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.
In Back To The Future: Part II--released in 1989--Marty McFly (played by Michael J. Fox) travels to 21 October 2015 to save his children, who had yet to be born in the original Back To The Future, which was set and released in 1985.
Today, there are countless articles all over the Internet and print media that are scorecards of which predictions for this date came true, and which ones didn't. This post won't be one of them.
However, I want to mention something that everyone who saw any of the BTTF series recalls: the DeLorean motorcar that was turned into a time-travel machine.
Because DeLorean's company went bankrupt, production of those automobiles ceased two years before the film's release. About 9000 DMC-12s (the only model DeLorean ever produced) were made; as of 2007, about 6500 were believed to still exist.
A decade after the original BTTF, a Texas-based British industrialist named Steve Wynne started a separate company using the DeLorean name. It assembles new cars from New Old Stock (NOS) DeLorean parts in addition to Original Equipment Manufacturer (OEM) and reproduction parts on a "made to order" basis, using existing Vehicle Identification Number (VIN) plates.
That wasn't Wynne's only homage to DeLorean. Three years ago, he teamed up with Marc Moore, a DeLorean owner and passionate cyclist, to design a bicycle.
Since potential buyers of such a bike are DeLorean car owners, or anyone who liked their aesthetic, it comes as no surprise that the frames were made of stainless steel--by Sarto Antonio in Plangia, Italy--and had black components and accessories hung on them.
And so the DeLorean Bike was conceived. I don't know how many--or whether any at all--were ever made, besides prototypes. The DeLorean Bike website seems not to have been updated in some time, and for ordering (not that I plan on doing so), it simply says to call or e-mailing them for pricing or other information.
I'm wondering what's inside that thing on the down tube. A Tesla coil, perhaps?
The weather warmed up a bit today, but it was still pretty blustery. Still, this day felt very October-like, in contrast to the last three days, which felt more like Thanksgiving weekend. Not that I mind cool or chilly weather; it just seemed to follow me from Canada after the mild weather this part of the world was experiencing as I embarked. Anyway, this afternoon I had some time to sneak out for a Coney Island ride, and to return home via the path that passes under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge--about 65 kilometers all told.
One sign that it's really Fall is that the boardwalk was not full of the strollers, sunbathers and such one sees even on weekdays for a few weeks after Labor Day. But, more important, the light and air take on different hues and feels around the time of the Equinox.
Is it my imagination, but has the Parachute Jump taken on the color of fallen leaves? A few weeks ago, it seemed more like a reddish-orange. Hmm...Could I be imposing my ideas of the season on things I see? Is life imitating the season?
Whatever, Tosca seemed to be enjoying it as much as I did. Even though I didn't have a lower gear to shift into when I was pedaling into the wind, I didn't feel as if I had been straining. In fact, riding today seemed like a shorter version of my ride the other day, albeit with different scenery. Maybe it has something to do with the way I respond to the light and air of this time of year.
On the Coney Island Boardwalk, this sign has a way of popping up where you've never seen it before, after you haven't seen it for a long time. I would have expected to see it during the height of the summer season. As a matter of fact, a couple of times when I rode on the boardwalk during the summer, police officers motioned for me to get off my bike. But today there were no cops in sight. Still, I didn't ride along the boarwalk: I had just a bit more than enough time to ride to Coney and back. But it was plenty.
Whenever I ride my Mercians, I find that I've actually ridden faster than I thought I was riding and, even when riding on rough stretches or climbing into the wind, I don't feel beat-up or worn-down at the end. This is particulary true of Arielle, my Mercian Audax.
It's a bike meant for longer rides, hence the model name. With such a purpose in mind, the bike is designed with a somewhat longer wheelbase and slightly shallower angles than a dedicated racing bike. On the other hand, its geometry is tighter than that of a full-load touring bike or even many randonneur bikes. It also has, according to my specification, a shorter top tube than is typically found on touring (and even some racing) frames in Arielle's size (56 cm center-to-center) to accomodate the rather long legs and short torso I have for a person of my height.
When I was ordering Arielle--the first Mercian I bought--I was going to specify 16mm diameter seat stays. At the time, Mercian was still offering 12mm on some models, including the Audax. Hal Ruzal at Bicycle Habitat talked me into going with the 12mm, in part because that's what he has on one of his Mercians, which is very similar to Arielle.
I'm glad he did. Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear, has 16mm stays. It feels stiffer, but that may have to do with the geometry of the bike rather than the stay diameter. Arielle, however, never felt flexy or noodly to me. Yet those 12mm stays, I believe, absorb more road shock than the thicker stays, which--I'm guessing--is the reason why I never feel "beat up" after riding her.
I also am glad Hal--and the folks at Mercian--convinced me to buy an Audax rather than one of the other models. I didn't want a full-on touring bike: If I ever do another multi-day tour, it will probably be with a light load. On the other hand, I didn't want another racing-specific bike: I'd owned and ridden a number of those and felt as if I were past being even a "wannabe", let alone an actual racer.
On this bike, I can ride fast when I want to, but--more important to me at this point in my life--I can simply enjoy the ride. It has never felt like a "compromise": It's simply a bike that fits well and feels good.
Because Arielle fits and rides so well, specifying my next two custom Mercians--Tosca, my fixed-gear and Helene, one of my Miss Mercians--easy. Tosca's geometry is just a bit tighter; Helene's dimensions were tweaked to allow wider tires and fenders.
Vera, my other Miss Mercian, is the only one of my Mercians that wasn't custom-built for me: I bought it second-hand. So, while its fit is a bit different from that of the others (the imaginary top tube length is 15mm longer than on Arielle or Helene and 10 mm longer than on Tosca, and the chain stays are about 15 mm longer than the ones on Helene), my experience with my other Mercians served as a good guideline in helping me choose the right stem length and such. Overall, it has the cushiest ride of my "Mercs" and, not surprisingly, Tosca has the stiffest and most responsive.
All of them feel great, but, as the saying goes, there's nothing like the first. And mine (at least in terms of my Mercians) is Arielle.
Last week, during my trip to Montreal, I wrote about (among other things) the autumn light and air. Well, today had a particularly autumnal feel--at least in part because the weather was colder than it's been in six months or so. When I was talking to my mother a little while ago, I joked that I brought the cold, and the season, back with me because I knew I wouldn't have any trouble getting them through US Customs! Anyway, on a day so typical of this season, thoughts turn to foliage and red barns and such. Well, the leaves are starting to turn brightly in local parks and fallen leaves stream along the curbs. But there aren't a whole lot of red barns in this city. However, in some neighborhoods--including my own--there are houses that provide a rather nice backdrop for the blaze of colors.
But I also figured that if I went a little north of the city, the colors would be even brighter and there would be an even better stage for them. And Arielle, my Mercian Audax, was just begging to be ridden. And I wanted to ride her. The bike I rented in Montreal was actually pretty nice, but it still makes me appreciate Arielle--and my other Mercians--even more than I had before.
So, after pumping her tires and filling a water bottle, we were off to--you guessed it--Connecticut. It was just past noon when I started riding, and I knew that it's starting to get dark around 6pm now. Still, I figured, it would give me enough time to ride there, take in some autumn light and air in the Nutmeg State, and get home before dark. Although I have lights, there are a couple of parts of the route I prefer not to ride in the dark.
I was riding against of the wind most of the way back--which meant, of course, that I was riding with it most of the way back. The funny thing was that I didn't feel I was pedaling particularly hard on the way up, in spite of the wind that, at times, gusted to 35 KPH. And I didn't think I was pedaling particularly fast on the way back. Yet I made it back before sunset. Really, I can't ask for more of a Sunday afternoon ride in the middle of October.
When I got home, I felt invigorated, as I do after a good ride, but not tired. I often feel that way after long rides on my Mercians, but especially Arielle. Tomorrow, or some other time in the near future, I'll write about a possible reason.
Tourists ride "pedi cabs" and "bicycle taxis" in cities all over the world. People spin pedals in boats that are shaped like Disney characters and almost everything else imaginable. Pizzas are delivered in contraptions that are part-bike, part-cart. And cyclist Bryan Allen pedaled a gossamer across the English Channel in 1979.
It seems that pedal power has been used to propel humans and objects across time and space ever in just about every way imaginable. (Cycling to Mars, anyone?) So, it's a bit surprising that more people haven't thought about other ways of using the energy people generate when they spin their feet.
An organization called Maya Pedal has been doing just that. Founded in 1997 as a collaboration between Guatemalan bicycle mechanic Carlos Marroquin and Canadian organization, Maya Pedal has created several "bicimaquinas" fashioned from various combinations of used bicycles and parts, wood, concrete and metal. Each machine is handcrafted, unique and costs about $40.
One example is this bicycle mill, fitted to a hand-powered grinding mill or corn thresher. It can grind three pounds of any type of grain--typically yellow maize (corn), soybeans or coffee--per minute.
Another bicimaquina looks like a stationary bicycle with a blender above its front wheel. Actually, that's what it is. But, attached to the wheel is a rotor that substitutes for the electric motor found in the blenders most Americans use. The faster you pedal, the faster the mixer blade--which can attain speeds of 6400 RPM--spins.
Other Bicimaquinas include water pumps, coffee depulpers, generators, washing machines and even juicers nut shellers. That last has proved a real boon to a women's cooperative that makes peanut butter near Sololá . "Shelling the peanuts used to be the most labor intensive part of the business," says Maya Pedal coordinator Johanna Mesa Montuba. "Now they just load them up in the machine and it takes a quarter of the time." And the juicers, she says, are convenient because the women can take them to soccer games and other public events, where they can sell fresh juice.
Bicimaquinas have become popular in the Guatemalan countryside because they are cheap and easy to maintain: no small consideration in remote areas where supplies are difficult to find and bring in. And, if someone can't pay the full price of the machine up front, Maya Pedal will allow that person to purchase it in installments. This is a real help to those, especially women, who want to start their own small businesses but have little or no money.
Really, what better way is there to use old bikes and parts? And to think that I used to be so proud of myself for building "parts bin bikes"!
