When I Was A Guinea Pig: Riding An Early Cannondale

Today I am going to reveal one of my dim, dark secrets.  Yes, even at this late date, I still have them.

Here goes:  I actually owned--gasp!--a Cannondale racing bike.  One of the very first ones, in fact. 

One might say it was one of my youthful follies. The year was 1984.  I was working for American Youth Hostels. Back then, the organization was located on Spring Street, near Wooster, when the neighborhood (Soho) still had some halfway interesting art galleries and eccentric stores and cafes.  At that time, AYH had an store and mail-order service that sold bicycling, camping, hiking and other outdoor equipment.

Back then, Cannondale was known mainly for its bags and outdoor wear. Their bike bags were actually well-made and reasonably priced:  I used a few in my time. And I used one of their backpacks for the longest time.  AYH employees were able to buy Cannondale goods at their wholesale prices.

So I became, in essence, a guinea pig.  I bought their original model racing bike, with a full Campagnolo Nuovo Record component grouppo, for something like $500. 

It was one of the first--and last--times I succumbed to the urge to be the "first kid on the block" with some new item. 

The photo doesn't do justice to just how ugly that bike actually was.  The welds were cobbly; later Cannondales have the smooth joints you see on today's models.  Plus, the oversized aluminum tubes were very in-your-face, especially if you were used to steel-tubed frames. 

Being a snot-nosed kid with something to prove, getting such a bike wasn't enough for me. I wanted to be really badass, so I got it in black. I don't remember what kind or color bar tape came with it; whatever it was, I replaced it with red Benotto cellophane tape. And, I got cable housings to match.

Aside from its proportions, another thing that struck me was how much lighter the bike was than others I'd ridden.  Also, it was--as advertised--the stiffest bike I'd ridden up to that time. Maybe it's still the stiffest bike I've ever ridden.

What that meant is that the bike could go very fast. However, it also meant that it rode like a jackhammer.  Even my young, sevelte self felt beat-up after a ride on it.  I think that it actually slowed me down, ultimately:  I can ride only so hard or so long when every bone in my body is aching.

A few people swore by those bikes.  It's hard to imagine that anything Cannondale--or any other bike maker, for that matter--has made since then could be any stiffer.

Those early Cannondales came with CroMo steel forks--Tange, I think. I'd ridden the bike for close to a year when those forks were recalled.  After I got my replacement, I stripped the Campagnolo components off  the bike and replaced them with other stuff I had lying around or that mechanics of my acquaintance filched fetched from their shops' parts bins.  And I gave that Cannondale to my landlord for a month's rent.

Those Campy components went on to bigger and better things (ha!) I'll describe in another post.

Note:  The frame in the photo is larger than the one I had.  Plus, it has different components. 

In The Beginning (Of The Season)

It may not officially be Spring.  Not yet, anyway.  But even with the mild weather we've had yesterday and today, it feels like the beginning of spring.

Or, could it be that riding just felt so good?  Yestersday I took one of the first seashore rides I've done in a while.  One thing about such a ride early in the spring (or on a mild day at the end of winter) is that you know that you're approaching the water because it's noticeably colder.  You see, even though the temperature neared 60F yesterday and 70F today, I don't think the ocean temperature has reached 40F yet.  So, a maritime breeze--let alone a wind--will let you know that you've underdressed, even if the sun feels good on your skin.

But the real essence of a first-of-spring ride is, for me, the feeling of emerging from a cocoon or a shell.  Of course, that might mean an ache or two if I ride a little harder or longer than I'd ridden during the winter.  But, still, it's an energetic feeling--or, more precisely, one of emergence, like a flower groping its way up from the barren earth.

In the spirit of the first of spring, I want to pay homage to someone who's been an inspiration to me over the past couple of years.  In that spirit, here is a "first ride of spring" photo from one of my favorite bloggers:

Velouria, I mean no disrespect or condescension when I say that this photo of you made me think, not only of the first of spring, but of evolution.  After all, according to Darwin's theory (and Genesis, for that matter), all life began in the sea.  So, in a real sense, cycling begins in the sea, or at the water's edge, at any rate. 

As it happens, her blog--Lovely Bicycle!--began in the Spring three years ago.  Coincidence?

Pink Bicycle Springs Ahead

Here's a friendly reminder to "Spring Ahead" for Daylight Savings Time:

Pink Bicycle With Springs, by Neil Heeney

This photo comes from Neil Heeney's photostream.  

Riding Across The Sea?

When I was a teenager, I went to Universal Studios in California.  One of the things I still remember about the visit is riding the tourist trolley through the "Red Sea."  Of course, I'm not talking about the body of water that separates Africa from the Arabian Peninsula.  What "parted" in front of me was the re-creation of it that was used in The Ten Commandments.


Because of the movie, which my family and I watched every year (If I recall correctly, it always aired on Good Friday.), whenever I hear or read the name "Moses", I think of Charlton Heston.  Having the "sea" part in front of me without the aid of Mr. Heston left me with an even crazier idea:  If I could part the Atlantic, I could ride to France and Italy.  


Of course, even if the logistics of parting the sea could be solved, there would be other issues.  The distance from New York to France or Italy (or England, Portugal or Spain) would be roughly the same as the distance from New York to California.  However, when you cross the country, there are all sorts of things to see and, more important, places to stop and eat,sleep, wash and take care of other needs.  Somehow I don't think such amenities would be available on a trans-Atlantic crossing.  And, as much as I love water, I'm not sure of how I'd feel about seeing nothing else at least until I got to the Azores (assuming, of course, my route went that way).


Now, having cycled in Europe several times, I'm not quite as taken with the idea of a trans-Atlantic bike ride as I once was.  (Also, I am older and, I would like to believe, have a firmer grip on reality.)  Still, if it were possible to do such a ride, I just might try it.


Maybe that's what the young man in this video had in mind:

Enforcing The Law Without Knowing It

The New York Police Department (NYPD) is notorious for its capricious enforcement of traffic rules.  What's even worse is that too many officers don't know what the rules are for cyclists.

Evan Neuman found that out the hard way.  He was cycling up Allen Street in Manhattan's Lower East Side when a cop pulled up and ticketed him for not using the bike lane on that street.

Allen Street Bike Lane, New York City

The thing is, he had been riding on the Allen Street bike lane.  He left it to make a turn onto Ludlow Street.  He got his ticket shortly afterward.

New York State law requires that cyclists ride in bike lanes when they're available.  It also stipulates that we can't ride on the left side of the road (against traffic) or more than two abreast.  A number of New York City cyclists have been ticketed for alleged violations of this law. However, these laws (like many State laws) do not apply in New York City.

Instead, the New York City code says the following: Whenever a usable path or lane for bicycles has been provided, bicycle riders shall use such path or lane except under the following conditions:  (i) when preparing for a turn at an intersection or into a private road or driveway, (ii) when reasonably necessary to avoid conditions (including, but not limited to, fixed or moving objects, motor vehicles, bicycles, pedestrians, pushcarts, animals, surface hazards) that make it unsafe to continue within such path or lane.  

My guess is that many police officers--and members of the general public--believe that cyclists must use the lanes, no matter what.  That may well have been the case of the one who ticketed Evan Neuman.  However, given that a fair number of "New York's Finest" patrol on bicycles, I would expect them to be more familiar with the law.  


Neuman has fought the ticket.  So far, he's lost in Traffic Court and a Department of Motor Vehicles appeals board has rejected his appeal.  Now he's filed a motion in State Supreme Court to have the ticket dismissed.

They Weren't Wearing Bike Outfits

On my way home tonight, three guys stumbled off a curb and nearly tumbled in front of my wheel.  I would have cursed at them, but they were dressed in very gaudy outfits that were somewhere between robes and dresses.  And they wore wigs, or what looked like wigs.


Instead of yelling at them, I thought, "Hmm...They look like they're doing a Chasidic version of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.  Or maybe La Cage Aux Folles. The loud but lilting music that echoed off the houses made it seem even more like a campy drag revue.


Turns out, I wasn't too far off.  At sundown, a couple of hours before I left work, the feast of Purim began.  Some people refer to it as "The Jewish Mardi Gras," which also isn't too far off.  


It commemorates the deliverance of the Jewish people from destruction in the ancient Persian Empire.  Hamman, a high-ranking advisor to King Ahaseurus, conceived of the plot, which is revealed to the king by Esther, who became his favorite concubine and, finally, his wife. Until the moment she tipped the king off, she did not reveal her Jewish identity.


It's a complicated but fascinating story, which is related in the Magillat Esther, the only book of the Torah in which G-d* isn't mentioned by name.  However, everything about the story, including Esther's concealment of her identity, shows G-d working in mysterious ways and in various guises.


That is one of the reasons why people wear costumes for the feast and it is the only day on which the prohibition against men wearing women's clothing is not observed.  


Hmm...Imagine if I'd run one of those guys over.  Can you just see the next day's New York Post headline:   Wrong Place, Wrong Time or Wrong Clothes:  Chasidim Dragged Under Tranny's Wheel.  Or something like that.




* I am using the name of G-d in the way an Orthodox or Chasidic Jew would.

Before Nashbar

Ou sont les neiges d'antan?

If you've seen "The Glass Menagerie," you might recall seeing "Ou sont les neiges" projected on the stage.  It's comes from a line in Francois Villon's Ballade des Temps du Temps Jadis (A Ballad of Ladies of Times Past), which is part of his Testament.

When you're around anything long enough, you might start to wonder where its "snows of yesteryear" have gone.  There is the bike on which you took a particularly memorable or important ride, or some part or accessory you liked but hasn't been available in ages.  

Also, as in any other endeavor, some cyclists miss the old catalogues and brochures.  Sometimes people think everything was better in the "good ol' days"; the truth is, the forgettable stuff is mainly, well, forgotten.  But it's hard to deny that some things had a style that simply can't be emulated (without seeming to be a parody, anyway) today.

A while back, Bike Snob wrote a post in which he said, in essence, that even if the world were to end and you were in an underground bunker, a Nashbar catalogue will find its way to you. Of course, he was being his snarky self, but we all know that snark works only when there's at least an element of truth in it.

Believe it or not, I can remember a time when Bike Nashbar catalogues weren't as difficult to evade as bill collectors or Inspector Javert.  In fact, in those days, the catalogues, and the company itself were very different.

For one thing, it was called Bike Warehouse.

They indeed offered some of the lowest prices on bike-related stuff, as they do now. However, in those days, they sold mainly current-model, high- (or higher-) end equipment, such as Campagnolo Nuovo Record components, SunTour Cyclone derailleurs and rims from Super Champion, Mavic and others.  

If I recall correctly, Bike Warehouse was the first mail-order company from which I purchased any cycling equipment.   I had just begun reading Bicycling! magazine on a regular basis, and Bike Warehouse advertised in it. Like many other people, I was drawn in by their selection and prices.  

Plus, believe it or not, they had a particular kind of quirky charm that you don't see today. 

 This page comes from one of their 1976 catalogues.  By then, they'd been in business a couple of years.  Even if I didn't give you a year, you probably could have guessed the era from which it came by its graphics. Actually, those graphics were even a bit dated by that time.

There is one aspect of that catalogue that added to its quirky charms but which, alas, I cannot render on this site.  You see, those early Bike Warehouse catalogues were printed on newsprint.  Almost no newspapers in those days had color, as the technology was prohibitively expensive.  So those early Bike Warehouse catalogues had all of the black-and-white glory of a pre-WWII film.

As the saying goes:  Ils ne font pas comme eux pas plus.

Bike Lanes Don't Make People Ride More

I have long suspected that the construction of bike paths and lanes has very little to do with how much cycling people actually do, at least here in the US.


Of course, my belief was based on nothing more than my own observations and experiences.  One thing I've always noticed is that racers and dedicated cyclists tend to ride whether or not there's a bike lane, or even a well-paved road that doesn't have much traffic.  (The latter category includes routes departmentales, on which I did much of my cycling in France.)  On the other hand, there are lots of people who say they'd "love" to ride to work or for pleasure, but feel that "it's too dangerous" or that it's inconvenient.  Such people never seem to be swayed--with good reason, I've come to realize--by the construction of a bike lane, even if it takes them door-to-door from their homes to their workplaces or wherever they shop or entertain themselves.


Don't get me wrong:  I appreciate the efforts of governments to improve conditions for cyclists.  As an example, I am very happy that lanes were constructed on the Queens side of the Edward I. Koch/Queensborough/59th Street Bridge. I often cross that bridge. Its entrance at Queens Plaza is also a conduit for traffic to and from the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway and Long Island Expressway. Getting to and from the Bridge could be, until the construction of the bike lane, a harrowing experience.


On the other hand, I've seen a lot of poorly-conceived and -constructed bike lanes that were actually more dangerous for cyclists than the nearby roadways.  Or, they simply went from nowhere to nowhere and were therefore not practical for any cyclist who actually had to go someplace.


To be fair, we have a lot of impractical bike lanes and paths in the US because we don't have the history of cycling that many European nations, Japan and other places have.  Or, to be more precise, our cycling history was interrupted for about three generations or so.  The result is that American transportation experts and urban planners are still learning things their French, Dutch, British, German and other counterparts have long known.


Funny that I should mention the Dutch.  They have long been seen as the avatars of bicycle commuting.  It's been a while since I've been to Amsterdam, but I'm told that one still sees bikes everywhere in that city.  In spite of the increasing numbers of Dutch who drive, the bicycle remains one of the, if not the, main means of transportation in that city.


I'm thinking about what I've just mentioned because I've stumbled over some studies that argue, in essence, that what's happened over the past two decades in Amsterdam parallels what I've seen in New York and other parts of the US.  That is to say:  Ridership has almost nothing to do with the construction of bike lanes and paths.


According to the studies cited, the (relatively small) increase in the number of cyclists over the past two decades has as much to do with the increase in population (fueled more by immigration than, shall we say, the noncycling recreational activities of the Dutch) as anything else. There has also been an increase, however slight, in the length of cyclists' commutes and the distances ridden for other purposes.  The authors of the studies in question argue that the increase really has had to do more with the warmer-than-normal weather in the Netherlands during that time than it's had to do with other factors.  


Of course, one can find flaws in that argument.  The most obvious is that other nearby countries (e.g., France) have also seen unusually warm weather, but no increases in cycling, during that time.  Also, whatever increases in population the Netherlands have seen are mainly a result of immigration from the Middle East, Africa, Indonesia and Suriname.  If anything, those immigrants are actually less likely, for a number of reasons, to ride bikes to work or weekend picnics than the descendants of longtime Dutch people.  


Still, the argument that bike lanes and paths have little or nothing to do with whatever increases in cycling or the number of cyclists are quite plausible, especially if you understand what motivates cyclists to ride.  One might say that there simply isn't that much room for cycling to grow in the Netherlands, which is one of the most bike-intensive nations on Earth.  There, even more than in other places, bike paths won't have much impact on who rides and doesn't ride, and when they ride and don't ride.  


Still, I think that those studies hold important lessons for American planners.  One is that simply constructing bike lanes isn't going to get people to forsake their cars and pedal to the Home Depot.  Rather, there has to be a cultural as well as a physical infrastructure that supports cycling as a practical alternative to driving. That is what the Dutch have long had and the US will need another generation or two to develop, if indeed such a thing will develop on this side of the Atlantic.

Real Bike Porn

Usually, when cyclists talk about "bike porn," we mean images of drop-dead beautiful bikes with sinuous lines and lustrous colors.


However, I discovered a site called "Bike Porn" in which the term takes on new meanings.  It doesn't have pictures of Paola Pezzo and Filippo Pozato  in non-cycling positions.  It's all about art.  Really.

On Our Heads

I'd been cycling about a decade when the issue of helmet-wearing became, as Cardinal Dolan might say, one of the "settled questions" of the cycling world.  By that time, even old-timers who'd been cycling--and, in some cases, wearing "leather hairnets"-- before I was born were wearing the "tortoise shells" that Bell and a couple of other companies made. 

I started thinking about those days when I saw this photo: 

We all know that the lovely young lady would be safer in a helmet.  But she certainly wouldn't look any better.  In fact, this might be one of the few times in my life that I speak in favor head scarves.  

Hmm...I don't know anything about Sharia law, so I don't know whether she could wear a helmet over her scarf.  Now I'm thinking about a guy with whom I used to train. He wore a helmet over his yarmulke; when I was "drafting" him, I could see the fringes of his tallit dangling below the hem of his jersey.

I wouldn't see anything wrong witht that young lady wearing a helmet, as long as its color doesn't clash with that of her scarf.  I don't know whether the imams would share my opinion, though.