Old Glory, The Union Jack Or Le Bleu, Blanc Et Rouge

Three years ago, I wrote about red, white and blue bicycles--and someone who had a red, a white and a blue Cannondale.

Now I'm going to show you some red-white-and-blue (or bleu, blanc et rouge) components and accessories. 

Ironically, one of greatest pieces of Americana kitsch--in bicycle components, anyway--was made in France:

When SRAM took over Sachs--which, in turn, had swallowed up some French component manufacturers such as Huret, Maillard and Sedis--they continued to manufacture components in the old French plants for a few years before moving their production to Taiwan (except for the chains, which are made in Portugal).

In a way, it makes sense that the "Betsy" derailleur appeared when it did , circa 1997.  That's when the craze for mountain bike parts anodized in a rainbow of colors hit its peak.  In some ways, it was a reaction against the gray uniformity (literal as well as metaphorical) of what Shimano was producing at the time.  Yes, their stuff worked fine (except for the early Rapid Fire shifters).  But a bike equipped with them had all the personality of, well, a Gateway computer with Windows 98 (which, I admit, I used for nearly a decade).  

Another offspring of that craze was the Paul Powerglide derailleur:

In addition to the red-white(well, silver)-and-blue combination shown here, it was also available in a "rasta" finish as well as purple, green, blue, red and other standard anodized colors. Whatever you chose--even plain silver or black (Now why would you do that if you were spending $280 on a derailleur?) your derailleur was emblazoned with the stars and stripes.

Here's another tricolore derailleur from around the same time:

Although branded "Stronglight", it was most likely made in the same factory as "Betsy" in the first photo.  Also, once the colors and badges are removed, it's pretty much identical to a Sachs "Success" or "Quartz" from that period.

Now here's a tricolore acessory that gets me misty-eyed:

This Zefal "Competition" pump is the predecessor of the HP series.  In fact, if you take away the thumb-lock valve fitting and the handle that switches between "HP" 9for pumping" and "X" (to mount it on your bike), you have a "Comoetition",

I used a "Competition" for years, on several bikes.  I had a SIlca Impero, which was about 60 grams lighter, for my racing bike, but for every other kind of riding, I used my Competition.  It worked better and was more durable than the Silca, and its color scheme reminded me about "liberte, egalite et fraternite."  Why I wanted to be reminded of those things, I don't know, but I don't think I'm any the worse for being reminded of them.

I'm sure there have been other components and accessories in red, white and blue or bleu, blanc et rouge.  Now all we need are bike parts that play "The Star Spangled Banner" or
 "La Marseillaise" (or, perhaps, "God Save The Queen") when you need a boost of energy.

Happy Fourth Of July.  Wish me a happy birthday.  (Yes, it's today!)

 

Le Grand Depart In Yorkshire

Le Grand Depart of this year's Tour de France will be in the Yorkshire city of Leeds on Saturday, 5 July.





One interesting feature that this year's Tour shares with last year's is that it will begin with a regular road stage rather than a prologue.  Prologues are usually time-trial events, which are much shorter than road stages.  Beginning the race with a road stage will give an opportunity for Mark Cavendish, who hails from the region, or his German rival Mark Kittel, to win the leader's yellow jersey (maillot jaune) on the first day and establish early dominance.


The first three stages of this year's race will be held in England before  rolling into French soil at Le Touquet, which is nicknamed "Paris Plage" (Paris Beach) for all of the wealthy residents of the French capital who have second and weekend homes there.

A Cyclist's "I Ching"

When I started this blog four years ago, I was a little less than a year removed from my gender-reassignment surgery.  Before that, I had been living as a woman for nearly six years.


Through my transition, I noticed my riding habits, as well as my preferences in equipment, changing. Actually, early in my process, I wondered whether I would continue to ride at all:  I went through a time when I did very little riding and was occupied with other things.


But, about two years in, I found I was regaining my enthusiasm and the amount of my riding gradually increased.  The number of miles or kilometers I ride--and, perhaps, my intensity--has not returned to what it was when I was full of testosterone (and myself).  I wondered how much of that change--not to mention the shifts in my gear preferences--had to do with estrogen replacing testosterone, and how much was simply a function of aging.





My doctor and everything I've read related to gender transitions said that I would lose some of my strength and endurance from my hormonal change.   I assume most of what I've read wasn't written by cyclists (and my doctor isn't one), so nothing was mentioned about changes in bicycle and accessory preferences.


Actually, I've always been, if not a "retrogrouch", something of a classicist when it comes to bikes.  I have never owned a carbon-fiber bike, or even a titanium one, and have ridden very few parts made from those materials.  Save for a couple of aluminum bikes, every steed of mine has been constructed of steel, mostly with aluminum alloy components.  I prefer the look of classic or classically-inspired bikes, but more to the point, a rider can form a mutually supportive relationship with one over a long period of time.  They can be adapted in ways that today's ultra-specialized bikes can't be.  Moreover, I have had repairs made to steel frames that wouldn't have been possible on frames made from other materials.


And, even when canvas bike bags and other vintage-style accessories were all but impossible to find here in the US, I looked for stuff that was interesting, tasteful and distinctive: I never went for the Darth Vader all-black look or the cartoonish graphics found on too many current bikes, parts and accessories.  For about a year or two, Cannondale offered bike bags made with Andean-style woven fabric; I used one such bag, which mounted under the seat, for many years.


But now other cyclists are discovering the utility as well as the beauty of older equipment, or gear inspired by it.  Or, perhaps, I am simply finding out about such cyclists.  I ride and chat with a few here in New York (like Hal Ruzal of Bicycle Habitat) and I've come into contact with some through my blogging.  I think in particular of the author of Lovely Bicycle! in the early days of her blog, and of the current "The Retrogrouch" as well as Ely Ruth Rodriguez, who made the bags I've been using lately.    And, of course, there is Chris Kulczyki of Velo Orange, who started off by selling old parts he and his friends found in warehouses and, later, having modern versions--often, with better materials and design refinements--made.


One thing all of those cyclists--and others I've encountered--have in common is that they're near my age or, at least, past the stage in life in which people equate novelty with quality or, at least, hipness.  It's at such a time in your life that you stop thinking that fenders are only for people who are too (fill in the blank) to win a race!

Is Amtrak About To Make It Easier To Travel With Your Bike?

One nice thing about cycling in Europe (at least, when I've done it) was the relative ease of bringing bikes on trains.  I've brought my bikes on intercity trains in England, France, Italy and Germany.  The drill was always more or less the same:  Wheel the bike up to the baggage handler's booth.  A clerk would give you a ticket and bring your bike onto the train.  Or, in some stations, you could roll your machine directly into the baggage car. Then, wherever you disembarked, you brought your ticket to the baggage counter--or retrieved your bike from the baggage car.  The only variable was cost:  It seemed to vary with the length of your train trip.


Of course, things have never been so felicitous here in the good ol' USA. Some local rail networks, like Metro North and the Long Island Rail Road here in New York, require that you purchase a pass ($5 when I got mine) good for all routes at all times.  If the train is crowded, the conductor might direct you to the rear of the train, or tell you to take a later train. 


 


But things are trickier on Amtrak:  The bike has to be boxed and checked as luggage.   If you want to ride to the station, you can buy a box there for $15.  You  have to remove your pedals and turn the handlebars parallel to the frame in order to fit it in the box.   Then you have to tape the box shut.  Your station may or may not have the necessary tape--and probably won't have the tools you need to prepare your bike.  And you aren't allowed to re-use a box.  If I were a tree, I'd protest!


The worst part, though, is that Amtrak regulations are wildly inconsistent.  ("Inconsistent regulations":  Is that an oxymoron?)  An operator at the railroad's customer service line might tell you it's possible to bring your bike to a particular station, but when you arrive, the clerk insists you can't bring your bike with you.   Or that clerk, or a conductor, might tell you bikes aren't allowed, period.  Perhaps most maddening of all, an operator might tell you it's possible to disembark with your bike at a particular station (usually a smaller one), but when the train pulls in, you find that you can't get your bike because there's no baggage handler in the station.


Now it seems that someone at Amtrak has realized that catering to bicycle tourists can be good business for them.  A few days ago, Amtrak spokesman Craig Schulz announced that by the end of this year, all long-distance lines will be equipped with baggage cars containing bicycle racks.


Looks like we might catch up to the Europeans, finally!