Maintenance And Makeovers

I've been back to riding regularly, more or less, for nearly two months.  It feels really, really good:  I'm starting to overcome how little riding I did this winter, and my age.

It's a good thing I'm back in the saddle most days.  You see, being the old-time mechanic I am, when I'm not riding I work on my bikes.  Now, there's some maintenance I normally do during the winter:  I usually replace my cables and chains. Sometimes I install tires, brake pads, cogs and handlebar tape.  More rarely, I'll put on other new parts or accessories, depending on how badly they're worn.

But this past winter I went "above and beyond" what I needed to do.  You see, I changed the looks of my bikes a bit.  

Here is Arielle, my Mercian Audax, with her "makeover" that she didn't need, if I do say so myself:

After Ely of Ruth Works made those bags for me, I had a feeling that they would look even better with a Brooks honey saddle and handlebar tape.  I asked Ely; he encouraged me and assured me that (in his opinion, anyway), it would look fine with the paint, whether it was showing its purple or green side. (It's Mercian's #57 "flip flop" finish.) 

I was fortunate to find this slightly-ridden "pre-softened" Brooks Professional--with copper-plated rails--for $100.  Apparently, it was made during the time Sturmey-Archer owned Brooks. At least, the style of the nameplate on the rear (which I like a lot on this saddle) would indicate as much.

Tosca got a similar revamp, except that she got a current Brooks Professional.  Somehow I don't think it's that much, if at all, stiffer than the "pre-softened" saddle was when it came out of the box.

Somehow I get the feeling the bikes, the leather and canvas are going to grow old together nicely.  I could say the same for Vera, my green Miss Mercian mixte:

The saddle is a B17 and I used one roll of tape on the handlebars.   The front bag on this bike--and the British Racing Green paint--seemed to call out for the honey leather even more than my other bikes did.

And, no I didn't leave Helene--my other Miss Mercian--out.  I'll have some shots of her soon.

I Went On A Perfect Bike Ride And All I Brought Back Was This Picture

A day off from work.  Barely a cloud in the sky.  Warm, but not overly so.

Sounds like a great time to ride, right?

And ride I did.  On Arielle.  The ride was even breezier than the day.  In fact, at times, it seemed just as easy when I was riding into the breeze as when it blew at  my back.



I did a metric century (105 km, or 65 miles, to be exact) and was no worse for it.  In fact, I felt even more invigorated at the end of it.  The only reason I didn't ride longer, or take another ride, is that I have a couple of things to take care of tonight to prepare for my participation in Pride Weekend events.

So where's the rub, you ask?   Surely you don't read this blog for conflict-free stories (Is that an oxymoron?) and happy endings, now, do you?



All right, there was one slight problem.  Along Rockaway or Coney Island Beach, I wanted to take some photos of Arielle with the Ruth Works bags and new handlebar tape.  When I stopped at a spot along the reconstructed Rockaway boardwalk where I thought the light was particularly nice, I turned on the camera.  Actually, it didn't turn on:  The battery was dead!



I think I accidentally turned it on the last time I put it away.  I have another battery that I keep in the charger and when I switch batteries, I put the depleted one in the charger.  Unfortunately, the charged battery and charger were in my apartment!

So I took only this photo with my cell phone.  It's not bad, given the phone and my skills. But I couldn't capture the kind of detail I'd hoped to have in new photos I would have used to update the blog.  Oh well.

Celebrating Myself And The Soul Clapping Its Hands And SInging

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form’d from this soil, this air,

Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the same,

I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,

Hoping to cease not till death.

 I am, ahem, a bit older than thirty-seven.  And this blog is a good bit younger than that.

So you can be forgiven for wondering why I'm starting this post with the first part of Walt Whitman's Song of Myself.

Well, you know, writers and English instructors are supposed to use pithy quotes from their favorite writers.  But seriously...I feel that Whitman's verses encapsulate much of the spirit of this blog--and this day.

You see, this blog turns four years old today.  So, it's lasted as long as a US Presidential term (and a gubernatorial term in most states).  It's also lasted as long as the average American stays on any particular job. (My friend Lakythia, with whom I rode yesterday, works in workforce development and mentioned that particular fact.)  And, ahem (What does it tell you when you see two "ahem"s in one post), it's as long as I was married.  When I look back, I'm amazed it lasted that long.


But back to Whitman and this blog:  I guess one might say that this blog is a celebration of myself.  Perhaps a blog about one's personal experiences, feelings and such is, by definition, just that.  Some might say it's self-indulgent.  Perhaps it is.   But even the most self-effacing person, let alone an entire culture, does not survive without celebrating him/her/itself, even if in small ways.

Seen while loafing and inviting my soul during a stop in St. Luke's garden in Greenwich Village

We also survive, at least in part, by loafing and inviting our souls.  Scientists have emphasized the importance of daydreaming, imagining as well as various other kinds of playing and "down" time in everything from the development of a child to the creative processes of everyone from poets to physicists, artists to entrepreneurs.  Perhaps my accomplishments are small compared to those of others and the footprint I've made--and will leave behind--will be minimal.  But it's hard for me to imagine my accomplishments and triumphs, such as they are, without cycling. 

Sooner or later I'm going to update the masthead photos: People tell me I look a bit different now and, of course, the bikes do, too, with the bags Ely of Ruth Works made for me.  Since it's loafing, if you will, I'm not going to rush any of it.  I tried soliciting donations and advertising, to no avail. Really, I am not disappointed with that:  This is a labor of love.  And cycling has made so many other things possible in my life that I simply can't begrudge whatever I didn't make from this blog.

Anyway..,It makes a certain amount of sense to do what I'm going to do next:  close with a quote from William Butler Yeats. For one thing, I often find myself looking at Yeats after I look at Whitman.  But, for another,in his Sailing To Byzantium, he gave the best advice one can get after loafing and inviting his or her soul.  It's a pretty fair summation of what I feel when I'm cycling:  Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing/ For every tatter in its mortal dress.

A Day At The Races, In The Town

Yesterday I rode out to Somerville, in part to see the races (some of them, anyway) and in part for the ride itself.  Also, it’s good—for me, anyway—to re-enact an old ritual every now and again.

Last year, I took a route I had followed several times before, through Newark and Jersey City and Westfield.  From there, I followed, more or less, the paths of the Rahway and Raritan rivers to Bound Brook, the next town over from Somerville.

This year, I decided to try a route I found on one of the map websites.  It looked promising:  It avoided a section of US Highway 22 on which I found myself very briefly but I wanted to avoid because the high point of it was finding a deer carcass sprawled across my path.

Well, I found myself veering off the route on several occasions:  There were series of turns that would have challenged even the best ballerinas.  You can guess what happened next:  I found myself on that very same stretch of 22.  Admittedly, I didn’t have to spend more than half a kilometer on it, but it was unpleasant enough, especially in light of what happened:  A section of my front inner tube bubbled through a cut in my tire and flatted---at the very spot where I saw the deer carcass last year.

A minor annoyance, I admit.  But I decided that this ride was going to be “perfect”—which is not a good mindset from which to set out on two wheels (or for doing very many other things, I’ve found).  I fixed the tube (I had a spare, but I figured the tube was easily fixable) and booted the tire.  During those few minutes, it seemed that the temperature rose by about ten degrees:  What had been a pleasantly warm day was turning into a borderline “scorcher”.  Beautiful as the day was, conditions were draining:  The weather had turned hot, with direct sunlight.  And I was pedaling directly into a 20-30 KPH wind.  I guess if I ever decide to ride across a desert, such conditions would train me well.

On top of everything, I’d forgotten my water bottle.  As I was getting dressed, I popped it into the freezer.  I sometimes leave it in for a few minutes before a ride on a warm day:  The water doesn’t freeze, but remains pleasantly cool for a couple of hours into a ride—by which time I’d need a refill.

What that meant were a couple of stops at local grocery stores for Poland Spring water and Gatorade, which I don’t normally drink.  I made an exception for the latter because I saw that I wasn’t sweating but my T-shirt was turning into a tie-dye collage or batik (choose your metaphor) of salt stains.  

Still, I enjoyed the ride, which I estimated to be about eight or ten kilometers longer than I’d planned.  I didn’t stay for all of the races:  I left just before five because I wanted to avoid riding in the dark through the desolate industrial areas of North Elizabeth and South Newark.  I made it to Penn Station in Newark just as the orange and red and purple of the sunsets (which are so colorful in those polluted areas) were turning into the metallic hues that reflected the new office and condo towers near the station.

Arielle, as always, made it a great ride.  And I am more and more convinced that the Ruth Works Brevet bag hanging from my handlebar is the best piece of bicycle luggage I’ve found in a long time, if not in my cycling life.

Oh, by the way, I rode—from what I measured on my maps—164 km, or a little more than 101 miles.  That means I rode my first non-metric century of the year.

(By the way, I've written a post about the town itself on my other blog.)

Opening

We've all taken one of those rides in which we can feel our whole bodies loosening up and everything within us opening and expanding.  At least, I hope you've taken at least one such ride in your life.

I did, yesterday.  It was one of those clear, breezy and mild spring days that so many of us dream about during the short days and long months of winter.  And, naturally, I took another ride to Point Lookout.

It seemed as if the sea and sky were stretching even further than I ever imagined they could.  But something else happened that I don't recall having experienced before

.

i could almost feel my bike--Arielle--stretching her wings, as it were, and taking in the air and light.  The day seemed to liberate her as much as it did me.

  
It used to be (and perhaps it still is) that the highest compliment someone could pay a bike is that it felt like an extension of his or her body while riding it.  I felt something even better:  Arielle was an extension of me and seemed to be experiencing the same sensations I had.

And, as always, she looked great.

By the way, I want to make another plug for Ely Rodriguez's Ruth Works bags.  I think the Brevet bag you see on the handlebar is becoming my favorite bag of all time.

Product Review: Ruth Works SF Brevet Bag and Small Seat Wedge

 I am going to write a valentine to someone. It's OK if his wife sees it.

But I warn him, her and you:  It won't be the last one I'll write for him.

Actually, I love the person of whom I'm writing in the same way I love people who create my favorite works of art and literature, food and, of course, bicycles.

I will begin this "Valentine" with a photo I've posted previously:

As one commenter noted, in this bike, Tosca (my Mercian "fixie") is sporting two bags she hadn't before.  The person of whom I am writing in this post made them.

Some of you may be familiar with the work of Ely Ruth Rodriguez of San Francisco.  I have never met him in person but I have spoken to him on the phone and, of course, corresponded with him by e-mail. He is a friendly and engaging person who exudes the enthusiasm of someone who loves what he's doing.

That passion comes through in the bags he creates.  

The little hearts stamped into the back of this bag are only a symbol of it, charming as they are.  If you look closely, you will see his impeccable stitching and finishing.  You will also notice this detail:

Those initials are mine.  That bag is the one you see on the front of my bike.

In addition to its beautiful workmanship, it has some of the best design I've seen in a bike accessory.

Those inside flaps are absolutely brilliant:  They keep the contents in the bag if I ride with the top flap opened.  This is especially desirable when you're riding with your camera or smart phone.

This fine piece of cycle luggage is called the Ruth Works Brevet Bag.  It fills a need I've felt for a long time:  It's about half the size of a traditional handlebar bag but larger--and more solidly constructed--than typical "handlebar purses."

The canvas from which this bag is constructed seems heavier and stiffer than on Carradice, Berthoud and other bags I've used.  Like the sacs from those well-known makers, my Brevet Bag kept my camera, phone and wallet dry during a rainstorm into which I rode.

The color you see is called "Nantucket Red".  It's really more of a salmon-pink color, rather like some flowers I've given and received.  Believe it or not, it's one of Ruth Works' standard colors.  (The others are black and a Berthoud-like grey.)  Ely will make your bag in other colors for an additional charge.  He will also make your bags out of other materials:  For example, he has made vegan versions  for several of his customers. 

If you buy a Brevet bag, as I highly recommend that you do, remember to pull the leather straps as tight as you can when you install it.  That is best accomplished by threading the straps through the bag the way Peter White recommends threading them into Carradice saddlebags. Also, at the same time I bought the bag, I replaced my brake cables, as I do every year or so.  I actually cut the new cables a bit longer than the old ones so I could loop them to rest on top of the bag straps. Of course, if you use traditional non-aero levers, or are installing this bag on upright, "porteur" or "mustache" bars,you will not have to think about cable routing.

The other bag you see on the bike was also made by Ely:

  

  
It's the small seat wedge, which will hold a spare tube (or two), your multi-tool, patch kit, tire levers and mini-pump (if you use one) with room to spare.  As you can see, it has a "roll" top secured by a strap and buckle.  Actually, there is velcro at the mouth of the bag, so if you expand and fill it so that you can't buckle down the flap, the bag will remain closed.

(Note:  In the photo, I used a toe strap because I temporarily misplaced the strap made for the bag. Ely supplies a leather strap that matches the one used to lash the bag to the saddle rails.)

If you like, Ely will make this bag with a zipper instead of the roll top and velcro.  I prefer not to have zippers on my bike bags, although zippers are not a "deal breaker" for me in choosing a bag.

I have also purchased other bags--yes, in this color-- from Ely.  I'll write more about them later.  I chose to write about the Brevet Bag and tool roll first because I have used them the most, and have ridden with them on Arielle (my Mercian Audax) and Vera (my green Mercian mixte) as well as on Tosca-.   Based on my experience so far, I love these bags' functionality and workmanship--and, let's face it, the way they look on my bikes.

I have mentioned some of the ways in which Ely will modify bag designs to your preferences.  He will add--or omit--pockets and other features as you like, or even build a bag to your design.  Also, he makes bags for musical instruments, martial arts equipment and other purposes.  Just call or write to him and discuss what you have in mind.