The Wheels Are Turning...

So...back to my estate-sale find.

A few days ago, I started to mention what I might do about the wheels.  The front wheel that came with the bike was a "goner".  That made me want to build another rear because the wheels that came with it have 27 inch rims and tires.  I haven't used that size in years and no longer have it in any of my spare parts.  I really would like not to buy any new ones.

But the rear wheel is laced to a Phil Wood hub, which I would love to use.  The problem is, it has 48 spokes.  I don't have any rims in that pattern, though I'm sure I could get one--at least in a 700C size, which I probably will use.  However, I think it might be more difficult to find in the 650B size, which I am also considering.

I think I will end up building 700C wheels for a few  reasons.  One is that I have some 700C rims drilled for 36 spokes.  They include Mavic Open Pros and Sun CR-18s.  I would probably use the latter, as I want to use 32C (or possibly even wider) tires and the CR-18 would look more "right" with the other equipment, I think.  Plus, I like to keep the Open Pros (which I bought on sales) as spares for my Mercians.

Another reason why I'm leaning toward 700C is that if I go to 650B, I will definitely need new brakes.  I know I could probably get a good buy on those long-arm Tektros or something else,  so my reluctance to spend money is only somewhat of a factor.  More important, from the measurements I've made and charts I've looked at, even those long Tektros might not have enough reach for 650B.  Remember, the bike was made for 27 inch rims, which are even larger in diameter than 700s, let alone 650s.

Whichever way I go, though, I think I know which hubs I'll use.

Turns out, this rear Sansin Gyromaster is the sealed-bearing model.  From what I understand, it's the one Specialized rebranded for those great touring bikes they made in the early and mid-'80's.  It's also the one SunTour rebranded for one of its groupsets--the Cyclone, I think.





So I know it's a good hub, and appropriate for the bike.  Best of all, the locknut-to-locknut width is 126mm (actually, 127mm according to my calipers):  the width of the dropouts on the bike. It has 36 holes, just like my rims. And it just so happens I opened it up not too long ago and put in some fresh grease.

I'll do the same for this Suzue sealed bearing front hub, which also has 36 holes.  I recall that this hub came as original equipment on some of those nice touring bikes Miyata, Panasonic and other companies were making around the time my Trek was built.  If I'm not mistaken, it also came on some Treks--but not mine.

So, if I use those hubs--which I probably will--I eventually will have to decide what to do with the rear wheel that came with the bike. I suppose I could keep it, though I don't know when I'll use it, as I'll probably never build a tandem or a fully-loaded touring bike with 27 inch wheels.  I suppose I could try to sell it, though the market for a 27 inch wheel of that kind might be kind of limited.  (If someone out there has an old Schwinn Paramount tandem...)  Or I could take the wheel apart and try to sell the hub...and, if anyone wants a vintage Super Champion 58 rim in 27 inch with 48 holes, that, too.

So, in brief, 700 would be the practical choice and 650B would be an experiment.  

Ah, choices...

Does That Thing Have A Heater?

"Do you have a heater on that thing?"

So shouted a random stranger as I rode by.  I simply smiled and winked, though I doubt he saw the latter under my shades.

If I had stopped to talk to him, I might've said something like "This weather brings out my natural glow."  Of course, he wouldn't have known that I might not have a natural glow.  But that'll be our little secret, dear reader.

Anyway, I just had to get out for a ride.  December and May are for college instructors what March and April are for tax accountants.  I feel like I'm in that scene from Fantasia in which the brooms multiply.  The difference is, of course, is that instead of brooms, the papers are reproducing themselves everywhere I turn.  And, although I'm always learning something new (or so I hope), I am not an apprentice.  At least, I'm not considered one.



Back to the ride:  The gentleman who wondered how I could ride in the cold (about -2C or 28F, which is the coldest it's been so far this season) was walking his dog along a block of houses that are more expensive than they seem on the South Shore of Long Island.  I was, again, riding to Point Lookout on a day when about the only people walking along those streets or on the beaches were accompanied by dogs, mostly big ones.

I guess today seems polar to some people because we've had a mild fall:  In fact, I don't think the temperature fell below 5C (40F) before this week.  Interestingly, we had strong winds, sometimes as much as 80KPH (50 MPH) the other day and last weekend.  But today's air was still, which may be the reason why the weather didn't seem cold to me.

It was also probably the reason why, without any unusual effort, I kept a good pace along the flat route.   Interestingly, the only climbs I encounter are near the beginning and near the end of my ride.  Neither are long, but both are fairly steep, or seem so as they seem to erupt from the flat stretches that precede them.

The funny thing about today's ride--which left me invigorated and refreshed after 105 kilometers--was that, as I rode, I saw winter more than I felt it.  I mean, it was a bit colder than it's been and I was wearing more layers than I wore, say, a couple of weeks ago.  And I could feel the chill on my face. But, in spite of the fact that I haven't ridden much during the past couple of weeks, I wasn't feeling the cold or even a nip in the rest of my body and I felt supple, in spite of how little I've ridden during the past couple of weeks. 

The signs of the coming season were in the clouds, in the light of this day, and in the graying waves that receded into the horizon that offered a hint of a distant sunset.

I love riding under this sky, with the first hint of winter, because they are somehow intimate to me in ways that the summer light--as much as I love that, too--is not.  Perhaps it has to do with the fact that so few people are out on a day like this, and those who are--by choice--appreciate the austere beauty of such a day.

The snow that was forecast has begun to fall.  It won't last, and it won't accumulate, at least not in the Five Boroughs.  But the northern suburbs of Westchester and Rockland Counties and Connecticut might get a layer of frosting on the cake while we get a dusting, perhaps a coating.

Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear, does not have a heater, in response to the man's question.  And I'm glad she doesn't.    I wonder, though,  whether this guy (or girl) has a heater:

Who Needs What?

A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.

When I first heard that phrase, it was attributed to Gloria Steinem or Flo Kennedy.  Neither, though, has ever claimed authorship of it. Steinem, however,  once attributed it to Irene Dunn, who in turn says she was paraphrasing Charles Harris, an American psychologist who supposedly wrote "A man without faith is like a fish without a bicycle" in an article he wrote for the Swarthmore College newspaper while he was an undergraduate there during the 1950s.

But even Harris admitted that the expression probably existed long before then.  Indeed, an 1898 editorial in the Hartford Courant, a Connecticut newspaper, opined:

   The place [Aragon, Spain] didn't need an American consul any more than a cow needs a bicycle; for it had no trade with America and no American tourist ever dreamed of stopping there.  

Well, as Groucho Marx said, "You've got a point there.  Now why don't you go and put a hat over it."  I mean, a cow or a fish may not need a bicycle.  But so what?  Who's to say they can't have a bicycle if that's what they want?

Better yet--what if the fish wants to be a bicycle?

From Web Ecoist