Vera Shows Off Her New Accessories

I didn't have to work.  So I slept later and my day got off to, shall we say, a more leisurely start than I'd originally planned.

So I didn't take as long or ambitious a bike ride as I might've.  Still, I managed to get in about 100 kilometers, on a bike I haven't ridden in a while:  Vera, my green Mercian mixte.

A sweet ride she is.  And she's had a slight makeover.

From the saddle forward, she hasn't changed.  It is below the saddle, and to the rear, where she sports a new look:

When Velo Orange had a sale, I decided to go for a constructeur rack and some of those beautiful Rustines elastic cords.   At first, I was skeptical of a rack that rests on the fenders.  But, as Chris at VO and others point out, the fender doesn't actually bear the weight.  Nor, for that matter, do the struts on racks that attach to the rear stays.  Rather, those struts--and the fender--act as stabilizers.  Rather, the load is borne by the rack itself, which is surprisingly strong.

It real benefit, though, is that it sits lower than other kinds of racks.  We all know that the lower the center of gravity, the more stable the bike is. And, on a bike with a load, stability translates into speed.

All right.  I'll admit it:  The real reason I went for the rack is the look.  It really seems right, I think, on a classic twin-stay mixte.  Plus, the rack matches the one on the front. 

Indulgent, perhaps.  But Vera doesn't seem to mind, and it didn't seem to make the bike faster or slower.  But I'm liking it, so far.

Five Cyclists Mowed Down In Michigan

Yesterday, I wrote a post-mortem for Jocelyn Lovell, whose career was cut short when a dump truck ran him down and broke his neck.  He would live the second half of his life, which ended last Friday, as a quadriplegic.  The trauma nurse who helped to airlift him to Toronto Sunnybrook Hospital immediately recognized him when he returned 18 months later for a round of rehabilitation.  She rushed to his side, grasped his hand and tearfully exclaimed, "Jocelyn, we thought you were going to die!"

Whatever miracles, whatever interventions, kept him in this world for the next 32 years weren't forthcoming for five cyclists near Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Debra Ann ("Debbie") Bradley, Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Fred Anton (Tony) Nelson, Lorenz John (Larry) Paulik and Suzanne Joan Sippel were all run down from behind by a blue Chevy pickup truck.

Melissa Fevig-Hughes

In the minutes before the tragedy, police were seeking that vehicle after receiving three separate calls saying that it was being driven erratically.  The driver, a 50-year-old area resident, is in custody while authorities decide on what charges should be filed against him.  Among them might be one for DWI, according to the latest reports available as of this writing.

 

Suzanne Sippel

One very notable aspect of this story is that the victims were all experienced cyclists who had been riding with each other weekly for more than a decade.  Ms. Fevig-Hughes, age 42, was the youngest of them, while Mr. Paulik, 74, was the oldest. Another disturbing aspect of this tragedy is that it struck in daylight, on a street in a residential area.  At least one witness tried to alert the cyclists and the driver, to no avail.

Debbie Bradley

Four other area cyclists were injured and are hospitalized.  Jennifer Lynn Johnson is in fair condition, while Paul Douglas Gobble, Sheila Diane Jeske and Paul Lewis Runnels are in serious condition.

 

Tony Nelson

According to witnesses, these cyclists were a familiar sight to many in the area and were known to abide by all laws, regulations and accepted safety practices.  Thus, according to Paul Seiden, "The tragedy underscores the need for increased awareness and re-dedication on the part of the community as a whole to the safety of bicyclists when they're on the road."  Seiden, the director of road safety for the Kalamazoo Cycle Club, added, "In an accident like this, everybody loses."

Larry Paulik

 Truer words have never been said.  As a fellow cyclist and human, my thoughts are with Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel and their families and friends.  I can only be thankful that I have not met a fate like theirs, and hopeful that I never will.

In Memoriam: Jocelyn Lovell, Canada's First Cycling Star

The star was ascending.  Or so it seemed.

The time:  late 1970's-early 1980s.  The place:  North America. 

The '70's Bike Boom was over.  Some people discovered bicycle touring during the heady summer of Bikecentennial.  Not many stuck with it:  careers and families and such detoured them.  (Also, some had a "been there, done that" attitude after touring the country.)  And whatever awareness people might have developed about bike touring, or any type of cycling done by adults, didn't translate into a lifestyle of which cycling would be an integral part.  They continued to drive to work, school and for shopping and recreational activities.  They might take the bike for a spin in the park, but it was a novelty, much as taking a horseback ride during a vacation is for many people.

Still, there were some signs that the United States and Canada might one day join some of European countries and Japan among the elite cycling nations.  Nancy Burghart had dominated women's racing during the 1960's.  During the following decade, a new generation of American women would dominate the field to an even greater degree.  In fact, one could argue that Mary Jane ("Miji") Reoch, Sue Novara, Connie Carpenter and Rebecca Twigg turned the US into the first "superpower" of women's cycling.

Men's racing on this side of the Atlantic (and Pacific) was also improving by leaps and bounds, though they were pedaling through longer shadows cast by such riders as Anquetil, Mercx and Hinault.  Still, during the period in question, the world began to notice American male cyclists, especially after they took home seven medals, including three golds, in the 1984 Olympics:  the first time American men won any hardware since the 1912 games. (Connie Carpenter and Rebecca Twigg won the gold and silver, respectively, in the inaugural women's Olympic road race that year.)

Canada wasn't about to be left out of the picture.  In those same Olympic games, Steve Bauer took the silver medal in the men's road race, and Curt Harnett did the same in the 1 km time trial.  In the road race, someone you've probably heard of finished 33rd:  Louis Garneau.  Yes, the one with the line of bike clothing and helmets. 

Although Bauer's and Harnett's victories were sweet for our friends to the north, they highlighted the absence of another rider who, many believed, could have won, or at least challenged for, a medal:  Jocelyn Lovell.

Six years earlier, he'd won three gold medals at the Commonwealth Games.  Later that same year, captured the silver medal at the World Cycling championships. Those victories highlighted a career that saw him win medals in other Commonwealth as well as Pan American games, as well as numerous national titles, throughout the 1970s.  He also represented Canada in the 1968, 1972 and 1976 Olympics--the latter of which were held in Montreal. 

Lovell at the 1976 Olympics in Montreal

Like the United States, Canada boycotted the 1980 Summer Olympics, in protest of the then-Soviet Union's invasion of Afghanistan.  Thus Lovell didn't make the trip to Moscow, where the Games were held.  He turned 30 during the course of the games.   It seemed, then, that if Lovell were to ride in the 1984 Olympics, they would probably be his last.

But he never had that opportunity.  A year before the opening ceremony in Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, tragedy befell Jocelyn Lovell. Late in the afternoon of 4 August 1983, he was out on one of his daily training rides near his Missisauga, Ontario home.  A pair of dump trucks approached him from behind as he crested a hill. The first swung around him.  The second ploughed over him.

That he wasn't killed was a miracle. However, from that moment onward, he would never move any part of his body below his shoulders, ever again. 

According to friends and acquaintances, he never accepted his fate.  He always said that one day, he'd be on a bike again.  He may well have said that on Friday, 3 June:  the day his battle ended, at age 65. 

Such an ending is particularly sad for someone who was noted for his souplesse:  his fluid form astride a bicycle.  Observers remarked that he and his bike simply seemed to belong together.  The terrible irony is that someone who had such physical grace would have to spend half of his life completely unable to use it.  He did, however, become an advocate for spinal cord research and other related causes.

Although relatively few in the US know about him, any of us who are cyclists and benefit in any way from the current interest in cycling owe him a debt of gratitude:  He helped to put our continent on the cycling map.  And he always kept his hope alive.  What is more American than that?

Is It Your Father's Tool Kit? Or Is It "Retro"?

When it was new, the Peugeot in yesterday's post more than likely came with a Mafac tool kit.

Mafac took kit

Back in those days, Raleigh bicycles came with what is still commonly known as the "Raleigh spanner". (It is English, after all, so it's a "spanner", not a "wrench".)

Raleigh spanner

If you have an old Raleigh or almost any bike with derailleurs and caliper brakes made before the 1980's, that spanner or tool kit are very useful.   And for "freebies", they were actually quite well-made.  However, they are not very useful on most of today's bikes or components.

I still have a soft spot for them, though.  Other companies made similar items.  For example, REG of Italy--which also made water bottle cages and other accessories--made a tool kit very similar to the Mafac.  The REG came in a cute red pouch, made of thicker but more brittle material than the black (or sometimes brown) pouches that held the Mafac tools and Dissoplast patches and glue.  

There was another tool kit that was, essentially, the Mafac minus the socket wrench and the wrench with the spoke keys.  It came in a pouch with a similar shape to the Mafac, but with thinner but more supple material:  like something you might find on a rather fashionable piece of luggage.  And it was embossed with the name of the bike maker that included them with their new machines:  Gitane.

Gitane tool kit

Just for its uniquess, that is my favorite set of retro-tools.  Now, as for Gitane bikes:  They could be the very epitome of Frenchness. Or not.  They could be wonderful or awful.  But they were known for not sticking to the specifications lists in their catalogues:  When I was working in bike shops, we used to joke that it was the reason why Gitane didn't make their catlogues very available!  Sometimes that worked for the better:  One or two of their models would come with Sugino Maxi or Takagi Tourney cotterless cranksets instead of the steel cottered models so common on European bikes of that time, or a SunTour derailleur for one from Simplex or Huret.  Other times, they just substituted something that was just as bad, or a little less bad, than the original specification.

But I digress.  I always thought their tool kit was neat, even if it wasn't different from Mafac's.  And, oh, while we're on the subject, you've surely seen "dogbone" or "dumbbell" wrenches.  I had one of those when that was about the only multi-tool available besides the Raleigh spanner or Campagnolo T-wrench.

Campagnolo T-Wrench

It seems that someone wanted to combine all of the "retro" tool kits into one--complete with tire irons. (Yes, we used to call them that because, well, they were made from iron, or cheap steel.)  And, because it's a "gift" item, the resulting kit comes in a faux-decorator box.

"Gentlemen's" tool  kit

I'll admit, it is kinda cute.  But because it's a "gentlemen's" kit, I'm not qualified to own one.  Nor was I ever!

How Much Is That Bike-ee In The Window?

According to bike lore, Gary Fisher, Joe Breeze and their buddies bombed down Marin county fire trails on pre-war Schwinn baloon-tire bikes they bought for five dollars at local thrift shops.  Their experiences with those machines led them to develop the rigs we now call "mountain bikes".

Now, I wasn't there to see the runs down Sonoma hills. But I can attest to the five-dollar baloon-tire bombers.  Around that time, I saw bikes like those--and others--in thrift stores.  Sometimes they cost even less than what Fisher and Breeze paid.  Or people would give them away when they moved or cleaned out basements or garages.

You see, in those days--the mid-1970s--the concept of "retro" didn't exist.  Old stuff was, well, old stuff.  Going to a thrift shop wasn't cool:  You did it because you were poor or "not with it".  Old baloon tire bikes were relics thought to be unsuited to the "Bike Boom", which prized ten-speeds, of whatever quality, above all else.

Fast-forward four decades.  If you can find one of those old Schwinns--or even a Columbia or Murray of that era--call your credit card company and request a spending limit increase before you bid on it.  

And what of those bike-boom era ten-speeds?  Well, you might luck into one without paying for it if you know someone who's moving in or out and has to clear out a basement, garage, barn, shed or other storage space. But, it seems, the days of buying one with the loose change you found in your couch cushions are over.

This Peugeot---I'm guessing it's a UO8--looks like it was just pulled out of the East River.  I mean, when a plastic Simplex derailleur looks almost as rusty as the chain, you know the bike hasn't been kept in a climate-controlled environment.

How much is that bike-eee in the window?  Well, if you have to ask....Seriously, it had a price tag:  $125.

Now, I know that's not high for a used bike these days.  But if you have any intention of riding the bike, you'd probably have to spend as much, or even more, to refurbish it.  

That price, by the way, is more than what the bike originally cost:  about 90 dollars, back around 1970.  I know the bike is from around that year because of certain details (I've seen lots of Peugeots) and because of the faded dealer sticker from Carl Hart Bicycles of 1120 Cortelyou Road, Brooklyn, NY, with a telephone number that had letters rather than numbers for its first two digits!

Given the other stuff that's in the shop, I suspect that if anyone who might buy that Peugeot isn't going to ride it.  Instead, he or she will use it for "wall art" in a coffee shop or bar or some such place.  Then, when the vogue for such decor dies out, where will the bike end up?  (That was a rhetorical question:  You know the answer!)