A Woman's Life In Pumps

When I first started to take long bike rides as a teenager, most portable pumps looked something like this:

Now, if you're doing a period-correct restoration of a French 10-speed, this is the pump you want.  As pumps of that time went, it wasn't bad.  However, hoses that screw onto the pump body almost always leak air.  Even worse, the hoses screwed onto the valves, which leaked even more air, especially if they were Schraeder valves.

Silca Impero. It was available in a wide range of sizes--and, most important(!), a rainbow of colors.

Other pumps available at the time had press-on fittings.  If you've ever seen a Silca Impero or Zefal Competition (Think of the HP or HPX without the thumb-lock fitting.), those worked fine, as long as you had Presta valves and the rubber ring inside the pump fitting wasn't worn or cracked:  the connection depended on the tightness of that seal.

Zefal Competition:  Pour la gloire!

Not long after I first became a dedicated cyclist, Zefal came out with its HP pump.

Zefal HP from 1970's or 1980's

I think it's one of the more attractive pumps that's ever been made.  More important (yes, really!), they were solidly built and had a thumb lock that could be switched between Presta and Schrader valves, and gave an all-but-airtight connection with either one.  

Some years later, Zefal improved upon it with their HPX pump.  It was the same as the HP, except that the handle had a cam that could be twisted to lock out the spring, which allowed more of the force you used to actually go into pumping the tire.  

Zefal HPX from 1980's or later

The only problem with them (as far as some of us are concerned, anyway) was that they were all black.  Now, some black components and accessories look good on certain bikes.  The Zefal HPX was one of those accessories. However, if you had a bike with anything like a classic or vintage look, the HPX seemed out of place.  

For a time, they were offered in white and a couple of other colors, but not in silver or chrome.

Topeak came out with a frame pump--the Master Blaster--that was functionally all but a clone of the HPX.  It was also made in a tasteful muted silver with gray handles.  I have a couple of them.  They seem well-built, although perhaps not quite as well-built as the Zefals.

Topeak Master Blaster

I wrecked one of mine in a clumsy moment.  So, when I looked for a replacement, I found out that Zefal is making--in France, where all Zefal pumps have been made--the "HPX Classic."

The Zefal HPX Classic

Mechanically, it's exactly the same as the HPX.  However, as you can see, it would look more appropriate on vintage- or vintage-inspired bikes than the HPX or even the Topeak.  It's sort of a modern take on the old "Tricolore" Zefal Competition.

I've used the new pump once:  It pumps as easily as the HPX,and far more easily on high-pressure tires than any mini-pump I've tried.  (For the record, I still carry a mini-pump when I commute, as I can easily stow it in a bag when I park my bike. Also, it pumps enough air for me to ride to the next bike shop or gas station.)  Plus, it looks just right on my Mercians.

Getting the HPX classic is a bit like reuniting with an old friend.  And, if you don't like the logo, it's easily erased with nail polish remover.

718

This is post #718 of Midlife Cycling.

That number just happens to be the Area Code of Queens, where I have lived for a decade.

So I thought it appropriate to make this post an homage to cycling in the Borough of Homes.

Here's an image from the Queens stretch of the Five Borough Bike Tour, which passes just a few blocks from my apartment:

Of course, I can't write a post like this without including an image from Kissena Velodrome, the "Track of Dreams".

And, pardon me if this seems immodest, but I simply had to include an image from one of my early posts:

And, finally, no Midlife Cycling post about cycling in the 718 area code would be complete without a photo in Socrates Sculpture Park--directly across the East River from Roosevelt Island and Manhattan's Upper East Side--taken by none other than Velouria (of Lovely Bicycle fame), who inspired me to start this blog in the first place:

Lance's Offenses: Neither The First Nor The Last

Tonight I saw the 60 Minutes segment on Lance Armstrong.  I don't think I learned anything new from it.  Then again, I didn't expect to.

I'm not going to debate about the genuineness of Lance's confession or whether he doped in the last two Tours he wrote.  It's all getting tiresome, really.  Call me a cynic, but I don't think anyone--the investigators, Lance's teammates or Lance himself--is telling everything he knows.  And anytime Lance or anyone else is accused of doping, someone will say, "Well, everybody was doing it."  Be that as it may, the affair is a mess.

All right, I'll say one more thing before I get to what prompted me to write this post.  Lance and certain other people, of course, have an interest in his being cleared of the accusations and lifting the ban on his competing.  On the other hand, if Lance was indeed doping and did, in fact, make his teammates take the same drugs he was taking and threatened anyone who wouldn't, or who spoke of it, then there were also people who had a vested interest in denying it, or simply looking the other way.  Yes, I'm talking about UCI officials, among other people.  They were probably looking at Lance as a ticket to the American market.

Anyway, what I now find far more interesting than the question of whether Lance doped or not is the degree to which he controlled the Tour, and much of the racing scene.  One rider--Tyler Hamilton, I believe--said, in essence, that what Lance wanted, Lance got.  He was well-connected and, according to some riders, if you didn't go along with him, you could be essentially run out of the sport.

It got me to thinking about the ways in which a few athletes manage to control a competition, and not only with their athletic domination.  It's long been suspected in cycling and other sports that a few top-flight competitors conspire with each other to control the outcome of contests.  

It's not hard to imagine in a sport that's as individualistic as cycling.  In stage races like the Tour, teams compete, to be sure, but most people watch the races to see the performance of individual riders.  (Probably the only team sport about which the same thing could be said is basketball:  There were a lot more fans of Michael Jordan than the Chicago Bulls, for example.)  Track events and time trials usually pit individual riders against each other, so it's easy to think that there are conspiracies.  

Velodrome d'Hiver

In fact, collusion was very commonly attributed to the races at the old Velodrome d'Hiver in Paris.  Of them, journalist Pierre Chaney wrote:

There was a lot of talk about the relative honesty of the results, and journalists sometimes asked themselves what importance they ought to place on victories in these six-day races. The best of the field combined between themselves, it was known, to fight against other teams and to get their own hands on the biggest prizes, which they then shared between them. This coalition, cruelly nicknamed the Blue Train [after a luxury rail service patronised by the rich] imposed its rule and sometimes even the times of the race, the length of the rest periods. The little teams fought back on certain days but, generally, the law belonged to the cracks, better equipped physically and often better organised.

Chaney was writing about races during the 1920's. One could be forgiven for thinking that there is indeed "nothing new under the sun" and that whatever Lance's offenses were, they were neither the first nor the last, neither the beginning nor the end.

From Brazil To Florida: Fragmentos do Cotidiano

Today I'm going to plug another blog I enjoy:  Fragmentos do Cotidiano.  It's a cyclists' blog, but it's also interesting for the photographs and stories of daily life in Brazil.  It's in Portuguese, which I can more or less understand because I can read Spanish and French.  But even if you can't do that, the photos are worth looking at.

Here's one that reminded me of cycling in Florida:

From Fragmentos do Cotidiano

I couldn't get over how much the layout of that bike lane, and that intersection, reminds me of the ones nearest my parents' house.  The trees and sky also look like what I often see when I'm in the Sunshine State.

And the light is very much like what I'd see on a partly cloudy-to-overcast day when I rode down Palm Coast Parkway to the bridge for US A-1A.  Some things are universal, I guess.

More Of A '70's Craze

Having come of age in the '70's, I can tell you that a lot of things about that time were goofy.  At least, they seem that way now.  I'm talking about the hair styles, clothing, EST and, of course, disco.

Then there was drillium.  Every component manufacturer voided their warranties if owners cut or drilled cranks, chainrings, derailleurs, brakes and other components.  In fact, Campagnolo and a few other manufacturers offered components that were already drilled or slotted.  Ironically, Campagnolo's slotted brake levers actually weighed more than their smooth ones!  According to Campagnolo, the levers were made thicker so they could withstand the slotting.

Now, I've never seen a Specialites TA three-pin crankset in drillium--until just a little while ago, when I was looking at the e-bay listings. (I have an excuse:  I was selling a couple of items.)  

I actually like it.  In some weird way, it looks Art Deco-ish.  I was tempted to buy it. But, I can't really justify buying anything I don't plan to use soon, and I'm not doing any showroom-worthy vintage restorations.  Plus, I don't know whether Specialites TA still makes replacement chainrings.  As far as I know, no other chainrings are compatible with this crank.

Still, it is nice: probably the best three-pin crankset ever made. The drillium accentuates its lines, and makes a pretty crankset even prettier, in my opinion.

Our Winter Is Their Sunrise

As I've mentioned in my previous two posts, we in New York are having the coldest weather we've had in two years.  Everybody's talking about it:  I think we were spoiled by such a mild season last year.

Still, we're getting off pretty easy compared to people in other parts of the world.  Either of the past two days would have been utterly balmy in, say, Duluth, Minnesota.  On an average January day, the high temperature there is 18F(-8C)--about what it was yesterday.  Today it was about five degrees (F) warmer.  And our night temperatures have been nowhere near as cold as the  -1F (-18C) folks in Duluth experience on a typical January night.

Aside from the mild winter we had last year, the cold is affecting people in the Big Apple for another reason:  wind.  The wind has, at times, gusted to nearly 30MPH (50KPH), and has steadily blown at 10-12MPH (16-21KPH).  That, of course, gives the cold a "bite" it wouldn't otherwise have.

However, there is one area in which, barring dramatic climate changes, New York winters will never compare with those in Duluth:  snow.  We should be thankful for small things:  The cold and wind here have been dry, and the skies almost preternaturally clear.  (Somehow, skies seem--to me, anyway-- clearer when it's cold.)  The city by Lake Superior, in contrast, is almost always covered with snow at this time of year, mainly because when snow falls, it tends to stay for longer than it does here in the New York islands.

So, I have to give major "props" to any year-round bike commuter in Duluth--like Doug, the author of MnBicycleCommuter.  When the roads are covered with snow, he rides a Surly Pugsley with the widest tires he can fit. 

Now, if I had to ride in the kind of cold Doug regularly experiences, I wouldn't mind a view like that.  I've pedalled into the sunrise:  It put me in a good mood for work.

Doug definitely deserves such views. So does anyone else who rides in those conditions!

Les Alpes Maritimes Sur Flushing Bay

Last night the temperature dropped below 10F for the first time in two years.  When I left my place, it was 12F, and the wind-chill was below zero.

So I did took the most sensible route for today's commute:  the one that takes me along the water.

For a moment, I actually envisioned myself among the snow-capped peaks of the Alps.  I rode up mountains (Avoriaz, Galibier and Colle d'Agnello/Col d'Agnell) whose roads were banked by snow--and whose peaks were covered them--when the weather was warm enough to ride comfortably in shorts and a cycling jersey. 

Today's weather, of course, was nothing like that.  However, I didn't have to do any climbing.  Along the Cote d'Azur and in Liguria, the mountains tumble all the way to the sea.  People who've spent their entire lives in this part of the world probably cannot imagine such a coastline.

This is probably the closest they'll come to seeing anything like it:

 

Just Vera, The Red Allez And An Old Mountain Bike

Today we had the coldest weather we've had in two years.  Last night it got down to 15F; the weather forecasters say that it may drop to 10F or below tonight.

One way you know we're having a real winter is to look at the bike racks where I work:

The only bikes parked there are Vera, the red Allez that's been there seemingly every day and an old Fuji mountain bike.

Are they ridden by hardy souls or addled minds? Now there's a question for a campus debate!

21 January 2013

They Should've Been Riding Bikes

Yesterday I wrote about the Long Island Motor Parkway, which, in its history, has been one of America's first race courses and one of its first automotive expressways--and would become of the last bike lanes to open in New York for nearly half a century.  Now it's a segment of what is supposed to become the Brooklyn-Queens Greenway.

So, perhaps, there was some weird sort of synchronicity, or whatever you want to call it, at work when I found this image on one of my favorite non-bike blogs, Old Picture of the Day:

20 January 2013

Riding An Early Race Course

Believe it or not, this was once an automobile race course.

It was also one of America's first expressways.  At least, it was one of the first roads to be designed so that drivers wouldn't have to stop for traffic lights, railroad crossings or many of the other things they'd have to contend with on conventional roadways.

Of course, when it was serving the functions I described, it didn't have all of the trees and other vegetation growing on its sides.  That was allowed after the road became a bike/pedestrian path.

Yes, the path in the photo was once part of the Long Island Motor Parkway, which I mentioned in an earlier post.  Now it's a segment of the planned Brooklyn-Queens Greenway.

I don't know whether storm damage has been cleared, or whether there wasn't much of it on the path.  Running through the middle of Queens, it's several miles from either the north or south shores and, I would assume, out of the path of a storm surge.

Here the former Parkway takes a turn underneath the expressway--the Northern State Parkway--that rendered it obsolete for automotive use.

When it carried automobile traffic, the Parkway had  several "toll lodges". (Don't you just love that term?)  One of them now serves as a Parks Department facility in Cunningham Park:

Tosca was clearly enjoying the ride, as I was: