Riders In The Storm?

Today I went for another ride with my new riding partner.  We got out later than we'd originally planned because she was summoned, at the last moment, to a second interview for a job that she really wants.  


As we did on our previous ride, we met at a little park with a big statue that stands almost exactly halfway between my place and hers.  And the clouds that covered the sky grew darker and thickened.  Times like that remind me of at least one of the reasons I cycle:  Somehow I manage, in such situations, to believe that the rain will hold off long enough for me to do my ride.  Or, sometimes I like to "play chicken with the rain," as if I could dare it. Some of the rides I've enjoyed most are the ones in which I "held off" the rain long enough to finish my ride, and the first drops fell just after I got home--or just before.


There have been times in my life in which those rides were the only occasions in which I could muster up any sort of optimism, much less the defiant kind that motivates me to "play chicken with the rain."  


Today we did get caught in the rain.  As a matter of fact, we got soaked by a sudden downpour.  As it was a warm day, I didn't mind; in fact, I rather like getting rained on during a summer ride.  On the other hand, she doesn't care much for riding in the rain, although she didn't complain.  


But we both agree that we're willing to take a chance on a heavily overcast day when there's a possibility of precipitation, although neither of us wants to start a ride in the rain.  I've ridden with people who went out and rode no matter the conditions, and with others (including a ride leader in a club to which I belonged) who literally wouldn't ride if there was a single cloud in the sky or the temperature was below 40 degrees F. 

How do you feel about riding in the rain?  Are you one of those riders who will go out even when an old guy with a long beard is gathering animals into a boat?  Or are you a rider who won't ride if there's even the slightest possiblity of rain? (If you are, what are you doing in the Northeast or Northwest?)  Or are you like me:  willing to chance that "stray" shower or the passing storm?

If You Build Your Bike In Italy from Reynolds Tubing, Name It After A French Town

Today I saw a listing for a Frejus bicycle that was made in "Torino, France."


I wrote to whoever listed the bike to correct his/her geography:  Torino--known in the English-speaking world as Turin-- is, of course, in Italy.


One of the ironies of that listing is that the town of Frejus is actually located in France.  Granted, it's not far from Italy and was, at different times in history, ruled not only by Italy, but also by several Italian city-states as well as the King of Sardinia and the Dukes of Savoie (Savoy).  


And it was part of the Roman Empire.  That is evident in the ampitheatre in middle of the town.  In fact, when I was there, I recall reading something (a brochure?  a plaque? a book, maybe?) that said it is the oldest surviving Roman ampitheatre, not to mention one of the  oldest surviving structures, in France.  There are also the remains of an acqueduct as well as a number of other Roman structures.


Perhaps they built chariots back then.  However, nothing that I've read in French, English or Italian indicates that any bicycle, or even any part for one, was ever produced there, though--it being in the south of France, after all--quite a few people ride bikes for recreation as well as transportation. Well, at least they were when I was there.

Even if we never rode or owned one, Frejus bicycles are special to cyclists of my generation or the one immediately before us.  As Sheldon Brown points out on his page, they were often ridden by the few active racers in the US during the Dark Ages of the sport in this country.  And it was one of the bikes of choice for relatively well-heeled enthusiasts in the early days of the Bike Boom.


Accounts vary as to their ride qualities. And, as pretty as many of them were, the workmanship was actually pretty mediocre, even on their best Campagnolo-equipped models. But, for many of us, they defined what an Italian racing bike was.


They were imported and sold by Tom Avenia, who was also one of the first importers of Campagnolo equipment.  I met him when he was a very, very old man.  (He lived to be about 95, if I'm not mistaken.)  Frail as he was, he still rode and could tell stories about the Six Day Races in Madison Square Garden during the 1930's (which would be the last most Americans would hear of bicycle racing for about another half-century) as well as his own participation in such races as the Somerville Classic.  I could see how the man all but singlehandedly kept the torch burning, or at least flickering, on his zeal alone.

And he rode a Frejus track bike, equipped with a front brake, nearly to the end of his life.

And, yes, he reminded me that Frejus is actually a town in France, even though the bikes were made in Italy--of Reynolds 531 tubing.

On A Bunch Of Strings

Have you ever come to the end of a workday feeling as if you'd carried the weight of the world on your shoulders?  


Well, all right, I didn't today.  And, truth be told, I never identified much with Atlas, even in my weight-lifting days.  I'd say that I identified more with Tiresias, though I could do without the blindness.  


Anyway, carrying the world on one's shoulders doesn't grab my fancy.  But suspending (or dangling) it on strings is fascinating (and pretty sexy, if you ask me). I think the people who design suspension bridges, and built certain kinds of boats, understood that:

I saw that "bridge" as I cycled through the World's Fair grounds on my way home.  Could they really be holding up those trees?  


Some kids think God works that way.  (At least, some of the kids I worked with twenty years ago thought so.)  And, I would suspect, more than a few adults think something like that, too, though in a less benevolent way than the kids see it.


So what were those strings supporting?  Well, I don't know whether they were actually supporting it, but they are attached to the skating rink in Flushing Meadow Park.  The rink is at one end of the park, which is probably as big as Manhattan's Central or Brooklyn's Prospect parks.  At the other end of the park is the Kissena Velodrome.


OK, there's my "string" to cycling.  I now feel I've rationalized the fact that this is in a cycling blog.  That's a huge weight off my shoulders! 

Easy-On, Easy-Off Carradice Bag

Today I'm going to tell you about one of the DIY projects I did over the past rainy weekend.


Since September, Marianela, my old LeTour III, has sported a Gyes Parkside saddle.  On the whole, I've been happy with it, and given that Brooks prices are rising again, it's a good value.


It's very similar to the Brooks B-66 and -67 saddles:  The dimensions and shape of the leather top are similar, and so are the coiled springs.  Another feature it shares with their English forebears is its bag loops:

They are almost triangular-shaped, with rectangular cutouts for bag straps.  The bag loops on the sportier Brooks and Gyes models are more slit-like.  Also, the bag loops on B-17s, Swallows and the Gyes models inspired by them are integral with the carriage plate that's riveted to the rear of the leather top.  However, on the Parkside the bag loops are inserted between the top plate and the springs, and everything is bolted together.  I believe the B-66, B-67 and Champion Flyer have the same, or at  least a similar arrangement.


I decided that I want to start using one of my Carradice saddlebags--a Nelson Longflap--for commuting.  It can hold lots of papers and books and a layer of clothing, not to mention my lunch--and still have room to spare.  Also, I'd like to use it if I ever start to carry a laptop with me to work because there's plenty of room for it with a sleeve, and even more protection.  Plus, I trust the quality and construction of the Nelson more than most bags of any type on the market.


(I'm sure the Zimbales are excellent bags, as Velouria and other bloggers have said. But Carradice can still be had for considerably less if you order from Wiggle in England. And, I've read good things about Acorn bags, but they're next to impossible to buy.)


But, as much as I love Carradice bags, I found their mounting system troublesome, at least for a commuter bike that's parked outside for long periods of time in a marginal neighborhood (where my main job is).  Peter White--and Carradice, I believe--recommend looping the attachment straps so that they buckle inside the bag.  That makes for a more stable and secure mount, as it allows the top of the bag to sit neaerly flush with the bag loops.  But it doesn't make for easy dismounting.


So what did I do?  Well, I unbolted the springs and bag loops from the rear plate on the Gyes.  And I substituted keyring clamps for the loops:

Notice the tabs at the top of those clamps.  I push them toward the saddle, which opens them.  And when I let go, they close very securely:

I simply looped the regular mounting straps a couple of times through rectangular coupler links.  I screwed down the clamps very tightly after treating the treads with blue Loctite. (I gave the undercarriage bolts the same treatment.)


And, instead of attaching the bottom of the bag to the seatpost with the provided strap, I looped an old toestrap onto the bag and around the front of the rear rack:

I'm still thinking of other ways to make that connection quick-release.  I didn't want to use a clamp like the ones I used on the saddle because I thought the bag could sway too much with the bag mounted on such a small point.  Looping the strap around the front of the rack makes it much more stabe.  Plus, toe straps have a roller and clamp that can be adjusted--or allow the strap to be removed--quickly.  I think it will work well: Today I was surprised at how quickly I could mount and dismount the bag.  And it remained remarkably stable as poor Marianela got bounced over some stretches of streets that were more like the Ho Chi Minh trail.


Oh, one more thing:  I figured out a way to attach a shoulder strap so I could carry the Nelson off my bike:

All of the Carradice bags I've seen--as well as a number of similar bags--have leather tabs like the one you see in the photo.  They're usually at or near the top of the bag, on the corners.  I got two heavy-duty keyrings from a local hardware store and looped them onto those tabs.  Those rings allowed me to clip a padded shoulder strap from EMS onto the bag.


If you want to do something like this with a B-17, you could probably attach those clamps to the seat bag loops with hose clamps.  Or you could attach those clamps to the rails of a saddle that doesn't have bag  loops.  


In a few weeks or months, I'll write a follow-up to let you know how this system is holding up.

From Ezra Pound to Waffles and Dinges

Rain and clouds and rain and mist and rain and clouds.


For two days, that's what we've had.  And it followed heat and smog and heat and smog that ended with a thunderstorm.


I got in a very short ride late today, along the waterfronts of Greenpoint, Long Island City and Astoria.  I picked up some chicken panang curry and steamed dumplings from an Asian reataurant near PS 1 and consumed them into the mist that was turning to dusk on the Long Island City pier.


Along the way, I saw something that put me in the mind of Ezra Pound's poetry:

Well, it doesn't really remind me of Ezra Pound's poetry.  But there is a connection.  I had the same reaction to seeing this bike that I did to reading Pound's work:  I thought, "All right, it's not my style.  But I kinda admire it."


I had to make no such qualification for my enjoyment of what I chased my Thai dinner with:

Tosca couldn't resist the aroma that wafted from it. Actually, I couldn't, but I was trying really, really hard to show that indulging myself wasn't entirely my fault.  (Ah, guilt.  We never get over it, do we?)  


You're looking at the Waffles and Dinges truck, which just happened to be at the pier. I had their waffles and ice cream once before, and loved it. So I was happy to see them again.  And the guy and woman on the truck remembered me!


Through this weekend's rain, I did a bit of bike-related tinkering.  I'll tell you more about that in a near-future post.

What Would They Make Of Us?

Whenever I see a public statue of some historical figure, I wonder what someone from another planet, or another galaxy, would think of it.  I find myself asking that question even more when the statue is of a famous person--usually a military or political figure--on a horse.  To me, horses almost always look noble, which may be the reason why warriors seem even more belligerent astride them.


Now that I think of it, I haven't seen very many statues of people riding bicycles.  I've seen a fair number of paintings, drawings and photos of cyclists.  But I definitely can't remember the last time I saw a public statue of anyone on a bicycle.


They could be very interesting. What would our friend from another part of the universe think about if he or she were to see a statue of Lance or Eddy or Jacques pedaling up an Alpine virage or a Pyreneean pass?  Or, what would our visitor make of a sculpture of someone like John Rakowski or Ian Hibbell on the pannier-laden bikes they rode around the world?

Maclean Featherweight

I only see porn when I stumble over it while looking for other things.  Really, I swear, it's true.


That includes bike porn.  All right, maybe this isn't quite bike porn:  It's actually quite dignified.  But pretty nonetheless:

It's a Maclean Featherweight from 1950.  Don Maclean formed his namesake company during the 1920's and employed several builders.  Apparently, they built frames and bikes for about 40 years, until they were bought up by the Holdsworthy company.

You can look at some more photos of this bike here.  Enjoy!

Advice from Brian May

If you're of my generation--or a Queen fan (Come on, admit it, you loved Night At The Opera!)--you surely remember the Brian May song Fat Bottomed Girls.

Even though the song was recorded more than 30 years ago, it remains one of the few to celebrate those of us who aren't built like fashion models. 

If you remember the song, good for you. If not, listen to it.  And note that line:  GET ON YOUR BIKES AND RIDE!

Would that Brian May weren't the only one giving that advice.  I did find this entry on Women's Cycling.ca encouraging us to do just that.  (The photo came from that site.)  However, I find that as the cycling industry is taking more of its cues from the mass media, the cyclists portrayed in advertising, videos and films about cycling,  seem to be more and more like those you see in ads for gyms and J.Crew.

And some bike shops perpetrate the bias against avoirdupois.  One day, in the last shop in which I worked, a woman who was (at least by most standards I'm familiar with) at least seventy-five pounds "overweight" came in.  She had been very athletic all through college, she said, but the detours of her life had taken her away from exercise and good eating habits.  Plus, after a surgery she needed following an auto accident, her doctor prescribed a medicine with steroids in it, which put additional weight on her.

She wanted to get back in shape, but because of knee and other injuries, her doctor (who cycled and played tennis, if I recall correctly), advised her not to run or play basketball.  Rather, he recommended cycling--an activity she once enjoyed--because it would put less strain on her damaged joints and ligaments.  So, she said, she was looking to buy a bike.

One of the sales people in that shop told her she should come back to the shop after losing weight. 

I felt badly for that woman, but I did nothing to help her. I hadn't thought about her in some time, and I've related the story as best as I can remember it.  

Did you notice that near the beginning of this post, I wrote, "those of us who aren't built like fashion models."  Yes, I include myself.  Of course, when I was training as if I were going to enter the Tour de France for 40-and-older riders, I woulnd't have said anything like that about myself.  Granted, I was trimmer and had more strength.  But almost no one has the same sort of body in middle age as he or she had when young. (Trust me:  I know that as well as anybody can!)  Sometimes it has to do with life taking the turns I've mentioned; it also has to do with the way our bodies age.  Also, in my case, taking hormones added a few pounds to the ones I was already gaining by other means.

And,  let's face it, most people aren't born to be a perfect size four.  (I'm talking about dresses, not Euro racing kit! In my prime, I wore a size three.)  So why should that bar any of us from cycling?  Is there any law that cyclists have to be, as one New Yorker columnist put it, "lycra sausages"?

A Cool Idea?

According to the weather reports, we have a major heat wave coming our way.  Today was warm and humid, but the weather had been either one or the other, but not both, for the past few days.


This has been one of those years "without a spring."  Or so it's seemed.  We had chilly and wet weather for much of March, April and May.  In fact, we had so much wet weather that it became difficult to open and close doors because the wood in and around them swelled.

Artist's rendition of proposed air-cooled bike path in Qatar.

I remember reading that there were plans to build an air-cooled bicycle path in Qatar.  I wonder if anything has become of them.  Can you imagine something like that along Fifth Avenue?

Being Avant-Garde, After A Fashion

As some of you might recall, a couple of weeks ago I sold a few things after doing some very late "spring cleaning."  Thanks to a posting on this blog (which I've since removed) and an announcement on a discussion group, I was able to sell my stuff without going to the dreaded Craig's List or,egad, eBay.


However, I did scroll through listings on both of those sites.  On eBay, I saw a couple of things that appeal mainly to people with more money than miles on their bikes.

You simply have to get a pair of wheels to match your Louis Vuitton purse--or, better yet, your LV custom saddlebag and handlebar wrap:

I can almost see some Japanese tourist in Paris, circa 1985, with these wheels.  


The person selling them claimed that they came with a bike he bought and they  weren't his style.  Apart from the graphics on the rims, I thought the spoke patterns and colors were also wild:  black radials on the front, alternating red and white, laced two cross, on the rear.    I'd like to see the bike that came with these wheels.


The cyclist in me wonders why the rear hub is a Phil Wood but the front is a Formula. I ride three pairs of wheels with Phils and one pair with Formula.  While I can't think of a better hub than Phil's, I think that Formula is a great hub for the money.  But--perhaps this isn't apparent in the photos--the style of each of them is very different and I wonder why someone who was apparently trying to coordinate everything visually would so mix the hubs.  As a practical matter, the mix actually makes some sense:  The quality of the rear is more critical than that of the front, and whoever built those wheels saved a bit of money on the front.


As you may have guessed, the rims were made by Velocity.  I wonder whether it's some sort of special edition, and for how long they will be made.  After all, I have to get a pair and build them when I have some money! ;-)


To be fair, Velocity is the only brand of rim besides Mavic I would use on a pair of wheels I were building, or having built--unless, of course, I were building in a size not made by either of those two companies.  Sun rims, I've found, are strong and are usually good values for the money. But they are considerably more difficult to build and true than Mavic or Velocity rims.


They should paint this next item to coordinate with the wheels:

After all, if you're going to get aerodynamic rims, you need an aerodynamic bell to go with it, n'est-ce pas?  And not any old aerodynamic bell:  It absolutely must be titanium, like this one.  A couple of years ago, I would've said that titanium is, like, soooo 1996. But, as I understand, this year stuff from the fin de siecle is going to be all hip and retro.  But just in case you're a year too early, remember to get the bell painted white and stenciled with Monsieur Louis' "V's."