It's All About The Spectacle--And Food!

Sometimes sporting events aren't only about the event itself.  Rather, the event becomes a platform for all sorts of communal rituals and spectacles, if not outright marketing.

The Super Bowl, which will be played tonight, is the perfect example of that. Two out of every three Americans, according to one poll, plan to watch the game. Of them, 45 percent don't care which team wins.  

Part of the reason why so many people have no interest in the outcome of the game is that they don't have a rooting interest in either the Denver Broncos or Carolina Panthers,the two teams that are contesting the match.  Another, possibly more important, reason is that many will not be watching the game as football fans:  They are attending or hosting Super Bowl parties in their or friends or family members' homes, or in sports bars.  

Really, the Super Bowl has become like another holiday that is an excuse to get together with friends and/or family to eat, drink and let loose.  Just as the American holiday of Thanksgiving has such traditional foods as turkey with stuffing and pumpkin pie, Super Bowl Sunday is associated with chicken wings (barbecue or Buffalo style), pizza, tortilla chips with guacamole and beer. 

Also, plenty of people will watch the game to see the halftime shows and, most of all, new commercials that will debut.  On one hand, it's distressing to think that some of the greatest and most creative minds in this country are employed to sell colored sugar water and cars that will be in landfills long before they are paid for.  On the other hand, the commercials can be fun to watch because they are imaginative and sometimes whimsical or, on occasion, beautiful.

So why am I talking about the Super Bowl Spectacle on a bike blog?  Well, I am reminded of the hoopla surrounding the stages of the Tour de France I attended (including the finish of the 1980 edition).  People camp out along the route and spend the day cooking and consuming all sorts of foods and, of course, drinking.  They play music, some dance; everyone is in a good mood.  Before the peloton whizzes through, caravans of Tour and team sponsors' vehicles roll by with various floats in tow.  Music streams from those vehicles; some tow stages on which musicians and dancers perform, or screens that flash scnes from the previous day's stage of the race.  And, from those trucks, vans and cars, drivers and passengers toss all manner of schwag to spectators:  keychains, mini-dolls and such with teams' and sponsors' names on them; one even threw packets of Mini-Babybel cheese nuggets!

Ah, yes--It's always about the food, isn't it?   Just like it was on a bike ride the Central Jersey Bike club used to run on winter Sundays (including Super Bowl Sunday) to a rural firehouse.  The ride itself was pleasant and calming, though not challenging, even for those riders who were in their mid-winter doldrums: about 50 or 60 kilometers round-trip, as I recall, through flat countryside.   

The real "event", if you will, was going to the firehouse, where they had all-you-can-eat pancake breakfasts for three dollars, if memory serves.  You could also have all of the coffee, tea, orange juice, scrambled eggs bacon, sausage or ham or hash browns you wanted. Being young and poor, I was usually hungry, even before riding, so that breakfast, I mean ride, appealed to me.   

I'm sure other club members, as well as many of the local people who went for the breakfast, were also there to fill themselves up for not very much money.  But for them, and for us, it was a social event as well:  We talked, we gossiped; some of us boasted and made challenges, but we came together for a comforting meal on a cold day.  Then we got on our bikes and rode back to Highland Park, just as the locals got in their cars and went home.   They--and we--would return for the next pancake breakfast in the firehouse, just as many people will, today, return to familiar haunts with familiar faces and consume familiar foods and drinks, the Super Bowl on a screen as their background.

When "Can't" We Ride?

It's Saturday.  The snow that fell yesterday morning and turned to slush in the afternoon is mostly gone now.  It's a couple of degrees warmer than normal for this time of year, and the sun has just set.  

All in all, we had pretty good (especially for this time of year) riding conditions.  But I didn't get on my bike.  Why?  Well, I've felt tired and my nose has been dripping like a faucet that needs fixing.  And I have been nodding on and off throughout the day.

In my younger days, I might have tried to "pedal it away". That usually worked with a simple cold or other minor ailments.  I am convinced, to this day, that I once rode long and fast enough that a flu couldn't keep up.  Or, perhaps, it couldn't hold on.

Almost anyone I know who isn't a cyclist would say that I "can't" ride today.  Perhaps my cycling friends and acquaintances would say as much.  And there are times we ourselves say we can't ride.  Sometimes it's a matter of health; other times it's because of other commitments we have, such as jobs and families.  Or some friend or relative we haven't seen in ages has come to town.





There was a time in my life when I would have said that there never is a time or place when one can't ride.  I even told people as much when they said they couldn't get out after work, caring for kids or whatever.  Of course, in saying that, I felt superior to all of those people who weren't riding 50 to 100 kilometers every day and taking a 150 or 200 kilometer ride on the weekend.  Hey, I wanted to feel superior about something.

Of course, I have changed, at least somewhat--at least enough that I can reflect on those times and ask the sorts of questions whose answers can change the course of humanity.  (Please, please permit me one moment of grandiosity!)  To wit:  Are there actually times when, and places where, we can't ride?  Or is it that, at least in theory, that such times and places don't exist--and that we only allow ourselves to be fettered by weather, commitments and "no bike riding" signs?

Dave Mirra R.I.P.

In this blog, I haven't written much about Bicycle Motocross, or BMX.  My omission is not out of disrespect; I don't touch on the sport very much because, having never ridden BMX myself, I know very little about it.  I have a lot of respect for the riders, as their sport requires a lot of bicycle, as well as other, skills that are gained only through a lot of disciplined work.  Plus, a double flip is quite the spectacle!

Dave Mirra was the first person to pull off that maneuver, in 2000.  Every year from 1995 until 2008 (with the exception of 2006, when he was injured), he won medals--including 14 golds--at the X Games.  It's been said that he is to BMX as Michael Jordan was to basketball; perhaps we could say he was to his sport as Eddy Mercx was to road racing.  Perhaps he was even more integral to BMX than anyone else was to his or her sport:  The first year he medaled at the X games was the first year they were held!



But it wasn't just his daring feats that made him a celebrity; his engaging personality made him a popular guest on shows like David Letterman's and a host MTV's Real World/Road Rules Challenge.  It's no surprise, then, that video games were named after him.

Sometimes he seemed invincible, as if there were no walls that could contain him and no boundaries he couldn't conquer. 

Until now.  Sadly, he was found today in his truck with "an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound," according to police in Greensboro, North Carolina, where he has lived for many years. 

Whatever the circumstances, his death is sad, especially since he is only 41 years old and leaves a wife and two daughters.  But if he indeed killed himself (he left no suicide note), it begs the question of whether his many falls caused long-term damage that led to the depression he was said to be suffering.  That question is especially valid in light of the experiences of former NFL players (like Junior Seau, who committed suicide in 2012) whose repeated hits to the head led to brain damage that resulted in depression.

 

Hey Dude! Catch This Wave!

For a few years, I did a pretty fair amount of mountain biking.  I even had two "crews" I rode with.  In one of them, I was the only white, non-Caribbean rider; in the other I was the oldest.  We rode, went out to eat, went to movies and engaged in all sorts of ribaldry.   And we talked a lot of trash--to and about each other and everyone else in the world, it seemed--all in good fun, of course.

I have never surfed, but somehow this milieu reminded me of what I always imagine "boarders" enjoyed with each other.  We had a kind of high-octane testosterone-fueled camaraderie and egged each other on in making fast turns and drops and, on occasion, chatting up women.  (Oh, if they could see me now..;-)).  Much of the slang we, and other mountain bikers, used at that time was that of surfers.  Someone who took a tumble "wiped out", tough terrain was "gnarly" and anything particularly pleasurable or exhilarating was "bitchin'! and could leave us "stoked".

Oh, yeah, and the way we, and other mountain bikers used the word "dude".  Yes, it was a slang term for anyone male, but it was also used as an all-purpose rhetorical exclamation. "Du-u--de!" Lots of riders would yell it when bombing down a steep drop. 

It all made sense to me when I realized that in some ways, mountain biking--especially the downhill variety--has a similar thrill, a kind of adrenaline rush, that "riding the waves" does.  Even cross-country riding has some of that feel:  When you ride fast through turns and over rocks, creeks and such, after a certain point, it's not about how hard or fast you're pedaling; you stay on your bike and move forward to the degree that you can ride the "waves" of whatever terrain your tire treads roll over.

So, I guess, it does make sense that someone actually created this:




From Charlie Kelly's website

"Soon to Revolutionize Self Propelled (sic) Recreational Vehicles"?  It must really be revolutionary if the rider doesn't need a helmet or other protective equipment!

Why Do--And Don't--Women Ride?

In late 2014, People for Bikes commissioned a study on women's participation in cycling.

Its findings confirmed some things I'd suspected but revealed other things that surprised me.

My own experiences and observations have shown me that more males than females cycle.  According to the study, 45 million women ride a bicycle at least once a year, compared to 59 million men.  In other words, about 43 percent of all adult cyclists are women.  Given what I've seen, I'm not surprised by those statistics. 

Nor am I surprised by another PfB finding, interesting as it is:  Boys and girls ride bikes at the same rate at ages three to nine.  At ten years of age, girls and women start to ride less than men and boys. The gap grows as they grow older, and is its widest at ages 55 and older.

That, in spite of something else the surveys revealed:  Almost the same numbers of women and men say they would like to bike more often.  One of the reasons women most commonly cite for not cycling is simply not having a working bicycle available at home.  This is a factor for somewhat higher of numbers of women than for men. 

Safety concerns are another deterrent to cycling for many women. While the numbers of women who worry about being struck by a car is roughly equal to the numbers of men who express such concerns, women are much more likely than men to cite fears about their own personal safety as a reason for not cycling.

One of the study's revelations that surprised me somewhat is that 94 percent of female cyclists rode for recreation while  68 percent rode for transportation to and from social and leisure activities.  Actually, I'm only somewhat surprised by the second figure, but more so by the first, based on my own observations and impressions here in New York City.

The most surprising part of the study (at least to me) is this:  A much higher percentage (31) of women with children than without (19) rode at least once a year.  Then again, the study found the same held true for men (46 vs. 31 percent).  These contradict a UCLA study that suggested women don't ride because they need their cars to handle childcare responsibilities. 

Knowing about the People for Bikes study leads me to wonder whether women's actual and perceived barriers to cycling can be overcome--and whether doing so would change the ways in which women ride.  If more women started to ride to work, and if more of us started to ride our bikes to social and other activities, would more women take up long-distance touring, racing and other genres of cycling in which the gap between women's and men's participation is even greater?

A Tube That Pumps Itself

Yesterday I wrote about airless bicycle tires.  The Zeus LCM tires I tried about thirty years ago made my bike about as quick as a donkey cart and gave it the handling of a shopping cart.  And, from what I read, it actually did less to deaden a bike's performance than other airless tires available at that time (about 30 to 35 years ago).  So it was no surprise that they all but disappeared a few years later.

I've been around long enough not to be surprised that there are attempts to revive the idea.  The new airless tires, and the insert made by Hutchinson, all have, from what I understand, the same drawbacks as the old airless tires:  a large increase in rotating weight (especially on road bikes), a hard, dead feel and difficulty of installation and removal.

Companies and individuals are reviving the idea because of people's fear of getting--or, more precisely, getting their hands dirty in fixing-- them.  When people learn that I ride bikes, the most common question is, "What do you do about flats?" While, in my mind, my younger, snarky self is saying, "I wear them when I'm not wearing my heels," I explain that fixing a flat is not a complicated process and that I carry a little vial of waterless hand cleaner if I'm going to work or some other place where I have to be presentable.

 When I've worked in bike shops, led rides and volunteered with organizations like American Youth Hostels and Recycle-A-Bicycle, I've told people that the one bike repair they should all learn is how to fix a flat.  I've also told them that if they do no other bike maintenance, they should keep their chains lubed and their tires properly inflated. 

Someone who's afraid to fix a flat also probably won't pump his or her tires if they're not obviously flat.  I think that people don't realize that all tires "exhale" air, and that such gradual air losses are less noticeably in car tires because it's less noticeable, given the greater volume of air.  They might go weeks or even longer before inflating their car tires, but probably need to inflate bike tires every week or two.

Then, of course--as with fixing flats and other bike maintenance--there are those who are too lazy or scared to do it.

For them, there is inventor Benjamin Krempel's creation, called the PumpTube.

A cutaway diagram of the Pump Tube.  The beige element represents the pumping mechanism.  From Gizmag.

It consists of a regular inner tube with a one-way valve in the valve stem. That valve draws in air which doesn't go directly into the main body of the inner tube. Instead, the air goes into one end of a tube-like pumping mechanism, which runs along the outside perimeter of the inner tube.  As the tire rolls along the ground or street, the pumping mechanism is compressed, which forces air into the inner tube.  The resulting absence of air in the pumping mechanism creates a vacuum effect, drawing more air into the valve. 

I should also mention that there is a dial on the valve stem that can be used to set the "target" pressure.  Once that pressure is reached, no more air is pulled in.

The mechanism in the PumpTube is probably useful in compensating for normal seepage or to counteract pinhole leaks.  Krempel admits that a larger punctures would  probably need to be repaired.

It will be interesting to see whether the PumpTube is actually helpful, especially to commuters and other utility cyclists.   If nothing else, it does overcome--somewhat--a drawback of one of Krempel's earlier inventions, the PumpTires.  As you may have guessed, it was a tire that had the same sort of mechanism as the PumpTube.  The problem with the PumpTire--aside from the fact that it requires users to give up their regular tires--is that once the tire tread wears away, the pumping mechanism is compromised. 

Plans call for Pump Tubes to be compatible with regular 700 C and 26 inch tires. Krempel says that once he perfects the design, he plans to start a Kickstarter campaign to produce PumpTubes, which are expected to sell for US $30 to $55 per unit.

Letting The Air Out

Tubeless tires for bicycles have been available for about two decades.  I have never used them myself, but I understand how they are useful for some riders, particularly mountain bikers.  While most road cyclists' flats are the result of punctures from road debris, mountain bikers are more likely to incur pinch flats that result from riding tires at low pressures, which causes the tube to be squeezed between the ground and the rim. If I were to become an active mountain bike rider again, I just might try tubeless tires.

I once tried another product created with the aim of preventing flat tires. 

Imagine a (say, 27 inch or 700C) donut made from the kind of rubber used to make tire casings.  That "donut" is solid; it does not have a hollow core into which air can be pumped, let alone one that can accommodate a tube. 

As you can imagine, installing such a tire was not easy:  It didn't even have the "stretch" of a tight-fitting tubed tire with a particularly stiff bead.  (I thought it was difficult to put those old Specialized Turbo tires on Weinmann concave rims until I tried installing one of the solid tires I mentioned!)  Removing it wasn't easy, either. 

That tire--the Zeus LCM--was available for a few years from the late 1970's to the mid-1980's.  Frank, the proprietor of Highland Park (NJ) Cyclery, stocked a few only because a few customers wanted them.  He also kept a pair of wheels fitted with those tires so would-be customers could try them before committing.  During the time I was working at HPC, he allowed me to borrow them for a few of rides.

If I thought those tires were hard in my hands, they were even harder on the road. They felt like they were made of cement!  Believe it or not, I actually did a half-century, in addition to riding to and from work for a few days, on them.  Never before had I ridden so slowly and felt so banged-up after riding:  The Zeus tires lacked the buoyance of pneumatic tires.  I found myself wondering whether I had just experienced what riding on a "boneshaker" must have felt like!


By the way, those Zeus tires were made in the US and bore no relationship to the Basque/Spanish bicycle and bicycle component manufacturer. Ironically, the only items on Zeus bikes that weren't made by the company were--you guessed it--the tires (and, in the case of clinchers, tubes). 

Around the same time those Zeus tires were on the market, a few similar products were being made.  Also, at least one other company made and marketed a solid foam inner tube, and another made a closed-cell foam inner tube with a hollow core which, as Retrogrouch pointed out, was like a big elastomer.  They were even heavier, slower and harsher-riding than the Zeus donuts.

Those products apparently disappeared around the mid-to-late 1980s.  

Sometimes it seems that if an idea is silly, impractical or bad enough, its time will come, or come again.  (That could make Victor Hugo turn in his grave!)   So, would you be surprised to find out that someone is making closed-cell foam tire inserts  again?  For me, the only surprise is that one of the most respected tire makers--Hutchinson--is behind it.  They don't sell that insert alone, but as part of their "Serenity" tire, which is like one of their city tires (I forget the name of it ) with a tough casing. 

From the Tannus website

Knowing that, you also probably won't be surprised to know that another company--Tannus--is reviving the idea of the Zeus tire.  Like the Zeus, it's a fully-molded solid tire that come in an array of neon colors that would have sent even Valley Girls running and hiding.



As George Santayana said, those who ignore the past are doomed to repeat it.  The pneumatic tire is one of the most important inventions in the history of the human race, and certainly the most important bicycle-related inventions.  Without that chamber of air floating and cushioning the bike and its riders, the bicycle, most likely, still couldn't be faster than a horse, even with Eddy Mercx pedaling.

 

The Family After The Storm?

After The Fall That Would't end (Did I want it to?), winter finally came right about the time I took off for Florida.  Since I came back nearly two weeks ago, I haven't done much riding.  In fact, today I got on my bike for the first time since last weekend, when a blizzard dumped more than two feet (65 cm) of snow on us.

The day after the storm, a travel ban was in place, which meant that all non-emergency vehicles were banned from the city's streets.  Now, nobody defined exactly what "emergency" means, so there were a handful of cars slipping and sliding along the roads.  The only cyclists I saw were making deliveries for local restaurants and diners.

I could have ridden a couple of days ago, but I was busy preparing for a new job I started on Friday.  More about that later.  Also, I was working on a bike-related and a writing project.

But I got out for two and a half hours this afternoon.  The weather was mild for this time of year:  10C (50F) late this afternoon.  Most of the snow is gone, but there are some mounds in out-of-the-way spots, like the parking lot of the Long Island Rail Road station in Hunters Point:

Hmm...Was she feeding her young?  Or instructing him?

Has the one on the left turned his back on her? Is he an absentee father, a shadow?

After I took the photos (on my cell camera), I resumed riding.  After all, I don't want to be involved in a family feud!

Horses Or Bikes, She Is A Real Freedom Rider

As you’ve no doubt heard by now, last month marked forty years since the release of Patti Smith’s album Horses. 

I was a senior in high school then.  It semed that my classmates fell into one of three categories:  the ones who loved it and didn’t want it to end, the ones who were looking forward to college or whatever else they were going to do after graduation, and those who just couldn’t wait to get out.

Those of us in the third category were, in one way or another, the class “geeks”.  Most of us were bookish; nearly all of us had some interest or talent that wasn’t fashionable in that high school where the unofficial motto seemed to be, “If you can’t f*ck it, smoke it or drive it and it ain’t Led Zep’, it ain’t worth it.”  More than a few of us read and/or wrote poetry or songs we would perform only for very close friends (who, naturally, were as introverted as we were); we loved poets like Patti who, we felt, told the truth—at least as we understood it at the time.

I had been writing stories, articles for the school newspaper and stuff I can’t categorize—most of which I lost or destroyed along the way from then to now.  Around that time, I started writing what some might call “free verse” poetry, or simply chopped-up sentences.  Whether or not it was “any good” (Let’s face it, how much of anything that we do at that age is?) is, I realize now, not the point, any more than whether or not I had the capability of becoming a world-class racer did or didn’t make the amount of cycling I was doing “worth it”.  Yes, I wrote and rode—as I do now—because I enjoyed those activities.  But more important, I could not envision life without them.

Actually, that’s not quite right.  I did those things, not only for pleasure, but also for survival.  And, in those days, the work of a poet like Patti Smith or Gregory Corso or Arthur Rimbaud was sustenance for “the journey”, whatever that might be.

I think what I really loved and admired about Patti Smith, though, was something I couldn’t articulate at the time, or for a long time afterward.  Now I’ll express it as best I can:  She did something interesting and unique, whatever its flaws (which I only vaguely understood at the time) and did it on her own terms.  At a time when I still did not have the terms or tools to articulate, let alone embody, the “differentness” I saw in myself—which others, especially the adults in my life, misunderstood as “rebelliousness”—Patti Smith gave us an image of how someone can become someone only he or she can become. 

When Horses came out, she was often described as “androgynous” because of the way she was dressed, and the way she carried herself, in the photo on the album’s cover.  The truth, I realized even then, was that she was actually showing that it was possible to be a woman in a way that didn’t fit into the boxes constructed by the governing institutions and individuals of our society.

She upset those authority figures in much the same way as the women who abandoned their corsets and hoopskirts for shorter skirts or “bloomers” so they could ride bicycles in the 1890’s. Most of those women weren’t consciously rebelling; they simply to wanted to live their lives as they saw fit.    

It might take a long time but, ultimately, independent spirits who realize their visions change the world and inspire us while those who try to suppress such spirits or the change they engender are forgotten or even vilified.  Most people, at least in the industrialized countries, think nothing of women wearing pants or skirts that don’t constrict their movement, and of working in what were once considered in “men’s” jobs.

Or of writing a line like, “Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine."

Knowing what I’ve just said, are you surprised to see this image of Patti Smith?:

They Were Sooo Continental

You don't wear Continental clothes or a Stetson hat!

That line comes from Otis Redding's Tramp.  The song is an argument between a woman and Otis.  She accuses him of being a tramp because, as she says, he's "straight out of the Georgia woods". 

 

 

We in the United States of America are as continental--in the literal sense of that word--as anyone in the world.  After all, we occupy a large part of the North American continent.  However, when we say "Continental", we use it in the way the British mean it:  of mainland Europe, particularly France, Italy or Germany.

Even though we Yanks like to think we tossed off the yoke of the British crown, it seems that we still emulate them in every way we can.  We speak their language. We may have a different accent, but so often, we mean it the way they do--sometimes even more so.

And so it is with the adjective "continental".  It not only refers to the geographical location; it also has the connotation of "sophisticated", "refined" or "elegant".  Or it can be just a politically correct way of saying "exotic" or a polite way of saying "sexy".  And here, as in Blighty, it is also a way of saying "French" without saying it.  (Hmm...What if "Freedom Fries" were called "Continental Chips"?)

That latter connotation was commonly employed in British cycle advertising just after World War II. Before the big fight, the worlds of British cycling and the British cycling industry were very insular.  Brits thought, as Americans would in the years just after the war, that if it was made in their country, it must be better. 

In some cases, their biases had at least some basis in truth.  Pre-war Schwinn Paramounts were built from Accles and Pollock tubing; all over the world, some of the finest frames have been, and still are, constructed from Reynolds tubesets.  Six-day racers favored BSA components, particularly their cranks, pedals and hubs; town bicycles all over the world were equipped with Sturmey Archer hubs and, to this day, all manner of bikes in every place imaginable sport Brooks saddles.

However, for all the vibrancy of the club-cycling scene, bicycling in Britain was still, in the main, utilitarian.  On the other hand, France, Italy and other countries on "The Continent" had lively cultures of racing, and many people, at least superficially, emulated the riders of the peloton.    It is said that British service members who fought on "The Continent" brought back a taste for Contiental bikes and parts--as well as other things.

British Cyclo Gears with 1/8" chain

British cyclists started to demand bikes with derailleurs.  However, until 1954, Raleigh did not supply any bikes with them.  And, in 1955 British Cyclo were still making most of their cogs for 1/8" chains, even though increasing demand for three- and four-speed freewheels meant that more and more riders wanted and needed cogs for 3/32" chains.  Other bike and parts manufacturers in Britain were slow to respond to those changes.  In fact, some simply continued to offer the same products the were making before the war, as if it were somehow unpatriotic to pattern new products after, let alone offer, the freewheels, derailleurs and such that were made mainly in France.

Once they started to make or import (as Ron Kitching did) those items, they were still loath to make Gallic references.  So, those items--particularly, for some reason, large-flange hubs--were called "Continental" parts.  In an article he wrote on the Classic Lightweights UK site, Steve Griffiths said this habit may have been inspired by the Prior hubs made in France during the 1930s, which had some of the largest flanges (and most profuse drilling) ever seen. 

Prior Hubs. I love them.  Did someone use Spirograph to design them?

The flanges on that hub were riveted to smaller flanges which, as on most hubs at the time, were attached to a steel shaft.  So, the British Hub Company did the same with their Airlite hubs.   Collectors pay more for Priors and Airlite Continentals than most people pay for bikes.  They look interesting and, from what I've read, they spin smoothly. However, they both share a problem:  Prolonged use can loosen the rivets.

They're Continental, all right.  So is Swiss cheese.