In The Cards

How many poker players are cyclists? 

For that matter, how many magicians ride bikes?

Those questions crossed my mind today when I was in a store, shopping for something entirely unrelated, and I came across decks of Bicycle playing cards.

I've seen them before, even though I can't remember the last time I played a card game and don't know the first thing about poker.  

Turns out, Bicycle cards are some of the best-known. They have been in continuous production since 1885.  Although I have found no information to confirm it, I suspect that the name has to do with the start date:  That is around the time bicycling was becoming fashionable.  A high-wheeler from that time cost, in today's dollars, more than even the most expensive custom machines made for record attempts and the riders on the wealthy nations' national teams.

In other words, bicycles had the same connotations as a private jet might have today.  People rode them to the opera and to art openings.  As arduous as they were to ride, nobody would mount a "penny farthing" unless he or she were wearing "proper" attire.  And I ain't talkin' about "billboard" jerseys and shorts in lycra!

Apparently, BIcycle cards are available in a variety of configurations, including versions for various card games and large-print cards for people with low vision.  However, nearly all Bicycle decks have an "air cushion" finish, which is said to improve their handling and is one of the reasons why they are so favored by magicians and performers who incorporate card tricks into their routines.

The first card in a typical deck is Bicycle's uniquely-styled Ace of Spades.  That card played a role its designers probably didn't envision.  During the Vietnam War, two American lieutenants wrote to the United States Playing Card Company (the manufacturer of Bicycle cards) and requested decks containing nothing but Aces of Spades.  Those officers, and their underlings, scattered those cards around the countryside.  Some Vietcong fled at the mere sight of them:  They conflated the Ace of Spades with a similar-looking French fortune-telling card that foretold death and suffering.  (Vietnam, a.k.a. Indochina, had been a French colony for nearly a century.)   Some of the Vietcong also regarded Lady LIberty, which was inscribed on some decks of cards, as a goddess of death.

I'm sure some of them fled on bicycles.

Bicycles Are Beautiful. Bill Cosby Says So.

If you see a picture of people riding one of these and smiling, don't believe it.  They're probably gritting their teeth.

"One of these" refers to the "boneshaker".  Who made that trenchant observation about navigating one of those wood wheeled wonders?

Why, it was none other than everybody's favorite dad--in the 1980's, anyway.  I'm talking, of course, about Bill Cosby.

He uttered those immortal lines in "Bicycles Are Beautiful", a safety program he made during the 1970's "bike boom".  It's charming, even quaint, for a number of reasons.  One, of course, is seeing a younger Cosby.  But it's also interesting to see bikes, cars and the California landscape of that time.  Also, only one cyclist is wearing a helmet. Ironically, that cyclist got "doored" in the program.  And his helmet looked more like something a motocross or dirt-bike racer might wear. Given that the only alternative to that kind of helmet was the "leather hairnet" (which offered about as much protection against head injuries as the rhythm method offers against unplanned pregnancy), it's understandable that no one else was wearing helmets.

However, to his credit, Cosby dispelled some widely- (and wrongly-) held notions, such as the one that cyclists should ride against traffic.  Also, in watching the program, Cosby was not only admonishing cyclists to be vigilant and obey rules; he was also--as he has so often--promoting respect and civility.  I don't know whether or not he was an active cyclist, but the title of the program seems to reflect his attitude about bicycles and cyclists.

Still, I can't get over the fact that he pronounces "bicycle" as "buy-sigh-kle".

Riding In The Parks

For someone who's lived as long as I've lived in New York, I really haven't done much cycling in Central Park.  Even during the eight years I lived in Manhattan, I seldom ventured into Frederick Law Olmstead's masterpiece of urban landscaping.

I guess part of the reason why I didn't do many laps around Strawberry Fields and the lake is that, well, riding or running in the park seemed like such a New York cliche.  Being a reel Noo Yawkuh (and being young and full of testosterone and alcohol, among other things), I thought I was just too cool for that.

Actually, I came up with some pretty good reasons not to ride in the park:  Most of the times when I could ride there, the lanes were choked with other cyclists, runners, joggers, women (and, occasionally, men) pushing strollers and, ahem,  the bane of every New Yorker's existence:  those dreaded, dratted tourists!  Later, inline skaters would be added to the mix.  And, it seemed, nobody watched where he or she was going, especially the skaters. 

The funny thing was that everything I just said could also be said about Prospect Park in Brooklyn.  But I rode there far more often than I rode in Central Park. Part of the reason for that was that I lived very close to Prospect during my eleven years in Park Slope.  Also, when I was living there, I had begun to do a lot of fixed-gear riding, and Prospect was nearly perfect for that.  Plus, being a bit older, I think I'd  become a bit more tolerant of tourists and such.

Anyway, what got me to thinking about Central Park was a photo I came across:

Photo by Faungg on Flickr

Hello Kitty, Allen Keys And Yogurt

Today I think I took the sort of ride only I could have taken.

Actually, there was nothing terribly unusual about the ride itself (which is not to say that I didn't enjoy it). I rode into, and was blown by, wind gusts of up to 50 KPH as I pedaled along the World's Fair Marina Promenade and along under the Whitestone and Throgs Neck Bridges.  At least I had the wind at my back for part of the return ride.

Just as I was leaving the WFM Promenade, near LaGuardia Airport, I spotted this on the battered concrete ramp:

I'm guessing that this Park Tool Allen key set fell out of someone's seat bag, backpack or messenger bag.  The keys were in surprisingly good condition.  The smaller ones showed some wear, but still look usable, while the larger ones are in really good shape.

After finding that little treasure, I rode about two more kilometers to Kesso's for a container of my favorite Greek yogurt, which is made fresh every day.

As the owner packed a container for me, I found this on the floor:

What girl doesn't need a book of Hello Kitty! stickers?   None  had been removed; the booklet looked as if it just came off the shelf of a kiddie boutique in Park Slope.  

I picked it up and showed it to the owner of the shop.  He shrugged his shoulders.  "You like?  Take!"

Between those stickers, the tool, the yougurt and little Greek pastries, I was glad I rode with my Barley bag!

Before Tosca: Dee Bee, A De Bernardi "Thron"

Today you're going to meet Tosca's predecessor.

That is to say, you're going to see the fixed gear bike I rode before Tosca came into my life.

If you want an old-school European steel track bike--or, at least, one that has geometry more or less like what you'd find on a real track bike--you'd do well with the De Bernardi Pista I rode for three years.

The frame was constructed of Columbus "Thron" tubing.   So, it's a bit heavier than what most professional racers would ride on the track, or anything NJS would approve. Still, it has that "riding on rails" quality track bike aficianados like. It didn't respond or handle quite as quickly as Tosca does, but it was, I think, a little better than the KHS I had.  

I set the bike up for runs along the north shore of Queens and Nassau County, or spins down to Rockaway or Coney Island Beach.  So, of course, the bike didn't have pure track--let alone NJS-approved--components. Still, most of them served me well.

I rode the wheels you see in the picture for most of the time I rode the bike.  Velocity laced their own Deep-V rims onto Velocity-rebranded Formula hubs with bladed spokes in a gold finish that matched the rims and hubs.  

After nearly three years, the rear spokes started to break.  At that point, I had Hal at Bicycle Habitat build me another set of wheels with Mavic Open Pro rims on Phil Wood hubs. A few months later, Tosca arrived and inherited those wheels.  I bought another set of wheels with Formula hubs from an eBay seller.  Those wheels--in black--were on "Dee-Bee" when I sold her.

"Dee-Bee" was, I believe, a worthy predecessor to Tosca. 

This Medici Won't Fade Away

Just when I thought neon fades had been consigned to the dustbin of history, I saw this:

Now, as you well know, I have nothing against purple and green standing side by side.  In fact, it's my favorite color combination. But not in this shade of green.

Too bad it's on such a good bike:  a Medici.  About 30 years ago, Gian Simonetti and Mike Howard left Masi USA to start the brand.   Not surprisingly, Medicis were very similar in design and in finishing details to the USA-made Masis which, according to some purists snobs, weren't quite as nice as the bikes Signor Masi built when he was in Italy.

I knew people who had both US- and Italian-made Masis, as well as Medicis.  Truthfully, nobody could quite explain what the differences were between them, and I couldn't tell by riding them.  Then again, those people might argue that I didn't spend enough time riding those bikes.

I'd be curious about the one in the photo, though.  The early Medicis--including the ones I rode--were made from Columbus SL tubing.  On the other hand, the frame in the photo was made from Tange Prestige tubing, which means that it was probably made in the early or mid-1990's.

As far as I can tell, the Medici marquee no longer exists.  i guess the Medicis, like all dynasties, had to end some time!  

Spring?

Ah, yes.  Today's the first day of Spring.  At least, that's what the calendar says.  And, according to Punxsutawney Phil, the season should be well under way by now.

However, riding to work today looked more like this--minus the scenery, of course:

 
At least the snow is on the sides of the street, not in the roadway.  I'm grateful for small things.

Hawthorne Flyer Lands By Navy Yard

The other day, I saw this bike parked near the Brooklyn Navy Yard:

It's a Hawthorne Flyer from, I'm guessing, the 1930's or '40's.

   

Along with the head logo, it has some other interesting features:

The chainring was, for me, oddly reminiscent of one you'd find on a Specilaties TA "Cyclotouriste", or other cranksets patterned after it.  


Gotta love this fender:

And this rear reflector is, as far as I can tell, glass, like others from the period:

The seat, with its steel pan and springs, is the exact opposite of a Brooks Professional or B-17.  I'm guessing that the seat had padding, or at least a covering.  It may have been leather, or possibly cloth.  But I can't imagine riding that seat in its current state!

Not everything on the bike is original.  This front wheel looks like it came off a Raleigh three-speed.  And, of course, the chainguard is missing.

Still, it is quite a find.  I hope that it finds a good home!

Always Coney Island

On Saturday, I took my first ride to Coney Island since Superstorm Sandy.  Although some parts of the boardwalk were closed and I saw damaged and destroyed buildings, as well as beach erosion, things weren't as bad as I expected.  Then again, last week, I rode through Rockaway Beach in Queens and Long Beach in Nassau County, two of the most devastated areas.  In those two places, the boardwalks were completely destroyed, houses leveled and streets and the beach strafed as if they'd been hit with millions of rounds of mortar-fire.  At least most of Coney Island was still intact.

Still, I was surprised to see this:

I have memories of Coney Island, and Nathan's, going back half a century.  One of my earliest childhood memories was being there for a Fourth of July celebration with my mother, her parents, my father, two of my uncles and one of my aunts.  I recall it because, according to my  mother, I wondered aloud, "Did you tell all of these people it's my birthday?"

I have been to the boardwalk billed as the world's most famous hundreds of times, at all times of the day and year. Never can I recall seeing the original Nathan's closed--before the other day.

So I wasn't surprised to see all of the other stores and restaurants shuttered.  Granted, many of them would not have been open at this time of year.  But even with the few people who wandered on to the intact areas of the boardwalk, Coney Island seemed desolate in a way I never could have previously imagined.  In fact, I don't think I ever used "Coney Island" and "desolate" in the same sentence until now.

But I actually rather enjoyed it. For one thing, the few residents I saw didn't seem shell-shocked.  But, more to the point, the sky--from which snow flurries floated to the cold but suprisingly serene sea--was, in its gray light, as bracing to look at as the chilly air felt against my skin.

Because Coney Island has offered me such sensations, I will continue to ride there.  I don't know when CI will "come back" or if everything will indeed be open for Memorial Day weekend.  But at least it's still there, and I can still ride to it.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

A friend of mine insists that if I live a good life, I will come back as an Irish girl.

She may have butchered a couple of religious traditions and I may have offended your religious sensibilities, dear reader, for conveying her belief.  But if she's right, I will live a virtuous life in the hope of coming back like this lovely young lady:

From Riding Pretty