Not Fooled, But Snowed Under, Again

Just when I thought we were going to have clear roads and the last of the sooty snow residue was gone, we got a couple more inches.  It was pretty wet, dense stuff, so it didn't stay for very long. But we're supposed to get more snow tonight and tomorrow.  So what will that mean for my commute?


Well, if I do ride tomorrow, it will probably mean that in at least one of my schools, I won't be able to use the bike rack.  

Now I'm really wondering what the Ground Hog saw almost three weeks ago. Do we really have only three remaining weeks of winter?

How Much Less Is More?

You all know that Robert Browning wrote "Less is more."  OK, if you studied English Lit instead of architecture, you'd know that.  At least I now know that my degree was good for something.


Anyway, it's become a guiding principle behind changes I made to two of my bikes.  

The irony of that is that when I first started cycling, I--like most people--thought, well, more is more. Young kids rode bikes with 20 inch tires.  In my parents' time, and when I was a young child, bikes for bigger kids and adults (the few who were riding in the US at that time) had 26 inch tires. Ergo, bigger wheel meant better bike.  So those Bike Boom-era ten-speeds with their 27 inch tires had to be le ne plus ultra, or the bee's knees, or whatever you wanted to call it,  of cycling.  

Then we learned that the really high-quality bikes--which included ones with tubular or high-performance clincher tires--had 700C tires.  They were sometimes referred to (quite erroneously) as 28 inch tires.  They were, however, slightly smaller than their 27 inch counterparts.


There was a corollary in gearing.   Most kids' bikes had single-speed coaster brake rear hubs.  Only the more grown-up "English racer" bikes had multiple speeds.  Three, count 'em, three gears!   


Then the bike boom came along, and "ten speed" became synonymous with a higher-performance bike.   Over the years, the bikes designed for the most serious and discerning (or simply status-conscious) riders had more and more gears.    By the turn of the millennium, one of the advantages cited for Campagnolo over Shimano was that the former had ten speeds in the rear, while the latter had "only" nine.  


Ten speeds in the rear.  Whooda dreamed of that back in the days when ten speeds for the whole bike was as exotic as the doors on the de Lorean?


Then, of course, Campagnolo came out with an eleven-speed system a couple of years ago.  So, anybody using it with a double front chainring has 22 speeds.  That's more than what could be had on two bikes forty years ago!


About two years ago, I went back to my roots and gave up on STI/Ergo in favor of friction down tube shifters.  I use them now with 8 speed cassettes in the rear.  


Why?  Well, even if you spend all of your free time scouring e-Bay for screw-on freewheels, you're not likely to find a wide variety of sizes. And they're expensive.  On the other hand, decent quality 8-speed cassettes can still be had at reasonable prices, and a wide range of sizes is available. 


Plus, the cassette system makes installation and removal easier, and is stronger than the old screw-on frewheel system.  And the chains are a bit thicker than those for nine, ten or eleven speeds, and therefore wear longer.

Now, after riding for some time on 8 speeds, I decided to "downsize" some more when I replaced the triple crank on Arielle with a "compact double."  So now I have 16 speeds instead of 24.  Although I'm not a weight weenie, I note that the new setup is a bit lighter.    More important, though, is that shifting is simpler and more reliable.  That has to do with having fewer gears to shift, but it's also a function of the fact that this setup allows me to use short-cage derailleurs, which shift more crisply.

I have the same sort of setup--albeit with lower gears--on Helene.  


It seems, though, no matter how many gears I have, I seem to ride in the same three or four on any given bike for about 90 percent of my riding.  Many other experienced riders say similar things. So, you may be wondering why we don't ride bikes with only our three or four favorite gears.  Well, we like to be prepared, especially if we're far from home or the nearest bike shop.  So we want a couple of lower gears for the hills we may encounter or the wind we run into along the way.  And, of course, we want a couple of higher gears, at least, for more optimal riding conditions.


So, you ask, how much less is more?  Well, that's a question you answer from your own experience.  Robert Browning, after all, wasn't writing about bike gearing!

The Wind: Changes From Yesterday

How much difference can a day make?


Yesterday, when I was riding home from work, the temperature was 70F (21C).  I was tempted to stop somewhere and take off my pantyhose, just to feel the unseasonably mild air against my legs.  


And I was wearing a short-sleeved lavender top and an amethyst-colored overshirt made of a silky material much like that of the blue and gray printed skirt I wore.


Today I wished that I'd worn heavier tights than the ones I wore, even though my riding consisted of a few short errands that totaled no more than 8 miles.


It's about 30 degrees F as I write this, a day and four hours after yesterday's ride home.  And the winds were powerful enough to topple utility poles in Westchester County and New Jersey.


Tomorrow's supposed to be much like today.  So are the couple of days after that.  

Into The Fold Again?

Lately I've been debating to myself whether I want to get a Brompton (when I have the money, of course!).  On one hand, there are ways I could use a folding bike.  And most Brompton owners seem happy with their machines.


On the other hand, I have had one folding bike, which I sold within a year because I didn't like it.  That was a Dahon model with a five-speed internally-geared Sturmey Archer hub.  It's the only bike I've ever owned that felt both squishy and harsh at the same time.  On top of that, the quality didn't seem very good and there were a bunch of proprietary parts.  Hal at Habitat says that the Brompton has even more of them.  


Perhaps the folding bike I'd really want was made more than forty years ago:

Yes, it was by none other than Rene Herse, who is shown with his creation in the July 1970 issue of Bicycling!


Don't you just love those knickers he's wearing?

Potholes and Ice

Yesterday was cold, but clear.  And it seemed that the streets were finally clear of ice and snow.  So I rode to work.  It felt suprisingly normal, and good, considering how little riding I've done this winter.  The ride to my main job, and from there to my part-time job, were actually pretty routine.  


And so was the ride home.  I know that, bit by bit, we're getting closer to spring because it wasn't dark when I got on my bike at the end of my workday.  Rather, I started pedaling around the time the sun was beginning to set.


As I often do, I cut across Flushing Meadow-Corona Park.  It's kind of odd to say "cut," as going through the park actually lengthens my ride.  But I don't mind, as riding through the park is usually pleasant in and of itself, and it allows me to bypass the worst traffic between my home and work:  the area around Main Street in Flushing where, it seems, a whole continent's worth of cars--and driving skills--swerves, squeezes and wedges into four lanes of traffic.  

Some night when I don't have any pressing appointments, I plan to actually stop by the Main Street area.  It may have the widest and best selection of Asian food available in the US, with the possible exception of what's found in a couple of cities in California.


Anyway...My ride home hit a bit of a snag right in the middle of the park:  

OK, so Marianela's not the Titanic and the Park isn't the far North Atlantic.  But at times like that, I really wish that ice would remain in little paper cups, where it belongs, with lemon or cherry flavoring.


The ice spread around the Unisphere to the other end of the park.  So what to do?  Option A was to backtrack and ride up to Main Street. I had scarcely enough time for that.  Option B wast to walk across.  But I figured I had just as much chance of slipping and falling if I were on my feet as I'd have on my bike.  That left me with Option C.  That involved riding through the parts of the path where the ice was rutted with patches of exposed asphalt.  


This may have been the only time in my life I chose to ride through anything resembling potholes.  Maybe the near-constant vibration kept me from thinking about the ice and other hazards.  Whatever the reason, I made it out to the other side of the park.  And the rest of my ride home was as unremarkable as the segment before the park.

Carriers Of News

Today I was drifting aimlessly in cyberspace when I really should have been doing other things.  And, somehow, I came upon this:

Someone rescued a few sets of bags like these from an old newspaper building that was being torn down.  Now he's selling them.


I'll bet that some of you have never even seen, much less used, an old-fashioned newsboys' bag like the one pictured.  In cities, home delivery of newspapers is all but gone.  And in some cities, newspapers themselves, at least the print versions, are a dying breed.


In fact, I haven't even heard the term "newsboy" in a long time.  I wonder if that job still exists.  And if it does, is it done only by "newsboys?"  Back in my day, it was.


Yes, it was a gender-specific job.  I don't think there was any rule against girls delivering newspapers; it just didn't happen.  Or so most people think.  Little did they know...


Yes, I was a newsboy.  At least, that's what I was called.  I started delivering papers a year after my family moved to New Jersey, if I remember correctly.  


And--again, I'm depending memories not only of a long-past time, but of someone I have not been in a seemingly long time--I was even named Carrier of The Month, or some such thing, by The Asbury Park Press.  After I was delivering for about a year, our job titles were made gender-neutral:  newsboys became newspaper carriers.  I could not show the sigh of relief I felt within me when that happened!


I don't think I've looked at the APP since I stopped delivering it.  I've found the online edition, which I've linked.  But now I wonder whether they still have a print edition.


If they don't, what are all those newsboys--er, news carriers--going to do?  After all, that experience must have something to do with the person I've become!

Cycling Colleagues?

At my part-time teaching gig (which may well become full-time), I've become friendly with a few people in my department. Actually, they've all been friendly to me, but because of my schedule, I don't get to see all of them all of the time.  But there is a recurring cast of characters, if you will, and I find myself becoming friendly with a few of them.  One in particular shares a few interests with me, including cycling.

To all of you guys:  She's married.  Of course, that doesn't make any difference to me.  Our common interests include poetry and, as you can see from the photo, cycling.


Now you know I'm not the only one in NY crazy enough to cycle in a skirt through cold weather!


I'm mentioning her because, for one thing, she looks even better on a bike than I do and I don't begrudge her at all. But more to the point, she's the only cycling colleague I've had in all of the time I've been teaching in higher-education institutions.


The colleges in which I've worked have had cycling profs.  Not many, but they were present.  However, I've never had a cycling colleague in a department in which I've taught.


I've done all of my college teaching in the five boroughs of New York City.  So I don't encounter as many profs on bikes as I might on a suburban or rural campus.  However, I can't think of an explanation as to why none of the velocipedic academics I've met have been in English departments or writing or basic-skills programs, which are the departments and programs in which I've always worked.


Are cyclists in English departments as rare in other colleges as rare as they are in the schools in which I've worked?

In A Valley Or A Tunnel Of Wind?

Today I got out for a brief spin on Marianela.  I didn't go much beyond my neighborhood.  But it's nice to loop through side streets that are mostly free of traffic.  I was surprised at how clear they were:  Just a few days ago, there were patches of ice on even the more heavily-used thoroughfares.  


The temperature reached 40 F (5C), which is about normal for an afternoon at this time of year.  However, the wind made it feel a good bit colder.  According to a weather report I heard, we had wind gusts of 40 mph (about 65 kph). I don't think I was riding into, or with, anything so strong.  But I certainly did feel it.  


Usually, when most people think of wind, they think of open, flat areas.  I think of the creation stories and other lore of the Native American tribes who lived in the plains and the desert:  In them, "it is the wind that gave them life," as it did in the Navajo chant I've quoted. And in the places where they lived, when there was wind, there was no escaping from it.  On the other hand, if there isn't wind where you're pedaling, you're not likely to encounter any for a while.


On the other hand, the wind seems to be a more capricious part of urban cycling. Sometimes buildings can act as wind blocks.  However, long rows of the same buildings seem to create a "wind tunnel" effect.  At other times, they are a kind of "valley" of stillness among the relative turbulence.


Now, it's been at least three decades since I took a Physics course.  So I'm sure I've forgotten a lot.  Did the instructor, or the textbook, ever explain why the wind that's blowing in one part of town is stopped by one block full of buildings but intensifies in another.


Anyway...The ride was pleasant, if unremarkable.  My only complaint was that my camera's batteries were dead and I didn't find out until I tried to take a photo. Oh well.

A Reptile Tan From A Spider Saddle?

Now I'm doing something that I've done during the past few winters:  Buying and selling on e-Bay.


If you browse for more than a few minutes, you're bound to find a few ridiculous things.  Then again, people actually buy (and collect!) 8-track tapes, pastel-hued leisure suits and bike parts with designs that were obsolete the day they came out (e.g., derailleurs like Campagnolo's Valentino and Gran Turismo and almost any of Huret's.)


Funny how the worst ideas can become "collectibles."  What's even funnier is that there are people who don't want to merely collect them; they actually want to use them!


So, while someone may want to add this item to his collection, I'm sure someone out there would actually ride it:

I suppose that if I were riding bikes very different from the ones I have--and if I were a different sort of rider, or a collector--I just might want this saddle.  Actually, part of me wants it simply because it's one of the strangest bike components I've ever seen.  But I wouldn't ride it.  


This reminds me of the crochet-backed cycling gloves I just bought.  If you've worn them before, you know about the "reptile tan" you get on the back of your hands when you ride with them.  Hmm...Could something similar happen to your backside if you ride this seat?

Have You Seen This Man?

Would you allow him on your bike?