Which Bike Was Pinned Up?

Back in my youth, millions of teenaged boys and young men had Raquel Welch pinup posters on their walls.  A couple of years later, they (or their younger brothers) hung images of Farrah Fawcett in their dorms.


Around the time FF replaced RW as the pinup queen, I started to work in a bike shop.  On my first day there, I was greeted by this:

Now, before I (however unwittingly!) turn this into a low-grade version of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, I'll bring this post back to the topic of bicycles--namely, the one she's, er, riding.


It's a Schwinn Super Sport.  You can look at it, without distractions, here:

 OK, so it's not the same bike.  But it's the same model. The bike, I mean.  And it's in a shade of red I like a lot.  I think Schwinn called it "bright Burgundy" or something like that.


In any event, the model in both photos is...not as well known as FF or RW.  Oh, the bike--In both photos, it's the Schwinn Super Sport.

Back when I bought my Continental, it was the next model up.  It cost, if I recall correctly, about 25 dollars more.  That may not sound like much, but its price was about 25 percent higher than that of the Continental.  That was a fair-sized chunk of change for most people, let alone a 14-year-old, back then.


Like most people, I couldn't see a huge difference.  However, the Super Sport had a couple of features that may well have made it a more performance-oriented bike.  Those same features also helped to make the SS one of the strangest bikes ever made.


The frame was filet-brazed from Chrome-Molybdenum steel, while the Continental was flash-welded from regular steel tubing.  The Cr-Mo, of course, made for a lighter bike that would have been more responsive.  So did the alloy rims (the Continental's were steel).  


So far, so good.  But if you look closely at the photo of the burgundy Super Sport, you will see a couple of incongruous features.


The most stunningly inappropriate part is the forged steel one-piece (a.k.a. Ashtabula) cranks.  With the steel chainrings and chainguard, it may have weighed more than the wheels.


What's even stranger is that those cranks are paired with aluminum alloy "rat trap" pedals made in France by Atom.  I always thought they were rather pretty, but when I rode a pair (on another bike), I learned that they were very fragile.


Plus, as I recall, the Super Sports had the same welded-on steel kickstands as the Continental and all lower models.  


I think that trying to make a budget "performance" bike is laudable.  But I always had the feeling the designers of the "Super Sport" weren't certain as to whether they were making that, or a two-wheeled tank for kids to pedal off curbs.

Cranking (and Gearing) Up Arielle

So...How do you spend another dreary winter day on which the streets are still full of ice?  I know, ride a trainer or rollers.  I may just go out and get one or the other.  I used to ride rollers, back when I raced and when I told myself I was "going to get back into racing."  I know it helped to keep me in shape and improved my bike handling skills.  But it was boring, boring, boring!

So I spent today--part of it, anyway--modifying Arielle a bit. 

There was nothing wrong with her;  as I mentioned a while back, I didn't feel I needed the triple I had given her.  So I swapped the crankset for a "compact" double and changed the cassette (and chain, which needed it).  The gearing change allowed me to switch from a long- to short-cage rear derailleur and from a triple to a double front derailleur.

Arielle's drivetrain now consists of:

• Sugino "Alpina" 170mm cranks with Specialites TA "Syrius" chainrings, 50 and 36T
• Phil Wood bottom bracket with 108mm stainless steel spindle and rings
• Shimano "Dura Ace 7700" (9-speed) rear derailleur
• Shimano "Dura Ace 7402" front derailleur
• SRAM 850 8-speed cassette
• SRAM 890 chain
• White Industries Platform Pedals with MKS steel toe clips, Velo Orange leather toe clip covers and Velo Orange Straps
• DiaCompe "Silver" downtube levers.

I had been using the levers before the switch.  I like them very much:  They have a smooth action and feel good on my fingers.  I like the simplicity of downtube friction shifters:  After riding with Shimano STI and Campagnolo Ergo brifters for about a decade and a half, I came back to them about two years ago.

Interestingly enough, the same size bottom bracket worked with both the triple and the double.  Of course, that does not mean that you can get away with using the same bottom bracket when switching from one crank to another:  That depends on which model you're switching from and switching to, and on various dimensions of your frame.

I had been using the 50T chainring on my triple.  I decided to keep it because it gives me some gears that I really like.

Now all I need is some decent riding conditions.  I'm not fussy about temperatures, can stand some wind and don't even mind light precipitation.  But I'm not about to ride when there's ice everywhere.  Arielle deserves better than that!

What You Always-- Or Never-- Wanted

I'll admit that I've had more bikes than most people--in fact, more than some communities.  Maybe that's the reason why I don't yearn for bikes I don't have, as I did in my youth.  I have a pretty good idea of what I like and don't like, so I have bikes I love and that feel right for me.  I still try new components and accessories, as my needs in such areas as gearing change.  


Soon, I'll post something about The Bikes of My Life.  I'll recollect about some from my past and talk about my recent and current rides.  Even though I have bikes I love, I still miss a couple of the old ones sometimes.  However, I realize now that those feelings are as much about some of the experiences I had with those bikes as they were about the ride qualities.  And, I admit, that my memories of both the experiences and ride qualities have been distorted, if not erased, by time.


That said, I've had a few bikes I don't really want to see or ride again.  And there are the bikes I'm glad I didn't get and the ones I've never had the urge to try or buy.  Here's one I saw up-close some time ago:

I found this photo of it while surfing the web.  I'm guessing that it's a downhill bike of some sort.  For all I know, it may be a great bike for the purpose.  But then again, I never had any wish to do downhill riding (on what Peter White calls "invalid bikes"), so I wouldn't have any reason to ride or buy such a bike.  


Are there bikes from your past that you wish you had now?  Bikes you wish you could have had?  Bikes you never want to see again? Or, are there any you never had and never wanted?  

Ground Hogs and Safety In Numbers

Is there indeed safety in numbers?   That's what these guys seem to be saying.

Or does it mean that if you're alone, you need a basket?


Actually, the fact that I'm asking questions like that means I've spent too much time (or, at least, more time than I like) off my bike.


At the battle of the Somme, officers were heard to ask, Quand sera-ce fini?:  When will it end?  That's what almost everyone, even people who love the snow and ice are asking.   (Given the way the weather is further straining already-stretched budgets, it might be more pertinent to say, Nous sommes dans le pot de chambre, et nous y serons emmerdes.)


Looking at bicycle-related websites and shopping for things I might need for the upcoming season seems utterly incongruous.  Sometimes it feels as if I'm preparing for a day that might not come.  

Supposedly, there's only six more weeks of winter:  The groundhog didn't see his shadow.  Well, with the weather we've been having, there aren't many shadows of anybody or anything!


What if a group of groundhogs came up together?  Would they have been more or less likely to see their shadows?  Would they be safer?  Or, at least, would they  be less likely to get snowed in?

Solitary In The Snow

For the past couple of weeks, the only people I've seen on bicycles were making deliveries for the local restaurants and diner.   Whenever I see a delivery man (Yes, they're all men.), he likely to be the only cyclist on the road at that moment.


I think now of my days as a messenger.  There were days when I was not only the only cyclist on the streets (at least for a few blocks around), I was sometimes the only person to be seen on the streets.  It didn't matter whether I was on or around Wall Street, or in one of the industrial areas that still existed, though as shadows of their former selves, in Manhattan.  


In those days, I was watching quite a few post-apocalypse movies, most of which I've forgotten.  (Frankly, I watched most of them high or drunk.)  That may have been the reason why the landscape seemed almost lunar, and I felt like some sort of pioneer or homesteader.  


Somehow the snow and ice made me, and the few other people who were outside, seem even more solitary, as if the scene were a photograph negative of a chiaroscuro portrait.

This photo was taken in Kalamazoo, Michigan yesterday.  But it could have been shot in just about any community of any size in the Northeast or Midwest during the past couple of weeks.  It feels as if these storms are making every cyclist seem solitary.


In a sense, we are.