Nuke This

I'm selling a couple of things on eBay.  So, naturally, I did a little "shopping."  In addition to bike items, I like to look for books, music and vintage brooches and other accessories.  Ebay is actually quite a good source for the latter:  When someone cleans out an attic in Iowa or goes through Aunt Hattie's estate in North Carolina, all kinds of interesting things can turn up!


Anyway, it almost goes without saying that eBay is one of the first places you check if you're looking for discontinued bike parts.  And, sure enough, something I rode about fifteen years ago and hadn't thought about in about ten appeared:

The hub is a Nuke Proof, which was made during the 1990's. That was the time when it seemed that every mountain bike bum who was still living with his parents so he could have access to his father's lathe and drill press was making what an old riding partner used to call ELS--Expensive Lightweight Shit. 

For a short time, I had Nuke Proof hubs.  Two pairs, in fact.


The bodies were made of carbon-fiber weave, and the aluminum flanges were apparently bonded to them.  With what, I still haven't found out.


Whatever it was, it wasn't very strong or suitable for the purpose. On three of my four of my Nuke Proof hubs, the flanges separated from the shells and collapsed inward toward the center of the axle.  


From what I understand, this wasn't an unusual occurence.  In fact, I know a couple of cyclists to whom the same thing happened.  


Nuke Proof replaced my hubs.  Or so they said.  To this day, I think they simply Super-Glued them back together.  About a week after I got my wheels back, the rear one on my road bike collapsed again.  They didn't want to replace those hubs again.  But Mike Rodriguez, who owned Open Road Cycles in Brooklyn, was one of NP's better customers.  He got yet another set of new NP hubs.  And he let me take a pair each of Dura Ace and XT hubs, plus some other parts, in exchange for those hubs.  I don't know what he did with them.  


Apparently, Nuke Proof is still in business.  To be fair, they made other parts, and for a time they were also making frames, or at least having them made to their specs.  As far as I know, those products held up better than those hubs I, and a lot of other cyclists, suffered with.


I never heard of anyone getting hurt from mishaps from Nuke Proof hubs. That might be the reason NP is still in business:  If nobody got hurt, they probably didn't have any lawsuits.  Still, those hubs must have cost them a lot in warranty claims!


Those hubs are easily the worst bike hubs--and one of the worst bike parts--I ever had.  


Tell me about some of the ELS (with the emphasis on the "S") you've ridden, dear readers.

Fixin' to Sleep

Well, my plan is working.


I installed a fixed gear on Marianela so that my commutes and errand rides would give me more of a workout.  


Last night, I just barely kept myself awake to read the papers that had to be read and prepare my lesson for today. I think I fell asleep immediately after dotting the last "i" or the end of the last sentence.


Then again, I didn't get nearly enough sleep the night before.  

Interesting Vintage Light

I confess:  I bought it because I had one like it in my youth. And the price was right.


It's a German-made Union "bloc" generator, on which the headlight is attached.  Generators of this type are made to mount on the front fork.  This one was most likely made during the mid-1970's.  I tested it, and found its light output to be surprisingly good, given the light's small size and old-style bulb.


The best-known generator of this style was made by Soubitez of France.  It--especially in its later iterations--was very stylish, as Soubitez products tended to be, and lighter in weight than other generators.  


However, the light on this one is larger than the one on its Soubitez counterpart. It is also, as you can see, mounted on the side of the generator, while Soubitez's light was mounted on the front of the generator body. (Sanyo and other companies emulated Soubitez in this detail.)  


Some would  argue that the Union was a somewhat more efficient generator.  Having owned both, as well as other generator sets made by both companies, I would say they were about equal in that regard. 


French constructeurs commonly installed Soubitez generators (on brazed-on brackets) and lights on their touring bikes and randonneuses, while many Dutch and German city bikes were equipped with Union products.


I was going to use the Union bloc generator in the photo on Marianela.  However, the strut from the basket got in the way.  

That's too bad, because I think it would have looked right on the bike. And it's a good generator.  The light is good, too, especially considering that it's an older technology.  Perhaps there's a halogen or LED bulb that would fit. 


Some would say that would violate the "spirit" of having a light like this.  But I'm all for new technology (when it works better than the old) with old style.  And, for me, that would have been the point of using it.

Exceeding Their Grasp

Although the day was almost as mild as yesterday was, I didn't ride.  In fact, I barely got out of my apartment at all.  I wasn't the only one who stayed indoors:  The driving rain that began some time early this morning seemed not to let up.


As much as many of us would like to think Spring has sprung, some things tell us otherwise:

Stretching toward the light of a sun that is beyond them, their wizened fingers must weather the wind and rain, for now.  They remind me of what Robert Browning wrote in Andrea del Sarto:  "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp/Or what's heaven for?  All is silver-grey/Placid and perfect with my art:  the worse!

Biking Bauhaus

A warm, or at least mild, early March day.  And I spent a good part of it doing errands.  At least it was on my bike.


Is a day like this one a foreshadowing of the season that will soon come?  Or is it a respite from the long, wearying season we've been experiencing?  Or is it just a teaser?


What if days like this were labeled?  What if bikes were so labeled?  Some announce themselves as racing bikes, city bikes or "comfort tourers" (whatever they are) in the decals on their frames or other parts.  Nearly all bikes--even the ones that aren't so marked--are marketed under one designation or another.  


What if there were truth in advertising?  One bike might be labeled, "sound design, solid construction."  Another would have to say, "Ignores 140 years of accumulated wisdom."  Yet another would have to say, "Designed by art-school dropout on crystal meth."  


Or they could tell you what they offer.  "Arcane design and proprietary parts."  How would you like a bike that so announced itself?  "Plastic with a pretentious name."  Then there are those bikes that could tell us they offer a "comfortable ride," "speed" or, perhaps, "flawless shifting and braking."  They could take their inspiration from this:

That building is in my neighborhood, more or less.  I've always wondered whether "Cornice and Skylights" was an advertisement?  An announcement?  The name of the firm that built or manages it?


Whatever its story, it has nothing on this building on the eastern end of Long Island:

You guessed it: Ducks and duck eggs were sold inside this building by a duck farmer.  (Now there's a career!)  Now it's a museum or visitors' center or some such thing.  I'm not surprised, as the days when one could make, or order in a restaurant, a dinner consisting of duck, potatoes and vegetables from Long Island are long past. (Such a dinner could be had during my childhood.  The ingredients could even be bought at our neighborhood's Waldbaum supermarket.)


Hmm...Can you imagine a bike shop or factory shaped like the product made or sold inside?  Is that Bauhausian?  Or some other -ian?  Or Ian?