Starry Bike Path?

I know I've posed more than a few ridiculous questions, on this blog and away from it.  I seem to have a penchant for them.  So here comes another:  If Vincent Van Gogh were to design a bike lane, what would it look like?

My question isn't, I believe, as frivolous or flippant as it might seem.  I've long felt that we are more sensitive to light and color when we're pedaling. (At least, I feel that I am.)  That might be a reason why cycling and photography go so well together, and why any number of riders I've known (including current riding buddy Bill) are fine photographers.  

I also have another reason for my question:  There is actually a Van Gogh bicycle path in the Dutch town of Nuenen, where Vincent (Yes, I'm on a first-name basis with him! ;-))worked from 1883 until 1885. During that time, he completed The Potato Eaters, one of his early masterpieces.

Interestingly, the path is more evocative of a later and better-known masterpiece of his.  I am talking about Starry Night, which has inspired all sorts of other work--including the only Don McLean song besides "American Pie" most people can name.  

To me, the path is a work of art in its own right.  Although the swirls and colors in it echo Vincent's painting, it has a different effect:  The painting is its own dynamic, while the environment of the path creates its plays of light and color.  

The path, designed by artist Daan Roosegarrd, is paved with colored stones that are charged in daylight and emit twinkling light--mostly in blue and green--at night.  When so lit, the path displays parts of the painting as you ride on, or look at, it.

From what I've read and heard, the Van Gogh path has turned Nuenen, near Eindhoven, into an atrraction, if not a destination, for tourists.  While it contains several homages to its most famous resident, most Van Gogh pilgrimages include Arles, the Provencal town where he painted Starry Night, and the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam.  Only those who are really in the know about the artist make a detour to Nuenen, whose other distinction is that it was the site of a battle in the significant, but unsuccessful (for the Allies) Operation Market Garden in World War II.

Some folks thousands of kilometers away believe that they can help to continue the revitalization of their city by capturing Nuenen's lightning (all right, light) in a bottle.  It's a "rust belt" city in the US that, like a few others, has sought to revitalize itself by using its history and culture to create a vibrant arts scene.  

In other words, Hamilton is trying to do what a much larger city at the other end of Ohio--Cleveland--has been doing.  Other cities in that part of the United States, like Grand Rapids, Michigan and Milwaukee, have had recent success in stemming, at lest in part, economic decline wrought by the relocation or disappearance of manufacturing industries.





In such cities, as well as in neighborhoods like Bushwick, Brooklyn, the emphasis has been on public art, like sculpture and murals, that can make use of industrial sites and structures as a backdrop, or as material for the works themselves.

Something like the Van Gogh bike path would fit such communities, especially one like Hamilton, which has a very popular bike/walking path along the Miami River.  It also just happens to pass the Fitton Center for the Creative Arts and a sculpture garden.  Wade Johnston, the director of Tri-State Trails, thinks it would be a great spot for a similar sort of path--or, at least one where "public art and beautiful landscaping" could "promote a sense of place" and--not insignificant to city leaders--"encourage reinvestment in Hamilton."

As much as I love art, I am enough of a realist to acknowledge that the arts can't replace high-wage factory jobs.  But, as neighborhoods like Bushwick and cities like Cleveland (once the butt of jokes, many of which referred to a river that caught fire) have shown, the arts can provide other opportunities and encourage talented, creative people to live and work in areas other people abandoned.

Preach It!

I think we've all had times when we felt as if we were flying while riding.  Sometimes the wind at your back can make you feel as if you've sprouted wings. Or a particularly beautiful vista or perfect weather (however you define it) can make you feel as if you're in heaven, or at least riding above the clouds.

The best part is:  You don't even have to bring your Bible.  Or Koran.  Or any other "holy book." 

Riding In Her Mortal Dress

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hand and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress

Those lines, from the second stanza of William Butler Yeats' Sailing to Byzantium, will never be found on the door of any plastic surgeon's office.  But for me, they have become an inspiration, if not outright instruction.

They are among the reasons I continue to call this blog "Midlife Cycling" at a time when many would argue that I am no longer in mid-life.  To them, I say that as long as I don't know when my life will end, I am in the middle of it.

Such an outlook provides an answer to another question.  If it doesn't, then perhaps Martha Stewart does.

Truth be told, I never paid a lot of attention to her because, in the days before saving episodes of TV shows for future viewing was possible, let alone convenient, she always aired at times when I couldn't watch them.  Also, I always sensed that I would never be able to replicate some of the things she showed because I didn't have a big enough living space or enough money, or I didn't just happen to have the ingredients on hand.

But now I look to her to solve a riddle.  Actually, it's one that never really exercised my mind before, but someone brought it up in a tweet:

So, this "seafoodpedia" thinks Ms. Stewart will "set an example" by giving up cycling.  Why?  I suspect that "seafoodpedia" is trying to rationalize his or her own laziness or indolence--or is simply upset that Martha is riding faster or better than he or she is--or riding at all.  For all I know, "seafoodpedia" might just be someone who hates bicycles or cyclists.

So, how old does "seafoodpedia" think is "too old to bike safely."  Well, apparently he/she would say 77--Ms. Stewart's current age--or younger.

While I might be practicing a form of denial in calling myself "middle aged", I think it will keep me from believing I'm "too old" to ride a bike--or do many other things.  With every pedal stroke, I can clap my hand and sing, louder, for every tatter in my mortal dress.

So can Martha Stewart--though, I must say, her "tattered dress" looks pretty darned good!

Enrigester--ou Laissez-Faire?

Woonsocket, Rhode Island claims it's "la ville plus francaise aux Etats-Unis": the most French city in the United States. In one sense, that's true:  An estimated 46 percent  of its residents  are of French or French-Canadian heritage. It's believed that proportion is higher in Woonsocket (Don't you just love saying that name?) than in any other US municipality.  Moreover, the city is home to the American-French Genealogical Society.

But of all cities in the States, the one with the most French influence is undoubtedly New Orleans.  You can see it in the food, architecture, street names and the pace of life:  Gallic joie de vivre combined with Southern languor.  And while other US states are divided into counties, Louisiana, where New Orleans is located, consists of parishes:  a remnant of the region's French Catholic colonial past.  For that matter, the city's and state's codes bear more semblance to France's (or Quebec's) Civil Codes than to the Common Law-derived jurisprudence found in the rest of America.

Interestingly, it seems that the former colony and the former coloniser could go in opposite directions, at least in one area of bicycle policy.

Yesterday, "N'awlins" (All right, I'm a New Yorker but I don't say "Noo Yawk".  So this is the last time I'll pronounce New Orleans as a contraction!) announced that bicycle registration is no longer mandatory--except for rental bicycles.  The city will still offer registration; however, it will be voluntary and the fee will rise from $3 to $5 on New Year's Day.

What spurred the change, according to local advocates, is the $1000 in fines levied against musician Kevin Louis when he rode his "raggedy old" bike to buy a pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of morning.  Others have suggested, though, that the process for registering too often proved to be cumbersome, especially for those who couldn't provide a sales receipt or other proof of purchase for their wheels.  Examples include bikes purchased at yard sales or passed down between family members or friends--or, say, a bike someone gave away when he or she was moving.

But I believe there are also other reasons for the repeal.  One is the laissez-faire Southern attitude.  Remember, the city and state are deep in a part of the nation where the Second Amendment (or, at least a particular interpretation of it) is as sacred a document as the Gospels or the book of Leviticus.  People there really don't like governments telling them what to do; for them, having to register anything reeks of "Big Brother."

A more legitimate argument, however, was raised by other people.  Whenever any jurisdiction implements bike registration, a stated purpose is invariably to combat bike theft.  Registration supposedly deters at least some thieves, and makes it more likely that stolen bikes will be returned to their owners.

While there is no way to verify the first claim, one would expect that registration might deter casual thieves or "crimes of opportunity".  On the other hand, while some bikes in New Orleans and other places have been returned as a result of registration, the chances that you will ever see your bike again if it's nicked is depressingly small.

Yet, another jurisdiction--a nation, in fact--is making the arguments about theft deterrence and returning stolen bikes as it proposes a bike registration program.  It's part of a Plan Velo that, if implemented, would take effect in France in 2020.  Each frame would be marked with a number registered in a national database, much as motor vehicles are.

Other parts of the plan include installing secure bicycle parking facilities at SNCF (the French national rail system) stations, creating more widespread networks of bicycle lanes, offering employer-disbursed incentives for employees who ride their bikes to work.  (Similar subsidies are offered for those who use mass transit.)  It also would provide for bicycle classes in elementary schools.

While few doubt that building infrastructure and offering financial incentives could entice some commuters out of their cars and onto bikes, it's legitimate to question whether bicycle registration will actually help, as its proponents claim, to curb bicycle theft.  In fairness, some people, especially in cities, might be more willing to pedal to work if they felt confident they would still have their bikes at the end of the work day.

It's always interesting to see what happens when nations and their former colonies forge very different solutions to a problem.  Could 64 million French people really not be wrong?  Or do 393,292  folks in The Big Easy have the right idea?

What would they do in Woonsocket?

Trying To Clear The Air

According to the World Health Organization, the cities with the world's worst air quality are clustered, with a few exceptions, in three areas:  India/Pakistan, China and the Middle East.

What most of the cities on WHO's list have in common is rapidly-developing economies, mainly in manufacturing and other highly-polluting industries.  However, one of the reasons why so many Chinese and Indian cities make the list is, ironically, the opposite of a reason why Middle Eastern urban areas are found on that same list.

That reason has to do with petroleum.  Countries like Saudi Arabia and Iran have lots of it, and use it.  On the other hand, while India and China are also petrol producers, they have also become importers because their industries and vehicular traffic have grown so much, and because their current oil reserves are more difficult to tap than the ones that have previously been tapped.  Plus, both countries are rich in coal, which is widely used as fuel as well as in making steel, a major export for both countries.

But it seems that even in parts of the oil-rich Middle East, there is some awareness of the perils of petrol dependency.  Some of them are, of course, economic:  What will they do when the oil runs out, or simply becomes too difficult or expensive to extract from the ground--or, for that matter, if demand for it decreases?  Other hazards of fossil-fuel addiction include--you guessed it--health hazards related to poor air quality.

So, perhaps, it is not surprising that the Netherlands Bicycle Partnership, a consortium of public and private organizations working with the University of Amsterdam, is working to encourage cycling in Tehran, the capital of Iran, as well as other cities (which made the WHO list) in the country.

The NBP, formed in 2015, works with local governments and organizations on sustainability issues.  It recently helped to devise a document designed to encourage cycling in the Iranian capital over the next five years.  The city is starting to take the steps necessary to develop the infrastructure and do the other things needed to meet the goals of the document.  This is significant because previous attempts to promote cycling failed, in part, due to the lack of said infrastructure--including bike lanes and ride-sharing programs.

It would be interesting--and gratifying--if an area with an economy so tied to petrol production can develop the sort of bicycle infrastructure--which, one imagines, could encourage bicycle commuting as well as recreational cycling--found in petrol-poor countries like the Netherlands, which has significantly better air quality in its cities.

(Interesting side-note: In Europe, the west generally has better air quality than the east--and the differences are stark.  In fact, there's a clear line between the two, and it roughly follows the old Iron Curtain.)

Holy V, Jubilee!

In October 1964, Tetsuo Maeda filed a patent application in Japan for what would become, in my opinion, one of the two or three most important derailleur innovations in history.

It was the brainchild of his chief designer, Nobui Ozaki.  He was no doubt trying to make a derailleur that was easier to shift and shifted more accurately than the ones available at that time.  Did he realize that it would influence derailleur design for the next half-century?  Did Maeda, the owner of the company that employed Ozaki, know that for two decades, other derailleur manufacturers would wait, with bated breath, for his patent to run out?

Well, both of those scenarios came true.  You see, the patent Maeda filed in his home country--and a month later in the US--would cover a design still used today, in one form or another, on any rear derailleur that has even a pretense of quality.

I am talking about the SunTour Gran-Prix.  Over the next few years, SunTour would refine its design.  For one thing, it would replace its original single-spring design (The same spring that operates the parallelogram also tensions the chain cage.) with separate springs for each function.  And steel parts would be replaced by alloy ones, which in turn would become more sculpted and rounded.

The result was that the 1964 Gran Prix

would evolve into the first "V" derailleur in 1968.

I would put one of those on one of my bikes.  I mean, how can you not love a derailleur with those pivot bolts?

Of course, the V was further refined and became the V Luxe.  One thing I find interesting about the V and V Luxe is that they were lighter than most derailleurs made at the time--or even today.  

The V, according to Michael Sweatman of Disrealigears, weighed 218 grams.  That is only 13 grams (less than half an ounce) more than another influential derailleur that came out exactly 50 years ago

yes, the Campagnolo Nuovo Record--which, of course,was a refinement of the earlier Record and its progenitor, the first Gran Sport parallelogram rear derailleur.

For comparison's sake, the 1968 SunTour V weighs almost exactly the same as a Shimano Ultegra 6400 (introduced in 1988), 6401 (1992) or 6500 (1998)--or the Dura Ace 7402 (made from 1989 to 1996), all of which are in the 210 to 220 gram range. Later DA rear derailleurs (the 7700 series onward) shed 10 to 15 grams--and that with the use of a titanium upper pivot bolts!

The funny thing is that no matter how light a component is, someone wants it even lighter.  So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to find this

I mean, how much weight did those holes take out of that "V" derailleur? 

I guess I shouldn't be too critical, though.  After all, not only was the Campy NR drilled out--or, sometimes, slotted in its parallelogram--so was the lightest rear derailleur of them all:

In case you were wondering:  The Huret Jubilee weighed 145 grams--before anyone touched it with a drill, mill or lathe!

Hot Spots In The Evergreen State

Recently, Bicycling! magazine published its "Best Bicycle City in America" poll.  This year, Seattle got the top honor.

But, as we all know, no matter how good a city is for cycling, crashes are always a possibility, just as they are for motorists.

With that in mind, a local law firm, Colburn Law, sifted through five years of crash data and determined 15 "hot spots" in Washington State.  Not surprisingly, the first seven, and the majority of those on the list, are in Seattle. 

One reason is that crashes occur most commonly at intersections and, of course, there are more of those in a city.  On the other hand, more fatalities occur on open roadways, possibly because motor vehicles go faster on them than on city streets.  

The hottest of the "hot spots":  4th Avenue and Pike Street, Seattle

The Colburn report does raise at least two pertinent questions, both of which relate to the changing cycling scene the Emerald City as well as the Evergreen State.

One is how effective dedicated bike lanes will be in reducing the number of crashes.  I have not been to Seattle but, from what I've heard and read, it lags behind other "bicycle friendly" municipalities in its construction of lanes and other infrastructure, though the pace has increased recently.  And, some of the new lanes are separated, at least by pylons and planters, from the traffic lane.

Another question is whether the city's new dockless bike share programs will increase the number of riders who go without helmets--which, planners expect, would increase the number of injuries and fatalities.  So far, there doesn't seem to be any evidence of such things, as police have actually issued fewer citations to cyclists who weren't wearing helmets (which are required by law) in 2017 than in 2016.

Whatever the answers may be, they probably will have no bearing on whether Seattle "repeats" as "champion" in next year's poll.

Goodbye, Josephine!

The other day, I introduced you to Negrosa, the 1973 Mercian Olympic I acquired in June and on which I just made some "finishing touches."

Well, one bike came into my life, not long after another.  So, I suppose, it was inevitable that one would part.

In this case, Josephine, the 1981 Trek 412 I refurbished, found a new home.  Someone really wanted it and made me a good offer.

I liked Josephine, but I figure that if I want another bike like her, it shouldn't be too hard to find one. Besides, Negrosa is now my L'eroica bike.

Also, I've spent a lot on bikes this year and wanted to recoup some, even if only a little.

Thanks for the memories, Josephine!

To Wear Them Or Ride Them

You've heard of "mustache" handlebars.  Perhaps you ride them.

You probably know--or have known--someone with a "handlebar" mustache.

But, have you ever seen anyone with a "handlebar" mustache riding "mustache" handlebars?

I Christen Thee Negrosa

Finally!  She's together!

No, that's not what someone said about me after I figured it all out.  (As if I ever did!)  I'm talking about...another bike.  I mean, what else could I be talking about on this blog, right?

Specifically, I'm referring to the 1973 Mercian Olympic (I mistakenly identified it earlier as a King of Mercia; Grant at Mercian confirmed that it's an Olympic) I bought in June.  The funny thing is that I didn't have to do much to it, but it took me longer to finish than it took to get Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special, ready after the frame arrived.

In the case of Dee-Lilah,  I had all of the parts, and Eli (of Ruth SF Works) made a couple of bags for me and once Hal put it all together, it was ready to go.  I haven't found any need to adjust or change anything yet.

On the other hand, for the Olympic, I had to look for a couple of things, and make a couple of other choices. 

Right from the beginning, I replaced the tires, which were cheap and mismatched, with a pair of Continental Grand Prix 4 Seasons.  I also swapped out the SunTour freewheel for another SunTour--the ProCompe  that came with the bike (and is now on another) for a New Winner--and the unknown-brand chain for a Sedisport that'd been in its package for 30+ years. 

Old Cinelli logo.

After a couple of rides, I knew I wanted to change the stem from the 9 mm extension that came with it to a 10.  The stem and bars that came with the bike were Cinellis, in the old 26.4mm clamp diameter.  I like the bars, so I didn't want to buy new ones.  That meant looking for a stem in the proper diameter.  I also wanted to find one that had the old-style oval logo, like the one that came with the bike, but had no luck there.  Oh, well.  Cinelli has never produced an ugly logo, so I don't mind having the newer one.  Besides, the logo switch seems to have been made not long after the frame was built.

Now, stems before the 1990s didn't have "faceplate" clamps.  So, if you want to switch stems, you have to unwrap the bar tape.  I didn't mind, as the tape that came with the bike was a mess:  It was faded and felt as if it had been epoxied onto the bars.  And the rubber hoods were disintegrating on the brake levers.

Luckily for me, I managed to find a pair of original-style Campagnolo gum hoods for not much more than they cost 40 years ago.  Best of all, they were fresh and supple.  As for the tape, I decided to go with something basic but classy:  black Tressostar cloth tape.  I spiced it up a bit, though, with red bar plugs.

To match those plugs--and the red parts of the frame--I found some vintage red Christophe straps.  And the one truly unsightly part of the bike as I got it--apart from the brake hoods and tape--were the toe clips, which were rusted and pitted even though nothing else on the bike was.  They were from "Cycle Pro", which offered some decent stuff back in the day.  But, since we're talking about a vintage Mercian with Campagnolo parts, I thought only Christophe clips would do.  And they're what I put on those Campy pedals.

Now, of course, we all know that we really make our bikes our own with accessories.  I could have sworn I had a Silca frame pump somewhere--but I couldn't find it for the life of me.  Oh, well.  Hal had one, but it looked like hell.  He made a suggestion:  a Zefal HP or HPX.  I just happened to have one in the latter, in just the right size.  And, while it's probably from the 80s or even later, it looks good, if not period-perfect, on the frame.

And, yes, that's a real, live Specialites TA cage on the handlebars.  Like the brake hoods, it was in pristine condition before I mounted it.  I found, though, that I needed to use longer screws than the ones that came with the clamp.  I have a feeling they were designed for old French handlebars, which are narrower at the "sleeve" area than my Cinellis.

Yes, the bike came with that saddle!

The bag is from Acorn.  I have another, larger, black bag that Eli made.  

Even with those minor changes, I still can't believe my luck in finding that bike--with a Brooks Professional saddle in perfect condition, no less.  And so soon after getting Dee-Lilah:  It was like getting two birthday presents!

After accessorizing, there's one more thing you (or I, anyway) have to do in order to make your (my) bike your (my) own: name it.  So, after putting that bottle cage on the handlebars, I christened her Negrosa. 

Now I really have decisions to make whenever I go out for a ride:  Dee-Lilah, Negrosa, Tosca (my Mercian fixed-gear), Arielle (my Mercian Audax) or Vera (my Mercian mixte).