The Fourth

In France, they have le quatorze.  Here in the US of A, we have The Fourth.

It's what we call our Independence Day.  Today, though, when I hear "the Fourth", I can't help but to think of the Amendment--which, like so much else in the Constitution, is in peril.

But The Fourth is also my birthday.  And this year it just happens to be a round-number year for me.  I'll let you guess which one! 

For the occasion, I gave myself a gift--which actually came to me all the way back in March.  I am referring, of course, to Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special.


You could say, though, that I got an unexpected gift when the bike I mentioned yesterday--a 1973 Mercian King of Mercia--showed up on eBay.  In my size.  And the seller dropped the price.

And I'm going to meet friends.  I am lucky indeed.  Now, to do something about my country!

I Could Blame Them....For This!

Blame Phillip Cowan.  And Coline.  And Leo.

I swear, they nudged me into it.  Yes, even though Phillip is in another part of my country--and Coline and Leo are in faraway foreign lands--they completely short-circuited my self-discipline.  Really, they did.  You know, they used powers that, in most circumstances, I deny believing in (sort of like a lot of conspiracy theories).  In the end, I simply couldn't stick to a promise I made myself.

And I've waited a couple of weeks to tell you about it, dear readers, because, well, I don't want to show how weak and vulnerable and suggestible I am.  I know, I don't have to pretend to be a Gary Cooper-type macho-guy anymore. (As if I ever did!)  Even when I end up loving what I'm pushed or cajoled into doing, it pains me to admit it!

So what am I talking about?  First, I'll mention the promise I made:  After Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special came into my life, I swore I wasn't going to buy another bike.  Of course, we all know that such a pledge from a bike enthusiast is about as credible as anything a politician says when running for office.

And into what trepidation and turpitude did this ruptured oath lead me?  Well, instead of describing it, I'll show you the evidence of it:

Yes, I bought the Mercian-painted-like-a-Motobecane I sort of mocked in a post last month.  Really, if Phillip, Coline and Leo hadn't egged me on in their comments, I never, ever would have done such a thing.

Riiiiight, you say.  You believe that like you believe a single bullet killed JFK--or anything in the 9/11 Commission Report.

All right, I'll admit it:  I wanted that bike.  These days, I shy away from bikes in any combination of black and red because it's so common on new bikes--and done with none of the style of those old Motobecanes. Or this Mercian.

I finally bought the bike two weeks after that post, after the price dropped a couple of times. So what did I get?

Well, it's a King of Mercia built with Reynolds 531 throughout (of course) in 1973.  Somewhere along the way, it was repainted (originally, it was all red), which is why the Reynolds 531 decals aren't from that period.

But almost everything else on the bike is:  Check out the 1973 Campagnolo Nuovo Record gruppo.  I love the crank and large flange hubs--with the old-style flat-lever skewers.  And the shifters--with Campy lever covers!

Then there's--what else?--a Brooks Professional saddle.  And the Cinelli bars and stem.  The only non-period parts are the rims, spokes, tires, freewheel and chain.  

I am guessing that the bike originally had sew-up tires and rims, and someone rebuilt those wheels with Mavic Open Pro rims and DT spokes.  Of course, Mavic OP is my go-to rim for high-end wheels, and in silver it looks like a classic rim.  Hey, the wheels even have 36 spokes.  The bike was shipped with cheapo tires, one of which was worn.  I replaced them with Continental Grand Prix 4 Season tires--another favorite.

I also would imagine that the drivetrain originally included a Regina freewheel and chain, which were standard on Campagnolo-equipped machines. (Some Italian bikes came with Caimi/Everest.)  The freewheel I received, however, was a SunTour ProCompe and a chain whose provenance I couldn't determine.  That wasn't a problem:  I replaced them with a SunTour New Winner freewheel (5 speed, 13-26) and a Sedisport chain.  I replaced the two small cogs on the ProCompe and will most likely use it on my Trek.

I've ridden the bike only twice, and am astounded at how similar it is to Dee-Lilah:  very quick, smooth and stable.  The only other change I plan on making is a stem (Cinelli, of course) with a slightly longer extension--and to replace the Cycle Pro toe clips (pockmarked with rust) with a pair of Christophes.  

The bike was shipped to Bicycle Habitat, and Hal assembled it.  Of course, he took it for a ride.  When he called to tell me the bike was ready, he exclaimed, "You're really gonna like it!"  He's right.

I'm so lucky:  Dee-Lilah, and now this bike!  But they are going to have different roles:  Dee-Lilah is a modern/classic or classic/modern bike, depending on how you look at it (Reynolds 853 tubing with fancy lugs, traditionally constructed, kitted with modern components--and a Brooks Pro.)  On the other hand, if I do L'eroica--or any other event for vintage bikes--you know what I'll ride.

(P.S.  I have a handlebar bottle cage which I believe to be a Specialites TA.  If it isn't, it sure looks like one.  I might put it on this bike--if I can find some clamps for it.)

A Mission To Be Seen

Bicycles with integrated lighting systems are usually associated with touring bikes and randonneuses from the constructeurs and, to a lesser degree, high-end builders in other countries.  A few production bikes have been supplied with generators built into a bike, or more commonly, a hub, and lights built onto racks and fenders, if not the frame itself.  

Such bikes usually have wires routed into the fenders or racks so they are not only not visible, but not vulnerable to being snagged and snapped.  A few bikes have wiring built into the frame itself.

While it's nice to have lights built into a bike that's frequently ridden in the dark, they are vulnerable to theft if the bike is frequently parked on the street, particularly in the same spot.  Also, light technology has improved dramatically (though, I admit, I prefer the styling of old lights) and a built-in system might tie its rider to an inferior technology.

The latest technology in bike lights, and lighting generally, is Light Emitting Diodes (LED).  This makes smaller, sleeker and lighter (in weight as well as luminosity) units that can fit more easily on different parts of the bike.  They are as much an advance as halogen lights were when they appeared about 35 years ago and displaced the incandescent bulbs that had been in use almost since their invention. (A few lights were made with fluorescent bulbs, but the idea never caught on because they're not good at throwing a beam forward, even through a lens with the best of optics.)

Apparently, someone out in San Francisco wanted a built-in lighting system with the advantages of LEDs.  The result is that Misssion Bicycles, a local company, has just introduced a bike with LEDs built into the inside each fork blade and on the rear of the seatpost.  They are powered by a rechargable battery inside the headset that can be turned on by a cap on the stem.  Thus, the bike shares one characteristic of those custom bikes with integral lights:  wires that run through the frame.

Such a system, to me, makes sense on a bike used for commuting in an urban area.  The lights wouldn't do much to help a rider see the roadway ahead, but they will help him or her be seen in traffic--which I know, from experience, is far more useful for night riding on city streets.  And they would be more difficult to steal than other kinds of lights when the bike is parked.  The one downside I can see is that if the lights need to be replaced and a new technology displaces LEDs.

An Egg-Strodinary Ride!

Back in the day, I rode with the Central Jersey Bicycle Club.  During the winter, one of CJBC's Sunday rides involved pedaling about 20 miles to a rural fire station and joining the firefighters, as well as what seemed to be everybody in the village, for an "all you can eat" breakfast.

A popular platter was the "Fireman's Special", which included a couple of pancakes; a couple of pieces of bacon, sausage or some other unhealthy meat; a couple of eggs in whatever style you prefer; and, it seemed, whatever else would fit on that plate.

The food wasn't the greatest, but when you're riding on a cold morning, you tend not to be picky. (Also, it was dirt-cheap:  no small consideration when you're a poor college student, as I was!) Besides, the point of the ride seemed to be, more than anything, camaraderie, with CJBC riders, the people of that village, the firefighters and anyone else who got up early on a cold Sunday morning.

Since then, I've gone on other rides that have included breakfasts, weekend brunches, lunches or other meals.  Sometimes, I'm sure, the food actually was good; other times, I was hungry or simply enjoying my time riding and the company of others.  I can guarantee you, though, that no ride of mine ever included food like this:

A Contest After My Own Heart: Bicycles And Art

I'll admit:  This post is little more than an excuse to display an image I like.

Is this how Van Gogh would have painted a bicycle?

Whatever the intent of the artist, it's great for promoting a bicycle-themed art contest.  (Well, it got my attention, anyway!)  "The Bicycle:  Art Meets Form" is an invitational juried show sponsored by the Theatre Art Galleries in conjunction with the High Point Cycling Classic.  Winning works will be exhibited from 30 August until 28 September.

If you're interested in entering, you have until 25 July.  For more information, go to http://tagart.org/.

Good luck!