Standing In A Spectrum Of Gray

During the past two days, our weather has been a spectrum of gray, from fog to mist to drizzle to showers to rain--and back again.  

Yes, I rode to work. But that was the extent of my cycling.  Even though we're well into May, the temperatures--and, it seems, the light--feel more like early spring.  So it's been just warm enough that some people, like me, want to experience it, or simply be outside for a little while.  But it's been chilly enough that some seek shelter from it.

Some who seek shelter look for--or build--castles in the air:

The gothic-looking building  with the blurred top in the middle of the photo is the Woolworth Building, one of the first skyscrapers built here.  I've never been to the top floors, but I've seen a fog-enshrouded skyline from the top of the Empire State Building and the World Trade Center.  It's sort of like rising from a dream without waking from it.

As for those who remain outside in the misty chill: They do not always stand tall. They don't have to; they just stand.  Sometimes it's hard not to notice them.

For them, the season is beginning in a spectrum they will help to complete.

Up The Hill, From Portland

He was a proto-Portlander.  Or, if you will, a Portlander before there was Portland.

What I mean is that he was born and raised in Portland, and has lived there all of his life.  So he was there before it became a "hip" place to live.

But he has as much in common with the current city as he does with the one in which he grew up.  That is most evident in his mode of transportation.  You guessed it:  He rides his bicycle to work.

If you're from Portland or follow politics, you know that I'm talking about Congressman Earl Blumenauer. He has represented his city--Oregon's 3rd District, to be exact--in Washington since 1996. Before that, he served in his state's legislature and city government.  

He is probably the most ardent advocate for bicycling, and one of the staunchest proponents of modern mass transportation, to have graced the halls of Congress.  But even if you didn't know that about him, you'd know who he was if you've watched Congressional proceedings on CNN.

You see, he is nearly always seen with a neon-colored bicycle pin in his lapel.  That, and the fact that he usually wears bow ties makes him stand out in a chamber that's not noted for its sartorial diversity.

Of course, being "The Bike Guy" won't, by itself, get someone re-elected to Congress eight times, even in Portland. So, perhaps not surprisingly, he has done some notable work in pressuring the US to take more action in the Darfur Conflict.  He also called attention for the need to improve protection against flooding even before Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans.

It must be said that his record isn't perfect:  He supports the World Trade Organization and has supported trade agreements whose aims, it seems, contradict those of his work on transportation, environmental and human right issues.

Still, you've gotta love him for riding his bike up Capital Hill every day and for his fashion sense!

 

 

Slingin' A Six-Pack

In my time, I've seen all sorts of strange and interesting bicycle accessories.  Some of them were designed so that a bike can transport some item or another:  I've seen bags, brackets, racks, braze-ons and even frames designed to hold fishing rods, guitars, surfboards, rifles, construction equipment and laptops.  I'll bet that someone has found a way to use a bike generator (or even the battery from a light) to power said laptop, or some electronic device.


In my time, I've also seen plenty of cyclists toting six-packs of beer.  Most often, they're in baskets, whether on the front or rear, but I've also seen riders carry them in panniers or backpacks (Hey, I've done that myself!) or even dangle them from their fingers.





So, I guess, it was just a matter of time before someone invented something to port their Pilsner or lug their lager.  And I probably shouldn't be surprised that the person who came up with this world-changing idea is employed by one of my favorite purveyors of cycling equipment:  Velo Orange.







Even Chris himself seems to think as much.  He asks whether it's a good or crazy idea.  I agree with one person who responded:  It would be great if the sides could fold out flat, making the rack usable with, say, handlebar bags or for other purposes.





Now, the tattoo, I'm not so sure about.

Hard Rain In Harlem

Over the past few years, there seem to have been fewer rainy or snowy days than in previous years.  However, it seems that whenever we get precipitation, it falls longer and harder--which means, of course, that we get more of it.

At least, that is how I have perceived local weather patterns.   I've talked to a few people--both better- and less- informed than I am--who say they've observed something similar.

Today I came across some maps and charts that confirm my observations.  Turns out, the weather pattern I've described is most pronounced in the part of the US in which I live, but prevails everywhere else in the US with one exception:  Hawaii.

Now, that might sound good for cyclists:  If you have one deluge and weeks of dry weather, you can wait out that rainy day--unless, of course, you don't mind the rain.  I don't, as long as it's not cold and I can see where I'm going.

But, as the study that produced the data I've included indicates, such a weather pattern is bad for cyclists--and everyone else.  All right, cycling isn't mentioned, but I can tell you one problem this weather pattern presents for us:  more flooding.  You see, when precipitation is less frequent, the ground dries up and is less able to absorb whatever rain or snow comes along. That is why the deserts of southwestern US experience "gully washers":  When it rains, it pours, and when it pours, the water simply runs off into the nearest ditch, canyon or any other low-lying piece of real estate.  

I don't care how much coverage your fenders provide or how sealed your bearings are:  You probably don't want to, and shouldn't, ride in such conditions.  Not even if you're riding fat knobby tires. 

The phenomena I've described also explain why, at the same time, much of the US has been experiencing record-breaking droughts.  In fact, nearly all of the US from the Rockies westward is in a declared state of drought:  In fact, even some policy-makers are saying that parts of Texas, Colorado, Nevada and California may be in a permanent--or, at least a mega---drought.

And that, dear readers, can pose bigger problems than how we will fill our water bottles, hydra-packs or whatever hydration systems we use.

The reason why heavy precipitation and storms are coincidental with drought is that most places are not only getting warmer; they are experiencing record one-day temperatures and heat waves.  Here in New York, we have had at least one day in which the temperature exceeded 102F (39C) in each of the past three summers; before 2010, we had gone more than three decades without experiencing such heat.  

The Wire(s)

In two earlier posts, I mentioned the Slingshot bicycle. You may have seen one:  It has a cable anchored by suspension coils where the down tube would normally be found.  At least, that's the kind of bike for which Slingshot is known.  Apparently, they're now making a line of bikes constructed entirely of chrome-molybdenum steel tubes, like a traditional frame sans lugs.


But I digress.  Slingshot is still best known for its "frame with a cable".  I had the opportunity to ride one owned by one of my old riding buddies.  I rather liked it, but I'm not sure I would want it as my only bike.


Although Slingshot is the best-known (and possibly the best) bike to use a tension cable as part of its frame structure, it's certainly not the first.  At least, the folks at Slingshot --who still build all of their frames, including the cable-less one, in Grand Rapids, Michigan--weren't the first to think of building a bike that way.


Here is a drawing of one patented in 1904, nearly eight decades before the first Slingshot was made. 





Of course, the shape is very different.  I think I like it, though I wonder what it would be like to ride.  You see, the purpose of those cables is not suspension, as it is on the Slingshot, but to make the frame collapsible.


Depending on how it rode, I might consider such a bike if someone made it.  I imagine that some other people--especially those who travel a lot--might, too.  And I can imagine the military hankering for a bike like that, especially in areas inaccessible by other vehicles.

At The End Of The Day In The Middle Of Spring

What could have been better than this:  a late-afternoon ride on a perfect Spring day?

It's the sort of thing that can make you happy to, well, be.  Scrims of cloud swirled around the bright sun.  Breezes puffed petals from flowers that have bloomed for a few days and, at times, gusted and rippled the water around my ride.

My little adventure took me to the Coney Island pier.

From there, I pedaled along the ocean and New York Bay under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.

The only thing that wasn't almost perfect was this last photo.  But that was my fault.  I'm including it anyway because even though the saddle and part of the handlebars were cut off, Tosca still looks great, as she always does.

Spell Check Special Ed

Once upon a loong time ago, I thought about becoming a medievalist.  I always found that period of history interesting, but I realized that I would have to learn about seven or eight more languages (of which about two or three are spoken by living people),  If nothing else, I might have finally understood a concept I was taught, but never quite understood, when I was in Catholic school:  that eternal life.  I probably would have needed it, and more, to learn everything I needed to know in order to become a medievalist.

Anyway, I was reminded of that when I saw this sign:

Could the person who made it have been a medievalist, or tried to become one?  Theese puppyes cuytes I do lyke wel.  

Hmm...How would The Canterbury Tales have been different if Chaucer had Spell Check?

While pondering that question, I came across this:

Maybe the bike couldn't decide whether it was a Specialized or a Bottechia?  Or, perhaps, a Boteycheya?

Now I'm thinking of one o my riding buddies from my off-road riding days.  He didn't add a "C: to his Specialized.  Instead, he removed the "iz",    

He took the meaning of "Special Ed" quite literally and wore it as a badge of honor.  Or honorye?

Un Mirage, Aujourd'hui Et Hier

If you entered the world of cycling during the 1970's, as I did, you recall certain iconic bikes.  They're not necessarily the high-end ones:  You most likely would have been riding one of those if you had become a cyclist earlier or were wealthy.  I'm thinking, instead, of bikes like the Peugeot U-08, Raleigh Grand Prix and Super Course, Fuji S-10s and Nishiki Olympic and International.  They were the bikes on which many of us learned about cycling:  that is to say, when we went from being kids who banged around on bikes to adolescents and young adults who commuted, trained, raced, toured or were messengers astride two wheels.

Another bike of that genre was the Motobecane Mirage.  I was reminded of that yesterday, when I saw one parked.

Of course, a Mirage from my youth would not have looked like that:  For one thing, red on black, seemingly ubiquitous today, was not quite as common a color scheme.  Even more to the point, one of those old Mirages would not have built in China, or this way:

No, those old bikes would not have had their aluminum frame tubes joined by cobbly welds.  Instead, like most bikes of any quality made at that time, their steel tubes would have been fitted and brazed into lugs.

The result would have been something like this specimen from around 1981:

From Mr. Martin's Website

Like earlier Mirages, this one is constructed from high-carbon steel tubes and lugs.  Though it's one step above entry-level, it had workmanship, a finish and ride better than other bikes in its category. 

Motobecane is said to be the first European bike-maker to equip new bikes with Japanese drivetrain components like the SunTour derailleurs and Sakae Ringyo crankset you see on this bike.  Those components--especially the derailleurs--were significant improvements over the gear found on earlier iterations of the Mirage:

The derailleurs are Huret Allvit:  the same ones found on many entry-level European bikes during the Bike Boom era.  (Schwinn equipped several of its models with rebadged versions of the same derailleurs.) While as advanced when it was introduced in 1958 as the first personal computers were two decades later, they became anachronisms just as quickly.  So did the steel cottered crankse after Japanese companies like Sakae Ringyo (a.k.a. SR) came out with relatively low-priced cotterless cranksets around the same time SunTour introduced its VGT rear derailleur, of which many are still in use nearly two decades after SunTour stopped making derailleurs.

Now, some components on the new black Mirage I saw yesterday are certainly vast improvements over (though not as attractive as) the stuff on the green Mirage--and, some would argue, on the blue one. And even if the new machine is a good rider, somehow I will never be able to see it as a Mirage from my youth. (Pun intended!)

P.S.  I actually owned and rode a Mirage--which was my commuter/beater--for about two years.  It was like the green one in the photo, except that mine was black with purple seat tube and head panels.  I loved the way it looked, and rode.  Sadly, like several of my commuter/beaters, I crashed it.  Or, more precisely, I rode it into one of the deepest potholes in the history of paved roads and cracked the top and seat tubes just behind the head lugs.

Daisy Bell

It's May.  Finally, the weather finally says "Spring is here!"  And, some would say, love is in the air.

With that in mind, I simply could not resist posting this recording of "Daisy Bell" (a.k.a. "Bicycle Built For Two"), as sung by Pat Phillips:

The Syntax Of Traffic Regulation

Sometimes I have to wonder what, exactly, this city's Department of Transportation is trying to accomplish?  Are they trying to make this city more or less "bike friendly", whatever that means?  More specifically, are they trying to encourage or discourage bicycle commuting?  Or do they want to do both?

I mean, they decide they don't want us to use certain bridges or walkways--I think.  At least, that's the message--the literal one, anyway--I get from this sign:

So why am I so uncertain as to the DOT's intentions?  Well, for one thing, the sign was placed in a spot most cyclists (or pedestrians, for that matter) won't see:  in the corner of a retaining wall that takes a sharp turn away from the path of pedestrians and cyclists.  It almost makes me think someone in the DOT was ordered, but didn't want, to put up the sign.

What makes the intentions of the sign even less clear, though, is that the sign imposes another, seemingly unrelated, prohibition against taking pictures.

Or does it?  Take a look at the last line:

"Use of cameras prohibited and strictly enforced."  As I understand, "prohibited" means "not allowed" or "barred".  But I take "strictly enforced" to mean that people will be compelled or forced to use cameras. 

Now, I'll admit that my knowledge of some things is a bit rusty.  So maybe I've forgotten the part of some class in which the instructor explained how something can be forbidden and mandatory at the same time.

Or it may be that, as an acquaintance suggested, that I've been teaching so long that I know English grammar too well for my own good--or my own sanity, at any rate. Or, at least, I know so much that it interferes with my bike riding.

For the record, the issue in the sign is not one of grammar:  It's one of syntax.

Whatever that sign was trying to say, I may or may not have been in violation:  I took the photo with my cell phone, not a camera.