was a time when I could regard such a test as a "game" to win, even if I opposed the test in principle. However, I no longer feel that way. Plus, I have the feeling that the parent would have been more difficult than the kid.
As it happened, I had been riding, and had just stopped at Recycle-A-Bicycle in DUMBO, Brooklyn when I got the message. I was looking for a part, which they happened to have--and the price was reasonable. The funny thing was that the young woman who helped me mentioned that volunteers were coming to their shop last night to help with dissassembly of donated bikes. I asked about some of their programs and volunteering opportunities; after describing them, she asked whether I might be interested. I said I couldn't help them last night, as I'd had a commitment, but I'd keep them in mind.
After the kid's mother cancelled the tutoring appointment==The kid had an allergy attack--I turned around and offered to help out at Recycle-A-Cycle.
Now, I haven't worked in a bike shop in close to two decades. Since then, the only bikes on which I've worked have belonged to friends, family members or me. But everyone seemed so relaxed; most of the people there were just learning how to fix bikes. I worked in a group with a young fellow named Darren, who was giving hands-on instruction to two other volunteers.
About half an hour in, he said, "You know what you're doing!" and I found myself co-instructing with him. One of our "pupils" was another young man named, who was about Darren's age; the other was another woman who was somewhere between his age and mine but who grew up working on machines with her father and brother.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that I was taking on the role of instructor as I was helping to strip bikes down. When the young man was pulling a V-brake arm off a a badly neglected bike and the stud on which the brake is mounted came off the frame, he thought he'd done something stupid or wrong. I assured him that he'd done neither, and that he was in a "guilt free zone." As for the woman: She has mechanical skills, but she had never worked on a bicycle. I pointed out that she was progressing well, and that she was doing more in her very first attempt at working on a bicycle than I did in mine--which, by the way, is the truth.
Anyway, I think I''ll continue to volunteer with Recycle=A=Bicycle as long as my schedule allows. I also want to ride, and work with, WE Bike, a women's cycling group I encountered at the New Amsterdam Bike Show.
This bike was parked outside PS 1 this afternoon:
Because I have a weakness for stories, I constructed a few in my mind. I imagined a four-year-old girl looking at Lara Favretto's pieces. Wow, I thought, that girl is a much better kid than I was!
Then again, she might have been sneaking away from her parent(s) or whoever else was caring for her. That would make her more advanced, at least, than I was. Imagine having the wherewithal to be able to rebel in such a way! Imagine being able to choose, at that age, riding your bike to an art museum as a form of rebellion!
Or, perhaps she (I assumed she was a girl. I apologize for being so inculcated with patriarchal notions!) was a midget hipster, or hipster wannabe. Believe me, I've seen hipsters ride much stranger bikes than this one!
As I was about to take a picture on my cell phone, a woman walked toward the bike. I explained that I wanted to take a photo for this blog. I got to glimpse and wave at her daughter, who rode the bike and whose name I didn't get. But the mother's name is Holly. Holly, I hope you're reading this!
Anyway, from PS 1, I rode over the Pulaski Bridge into Greenpoint. On the bridge's bike/pedestrian lane, and into Brooklyn, I found myself riding behind a man on this bike:
It's a Strida. I snapped the picture--again, with my cell phone--as we were riding. I was going to approach him at the next light, but he turned. Oh well.
Perhaps the little girl who rode the bike parked at PS 1 will grow up to ride a Strida--or Brompton or some other small-wheeled bike for grown-ups. And maybe she'll bring it inside PS 1 or her school or workplace.
On the other hand, I don't imagine the man I saw on the Strida had ever ridden a bike like hers!
After the rain stopped, and I'd downed a lunch special from Fatima Chinese Restaurant (a Halal Kung Po Chicken with Hot and Sour Soup), I hopped on Tosca.
My late-afternoon ride took me through some areas that are very familiar to me: the industrial areas that line Newtown Creek from the Queens side of the Koszciusko Bridge. Even on weekdays, there really isn't as much traffic as one might expect--and, because much of it is truck traffic, it's sporadic.
Railroad tracks rim the creek on the Queens side. Next to the tracks are warehouses and small factories that line Review Avenue. I've been trying to find out how that street got its name: It doesn't look to me like very many things ever got reviewed there.
Across the Avenue from those factories and warehouses is a cemetery. Actually, you can't see the cemetery from the street, as it's on higher ground. So, what you see is a stone wall.
What's interesting about the stone wall is the graffiti: It's from a more innocuous time, at least in terms of graffiti:
Also, it's much simpler, in composition and color (Do I sound like a pretentious art critic, or what?), than what we see today.
The style and the content of the graffiti tells you that it's older. Plus, I've seen the graffiti on that wall for the past 25 or so years. In fact, I even recall seeing some of it, including the piece in the next photo, during my early adolescence, when my family passed through the area on our way to visit relatives.
It makes me wonder where Joe is now. He's well into middle age, or possibly even an old man, if he's still alive. I suspect I could say the same things about Al. As for Marty and Janet: Did they stay together? Get married? Or did one of them go away to college, or war , and never see each other again?
I also wonder whether any of the people (men, mostly) who work in the area have ever noticed the graffiti on the wall. If they haven't, I guess the job fell to a cyclist. It makes sense: Cyclists, in my experience, tend to be curious people. I wonder why that's so.
Since January, I have been commuting on MKS Lambda pedals. They are, of course, the pedals that Rivendell sells as its "Grip King" model.
Well, these pedals certainly live up to the moniker Rivendell gave them. Nearly every comment I've read or heard mentioned their grippiness. And, while nearly all of the comments were positive, a couple of cycling acquaintances warned me that they could become slippery in wet weather. Apparently, the "cups" on the pedal collected water and made the pedal slick.
I am happy to report that I didn't experience anything of the sort--even when I got caught in a torrential downpour moments after pedaling away from the Kingsborough campus. It was the heaviest rain in which I've ridden in some time, so I feel confident that a cyclist's feet remain on the Grip King/Lambda pedal even in the worst of conditions.
My confidence in the grip of these pedals is enhanced by the fact that I have ridden on them in Keen sandals, slingbacks with three-inch heels, LL Bean rain boots, cross-trainers and a few other kinds of shoes. In fact, I feel even more confident about the grip of these pedals than I do about the grip of rubber-block variety found on three-speeds.
About rubber-block pedals: MKS makes what is probably the only high-quality, rebuildable version of such pedals available today. They are also one of the last makers of good-quality traditional toe-clippable road pedals. But, in my experience, MKS doesn't seem to regard people who want such pedals as a "captive" audience. The company--which still makes all of its pedals in Japan--builds sturdy, well-finished pedals that are reasonably priced and lighter than some cyclists might expect.
Lambda/Grip King shares the qualities I've just mentioned. Mine have survived, with hardly a scratch, a couple of close encounters with curbs and a fall I took. And, even though they are the widest pedals I've ridden in a long time, I am surprised at the amount of cornering clearance they offer. On the other hand, they don't offer the kind of ground clearance you can get from the company's GR-9 platform pedal, or its White Industries or Lyotard counterparts.
The Grip King/Lambda pedals also share another characteristic of MKS pedals--at least the loose-bearing models, at any rate. Chances are, when you turn the axle on your brand-new set, it will feel a bit tight. You might even feel a slight amount of roughness. If you're a perfectionist, you can repack the grease or even change the bearings. But I found that after a few rides, the bearings started to feel smoother. Now, while not as smooth as sealed-bearing pedals, they are probably as smooth as the best ball-bearing pedals I've ridden.
As for the bearings: They are not cartridge bearings, which are what most people think of when they hear "sealed bearings". However, the steel balls in the Lambda/Grip Kings seem well-protected against the elements. So, even though I've ridden through some bad weather, and anticipate riding through some more, I anticipate riding these pedals for quite a while before I'll need to overhaul them.
I will admit that, when I start pumping or spinning at the end of a stressful day, I do miss having foot retention on these pedals. Even though these pedals will hold your feet, you can't "pull" on the upstroke as you can with toe clips and straps or "clip-in" (what the Brits sometimes call "snap-in") pedals. I tried installing velcro grip straps but they were too wide, and spaced too close together, to fit on the Lambda/Grip Kings. I ruined the straps when I tried trimming them to fit. Maybe I'll try another pair.
Like many of you, I thought the pedals were pretty strange-looking when I first saw them. However, when you're riding, you don't see your pedals much. Also, because they have a flat profile, they don't stand out as much on many bikes as you might expect. They blended in surprisingly well on Vera, the bike on which I've been commuting. That may have something to do with the Velo Orange "hammered" fenders I installed on the bike.
On the whole, I highly recommend the MKS Lambda/Grip King pedals for commuting, errands and shopping, or any other kind of cycling for which you wear ordinary shoes and don't care about speed. The MSRP seems to be around $55; however, you can get them for around $40, or even less, from Tree Fort Bikes (which have become one of my favorite online bike retailers) and a few other places.
I hadn't ridden along that stretch of Metropolitan Avenue, or in that neighborhood, in at least five years. That, in spite of the fact that it's only about twenty minutes' worth of pedaling, if that, from where I live.
The area has the feel of an old-style New York blue-collar neighborhood. That in itself is not a reason for me not to ride there; in fact, my old Brooklyn neighborhood was very similar, so I feel somewhat comfortable in it. Plus, that stretch has one of the better pizzerias and a couple of really good Italian bakeries, as well as a few pleasant family-owned stores of one kind and another.
One of those stores is Twin Bicycles. Eric, who is now one of the part-owners, looks like one of the kids who'd come into the shop to buy BMX bikes or accessories, or simply to hang out. He's actually very friendly and articulate, and wanted to know as much as he could about Arielle, the bike I rode today. Back in the day, the shop sold bicycles like the ones I saw in the window:
They are Klein mountain bikes, made in the USA before Trek took over the company. The one in neon sunset colors is the "Attitude" model. It, and the other bike belong to a longtime customer of the shop. In fact, that customer bought the bikes new from the shop. Although the Attitude's paint job could have come from the period, it was re-painted when the bike was re-fitted with the Rock Shox front fork.
Here is another shot of them:
With those paint jobs, I felt as if something like Depeche Mode's "Enjoy The Silence" should have been playing in the background. I have always liked that song, but thought it was a little odd because the lyrics include these lines: "Words are very unnecessary/They can only do harm." That may be true, at least in some instances. But how would the song have been written without words?
But I digress. Those of you who have '80's and '90's mountain or BMX bikes might want to get in touch with Eric, for he has some new-old-stock parts from that era. Among them are a dozen sets of SunTour XC roller-cam brakes that are still in their original boxes!
Anyway, our conversation reminded me of how long it had been since I'd visited the shop, or ridden that stretch of Metropolitan Avenue. I asked about his father, who owned the store. "Oh, he died five years ago." That surprised me, for I thought he couldn't have been more than about five years older than I am. Complications from diabetes claimed him only two years after his father (Eric's grandfather) died the same way.
Right now, all of the bikes in the shop (the ones I saw, anyway) were repairs. "Lots of people want to fix up their old bikes," he said, confirming what I've seen and other shop owners and employees have told me. Still, he plans to sell new bikes again: He said he's just made arrangements with Trek. Given the neighborhood and Twin's history as a family-oriented shop, it makes sense.
I might take another ride over there soon, as I saw at least one item I might use. Plus, Eric is a pleasant fellow.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
