Which Do You Lock First?

During my recent trip to Cambodia and Laos, I saw some heartbreaking poverty.  Still, there seemed to be little or no theft:  People left all sorts of items, including bicycles, out in the open, unsecured.  

And, as in other parts of the world, people leave their shoes at the door before entering their homes or, sometimes, even places of work or business.  That makes sense when so many streets, even in the middle of a city like Siem Reap, are wholly or partially dirt--which, of course, becomes mud when it rains--and dogs, cats and sometimes other animals roam freely on them.

Still, I had to wonder whether anyone had ever lost his or her shoes after leaving them by the door. (That didn't stop me, though, from following the local custom.)  Or a bicycle, for that matter.

This photo wasn't taken in any place I visited, as far as I know.  Having seen it, though, I have to wonder:  Is there a place where you're more likely to have your shoes than your bike stolen?

Officer, I Was Just Helping A Friend Clean Up!

I once moved my possessions from one apartment to another--on my bicycle.

Granted, I didn't have much at the time.  Still, I take pride in having changed residences without the aid of trucks, vans or moving companies.  For me, the experience affirms what someone--an old riding buddy, if I recall correctly--once told me:  You can carry anything on a bicycle.  It's just a matter of loading and packing it.

A fellow in Oxford, Ohio apparently followed that advice.  He transported a mini-refrigerator and full-length mirror aboard a pink Mongoose bicycle.  

Of course, Stephen Moster didn't have those items on his back or shoulders, or strapped to a Blackburn rear carrier, as he pedaled along. For that matter, he wasn't hauling a modern bike trailer or even a vintage Cannondale bugger.  Instead, he was pushing a shopping cart loaded with the refrigerator and mirror.

I would have respect and even admiration for him:  After all, it takes a certain amount of ingenuity to conceive of such a system, and a certain level of skill to ride while pushing a cart.  And, yes, he showed that something could be done without a motor vehicle when most people would have assumed that one was necessary.

I would have respect for him...if the refrigerator and mirror were his, or he were transporting them for a friend--or even if someone was paying him to move them.   Or if his story--that two men invited him to "take whatever I want" from a house they were cleaning up--were true.

You know where this is going:  He burgled that house.  In fact, the two men were cleaning up from a previous burglary and talking with an insurance representative when they were startled by sounds.  They went to a neighbor's porch, where they watched Moster take the refrigerator and mirror.  Realizing he couldn't carry them on his bike, he left and then returned with a Kroger's grocery cart.


(This is how he should have done it!)

Hmm...The refrigerator and mirror were burgled and the cart was "appropriated".  It makes me wonder how he acquired the bicycle.

I still must say that I sort of admire his ingenuity.  But I would offer him this bit of advice: If you're going to abscond with other people's property, don't do it on a pink bike!

Oh, Deer--In The Bronx!

Yesterday, I took another ride to Connecticut.  The day could hardly have been better:  neither the warmth nor sunlight were oppressive, and only a few high, wispy clouds floated across the sky.  I pedaled into a fairly brisk wind most of the way up--which meant, of course, it blew me back to Astoria.

And nearly into the path of a deer.  I was gliding through a turn on the Pelham Bay Park path, just before it crosses an entrance to the New England Thruway.  Trees cover one side of the path and line the other; just beyond that line is a marsh, with the hulking structures of Co-op City in sight.

I missed that deer by about five meters or so.  But I think I was more surprised than startled:  After all, I was in The Bronx.  Yes, you read that right.  It's one thing to see Bambi's wild cousin dart in front of you when you're barreling down a road in rural Pennsylvania, or a mountain goat bolt across the road you're thumping along with a flat tire at 90 KPH in the Alps.  You can talk about such things and, whatever judgments people are making, they believe you.

But a deer in the Bronx?  I'm still having trouble believing it--even though I saw it.  If only I could have taken a photo!

What If?: SunTour "Click Shift" And Freehubs?

Captain Ahab had Moby Dick.  Others have spent years, decades, even lifetimes hunting down one obsession or another.

Now, the "target" I'm about to discuss didn't do anything to harm me.  In fact, other products made by the company that manufactured my Loch Ness monster, or whatever you want to call it, have actually brought me pleasure, at least while cycling.

The company in question is SunTour.  For a time, I didn't want to use derailleurs or freewheels made by any other company.  And I once dreamed of building a track bike from Superbe Pro components, which I thought were even better (or at least more beautiful) than even Campagnolo's fixed-gear offerings.

The object of my obsession are really objects, plural.  They are parts of a system SunTour introduced in 1969 and, apparently, manufactured only during that year.  I have seen references to them in a number of sources, but have never seen the parts in person.  In fact, I had never seen images of them--until yesterday.

Well, I came across one component, anyway, on--where else!--eBay:

These "click shift" levers were part of an indexed shifting system SunTour made that year.  From the accounts I've read, it worked well, though it didn't sell well and no manufacturer outfitted a new bike with it as original equipment.  Although SunTour had patented its slant-pantogram derailleur five years earlier, it did not begin to export its wares until the year before the "click shift" system came out.

Interestingly, SunTour also introduced an hub with an integrated freewheel mechanism--much like today's cassette freehubs--in that same year.  It, too, worked well and,like other SunTour products, was well-made.  Like the click-shift system, it seems not to have been produced after 1969.

The simple explanation for the "freehub"s or "click shift"s lack of commercial success is that the market wasn't ready to depart from traditional screw-on freewheels or friction shifters.  But another reason why those items didn't make much headway is that they predated the '70's North American Bike Boom by a couple of years.  As Frank Berto has pointed out in "Sunset for SunTour," Shimano entered the American market in the late 1960s when low-priced American bikes like  AMF, Huffy and Murray (which were sold mainly in department stores) were outfitted with Lark and Eagle derailleurs.   On the other hand, Sun Tour derailleurs had to wait a few more years,  until Japanese bicycle manufacturers like Fuji, Bridgestone and Miyata--adorned with SunTour components--developed an export market in the US and, later, in other countries.  By the time those bikes, and lightweight bicycles in general, caught on with American adults, "Click shift" and the intergrated hub were several years out of production.

Ironically, Shimano's appropriation of those innovations--and SunTour's slant parallelogram design (for which the patent expired in 1984)-- would lead to SunTour's demise a decade later.  SunTour, in desperation, tried to develop competing systems.  But the indexed systems SunTour introduced in 1986 did not work as well as Shimano's and, worse, companies like Schwinn used their old stocks of freewheels, chains and cables, which didn't work very well with SunTour's indexed systems.

One can only wonder how things might be different had all of those Fujis, Miyatas, Nishikis, Panasonics, Centurions and other Japanese bikes  had been equipped with SunTour's "Click Shift" and integrated hubs.  Or, for that matter,what about those Schwinns, Raleighs, Motobecanes and other bikes that, a few years later, would be sold in the US with SunTour derailleurs and freewheels as original equipment.  What if they had "click shift" and integrated hubs?  Would those parts have become the de facto standards?   Would SunTour have come to dominate the components market the way Shimano has for the past three decades?  

(At the time Shimano introduced its SIS and freehub systems, the company was an afterthought in all but the lower price ranges, and their stuff was rarely, if ever, bought as replacement equipment, let alone after-market upgrades.)

Finally, I have to wonder what "retro" and "L'eroica" would mean today. After all, they are both defined, at least in part, by non-indexed shifting systems and screw-on freewheels.  Would the concepts of "retro" and "L'eroica" even exist?

Well, I know one thing:  I wouldn't have this obsession over parts SunTour made for only one year, in 1969.

Not The Way Across!

I have pedaled through lanes of traffic with motorized vehicles practically against my shoulders.  I have also ridden through hairpin turns with nothing where a gust at my side, a rock against my tire could have sent me tumbling a few hundred meters down.

Still, there are some places I would never, ever ride.  Among them are the vehicle lanes of most bridges, especially if they are long, high bridges--like the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge:



I recall reading, some time ago, that more people have committed suicide on the nearby Golden Gate Bridge than anyplace else in the world.  (It seems that Nanjing Yangtze River Bridge in China has "overtaken" the Golden Gate in that category.)  One can only wonder if the woman in the video was trying to end her life on the Bay's "other" bridge.