09 May 2011

Tosca and the Pursuit of Young Love

You know what they say about the Spring...specifically, about where a young man's fancy turns:




Here is the young man:

After I snapped this, a friend of his happened by:




Of course, not all were in pursuit of love at Coney Island.  Some, apparently, already have it.




And Tosca was taking it all in:




which is odd, given that Tosca (Puccini's, anyway) was never known for simply taking things in.

07 May 2011

Remembrance of Bike Past: Romic





So why am I posting a photo of a weird bike I've never seen in person?


Well, believe it or not, it's personal for me.  


Those of you who know me, whether in person or through this blog, know that I have never owned a bike that even remotely resembles that one, and that I've ridden such bikes maybe a couple of times in my life.


Did some hipster use his fixie in an anger management class?Or did some messenger smoke too much of, shall we say, something that's not made by a subsidiary of RJ Reynolds?


Actually, the original owner of that bike had the frame built that way.  Apparently, it was built as a pursuit track frame.  

One thing that makes it more interesting is that the frame was built by a builder with a conservative reputation (in building practices, anyway:  I know nothing about his politics!).



Romic bicycles were built by Ray Gasiorowski in Houston from the mid-70's until the mid-90's.  On some frames he used Nervex-style lugs; on others, he used plainer but elegant long-point lugs.  His work was very clean and solid, if not blingy.  


     
This is a road-racing bike he made, apparently, some time during the early '90's.  Like most of his bikes, it was constructed of Reynolds 531 tubing.  


Here is a Romic touring frame:




Some non-Reynolds Romic bikes were made of Columbus or Tange tubing.  Some of the builder's touring and sport-touring frames had Reynolds 531 main triangles and Tange rear triangles and forks.  I suspect that such was the case with the pictured bike.


My suspicion is an informed one: I had one of those bikes.  It was a sport-touring model, which featured geometry somewhere between the racing and touring bikes in the photos. It was the first frame I ever bought and built up.  


At the time, it was my only bike.  And it was the kind of bike you wanted to have if you were going to have only one:  I toured and raced with it.  The rear triangle was surprisingly stiff for a bike with its geometry; it gave a zippy ride when I put a pair of tubular wheels and tires on it but was remarkably stable when I rode it, with a rack, panniers and handlebar bag, through England and France.  


One of my youthful follies was deciding that I needed a "racier" bike.  So I sold my Romic and bought a Trek frame made from Columbus tubing.  In those days, some Trek racing frames--including the one I bought--had even shorter chainstays and wheelbases than most Italian criterium bikes.  A few cyclists still seek those Trek frames from the late 70s and early 80s for their stiffness.   However, some of them had a problem that could prove painful:  the seat clusters broke off them.  


As far as I know, nothing like that ever happened to a Romic.  Better yet, I still remember the bike--and, more important, the ride--all of these years later.  When I ordered Arielle, I had that Romic in mind.  You might say that my Mercian road bike is an updated, somewhat tighter, version of that Romic from my youth.


Note:  Romic mountain-bike shocks have no relationship to Romic bicycles.  In fact, I think the first Romic shocks were made after Ray Gasiorowski died in 1996.

06 May 2011

Even Better Than A Rockette

This morning, I had to go to my doctor's office in Chelsea for a blood sample.  Along the way, I saw this bike parked outside Radio City Music Hall:



Yes, it's a Mercian Vincitore.  Check out the head lugs:




OK, so the pants band blocks the lower head lug.  But what you see on the top lug is a fine example of Mercian's work.


The color is an indigo-ish purple.  The seat tube and head panels are a kind of light beige, with a tint of yellow. The owner/rider, it seems, decided to highlight the yellow  with the rims, pedals and handlebar tape.  While I'm not crazy about the "hipster fixie" touches,  I do like the overall look of the bike.  Plus, it's a Mercian, which by itself makes the bike interesting.

05 May 2011

Cinco de Mayo Bike Jam

In my time, I've cycled on pretty much every holiday you can think of, including ones I never celebrated.  For that matter, I've probably cycled on holidays without even knowing it.

I'd guess that, in most years, I've ridden on Cinco de Mayo, whether it was a weekend day ride or simply a commute to work, as I did today.  But I never did a ride like this:




I suppose that's about as appropriate a ride as any for this fete.  This ride was scheduled for today in--where else?--Texas.  It was in Austin, to be precise.  If I'm not mistaken, that's Lance Armstrong's hometown.


I wonder whether he ever did a ride like that.  BMX is one of the few kinds of riding I've never done, mainly because I was a bit old for it by the time it came along.  That, and bicycle polo.  But who'd play a game of bicycle polo on Cinco de Mayo?   I would, just because "bicycle polo on Cinco de Mayo" has a nice ring to it, verdad?  (I couldn't type an upside-down question mark before "verdad.")  


Anyway...Did you do a ride to commemorate this day?  Or did you just do a ride and eat Mexican food afterward?  Actually, that's what I did.  And I washed it down with a "virgin" margarita. That's how I reward myself for doing something I enjoy.  Es una buena vida, verdad?



04 May 2011

A Bike I'll Own For Two Weeks

I wasn't going to mention this.  But if you've been following this blogs, you're probably curious about the bikes that come my way.

Here's something I bought--albeit very cheaply--on impulse:


It's a Bridgestone MB-6 from, what I can tell, 1994.  That would make it one of the last Bridgestones to be imported to this country.  In the mid-1990's, the dollar lost a lot of value against the yen, which caused Bridgestone, along with Japanese bike makers,to cease their operations in the US.





I debated whether to keep it or sell it.  If I were to do the latter, I could almost certainly make a decent profit, given how little I paid for the bike and the fact that some cyclists and collectors seek out Bridgestones.  Plus, the bike is in excellent condition.  I don't think it was ridden much.  Or, it may have been ridden a lot for a season or two, then stored.    From what I can see, all of the equipment is original.  And there are a couple of large scratches, but the paint is in excellent condition overall.  It's a dark metallic blue with a slight tinge of purple--something like the color of the Velo Orange mixte frame.



After some careful consideration--keep or sell--I decided to do...neither.  No, I'm not being indecisive again.  Rather, I decided to take a third course of action.  

Some of you may have already figured out what I'm doing:  I'm donating the bike. In a previous post,  I mentioned a program in Westchester County that helps immigrants.  They actually have a bicycle workshop where they repair and refurbish donated bicycles that are given to the immigrants, mainly young men, who use them for transportation.



Actually, as I understand, the bikes are used as rewards for completing other tasks and taking English classes.  That made the idea of donating this Bridgestone even more appealing:  Whoever ends up with it will be getting a really good bike, but will have merited it in some way. So, I hope, that person will appreciate it.

I mean, I feel better about donating something I might have used myself.  Better yet, it's a bike I might have--say, when I first started riding off-road--bought with money I earned.  So I don't feel like I'm merely "getting rid" of the bike. 

On Tuesday, I'm going to bring it to work, where my co-worker who volunteers with the program will pick it up and give me a receipt. 

After Work: Following The Darling Buds Of May

Last night, after work, I rode to Fort Totten. It's become one of my favorite places to "decompress" because of scenes like this:  




At the end of a sunny day that warmed up considerably, clouds gathered at the end of the day.  Still, I find the view rather striking.  Steel suspension bridges are great for that:  they glow in the rays of the setting sun as well as they reflect the grays and blues of the bay and sky.


Apparently, other people felt the same way:




This place even seems to calm down my bikes.  All right, I don't think Helene has been there yet.  Her turn is coming.  Arielle and Tosca feel peaceful yet energized by that place; Marianela likes it after carting me and my books at the end of the day:




She leadeth me beside the still waters...All right, I won't blaspheme something some of you may still revere.  Besides, the waters weren't exactly still.  She didn't lead me down a straight and narrow path, either.  (Now tell me:  You didn't think I did straight and narrow, did you?)  What she led me to, instead, was a trail of the darling buds of May:






I'm greatly relieved that they're not rose petals.  Love would be great right about now.  Marriage, not so much.  Besides, as curious as I am, I don't follow every trail I encounter. I guess that's one of those things that happens when you get older.


I'm happy that they're the buds of cherry blossoms.  It seems that there are more of those trees in this city's parks and in front of people's houses every year.  I've always loved them; few things say "spring!" more than that bright pink color.  I don't remember seeing them when I was a kid:  Is the planting of them in this city and country a recent phenomenon?


Anyway...I followed that trail of petals.  They led me home.  And I fell into a very restorative sleep.

02 May 2011

Is It Still A Boardwalk?

Yesterday, before meeting Avi and Jesse (the guys who were riding "stacked" bicycles), I'd ridden along the Rockaway Boardwalk.  That is normally part of my trek to and from Point Lookout.  However, part of it was closed because it was being reconstructed.


The past couple of years, and this past winter in particular, have not been kind to the boardwalk.  Many of the wooden slats were rotting away or had grown brittle even before the bad weather, and it seems that we've had more coastal storms during the past two or three years than at any other time I can recall.  

I guess the city's Parks Department saw how much hard wood costs these days and decided to use concrete instead. I'm guessing that it will hold up to the elements better or, at least, won't splinter and rot the way wood does.  

Some cyclists might actually prefer the smoother concrete surface.  But there's still a part of me that likes the clackety-clack of my tires across those boards.

Romantic notions of seaside rambles aside, there is one very good, practical reason not to like the new concrete slabs:


There is a section of the eastern part of the boardwalk, near Far Rockaway, where the work is complete and the concrete boardwalk is open.  There are two gaps, as large as the one in this photo, that run along the length of the walk.  

Of course, it's a good thing that there are only two such gaps, as opposed to the dozens of spaces between the wooden boards.  On the other hand, the gaps between these concrete slabs are much wider than the ones between the wooden boards, and are thus more likely to catch a bicycle wheel.  Plus, falling on concrete is more painful than falling on wood--assuming, of course, that you don't get splinters.

Even though I'm not so crazy about the aesthetics of the concrete walk and worried about the gaps, I'll reserve my judgment until I've ridden the concrete at least a few times.

Still, I must ask:  If it's made of concrete slabs, can we still call it a boardwalk?

01 May 2011

Reaching For The Skies On Our Bikes

Twice I have pedaled through clouds and once, when looking into the horizon, I saw a jet cruising at an altitude a few hundred feet lower than the peak I had just ascended on my bike.


So, as you can imagine, I have respect for Avi and Jesse:




They were riding down a side street near the boardwalk in Long Beach, on the South Shore of Nassau County.  They had just ridden on that boardwalk, as I would soon afterward.  




Avi, who's in this photo, and Jesse are members of a hardcore-punkish-funkish band called White Goblin.  As if that isn't enough to make realize how middle-aged and bourgeois I am, they said they've been to nearly every Critical Mass ride for the past ten years or so.  


They--especially Avi--are very engaging, and that is almost reason enough to go to their next performance.  I wonder whether they'll go to it on the bikes they rode today:




They built their two-story bikes from a variety of frames and parts.  They even did their own welding.  It's not the most elegant work, but I give them "props" for it. After all, I've never welded anything.  


And, yes, Jesse was riding in his bare feet.


Perhaps that's not as shocking as the three-high bike he told me he built, or the double-decker tandem (made from two tandems) Avi says he made.

For these guys, a Pedersen would be a "comfort" bike.



They expressed as much admiration for Arielle as I did for their bikes.  


Then it was off to Point Lookout, for my first ride there this year. 






And Arielle soaked up the rays:



29 April 2011

Motorists With Spring Fever

Today was one of those spring days when the wind, brisk as it was, felt like a form of light and the mild, almost warm, air held nary a hint that there could be strife in this world.


We, as cyclists, live for days like this.  Actually, I can't think of anyone who wouldn't look forward to such a day.

But every year, on the first definitively Spring day (as opposed to the first day with spring-like weather), some people lose their grip on themselves, especially when they're driving.  Some might be young and have just fallen in love; others simply are intoxicated, perhaps. 



So, along with the lovely weather came some absolutely crazy drivers.  You know the kind I mean: the ones who cut across lanes and make turns without signalling, or simply don't pay attention to the road ahead or beside them.  Or the ones that drive close enough to you to scrape the crochet backing off your gloves and let their dogs bark, drool or chomp out of the back windows. "Awww...isn't he the cutest thing you ever saw..."


I think that such weather, and the beginning of spring,  coming later than usual affets people, including me, in all sorts  of ways.  Sometimes it's fun, but when someone cuts across the lanes, not so much


Oh well.  I made it home from work.  And tomorrow we  will have more l

28 April 2011

Kneecapped by Walmart?





It's a conspiracy, I tell ya.  The other night, my flight from Atlanta was delayed by almost three hours.  So I got home late Monday night and didn't feel like doing much of anything. (When I go to my parents', I usually fly to Atlanta, then to one of the NY Metro area airports.)  

Then, last night, I didn't have any internet connection.



Ya no, I got to thinkin' that Sam Wall himself was behind everything.  Mr. Wall, I'm sorry about all of those terrible things I said about your fine retail establishment.  I will never, ever use the name "Wal-Mart" in the perjorative, ever again.  Yes, I promise (as I use Catholic school birth control, a.k.a., I cross my fingers).


So now you think I'm a conspiracy theorist.  Well, not really.  I haven't said anything bad about Obama since he showed his birth certificate.  (All right, I never was a "birther.")  But sometimes I think certain people-- e.g., certain retail plutocrats--have it in for me.  Or could it be that the gods of something are angry--or crazy?


And I haven't done any cycling since I got home.  Something's afoot, and it ain't my old Detto Pietro shoes with TA Anquetil cleats (the kind that nailed onto the sole).  






I know.  I'll get to ride again.  At my age, I should know that.  Still, I worry that I'll lose this spring, the way I lost most of last spring.  Well, not quite:  Last spring, I had infections and other illnesses.  At least this year, my excuses are Life and the weather.  (For a few moments just after noon, the sky grew ominously dark and  I thought we might see another tornado here in NYC.)


At least for the last couple of days I had memories of a couple of pleasant, if short, rides from my parents' house.