05 September 2010

Remembrance of Bikes Past

Funny how, after getting a new bike, I'm having a remembrance of bikes past.  Not that the new bike makes me wish for the old ones.  Rather, I think it has to do with the fact that Helene is my first new bike (and the second bike I've bought) since my surgery.  


Perhaps one day I'll sit down and list, and possibly write remembrances of, other bikes I've owned and ridden. 


While searching for something else on the internet, I came across this photo in ratrodbikes .  




My very first bike (that I can recall, anyway) was the diamond-frame version of this bike:  a Royce Union three-speed.  


The bike was my grandfather's last Christmas gift to me.  I was seven years old, if I recall correctly, and it would be another three years before I could ride the bike!  Being the eldest sibling, and growing up in a time when adults (including my parents) rarely, if ever, rode bicycles, I had no worries about my treasure becoming a hand-me-down.  


I rode the Royce-Union until I got my first ten-speed at age thirteen:  a department-store Murray that I managed to wreck within a year.  Then, with money I saved from delivering newspapers, I bought a Schwinn Continental for the princely sum of 105 dollars, including tax.  The shop in which I bought that Schwinn also sold Peugeots, including a PX 10 for 250 dollars.  Then, I thought it utter decadence to spend that much on a bike.  Three years later, I would pay 350 dollars for the very same bike--used!  


I hope that one day soon,  I will list all of the bicycles I've had--or, at least, the ones I recall.  Until then, consider this the "down payment."  In a sense, that's what my Royce Union three-speed was.

04 September 2010

New York: Where Utility Bikes Are Made, Not Born

In Amsterdam and Copenhagen, one is struck by the degree to which bicycles conduct the flow of daily life.  People ride them to go to work, to go shopping, to run errands, visit friends and to do go to all of those meetings, appointments and other events that are part of daily life.  And one thing that's gratifying is that in those cities, many people who ride to work and such could afford to drive a car.  To be sure, ten-dollar-a-gallon gasoline is a strong incentive to forsake automobiles for short trips.  But I think that in those cities, people also see the practicality of cycling:  In those settings, it's often quicker and easier to ride a bike than it is to drive or even to take mass transit.  

It's been a while since I've been to the Dutch or Danish capital, but from what I hear, cycling is still as prevalent a mode of transportation as it was years ago.


What's also striking is the fact that in those cities, no matter what a person's occupation or income, he or she is likely to be riding a bike very similar to whatever someone else might be pedaling to a job, a store or a friend's house. Some might have more elegant paint jobs or a few more creature-comfort accessories, but the basic bike doesn't vary so much.  By now, most Americans have seen at least an image of the prototypical Dutch (or Dutch-style) city bike.  On it, weight is seemingly no object:  Carbon steel bikes with internally-geared hubs are fitted with racks, fenders and other accessories made of the same material.  And, of course, they have full chain cases and the women's bikes often have dress guards.  Convenience for someone who thinks of him or her self, not as a cyclist, but as a waiter, bookkeeper, technician, accountant, artist, writer or any other kind of worker on his or her way to a job on his or her bicycle.  Or, he or she is a shopper, or a grandparent en route to see the grandkids, or can have any number of other identites--and he or she is using a bike as a vehicle (in the original sense of the word) to fulfill tasks, wants, needs, or pleasures.

What I have described is true, if to a lesser degree, in other European cities. And they have their own variations on the "city bike," which have evolved out of decades or even a century or more of cycling as a part of daily life.  A French city bike, as an example, is likely to be a bit lighter than a Dutch bike, and is as likely as not to have derailleur gears rather than an internally-geared hub.  This has to do with the fact that most French cities are at least a bit hillier than Amsterdam or Copenhagen. (Then again, most cities are.)  Plus, even though Paris, Lyon, Toulouse and Bordeaux are relatively compact, given their populations, they are still a bit more spread out than Amsterdam or Copenhagen.  

Even so, they are not as hilly as many cities in the Americas.  (Lyon is an exception; even Toulouse, which is in the foothills of the Pyrenees, is relatively flat.)  And their ideas about how to ride to work are different from those Americans who ride their bikes to their jobs.

Plus...Here's something I've experienced first-hand:  Their streets are, for the most part, better-maintained than those in American cities, or at least the ones in New York.  There, bikes "age" and get "weathered;" here, a bike that's ridden  and parked on the streets every day gets beat up.  And, finally, it seems that there's more bike theft here than in European cities.



So, while shops here have begun to carry bikes that are meant to be utilitarian commuters (like the Pashleys and Abicis), I don't see that they are becoming "consensus" commuters.  I've seen a couple of those bikes hee, and a few more that strive to emulate (or cynically copy the most obvious features of ) them, like the Breezers and the city commuters marketed by Specialized, Giant and Trek.  But I think that if they are going to become standard commuters' fare in this city, that day will be some time in coming.

New York is still a city in which bikes become, rather than are made to be, commuters or utility vehicles.  I realized this when I passed by the Bel Aire Diner, which is three blocks from my apartment.  I often eat there, and I pass it (or at least see it) nearly every day.  There is always a gaggle of bicycles outside




Yes, those really are delivery bikes:  The diner does a lot of deliveries and employs more delivery men (Yes, they're all male.) than the average restaurant. 

They're like a lot of bikes that are ridden to jobs, schools, appointments and stores:  Far from their original owners and purposes.  About ten or fifteen years ago, most bikes parked on streets were bike-boom-era ten-speeds (Some of which had been turned, whether or not by design, into single-speeds.); some were English three-speeds or imitations thereof and some others were lower-end, first-generation (early-to-mid '80's) mountain bikes.

These days, those bikes, like the ones parked by the diner, are likely to be mountain bikes from the early-to-mid '90's or thereabouts.  There are a few road machines, and still a few "classic" bikes from the '70's. Even many of the so-called "hipster fixies" started their lives as multigeared touring or racing bikes from that era.  



But, even with all of the students who ride to Pratt or SVA on "hipster fixies," or all the mountain-bikes-turned-delivery-hacks, there is still no signature commuter or utility bike for this city as there is for its European counterparts.  And, somehow, I don't think there will be, at least not for some time.   

Uncrossing Our Fingers: The Day After The Storm That Wasn't

Yesterday's radio (and, I assume, television) programming was interrupted or punctuated by updates on Hurricane Earl.  Forecasters expected it to be the biggest storm in nearly two decades:  the biggest since the "perfect storm" that inspired the eponymous book and movie.


For much of the day, it looked as if the storm would hit.  The sky was so heavy that it looked as if it could submerge everything beneath it without a single drop of rain falling.  And the air, it seemed, was even heavier, yet viscous, with heat and humidity.




But, in the end, more sweat dripped from people's skins than raindrops fell from the clouds.  Some time in the wee hours of morning, some of the wind from the storm blew the clouds away.  So, save for the difficulty of pedaling into the wind, today was a wonderful day to ride, walk or be outdoors for any other reason.  It was warm enough to wear a sundress or tank top and shorts, but the wind was brisk enough to open one's pores to the hind of chill that it brought.  


I took a very leisurely ride on my fixie (Is that a contradiction?) and basked in both sun and wind on a park bench. Tosca, my fixie, seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.  






The day after a storm, or just bracing for one, everything seems like a reverie.  Especially a bike ride.

02 September 2010

A Full Bike Rack!

Today I cycled to my regular job and my "moonlighting" gig.  As is so often the case, my Le Tour was the only bike parked at my regular college.  On the other hand, when I arrived at my other school, I couldn't find a spot for my bike. 

The college has one designated area for bicycle parking.  It's about twenty feet directly in front of the guard station where most students, faculty and staff come in if they are driving or walking.  In it are those long racks that look like waves of steel.  One can lock a bike to the outside part of the "wave"--or inside, if the bike is small enough or can be folded or maneuvered.

Well, it seemed that every inch of space on those racks had been used!  Except for the inside one of the inverted "U"s that are part of those waves, that is. So, I took my tote bag out of my rear basket, which I folded.  Then I tilted the bike as close to paralell with the ground as I could and managed to nudge the bike inside.  Then I locked the frame's rear triangle to the rack.

My momentary annoyance at trying to find a parking spot turned to gratification that so many people rode bikes on such a hot day. (The temp got up to 97 F.)  Some of the bikes looked like they came from department stores or the worst eBay sites.  But others were well-worn  ten- and three-speeds from the 1970's or thereabouts:  a Ross Eurosport, a couple of Schwinns, a Motobecane Mirage with its original Simplex derailleur (That would date the bike at 1974 or earlier; Motobecanes started to come euipped with Sun Tour derailleurs the following year.)   Those bikes made me a little sentimental, for they were new when I was young and first becoming serious about cycling.

I wish only that I had my camera with me.  Not only could I have shown those overflowing bike racks; I could also have been vain and posted more images of myself.  I rode in a skirt and heels and received a lot of compliments on the way I looked.  The skirt was a paisley print in shades of tropical-seas-blues, white and black.  With it, I wore a tank top and short cardigan in one of the shades of blue and a pair of black sling-back peep-toe shoes with three-inch heels.

Because there were so many bikes, I'd bet that I wasn't the only well-dressed cyclist who came to the college today. 

I am still thinking, not only about the fact that I saw so many bikes at my new gig, but that I see so few--often, none--at my regular job.  I think that the discrepancy has much to do with the fact that my second job has a much more diverse student body:  Some come from the poorer areas of the city, but many come from middle-class and even affluent areas of Queens.  As Velouria and others have said, the poorer immigrants-- who  comprise much of the student population at my main job--often equate cycling for transportation with poverty and lower social status:  exactly what they hoped to escape by leaving the places of their birth.  And, in those places, there it seems that riding for sport is all but non-existent.

I'll be very interested to see whether I'll continue to encounter full bike racks at my new gig.

01 September 2010

Falling Asleep After Riding

Yesterday I biked to work after pulling an all-nighter.  Then I came home, and not long after downing a wonderful chicken and rice platter from The King of Falafel and Shawarma, I fell asleep. 


In a way, it's upsetting to know that I had fallen asleep after a mere commute on my bike.  Yes, I stayed up all of the night before and I'm not as young as I used to be.  But, still...I'm supposed to fall asleep after riding up and down mountains or a hundred-mile day on a bike laden with panniers and camping equipment--not from a mere commute.


I guess I haven't given up the notion that it's somehow more noble, or at least more fun, to fall into a long, deep sleep after an adventure or some eclat than it is to drift into (and out, and possibly into again) subconsciousness after mere routine.


Then again, last night's sleep was very restful and restorative.   And, when I got home last night, I was so tired that I wasn't thinking about the fact that I had what was basically a very routine day and ride.  It was thinking about the circumstances, and wanting to be in better shape than I'm in now, caused me berate myself today for falling asleep immediately after dinner last night.




Have you ever fallen asleep immediately after riding your bike?  What was that like?