Categories
My Brompton

The First Thousand Miles On My Brompton Bicycle

Basil and I have now ridden a thousand miles/1,609 km together since he arrived last October.  Here he is, in Williamstown, Massachusetts, within a mile or ten of this rather thrilling moment in our mutual history:

Basil’s wheels have been on trails (dirt, gravel, and asphalt), on country roads, suburban streets, on highways in-state and out, on gritty Philadelphia streets, and all around Manhattan, including all five boroughs and across five New York bridges, and they’ve ridden through small towns in a host of Pennsylvania counties.

Basil has taken me far and near, and, in-between, brought the groceries home, attended farmer’s markets, run errands at the hardware store and hauled home basketfuls of all sorts of goods required in our home office and in my sewing room.

During his first thousand miles with me, Basil has traveled by train (both regional and Amtrak), in subways, in buses, on a ferry, in a tram over the East River, and in the trunk of my sub-compact car. (Also in the front seat of the car, until I worried about the effect of the air bag on him in case of a crash.)

We’ve ridden solo, and with the wonderful people we’ve met through the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia, as well as on a Tweed Ride, and with Mr. Diarist.  We’ve done several small cycling events, and one of the largest in the USA.

Our shortest ride was 2.91 miles/ 4.7 km; our longest was not quite 62 miles/99.7 km.  Thirty-four of a total of 74 trips were 10 miles/16 km or fewer (meaning that they were primarily errand runs); 40 trips were longer than 10 miles/16 km.  Twenty-one trips were 15 miles/24 km or more and 14 trips were over 30 miles/48 km each.

When I stepped out of NYCeWheels that first time next to Basil I wondered how I could ever be worthy of the marvelous steed that is a Brompton.  How thing have changed:  It’s been an exciting journey from the first moment to the excellent serendipity that marks our current excursions.  I may still not be worthy, but life without Basil?  I can’t imagine it!

Categories
Miscellaneous

Street-Vending, Brompton-Style

While on my way to deliver Basil to NYCeWheels for his repair and tune-up, I saw Jack peddling to this spot near Lexington and 86th.  That canopy is stretched above a cart Jack tows, by bicycle, to his designated location.  It was both thrilling and amusing to see that NYCeWheels has a bicycle cart as part of their marketing strategy!

Once there, Jack unloads bicycles (Bromptons!), and chats up passers-by — and the occasional wacky existing customer, too.  I’m afraid I stopped and asked him about NYCeWheel’s “no appointments” approach to maintenance.  He reassured me that the program seemed to work, as, soon enough, I discovered for myself.  Jack’s a patient. low-key kind of guy; he tolerates eccentric Brompton riders with good-natured grace.

Jack has a special place in Basil’s history because he was the guide on the Brompton tour that I took last summer — that was the marvelous ride that convinced me that a Brompton was the bicycle for me.  (I ordered Basil as soon as the tour was over!)

Categories
My Brompton

A Matter of Definition

Guy in a business suit tosses briefcase — looks like freedom, no?

Heh, heh, but so does burdened little Basil!

 

Categories
Gear

A Poor Apparel Purchase

When I started cycling not long ago, I was riding a six-speed, bright red, tricycle with wide rear wheels and a large basket.  (Balance problems, since overcome.)  I generally wore high visibility clothing, but I didn’t think about being seen quite as much as I do now.  Everybody, it appears, loves a red tricycle, and we were a spectacle. Rather than run me off the road, people tended to grin and wave when they saw me.

Riding a bicycle is a different matter entirely.  I bought this Cannondale jacket during my trike year.  It’s very clever; the sleeves and the yoke joining them to the jacket body are held to the vest with magnets, so it’s super easy to toss the sleeves on or off without any effort.  That’s a fantastic feature.

But most of the back of the jacket is white. When the sleeves are removed, the mesh under the yoke isn’t high vis, it’s white.  White that just seems to disappear when view from any distance at all.  There is minimal “high vis” to this high vis jacket, especially when the sleeves are removed.  That means its use, in my world, is pretty much limited to trails. Also:  White? Seriously?  For sports clothes? This isn’t tennis, fellas!

This jacket is also too short —  not only in front, but the drop tail in back is hardly more than a faint gesture toward the idea that  one might prefer one’s rear to be covered.  If it’s short  on me, on a taller woman, this jacket must hit the midriff area.  Worse, after very limited use, the zipper coils have begun to separate from the metal tab at the end, making it difficult to join the two sides of the jacket and zip them up.

I’m sorry I own it now; it’s slated to be replaced in the next month or two. With more cycling experience, I’ve got a better idea of what I need and want in terms of gear, and a different set of parameters to consider.

Mr. Diarist owns the men’s version.  The accents on his are black; a notable improvement.  There’s a lot more screaming yellow on his jacket/vest, and his is appropriately long.  His was a good buy; mine was not.

Can I mention how annoyed I am that there seems to be way too much women’s cycling gear that is a pale imitation of more functional, better-designed, men’s gear?  I’d wear that stuff, but I drown even in the smaller men’s sizes, and, needless to say, the men’s gear isn’t exactly form-fitting on most women’s bodies.

Categories
Bike-Spotting

A Vintage Peugeot Racer

Spotted in Chinatown, in New York City, a lean and beautiful vintage Peugeot:

With what look like two seriously under-inflated (but not quite flat) tires.

It’s got shifters on the frame, and that’s a hook for the (missing) tire pump.

I love seeing a vintage bike’s history on its frame. This is probably the original dealer’s label from the Beverly Hills Bicycle Shop (“We Service What We Sell”).  I think the upper part of the label says “National Bicycle Dealers Association”, and it definitely says “Member” beneath.

At one time, California required licenses for all bikes. This Peugeot was registered in the city of Los Angeles, and the license expired in December of 1975, which wasn’t long before cities began giving up on the whole bike licensing program.

I can’t tell what model this one is, but I’m pretty sure it’s a 10-speed — there were a lot of those around at the time.  Peugeot was known in the USA mostly for bikes like these, but according to this Wikipedia article, they also made a folder that looks a lot like my little Italian one, though I’ve never seen one in person.

Categories
Bike-Spotting

El Puerto Ricano

Spotted on the Upper East Side:  This is a small bicycle.  As a reference point, it’s parked in front of a smallish pick-up truck.

I had to look twice; I thought it must be a really fancy child’s bike.  I think not, though. This is one seriously customized ride. Look at that front wheel:

Note the wonderful twist on the fender struts.

Then there’s the killer front fork suspension:

But there’s more!  That’s one heavy-duty rear rack, and those pegs — this baby is outfitted for some serious stunt riding.

That’s one serious shifter.  It wouldn’t look out of place in a vintage race car — or the cockpit of a plane.

I think there is something electrical going on, too (or maybe it’s been removed?) This component says “charger” on the backside. I couldn’t figure out where said electrical bits were.

Nor could I find any manufacturer information on the frame, but here’s what the head badge looks like:

I’m thinking that little island has some really interesting two-wheeling stuff going on . . .

Categories
My Brompton

Taking Flight

Personally, I think the dragonfly looks more like a friendly cohort than menacing.

They’ve both got great lines, don’t they?

Categories
My Brompton Tips

Basil Gets a Repair and Tune-Up

Somehow, I managed to catch the brace of Basil’s front fender on the edge of his chainguard.  It was easy enough to pop the chainguard back into place, but then I did it again . . . and again.  High learning curve, it seems.  (Peter, NYCeWheels marketing guy and star of their videos, told me that this is a newbie’s error, and that most people learn quickly to avoid making it.  Gulp.)

After popping the guard back into place for the third time, I realized that the button holding it in place was never going to be the same again.  I was going to New York, so I emailed NYCeWheels to see if they could do the repair for Basil when I showed up.

NYCeWheels doesn’t take appointments, and I was hoping not only to get the repair done, but also to have Basil’s nearly-thousand-mile tune-up accomplished, too.  The new employee who took him in was dubious; NYCeWheels is always hopping.  He checked with Izzy, the mechanic, though, and they said they’d do their best.

When NYCeWheels let us know that Basil was ready after I’d barely made it from the UES down to mid-town, I figured that they’d only had time to do the repair.  But I was wrong; they’d done everything, and that meant that I got a good ride in before returning to my home state with Basil!

I shouldn’t have worried; I’m sure that there are glitches, and that sometimes routine repairs or maintenance can’t be done as quickly as customers like, but I’ve found NYCeWheels to be very accommodating, and helpful in any way they can be.  That matters a lot, and even more for a customer like me, who comes from out-of-state.  Thanks, guys!

Oh, I did eventually learn to check the placement of the fender guard wire when folding my Brompton:  I make sure the chainguard button is well out of the way, so that if I unfold without checking, nothing is harmed. Paying attention: amazing how often that pays off!

Categories
Miscellaneous

A Very Tiny Building

Encountered on a recent ride in an unfamiliar area:  It’s “The Hexagonal Schoolhouse”, dating, according the the sign out front, to 1837.

The building is lovely and light, but it’s hard to imagine more than four students and a teacher inside, at the most.  Apparently, though, the builder,a Quaker father named Richard Pim, built it for his own nine children.

Are the shutters original?  Maybe not, but the mechanisms might be. (I don’t know enough about early shutter hardware to be certain, one way or the other.)  The windows are modern, though, I’m sure. I don’t think double-hung panes existed in 1837.

According to this article, there was once a smoke-house above, and a spring-house below — but that was on the original site, a short distance from where it stands today.  When Pim’s property was eventually sold to a devloper, the schoolhouse was saved and moved to its present location.

Note: Basil and I will be traveling for about a week, beginning about now. Internet access will not be assured, so response to comments and emails may be spotty or absent until our return.

Categories
Books Gear Tips

Feed Zone Portables

While feeding our horde of special needs cats one evening — a laborious process — Mr. Diarist read about this book in one of the cycling magazines I’d left lying around.  The central conceit is that it’s easy to make, and consume, energy foods produced in your own kitchen, instead of the often artifically-enhanced stuff sold to athletes.

(As a side note, Feed Zone Portables is a beautifully produced book, with a lovely cloth-bound spine. It’s a pleasure to hold and read!)

We both occasionally partake of commercial bars when on the run, and I always have a couple in Basil’s saddle bag, but we like the idea of eating real food instead.  I got a hold of a copy of the book, and, one day when I was out running errands, Mr. Diarist whipped up three of Thomas’s and Lim’s recipes.

These are potato-leek fritattas, made with eggs, too.  The flavor is stupendous right from the oven; they are tasty, but not spectacular, when eaten cold.  At 40 kcal apiece, and with some structural integrity, they can be fairly easily scarfed all along a ride, providing a bit of protein and a few carbs along the way.

The chocolate-almond rice cakes have a delicious, unusual flavor, but, at least in this iteration, were a bit sticky to handle easily.  Coconut adds flavor and fiber, but sticks in my teeth, so this isn’t the best choice for me while far from dental floss.  Mr. Diarist thought he’d made them too moist with a bit too much honey; using less next time might make these small bars less gooey.

The almond-date rice cakes sounded dull to me, but I was wrong!  These are tasty and flavorful, and a bit less messy to handle than the chocolate treats above.  I found them quite filling, too.

The authors suggest wrapping the snacks in parchment-lined tin-foil, which makes for cute, festive, packets, but they are also quite bulky, and disinclined to stay closed without tape (which we didn’t have on hand immediately).  I’m not sure why the parchment lining is considered a good idea; I’d prefer simple, recyclable, aluminium foil.  I’m assuming that we’d never eat enough of these to be affected by the food coming in direct contact with the aluminium. (You can see, when reviewing the cover photo, that I don’t wrap nearly as neatly as the authors do.)

The snacks are meant to be stored in the fridge; we packed ours into an air-tight container first.  Next time, I’ll be wrapping these in waxed paper, and checking out how that works. I think it will be easier to manage, both in the wrapping and in the using. Ultimately, that’s probably kinder to the environment, too.

Nutrition data is included for all the recipes (a huge plus!).  Mr. Diarist wrote the names of these particular snacks, and their calorie counts, on the card slipped in front.  We’re both wary of falling into the “I exercised so much, now I can eat a whole pie” trap, so we keep at least a casual eye on how much we consume during, and post, exercise.

I take seriously the injunction to never try new fuel on a long ride, so, naturally, I sampled each of these nutrition-packed goodies at home first.  As promised (one author is a chef), they are quite tasty.  We’ll see how difficult it is to use them on actual rides; the gooey factor is one to consider, and also how well the nutrition stacks up to their commercial cousins.

I do miss my perfect cycling food, though: Human kibble.  Clif’s Shot Roks were little, 30-calorie bites that didn’t melt, and could be popped into one’s gullet every five miles without stopping the bike.  They’re gone now, though, replaced by messy gel cubes, most of which also have caffeine added, rendering them useless for the likes of me.  Mr. Diarist and I will continue to explore Feed Zone Portables; human kibble is quite practical, but something similar made from actual food would be even better . . . we’ll see what develops.