Apres Sandy, Une Deluge Plus?

There's supposed to be another "Frankenstorm" headed this way.  It will be a bit different from Sandy, though, because while this storm will involve a Nor'easter, as Sandy did, it won't have a hurricane powering it.  Instead, a winter storm from the west will join the Nor'easter that's headed this way.

So, while the storm is exected to bring high tides, it won't bring anything like the surge Sandy brought. (So the weather forecasters say, and so we hope).  It also could bring us a fair amount of snow, along with or instead of rain.  However, it seems like the biggest snow drifts will be well to the north of me, in the Boston-Cape Cod-Providence area.

Still, I can't help but to wonder what this storm will bring.  Will I see anything like this in my neighborhood?

From Utility Cycling

Will this storm give rise to local counterparts of Bud Schaefer?  Will it lead to the use of alternative fuels?

                         

An Island After The Storm: Following Virginia

The past couple of days have been insane.  I must say, though, that apart from a computer malfunction, it's been good.

Along the way, I took a detour onto Roosevelt Island, a place where I hadn't been since Superstorm Sandy.

At least it's still there. However, I was disappointed--though  not surprised--to see this:

The park at the northern end of the island has been closed off.  That means you can't go to the lighthouse (I'm sorry, Virginia!) at the point where the East River opens into Long Island Sound.  

You can't see it in this photo, but some of the promenade on the other side of the light house broke up like a window struck by a brick.

About half a kilometer south of the lighthouse, on the Manhattan-facing shore, an observation deck shaped like the bow of a ship was also closed off:

I stopped there anyway because, when I looked to my left, I saw visual proof that renaming the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge after Ed Koch was a terrible idea:

I don't think he had the emotional complexity to appreciate, much less reflect, the light and color of this vista.  Besides, he only went to Roosevelt Island--over which the bridge passes--and Queens under great duress. 

Here, I believe, is a more fitting monument to him:

It's called "The Marriage of Real Estate and Money". Tom Otterness made it, I'm sure, with his tongue at least somewhat in his cheek.  Still, it is an apt expression of Koch's real legacy.

On the island's southern end--just below the shadow of the bridge--a monument to Franklin D. Roosevelt, for whom the island was named  (Previously, it was known as Welfare Island) has been built.  It opened just a few days before Sandy struck.  It fared a bit better than the park around the lighthouse.

You can't bring your bike into it:  You can leave it at the gate and a Parks employee will watch it for you.  However, it's a rewarding dismount:

Once you pass the obelisk, you can descend steps that are like the rows of an ampitheatre and share a view with the birds perched on the rock:

After taking that in, I turned around and walked back to my bike.  As I have a lousy sense of direction, I needed something to light the way out:

If I didn't know any better, I'd think that the leaves left their color when the fell off those branches.  However, I know those trees are newly-planted.  I almost wish that they won't bud and bloom this spring.

I don't think the season makes much difference to this denizen of the island:

If that photo were the frame of a comic strip, this avian creature's though-bubble would probably read, "Silly Humans!"

Her Long-Lost Brother

It's probably a good thing I haven't named the Schwinn Collegiate I got just before Christmas.  Something happened that might affect the way she sees herself--which, in turn, could influence the name I choose for her.

You see, as she was made in 1966 in Schwinn's old Chicago factory, she has lots and lots of siblings she's never met.  Some of them may be lost to this world.  But it probably had been years, or even decades, since she'd met any of them.

Did you notice the verb tense shift in the last sentence of the previous paragraph?  There's a reason for it:

I asked, and she believes that this Collegiate in the same, similarly-faded, shade of violet she wears, is her older brother. 

There's a good reason for that:  According to the Schwinn Lightweight Data Book, the men's (diamond-frame) version of the Collegiate came with its shifter on the top tube in 1965.

Like most Schwinn shifters and derailleurs of the time, it was made by Huret and rebranded as "Schwinn Sprint".

I apologize for the poor angles of these photos:  I took them while standing between the bike and a parked car!

Anyway, the placement of the shift lever posed some interesting problems in routing cable:

There are also other things that make this bike specific to its time period.  Take a look at the engraving on the rear, which Weinmann made for Schwinn in Switzerland:

I mean, who does anything like that anymore?

One other interesting feature--albeit one that doesn't affect the bike's functionality--is the chrome "cap" on the front fork:

My Collegiate doesn't have it.  Those caps were removable, so it may be that someone lost it after overhauling the headset.  Or, the fork may have been a replacement, though it doesn't seem likely as the paint on the fork is chipped and faded in much the same way as the frame.

From what I could see, only three parts of "Big Brother" had been replaced:  the seat (which had a Huffy emblem on it) and the rear wheel (although the five-speed freewheel looked like it could have been the original) and the rear tire.

On the other hand, my Collegiate has original Schwinn parts from that period, though the rear wheel has a Bendix coaster brake and Schwinn rim (which would have been original equipment on the "Speedster," which had the same frame and wheel size as the Collegiate.  

It's a good thing I wasn't in a hurry when I spotted my Collegiate's long-lost brother.  As you can imagine,they had a lot to talk about!

With Every Paper We Deliver

But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver

You've all heard those lines in Don McLean's "American Pie." When someone asked him what the song meant to him, he Said, "That I'd never have to work another day in my life."

For me, it evokes memories of delivering the Asbury Park Press forty (!) years ago, right around the time McLean's masterpiece lorded over the airwaves.  One of my few achievements in life--and one I'm talking about for the very first time--is having been selected "carrier of the week".  No one ever explained the criteria used in making the choice; for all I knew, they just pulled a name out of a hat.

I mean, other carriers had longer routes or delivered more papers.  I was an honor student, but so were some of the other carriers.  And they won bonus prizes the Press offered for one thing and another, as I did.

Stranger things have happened.

I was reminded of that experience, and McLean's song, by a story someone passed on to me.  




I delivered newspapers all through three New Jersey winters.  I guess that's a respectable accomplishment, but I can't hold a candle to Bud Schaefer, who's been delivering 37 copies of the Rochester (MN) Post-Bulletin in the Minnesota winter.

He admits that when the snow piles up, he delivers his papers by car and rides a trainer.

Still, he has my admiration.   And my respect:  He's 86 years old, and my mother taught me to respect my elders.

More Commuting In Bike-Friendly Communities

Here's something that will surprise no-one:  Bicycle commuting is growing much faster in bicycle-friendly communities.  And it's growing more slowly, or not at all, in communities that aren't bicycle friendly.

So we learn from an American Community Survery, which was reported in the League of American Bicyclists  blog.

Across the United States, bicycle commuting increased 47 percent from 2000 until 2011.  During that time, it shot up by 80 percent in bike-friendly communities and but inched up by 32 percent in non-bike friendly communities.

Some good news is that even the increase in non-bike friendly communities has outpaced population growth.  Still, it pretty much goes without saying that the best way to get more people to commute by bicycle is to create conditions that are conducive and make people safe and comfortable in riding their bikes to work.

What They Didn't Have

From Butch Cassidy And The Sundance Kid

More than three decades ago, Hal Ruzal, the Mercian maven and mechanic par excellence of Bicycle Habitat, rode his bicycle across the United States for the first (!) time.  

A friend who accompanied him had several flats and was down to his last inner tubes when they were in Kansas.   Now, I've never been to Kansas, but I don't imagine that, even today, it's as easy to find some bike items there as it is in, say, Portland, Minneapolis or Boston.  However, in those days, according to Hal, "there wasn't a single Presta valve tube in the entire state of Kansas."

He can tell a good story, but I don't think he was exaggerating. I don't think the very first shop in which I worked--in New Jersey--had Presta valve tubes, either. For that matter, I wouldn't be surprised to know that most shops in the Garden State circa 1975 didn't have them.


If they didn't have Presta valves,  it meant they didn't have sew-up tires, and probably didn't have the high-pressure clinchers (like the Michelin Elan) that were just starting to become available around then--or the new rims Mavic and Rigida were making for use with them.  

If you were in a rural area, it could even be difficult to find things like toe clips and straps. (The only clipless pedal available then was the Cinelli M-71, a.k.a. "The Suicide Pedal.) Around that time, John Rakowski, who rode his bicycle around the world, ordered the Karrimor panniers and handlebar bags he used directly from the manufacturer in England:  Very few shops carried good touring gear, and supplies were sporadic, to put it mildly.

Those times were probably the heyday of mail-order shops.  Sometimes the shops' proprietors (who were almost invariably the buyers, if their wives weren't) didn't even know where to find high-quality bike items.  Or, if they could find a source, the prices would be exorbitant because they were ordering only one, and paying the full shipping costs.

The lightest bike sold in the first shop in which I worked was the Raleigh Super Course.  

Raleigh Super Course, in the 1975 catalogue.

It was a pretty bike, I thought, especially in that shade of candy-apple red. (The green wasn't bad, either.)  But I would soon find myself riding a bike that, in almost every way, exceeded that one.  I didn't get it in that first shop in which I worked.  I couldn't have.

Advertise Here! Sponsor Me!

For some time now, I've been talking about changes on this blog.

Well, here they come.  I'm going to mention them in ascending order of magnitude.

First, I'll soon be writing some more posts about the bikes of my past.  I've found some photos and negatives that might scan well.  Best of all, they're of bikes that I rode for a long time or otherwise played significant roles in my cycling, and my life.

Second, I'm going to streamline the layout a bit.  I think I'm going to stick with the same basic template, as people have told me they like it. (I like it, too.)  But I might re-position some items.  Also, I want to have fewer items on the homepage so that it loads more quickly--and for the third change I'm going to make.

Change Number Three is (drumroll):  Advertising.  Yes, I want to accept paid ads from bicycle-related retailers, manufacturers, publishers and other businesses.  I really feel the need to do this, as my blogs (which include Transwoman Times and two others I'm writing under pseudonyms) are taking up more and more of my time,and I need the income.  I really want to avoid taking on other kinds of work so that I can concentrate on writing, which (along with cycling) is my true passion. 


The thing is, I want to take ads directly from advertisers rather than through an intermediary.  That would probably allow me to offer lower prices--and, of course, I can pocket a greater portion of what I make.  

I would also be interested in sponsorship.  Certain brands and other names have appeared frequently on this blog--Yes, I'm talking to you!

If you are a potential advertiser or sponsor, please contact me at justineisadream@gmail.com so we can discuss positioning, price and such.  You'll have access to 10,000 readers a month--and that number is growing!

A Chopper's Ship Comes In

I never thought I would write these words:  A Raleigh Chopper has a raison d'etre.

In fact, three--count 'em three!-- of the most unsafe bikes ever made have been put to good use.  Aesthetically, no less.

If you still don't believe me, take a look at this:

Apparently, it's an ad from the '70's.  I found it on Amber's Cruiser Media. She has some other interesting old-school ads on her site.  

More than a few kids who rode Choppers imagined themselves like this rider:

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: