What Have We Here? I'm Starting To Find Out

I haven't started to work on my estate-sale find yet.  I have, however begun to rummage through some components I have on hand and order a buy a few things (small parts) I need.

I did, however, begin to do a little research.  According to the serial number on the frame, and the information I found on the Vintage Trek website, my bike is probably a 1982 model.  The serial number pattern fits in with 400 series bikes made from 1980 to 1982, but the presence of a color band on the seat tube points to 1982.  On the other hand, the 412 pictured in the 1982 brochure has brazed-on brake cable guides and water bottle bosses, which my bike does not have.  Perhaps it's a 1981.5 model:  According to the VT website, the highest-priced Treks (Pro and 900 series), started to come with such bands in 1981. (The white bikes with blue panels are particularly nice, to my eye.) That feature "trickled down" to the 700 series bikes in the middle of that year (1981.5).  The 1982 brochures show 500 and 400 series models with it but, according to the website, some of those models came with color bands in late 1981.  

(Mercians, at least those made after 1970, are easier to track:  I had no trouble finding out Vera was made in 1994, as her original owner told me.  And, of course, I know that Arielle, Tosca and Helene are from 2006, 2007 and 2010, resepctively, because I had them custom-made in those years.

OK, so now I know the bike's origins, more or less.  Now I'm starting to learn a bit about the bike's quirks, aside from the ones I've already mentioned.  Actually, it's not a terribly quirky bike, from what I can see:  Threadings and other dimensions are standard, and in design it's much like other bikes of its type made around the same time, though perhaps somewhat better.

One quirk I found is in the componentry:  specifically, the Sakae crankset.  I know that some cranksets of that time were made with the 110 BCD chainring pattern, which is common today--and of which I have a few chainrings on hand.  I was hoping that the SR crankset--which looks rather nice--shared it.

Alas!  If you ever wonder what difference a few millimeters can make, you can see it here.  The black ring that I superimposed on the crank is a 110 made by Stronglight; the rings on the crankset have a slightly bigger bolt circle.  From the measurements I made, and Sheldon Brown's "crib sheet", it seems that the crank has the now-obsolete 118 BCD.  That means, of course, that I could find replacement chainrings only through swap meets and,  with luck, on eBay.

(My surprise is, I'm sure, mild compared to the frustration an owner of a Nervar Star crankset might feel:  Its 128 BCD, as close as it is to the 130 BCD of modern road racing cranks, still precludes interchangeability!) 

The rings on the bike don't seem to have much wear, so I think I'll keep them on for now:  They, and the crankset, look pretty nice.  (From what I can see, the arms are forged.)  The 52 tooth outer ring, standard for the era when the bike was made, is bigger than anything I ride now.  On the other hand, I am using 12 tooth rear cogs with my 46 and 48 tooth chainrings  (and a 17 with the 47 tooth ring on Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear):  something that didn't exist at the time the bike was made.  Then, most cyclists rode with freewheels on which the smallest cog had 14 teeth, which is what orignally came with the bike; racers sometimes used 13 tooth cogs.  If I use a freewheel with a 14 tooth cog, my highest gear will still be slightly lower than those of Arielle, Helene and Vera, my geared Mercians.  (Arielle, the road bike, has 48X12, while Helene and Vera have 46X12.)

One thing I have to say about the crank:  The bottom bracket--which, I believe, is the original--turns very smoothly.  I think someone recently overhauled it; still, I might take it apart if, for no other reason, to be sure that it has an intact protector sleeve.

Speaking of smooth bearings:  The headset feels good, but I might clean it anyway, just because I don't know when I'll do it again.  And I have a rear hub that I'm thinking of using.  The Phil that came with the bike is great, but it's 48 hole, and the rim it's laced to is 27 inches--which I'm not going to use, since I don't have a 27 inch front (The one that came with the bike wasn't salvageable.) rim, wheel or tire, and don't want to buy new ones.  The hub I have is pretty nice, though not quite as good as the Phil.

This is going to be an interesting project.  I'll probably start working on it in a couple of weeks, after classes have ended.

She's Gone To A Farm, And We've Gone To Connecticut

In response to yesterday's "postcard" from Helene, "MT Cyclist" asked whether I've told my other bikes that Helene is now on a farm.

Actually, I've told all of my bikes except Vera, who has been in transit and arrived at the Mercian workshop today.  I sense she might be a bit stressed from the trip.  In addition, she's going to undergo a bit of surgery in addition to her facelift, so I don't want to burden her any further.

Of my other bikes, Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear, seems rather nonplussed.  But I sense Arielle, my Mercian Audax, and the Trek I've been working on for the past few months (and have yet to name) are a bit more envious.  After all, they're made for longer rides and like the outdoors.  Moreover, I am trying to reassure Arielle that I will continue to ride her once I receieve the Vincitore Special I've ordered.

Today was the perfect opportunity for the latter.  It was warm, but not unusually so for this time of year.  And the humidity nothing like what I sweltered in as I rode the other day.  Plus, the clouds that muted this morning's sunshine broke up as I rode north and east from my apartment to...you guessed it...Connecticut.

Although I had the wind at my back most of the way up, pedaling against it on my way back wasn't noticeably more difficult, at least until I reached East Tremont Avenue in the Bronx, about ten kilometers from my apartment.  I found that odd because the Bronx becomes more densely built, more like Manhattan, from that point southward.  

Still, I wasn't feeling tired, even though I pedaled the entire ride on my larger chainring and shifted into lower gears than the ones in the middle of my cassette only when I pedaled up the ridge into Connecticut from New York State.

After a ride like the one I took today, there will certainly be more for Arielle--and the other bikes I have and the ones that I will have.  And, I'm sure there will be some great rides for Helene--yes, from the farm.

Shifting Gear

If you've been following this blog for the past couple of weeks or so, you may have noticed some ever-so-subtle changes to my bikes.  I have documented how Arielle traded a triple crankset for a Sugino Alpina double. Well, I've also installed an Alpina double, albeit with different chainrings, on Helene.


And you may also see that I have Carradice Barley bags on all three of my Mercians. (Tosca, as well as Arielle and Helene.)  I think I may just leave them on the bikes, as it will make it easier to carry my camera, notebook and an extra layer of clothing, if I need it.  I can also pick up some goodie or another in a bakery or flea market en route!  So, the Bike Burritos I had been using are inside the pockets of the Barleys.  I liked the way the Burritos looked on the bikes, but they also serve nicely to keep my tools and tubes organized and separate from whatever else I put in my bags.


Finally, there is this change I made on Helene:

I purchased a pair of shifter pods from Velo Orange. They function in the same way as the ones Paul Components makes.  However, VO's cost a good bit less and fit a wider variety of handlebars.  The VO Porteur bars on this bike are of the same diameter as road bike bars. (Most flat and upright bars are the same diameter as mountain bike bars, which are of a smaller diameter.)  


The problem with Paul's--and many other thumb shifter mounts--is that they will fit one type of bar of the other.  But the ones made for road-bike bars will fit only on the "sleeve" of the bar, which is the section nearest the stem clamp.  That "sleeve" is a wider diameter than the "body" of the handlebar. 


Of course, one probably could put a shim or tape underneath  a Paul clamp.  But who wants to do that after spending 75 dollars for the pod?


The VO pod has a hinged clamp instead of the solid clamp found on the Paul pods.  That, of course, allows for greater adjustability.  Plus, VO supplies the pods with some nicely-machined aluminum shims.  And, for those of you who care, the VO pods are silver, while Paul's are black. 


The pods are made to be used with Dia Compe Silver downtube shifters, which is what I had been using before I bought the pods.  I happen to like the lever very much, so I was happy to keep it.  I was able to mount the shifters so that I could reach them as I was holding the straight part of the bar, which is where the brake levers are located.  As I have them mounted, I can actuate the brakes with two fingers and the shifter with one.


As much as I like the position,  I'm still getting used to the shifting.  A basic rule of thumb is:  The longer your cable, the slower, less precise and less crisp your shifting.  That is one reason why you just about need either a ratchet mechanism (like those on the Silver levers, or the old Sun Tours), a retro-friction mechanism (as used on the Simplex "teardrop" levers) or an indexed mechanism (as found on Ergo and STI levers) if you're using a handlebar-mounted shifter. 


I think that I should be accustomed to this setup fairly soon.  After all, I once had a bike with Sun Tour shifters that mounted on top of the bars.  After a while, I found the shifting just as predictable, if not as quick, as on my bike with downtube shifters.


And, oh, yeah, the bright pink Cinelli tape. Turns out, the gray tape I had on the bars wasn't long enough once I installed the new shifters.  

More on Helene's Changes

Now that I've given away the floral chainguard, I've decided I'm going to add a chainring and front derailleur to Helene.  She'll end up with more gearing than we'll probably need, but I always like to know that my bikes have a couple of gears that I "don't really need."


If that sounds strange...well, I guess it is.  But a lower-than-I'll-need-99 % -of -the-time gear is a bit like having a life jacket on a boat:  You hope not to use it, but it's better there than not.  It also gives me a sense of pride over having made it up a hill or through a headwind without having to resort to my "bail out" gear.


But I'm only going to add one chainring.  I don't anticipate that Helene will be my long-distance bike, so I don't think a triple is warranted.  

I'm glad now that I ordered the frame with both down-tube braze-ons, especially as I plan to use down tube shifters.  I'm going to use a pair of Dia Compe silver shifters:  the same ones that shift Arielle's gears.  

A Tale Of Two Pedals (A Review Of Two Products)

It's the best design; it's an old design.

All right, now that I've got Dickens spinning in his grave, I'm going to tell you about two pedals that, in most ways, are very similar.

The designs of both pedals' bodies are based, to a large degree, on that of the Lyotard Berthet #23, one of the most popular pedals in the history of cycling.

Both have long, curved "tongues" that allow for easy entry and exit from toe clips and straps.

The "tongues" of both pedals lead to relatively wide flat surfaces that nonetheless allow for good grip with a wide variety of shoes.

Both pedals have sealed cartridge bearings that spin smoothly and require little, if any, maintenance.  

Both are available in either silver or black.

A pair of either pedal weighs approximately the same:  300 grams, give or take.

I have ridden one of the pedals in question for nearly two years, while the others have been part of my daily commute for almost two months.

So, you want to know, what pedals am I talking about?

Well, the ones I've been riding for nearly two years are the White Industries Urban Platform pedal.  The pedals I've been using on my rides to and from work are made by Mikashima (MKS) and are called--you guessed it--the Urban Platform pedal.

In one of my earliest posts, I wrote about the White Industries pedals.  In the nearly two years since I wrote that post, I've scarcely thought about them at all.  They run smoothly, are comfortable on long rides and, so far, I haven't had to clean, much less overhaul, them.  Plus, the ones on Tosca (my Mercian fixie) and Arielle (my Mercian road bike) seem not to have been affected, at least functionally, by bumps, scrapes and a couple of tumbles.

The pair pictured in that post went on Arielle.  Subsequent pairs found their way onto Tosca and Helene (my custom Miss Mercian) in that order.  The pedal in this photo is on Helene:

White Indstries Urban Pedal

The WI pedals on Arielle and Helene are silver; the ones on Tosca are black.  While I liked the look of the black ones in the beginning (especially in how it offset the brass dustcap), I wouldn't buy them in black today, as the ones I have scuffed and scratched.  The silver ones don't show such wear.

All in all, the White Industries pedals are among the finest components I have ever used.  In their design and quality of materials and workmanship, they are (I believe) in the same class as Chris King headsets, Phil Wood hubs and bottom brackets, Mavic Open Pro rims and Nitto handlebars, stems and seatposts--all of which I have used for years.

MKS Urban Platform Pedal

Now, I can't speak for the durability my the MKS Urban Platform pedals, which I've been riding on Vera, the 1994 Mercian mixte I purchased last year.  However, if they are anything like other MKS pedals I've used, they should provide me many years and miles of service--barring an accident, of course.

While the basic form of the MKS pedal is much like that of its White Industries counterpart, there are some subtle differences.  There are more pronounced "ridges" on the MKS pedal, which one would expect to provide somewhat better grip.  However, I haven't noticed any real difference in that area between the two pedals.

Also, on the WI pedal, the transition from the pedal body to the toeclip is smooth and flat.  In contrast, the toe clip mounts slightly below the edge of the MKS Urban pedal, as it does on the GR-9, the other platform pedal MKS makes.  I did not feel any discomfort as a result of it; then again, I have been used WI pedals on longer rides, and for a longer period of time, than I've used the MKS Urban.

The platform width of both pedals is about the same, and each is slightly wider than the Berthet and significantly wider than the GR-9.

Another difference is between the two pedals is that the MKS Urban has a one-piece cast body, while the platform of the WI is attached to a precision stainless-steel spindle with sealed bearings.  What that means, in terms of aesthetics, is that while the two pedals look very similar from above, the MKS Urban looks more like the GR-9 from below, while the WI looks a bit more like the Berthet.  What that means in terms of function, I don't know:  They work in similar ways, and seem to have the same amount of ground clearance.  

Underside of White Industries Urban Pedal

Perhaps the clearest difference between the pedals, apart from their appearance, is price:  My MKS Urbans cost about half of what I paid for each pair of WI pedals I now ride.  I got what was probably the lowest price available on my WIs from Universal Cycles of Portland, OR; coupons brought the price down even further.  I purchased my MKS Urbans from Bell's Bike Shop of Philadelphia, which sells on eBay. 

Underside of MKS Urban Platform Peal

As happy as I am with my White Industries pedals, I might not have bought them had I known about the MKS Urban pedals, or had I not found the deals I got.  Or, perhaps, I would have bought them for one, or possibly two, of my bikes.  That is not to say, of course, that you shouldn't buy WI pedals, especially if you truly appreciate fine design and workmanship and/or can score a good deal.  But for half of the price of the White Industries Urban pedal, you can get the MKS Urban Platform, which, in my estimation, is about 95 percent as good.

Smooth Sailing

On a hot day, one of the best ways to end a bike ride is with a boat ride.  That I did today on the Staten Island Ferry, after a ride on Helene that took me up the Bronx cliffs, across Manhattan, down the New Jersey Palisades into Hoboken, Jersey City and Bayonne, then, finally, over the bridge into Staten Island.


One of the nice things about riding on a hot day with low humidity, as I did today, is that the weather isn't nearly as oppressive as it is with high humidity.  On the other hand, if you're like me, you drink anything and everything in sight.  Still, I think I got to the Ferry less fatigued than these guys:

Helene is in front; the bikes behind her were ridden by the two recliners.  At least nobody can be accused of reading over this guy's shoulder!:

As befitting a high-class English lady with some French culture, Helene was her usual modest self:

With her, the ride was definitely smooth sailing:

Another "Postcard" From Helene

Helene promised to keep me tell me about her adventures in her new home.  She's definitely a lady of her word:

Hi Justine

I thought I would take this chance to dictate an update on life in my new home. Here I am out in the pale sunshine. It is nothing like as warm as it was when I was with you and here June has been the wettest since records began! 

Lots of people have been staying here with us and coming out to look at me, the last one was called Karin from Germany who was sad that I still have parts missing and hoped that when she next visits she can take me for a ride. She is over seventy which I am told is not too old in human years and still likes to take ten day trips by bike with friends in Germany and with her cousin in the US.

As you can see I have borrowed some wheels and have my own Brooks saddle which is still high waiting for the chainset to be able to set a final height. My Ms tress was silly when she got my new happy stem and forgot to get the spacers to let me grip the bars properly. She did get a leather tube protector to match the bars and saddle to protect my top tube from scratches this needs to be carefully sewn on. What is money? Ms tress keeps muttering about having bought money from visitors who had the wrong kind of money so does not have real money at moment. She says that money lets her get parts for me. I thought that you just brought them home as presents…

I really need some gear levers, the only ones in a box here are on a clip which would scratch my lovely paintwork. I have been promised more than seven sprockets at the back when I get my own wheels later in the summer and the levers might not work with them. I am so glad that it is not me who has to do all the planning and choosing. I hope my new bottom bracket goes on this week now that we have the fancy tool to fix me. Ms tress seems to be getting ready for even more visitors and doing work round the garden but promises to devote herself to me once they are gone.

Say hi to Max and Marlee, I am sure that they miss me.

Love Justine Helene Mercia xx

One Person's Trash Is Another Person's...Honjo? LeFol?

I used to know people who never bought furniture or electronic equipment:  They furnished their rooms, apartments or even houses—and made music, phone calls, designs and algorithms—with stuff people left curbside for sanitation workers to pick up.  I still know someone, a musician and bike mechanic (If he’s reading this, he knows who he is!), who has never purchased a power tool or even a vacuum cleaner:  He has refurbished stuff other people discarded.  He even owns a couple of bikes acquired that way. I, too, have had such bikes in my life.

Maybe it’s because most of my acquaintances and I are well into middle age that I no longer hear of people filling their living spaces with beds, couches or even desks or cupboards other people no longer wanted or needed.  Perhaps young people are still doing such things and I just need to make younger friends.  Or it may be that concerns over bedbugs and contagious diseases have stopped people from constructing their living spaces from the flotsam of other people’s lives.

I admit it’s been a while since I’ve done anything like that.  In fact, when I see piles of furniture and books, or bags of clothes or concatenations of toasters, blenders, food processors, microwave ovens, stereo equipment, light fixtures and framed prints relegated to the edge of the gutter at the beginning or end of a month (when people move out), I almost never stop even to take a look.  For now, I don’t want any living being besides Max or Marley to take up residence in my apartment unless he or she is helping me to pay the rent or is a partner in a recreational (not procreational!) activity with me.

The other day, I rode by an apartment full of stuff without the apartment abandoned in front of a recently-built waterfront condo building on Kent Avenue in Williamsburg.  I wouldn’t be writing about it if I hadn’t noticed something from the corner of my eye and checked it out.

It’s not every day that someone leaves behind a pair of hammered aluminum fenders with a randonneur-style rack. It would be serendipitous (Is that an actual word?) enough if they were from Velo Orange.  But I knew, as soon as I picked them up that at least the fenders aren’t.  

The pattern on them consists of hexagons that are more sharply defined than the polygons on the VO fenders:

I doubted then, as I do now, that they’re original LeFol or other vintage French fenders.  But could they be Honjos?  The pattern matches.  And, even more interestingly, they are 43 mm wide, the same as Honjos, whereas my VOs are 45 mm.  (VO also makes 35mm hammered fenders.) 

But I didn’t see any sort of markers to indicate their provenance.  I’ve seen a couple of pairs of Honjos before, but I can’t recall whether they had any decals or emblems on them.  I also don’t know whether some other company is making fenders that look so much like Honjos.  It’s not inconceivable:  After all, how could Honjo claim a patent infringement when its own fenders replicate 50- or 60-year-old French designs?

Anyway, the fenders are in excellent shape.  There’s a little bit of dirt on the underside, which shows they were ridden, but not much.  There are a couple of indentations where the fenders were fitted between fork blades or seat stays.  They were drilled for some frame that had threaded fitments in the fork crown and underneath the seatstay bridge, as Helene (my newer Miss Mercian) has.  The holes don’t seem gouged or otherwise enlarged and have no cracks or other stresses around them. So, if I wanted to use the fenders on Helene, fitting the front should be no problem, but the hole in the rear might not line up with the fitting on the rear bridge. 

Of course, I could plug that hole and use the fender with a bracket—on Helene or Vera.  But the rack is not meant to be used with panniers or loads of more than a couple of kilos—both of which I sometimes carry on Vera.

Before I try anything, I want to ascertain that these fenders are actually from Honjo (or LeFol?!) and not some knock-offs that would be a downgrade, quality-wise, from my Velo Orange fenders.  

Vera's And Helene's Cousin?

And here I was, thinking that I rode the only Mercians with Velo Orange Porteur handlebars in New York City.

On my way home, I wandered, as I often do, through Greenpoint, Brooklyn.  It's just across the Pulaski Bridge from Long Island City, Queens--which, in turn, is just upstream (on the East River) from Astoria, where I live.

I was spinning the gears on Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear, on Greenpoint Avenue, one of the neighborhood's main throughfares.  (I won't use the word "drag" because I don't want to create unintended connotations!)  Out of the corner of my eye, I tawt I taw, not a puddy tat, but an interesting bike.

My instincts proved correct.  Indeed, parked on the street was a Mercian.  Of course, I will find a bike interesting just because it's a Mercian, but this one--in spite of its classic panel scheme--would prove to be unique.

I wish a car weren't parked right next to it and that I had something more suited to close-range photography than my cell phone. I did the best I could by squeezing myself between the car and bike and doing my best imitation of Gumby.  At least I captured, I think, something of the bike's look, with its pewter-gray paint and its creme anglaise-coloured panels.  

The grips, I think, made those Porteur bars look like they belonged on the bike.  If I were building it, I would have gone with a honey or brown Brooks saddle, though I don't think the black seat looks bad.  I'm guessing that whoever put the bike together had that saddle on hand, possibly from another bike he or she had ridden.

One nice thing about the bike was that it looks as if it wasn't put together merely for looks or style.  For one thing, it is a Mercian, so it is built for a nice ride. (Why do you think I own four of them?)  The frame is constructed of a Reynolds 531 "Super Tube" set.  Reynolds 531, like other top-quality bicycle tubing, was made in different thicknesses.  The "Super Tube" sets combined different thicknesses. I suspect that, as the frame is a small size, lighter tubes were used on the top tube and possibly the seat tube. The components are all first-rate:  mainly Shimano, including Dura Ace hubs and rear derailleur. 

I was tempted to leave a note on the bike, in the hopes that its owner would contact me.  That is a risky thing to do here in New York (and, I suspect, in many other places).  So all I can do is hope that the bike's owner sees this post and contacts me.  I would love to know more about the bike--and, possibly, whoever rides it.  Perhaps he or she would like to meet Vera or Helene, my Mercian mixtes with Velo Orange Porteur bars!

Bridges, Islands, Art, History, A Canal And Smoked Beef

Two days of cycling in Montreal and no one has beeped a horn in anger or aggression at me.  And no driver has cursed at me.  (Yes, I know when I'm being cursed at in French!)  And, where bike lanes cross into traffic, drivers actually stop for cyclists, even when there's no sign or signal telling them to do so.  

I guess all of this is remarkable to me because I've cycled so long in New York.  What's most telling to me, though, is that most Montreal drivers have no more experience of cycling than most drivers in New York, let alone the rest of the US, have.  The drivers in Paris were good, but I suspect a fair number of them, if they're not currently cyclists, recently rode bikes on a more or less regular basis.

One thing I can't get over is how, where the bike lane of the Jacques Cartier Bridge crosses the exit for Ile Sainte Helene, drivers not only stopped, they didn't creep into the intersection--or drive into it and expect you to pick up your speed and get out of their way--the way many New York drivers in New York, and the rest of the US, do.

Yes, I did ride over the Pont Jacques Cartier--to Ile Ste. Helene, as I mentioned, and from there to the South Shore of the St. Lawrence River.  This time, I took the east walkway/bike lane because, well, it was closest to where I had been riding.  One of the first things I realized was that I was rolling on an asphalt service; the last time I pedalled across the Bridge, my tires buzzed on the grating that separated them from the St. Laurent, 400 feet below.  

It was then that I recalled that the last time I rode across the bridge, I was on the west side.  No matter.  I was out to enjoy the ride, and the city.

The last time I saw the island--and its "twin", the Ile de Notre Dame--they seemed to be relics of the Terre des Hommes exhibit of Expo '67.  Since then, a lot of landscaping and other work--including, ironically, the building of the Montreal Casino an Notre Dame.  But it's far enough over on the island that it's possible to, if not notice it, at least not get too close to it.

Since I last saw the islands, the city has done, I think, a nice job with them--creating bike and walking paths, fixing eroded areas and creating botanical gardens and the Biosphere, among other things.

Today there were two events that closed off parts of the islands.  One was a cyclocross race.  I didn't mind that one:  The circuit, on dirt paths, didn't interfere with anything else. But the other event closed off access roads and made it dificult to get back on to the Pont.  But I, and others, managed.



Along the South Shore--mainly in the suburb of Longueuil--there's a series of bike lanes that takes you from the bridge, though residential neighborhoods, between a highway and series of railroad tracks (not as bad as it sounds) and through local parks.  

Then, after getting back into Montreal, I picked up some excellent Quebec goat cheese and something from France that seemed to be a cross between Brie and Camembert, with more of a grayish outer rind.  It was one of the creamiest cheeses I've ever eaten!  I washed them down with some little yellow grape tomatoes I picked up from a farmer's market.  Later after wending through some streets in Old Montreal and the area around McGill University, I would eat some succulent raspberries, purchased from the same market, 

Then I rode up Rue Amherst (How did a street in Montreal get a name like that?)  to a place called "l'Ecomusee du Fier Monde". Located in a former public bathhouse,  the Ecomusee states that, as part of its mission, it aims to teach people in the community about its history as a way of empowering them.

The upper level of the museum had a show describing the rise and fall of industry in the Cetre-Sud area of Montreal, and the lives of workers during that time.  It's interesting, even if you're not from the area.  The lower level, on the other hand, hosted a exhibit on "Art of Imagination". I liked the idea better than most of the actual paintings, which were a bit too New-Agey for my tasts.

After that, I descended la rue Amherst to Old Montreal and the beginning of a bike path along the Lachine Canal.  Said canal was built to avoid the rapids in the St. Lawrence River, and was thus one of the most heavily-used canals in the world.  The opening of the St. Lawrence Seaway and the rise of interprovince trucking caused the canal to fall into disuse.

This is where the canal rejoins the river:

   

When you look at how wide the river is, you understand why, at one time, Montreal was the second-biggest port city in North America.  

As you can imagine, all of the riding I've described made me hungry.  So I pedaled up Boulevard Saint Laurent for this:

We were all waiting to get into Schwartz's, renowned for its smoked meats, especially in sandwiches.  I got their signature item:  a smoked beef sandwich on rye bread with mustard.  It might be even more unhealthy than poutine, but it was worth every calorie and every globule of fat.