A Parade of Bicycles for the Fourth of July

Today, in parades all over the nation, we will see bicycles decorated for the occasion.  Some are embodiments of patriotic fervor, like this bike:

From It's Overflowing

I'm not sure what brand it is, or whether it's even made in the US.  It has an American flag on its seat tube, but it looks new enough not to have been made here.  Still, it looks like an old American cruiser; it even has an Ashtabula crank--unlike the retro-repro models, which usually have cheap three-piece cotterless cranks.

But I'm not going to quibble.  For contrast, here's something with a more contemporary flair:

From Jersey Knitter

"Jersey Knitter" decorated those bikes a few years ago for the parade in the Garden State community of Montclair.  I would imagine that when those colors spin, the visual effect might be like a pinwheel firework.

In contrast to those examples of patriotic pedal power, here's a Dutch-style city bike decked out for the most American of holidays:

From  Detroit Mommies

In some weird way, this bike makes sense. If nothing else, the white bike makes a good "canvas", if you will, for the color palette.  Also, in a weird way, it makes sense historically.  After all, were it not for the Dutch (and French, Spanish and Poles), the American colonies might not have gained their independence from the British crown.  In fact, the Netherlands was the first nation to recognize the United States of America as a sovereign country.

Plus, the Dutch gave the world Mondrian. What would Look bicycles and the LaVie Claire team used for their logos if they didn't have Mondrian's compositions of lines and primary colors?

Rocket Bike

Pretty much all things that can be done--and a few things you wouldn't want to do--on a mountain bike have been done in Moab, Utah.

They include this Fourth of July celebration.  At least, I hope it was a Fourth of July celebration.  Otherwise. there are at least a couple of really crazy cyclists in the Colorado Plateau's  Mecca of Mountain Biking.

I Raced On This Bike: Colnago Arabesque

After reading some of my other posts, some might argue that the bike of which I'm going to write in this post is the best racing machine I ever owned or rode.

In future posts, I'll tell you why it wasn't--at least, not for me--and which bike was.  Still, it was a great bike and I sold it to buy my next racing bike (Mondonico) only because I thought it might be a better fit.

If I do say myself, though, it's hard to deny that my Colnago Arabesque was pretty, or at least had an interesting style. If nothing else, it didn't look just like other Italian racing bikes of its time.  Although it was essentially the same in geometry as the Colnago "Master", the Arabesque had a few nice touches the Master lacked:

Like my Mondonico, my Colnago Arabesque was constructed from Columbus SL tubing:  the lightest available from the company at that time.  Many other riders I knew, and rode against, at the time were convinced that bikes built from Columbus were stiffer than those made from Reynolds, Ishiwata, Tange or Vitus tubings.  That may well have been true, but I found that bikes with short wheelbases constructed from Columbus SL tubing gave a harsh enough ride that I might not have ridden as fast as I might have on, say, a Reynolds 531 or 753 bike. (853 wasn't yet available).

Plus, I have to say that while the bike's workmanship and finish were pretty good, they weren't quite up to the standards one might expect from other top-flight bikes. Given that the Colnago was my first elite-level Italian bike, I was surprised at how easily the paint chipped.

Still, I must say that the Colnago Arabesque was a fast bike and its harshness was mitigated at least somewhat by the tubular (sew-up) tires I usually rode on them.  Most high-pressure racing clinchers of the time rode harshly; tubulars were more resilient.  I used one of Vittoria's less expensive models for training rides on Mavic GP4 rims; for races and other fast rides, I rode some nice French Wolber "Course" or Czech Barum tires on Mavic GEL 330 rims.

Now, given the criticisms I've made of this bike, I still can't say that it's not the reason I wasn't a better racer!

I sold it to a guy who called himself Joneszy.  He was a bike mechanic who claimed that chrome-moly tubing was actually aluminum and called cogs "clogs".  Still, he knew enough to know that the Arabesque was a good fit for him, as he had a longer torso than mine.

I didn't see him again.  I didn't see the Arabesque for a few years until Tammy and I were walking along Flatbush Avenue near the Brooklyn Academy of Music.  A middle-aged black man stopped for a traffic light; his bike caught my eye.  Yes, it was my old Arabesque.

"You bought that from Joneszy, didn't you?"

"Yeah...How did you know?"

"I sold it to him."

Of course, he wanted to know how I knew it was the same bike. I pointed to a decal I placed on the downtube, just behind the head tube lug.  The paint chipped there; the silver and black decal--which came with someone's Huret Success titanium derailleur--was at least tasteful, and just big enough to cover the chip.

What were the chances of anyone else having a Colnago Arabesque with a Huret Success decal in the exact same spot?

By The Time We Got To Stonewall

You've all heard "Woodstock" by Crosby Stills Nash & Young.  If you haven't, you have 43 years of catching-up to do.

I'll bet that unless you're one of her fans, you probably didn't know that Joni Mitchell actually wrote the song.  She was going to perform it, but wasn't able to go to the festival.  So CSNY--who were performing only for the second time as a group--did it.

But I digress.  I was thinking about that song--and about Melanie's "Lay Down" when I took this photo with my cell phone:

Yes, I was in NYC Pride.  I marched with the Anti-Violence Project (and wore one of those T-shirts).  Near the end of the march, we passed the Stonewall Inn, where the events that made Pride possible took place on a hot early summer night in 1969.

It's the first time in four years--and since my surgery--that I've marched.  I normally don't care much for parades--as a marcher or spectator--but I make an exception for Pride.  And marching with the Anti-Violence Project was right for me:  I've been volunteering with them, and they (especially one counselor, "Miss Vicki" Cruz), have helped me to deal with the aftermath of a relationship.

After marching with AVP, I walked over to St. Luke In The Fields--only steps from the end of the march--for a picnic and Evensong. A contingent from the church--and the Episcopal diocese--promenaded down Christopher Street about three hours after AVP.

I don't know how many people marched or spectated, but I'd bet that number is much larger than that of those who performed at, and attended, Woodstock!  And, yes, we were strong and all the other things (except, perhaps, as full of drugs) as were those who went to Max Yasgur's farm to see and hear CSNY, Jimi Hendrix and all of those other legendary performers.

We got Lady Gaga and Edie Windsor.  While Edie's not a performer, she's one of our stars.  At least, she deserves the "star" treatment! 

Needless to say, I didn't do any bike-riding yesterday.  But, ironically, my AVP T-shirt had the same Citi logo as the Citibike program.

Pedaling In Protest

Last night,  I stayed out late, but with good reason.

I volunteered to help the Anti-Violence Project with its outreach.  That meant handing out cards with safety tips and "survival" packets (consisting of male and female condoms and cards with emergency phone numbers) in the Village.  I worked with two other volunteers--one male, the other female, but both named Dan--until about 10 pm.

At the end of our "shift", we came to the Stonewall Inn just in time for a commemoration of the historic event that made the bar famous.  On the night of 28 June 1969, cops showed  up to raid the place.  Such raids of gay bars, most of which were operated by the Mafia, were common in those days.  But on that particular night, bar patrons defied the police.  Several nights of rioting ensued.

In all of the photos I've seen from those demonstrations, I haven't seen anyone on a bicycle.  Admittedly, few adults cycled in New York--or just about anywhere in the US--in those days.  

Now, of course, it's common to see cyclists involved in public protests:  The Occupy demonstrations come to mind. I don't know when bicycles first became a regular feature of  street protests, but I suspect that moment may have come (at least in New York) in 1980.  Then, cyclists rallied to prevent then-Mayor Ed Koch from removing the bike lanes the city had only recently installed:

Hal Ruzal, the longtime mechanic of Bicycle Habitat (and the person who turned me on to Mercians) is in  this photo.  He and Charlie McCorkle, the owner and founder of Habitat,  helped to organize those demonstrations.  In those days, the cycling community was smaller and, in many ways, tighter-knit than it is today.  

I wonder whether Charlie, Hal or any of those other cyclists (who comprised much of the early membership of a fledling organization called Transportation Alternatives) had any idea that they were changing the face of public gatherings.