Skyline, Invisible

Have you ever wondered what the Manhattan skyline looks like when you can't see it?

That was not an attempt to be cute, clever, ironic or oxymoronic.  It's also not an introduction to a post about going blind, an experience I hope never to have!

Rather, it is about my ride to work this morning:

That's what I saw ahead of me as I pedaled across the RFK Memorial Bridge.  Even if the weather forecast hadn't warned about fog, I wouldn't have been surprised to see it, given the heavy rains in the wee hours of yesterday morning, the showers that continued on-and-off through the rest of yesterday, and this morning's heavy gray sky. 


The skyline was invisible, but the Hell Gate Bridge was not:

When Hell Gate can be seen clearly, but the skyline is shrouded in fog, what kind of a day will it be?

So far, it's been good.  I think it had something to do with riding to work.

Purple Ride

All you have to do is look at Arielle, Tosca and Helene--my three custom Mercians--to know what my favorite color is.

And, although I am more of a Purple Haze fan, I certainly loved Purple Rain--and the artist who made it his signature song.

I am talking about His Royal Badness, or The Artist Formerly Known As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince.  It's hard to believe that in not much more than two weeks, a year will have gone by since he left us.

Not surprisingly, there have been some lavish tributes.  But perhaps none is as unique or interesting as the one Erik Noren has just made for Anna Schwinn.

Anna Schwinn with her Prince tribute bike.

Yes, she is one of those Schwinns.  She had contacted Noren of Peacock Groove Bicycles about getting a custom bike built for her.  Then, after Prince's death, she decided to make it a tribute.

Erik Noren of Peacock Groove Bicycles

Although Noren has built tribute bikes and other machines in unconventional configurations, he says he was intimidated at first.  "How do you take his spirit, his music and what he did, and put that into a bike?," he wondered.

The first thing he thought about, he said, was style.  Prince "was never gaudy," Noren explained.  "He was always classic and classy."  After he constructed a color scheme and theme, word got out about his project.  Soon he received messages from vendors and even associates of Prince himself, offering to donate items and materials to be used in the commemorative cycle.

Noren is justified in believing that what he turned out befits its namesake. Last month, it won awards for the Best Theme and Best Bike In Show at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show.  While he is happy about the awards, he believes the greatest validation came from an audience of one:  Ms. Schwinn herself.

She took the bike out for a ride around Lake Minnetonka--only a few pedal strokes, if you will, from Prince's home--and dipped the wheels in the water.  Noren is glad she did that:  As visually striking as the bike is, he believes that it, like any other bike, "needs to be ridden."  The scratches and dings a bike picks up are "like scars on people:  they tell a story."  He is "excited that she's out making new stories on that bike."

I think the Purple One himself would approve.

A New Day, A New Wrap

Yesterday I managed to get in a nice ride along the coasts, from my place to the Rockways and Coney Island, along the Verrazano Narrows and up to Hipster Hook back to my place.

The morning was overcast but the afternoon turned bright and clear, if windy.  So I wasn't surprised to see strollers, dog-walkers and, yes, cyclists along the boardwalks and on the promenade under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.

Vera, my green Miss Mercian mixte, went for the ride, in part because I wanted to ride a bike with fenders:  There is still a lot of crud and "ponds" in the streets, courtesy of last week's snow and the rain we have had during much of the time since that storm.   If you have seen Vera in previous posts, you might see another reason why I wanted to take her out today:

Yes, I swapped the handlebars from Velo Orange Porteurs (which are on another of my bikes) for Nitto "Noodle bar".  The latter is my first choice for drop bars.  I wanted to try Vera with drops because she had them when I first acquired her.  Although I have liked her ride with the Porteurs, I have always had a feeling that she was designed for drop bars.

Also, I wanted to try some new handlebar tape:

I used two rolls of Newbaum's tape:  one in burnt orange, the other in khaki.  I chose Newbaum's tape for the colors and because I am curious as to how it might be different from other brands of cloth tape I've used.

I wrapped the bars in khaki, leaving gaps wide enough to be over-wrapped with the burnt orange.  Then, I finished the ends with regular jute twine I found in a Dollar Tree store.

  


After wrapping the bars, I gave them four light coats of clear shellac.  Although this wrap doesn't have the "sheen" I've seen on some other shellacked bars, I like the look:  The clear shellac darkened the colors slightly.  Also, even though it has a "harder" feel than un-shellacked (Is that a word?) tape, the tape retained much of its texture, which makes for a nice grip.  I think the "feel" may have to do with the fact that the Newbaum's tape is a bit thicker than other brands (Velox, Tressostar, Cateye) I've used. 

It will take a few rides, I think, to decide whether I like this kind of handlebar wrap.  I used to like regular, un-shellacked cloth, but it seemed that I had to replace it every season.  Then again, I could say the same for Cinelli (or any other brand of) cork wrap. 

The burnt orange, while not an exact match, is surprisingly close to the color of the Ruth Works rando bag on the front.  The bag has, of course, developed a bit of patina.  I imagine that if I keep on riding with this new tape, it will develop a similar "character" and perhaps be even more similar to the color of the bag.

The Price Of Riding Off Into The Sunset

Although I haven't dated anyone in a few years, I have been in more intimate relationships than the Roman Catholic Church (in which I was raised) says a person should have in his or her life.

Of those affairs and partnerships (which include one brief marriage), in only one was I able to share my passion for cycling.  

It was the relationship that ended with my gender transition.  Ironically, she and I had a Domestic Partnership Agreement which, in those days before legal same-sex marriage, was the tightest knot two people of the same gender could tie.  I used to joke that, as a male, I was living the dream of every lesbian of the time:  I shared a nice apartment in Park Slope with an attractive woman.

Even though my transition was what I wanted and need to do, I missed her for a long time.  Some of the best conversations and meals I've ever shared were with her. And, of course, there was the cycling, which included bike tours of the Loire Valley, a week of exploring the Paris region by bike, and day and weekend rides in Vermont, Massachusetts, upstate New York--and the environs of our fair city.

One of the best things, though, was that I didn't have to lie to her when I bought bikes or bike-related equipment.  Part of the reason was that I bought a bike for her and she bought one for me.  So, she knew what bikes, parts and the kit I wore cost.

Had we stayed together, I would not have shared this fear of so many other cyclists:

Tomorrow I will start writing about "serious" cycling topics again.  Really!

It Does It All For You!

Nobody, it seems, does practical urban bicycles quite like the Dutch.

It's been a while since I've been to Amsterdam. I'm sure it's as lovely as ever, and that cyclists feel right at home.  I hear, however, that because it's crowded, it can be a bit difficult to navigate.

So, being ever so practical, what would the good Dutch folks come up with?




Of course it includes an app to tell you what day it is.