Category: Events

Last week I helped set up the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia‘s booth at the Endurance Sports Expo. I’ll never be a ride leader for the club (hopelessly directionally impaired), so events like this are a good opportunity to lend a hand in appreciation for the benefits the club so generously shares with members like me.

The Greater Philadelphia Expo Center is in Oaks, Pennsylvania.  It’s a conglomeration of pole buildings cobbled onto each other, but why not?  It does the trick; what you really want here is a lot of flexible space.

I took this picture on set-up day.  Once the show opened, things weren’t so quiet. There was a Home and Garden show next door, and a bunch of other stuff, too.  Parking was ample, thanks to an impressive amount of asphalt acreage, but that also means that you probably wouldn’t want to count on being able to leave your car near the door once the show opens.  (I’m not sure how biking would work out; I came from roughly an hour away, and the roads I took weren’t even marginally bike-friendly. Highways just aren’t.)

The endless pool was an intriguing start to the show; a couple of attendees volunteered to give it a try. I have an acquaintance who had one built-in, and who loves it, but it looks a lot like running in place to me — but with water.  I need wheels — but Tri athletes undoubtedly feel differently.

BCP’s booth was signing up new members and picking up renewals.  The fellow in the blue shirt is the club president, chatting with a visitor.

“Endurance sport” covers a lot of territory, of course.  But there were bikes

and jerseys, like these, some with brewery and civic themes

as well as some deals on end-of-season apparel, too.

There was quite a lot of running gear, an several large booths offering shoes for sale, too, along with booths from several community organizations and charities who sponsor runs or rides.  Most of those were ghettoized along a distant side wall, though.

The bright bold colors of the Philadelphia Triathlon Club booth were a real attention-getter . . . or do I think so just because I have an affinity for those colors? (Basil would have liked this booth best, I’m certain.)

One booth put forth a bold fashion statement:  Their hunky mannequin sported jersey and shorts in pink, trimmed in black, white, green and blue.  (Bicycle Revolutions, if I’ve identified them correctly, and I probably have since the tag line on their website is “Bicycles Art Culture”.) Speaking for myself, it’s good to see pink co-opted and moved out of its usual stereotypical place in the popular imagination.

This Calfee with a Lefty fork was the most unusual bike I noticed. The frame is bamboo — an interesting choice.  Is there some way to keep a bamboo bike safe from thieves? I’m skeptical.

This Surly flask gets the award for the most appealing accessory.  It’s quite vintage, I suspect.

Just the thing for a cold winter’s ride.  Dosed out by the drop, of course; BUI isn’t a habit anyone needs to develop.

I generally prefer bike shows to more general ones like this one, but there’s always something to see, and something to learn, at these events.

The biggest surprise for me at this one was the sheer volume of vendors hawking nutritional supplements, bars, fluids, and the like (including possibly dubious — or at least expensive — methods of trying to determine exactly what your personal body chemistry does with all that, well, chemistry).  They reminded me of old-time patent medicine sellers.

New York’s Metropolitan Transit Authority maintains a museum shop and small gallery in Grand Central Station.  This year, I stopped in and checked out the annual train show, which continues through January 16, 2013. What can I say?  It was awesome! 

Geographically speaking, the scene covered everything from Swiss-style chalets on a mountain, to skyscrapers under a twinkling sky

to underground trains and a maintenance yard.

There were city trains, buses, and cars

trucks and taxis (but no traffic — small worlds get to be perfect!)

an old-style locomotive with a classic “cow-catcher”

more modern New York Central cars

and a marvelous hobby shop, with a revolving train display of its own

. . . and more, so much more!  There was something intriguing to discover everywhere anyone looked.

There was no obvious adherence to a particular era in train history (other than general nostalgia, that is).  The charming result was that all these transport modes moved through various land- and city-scapes and melded into a world all their own, undefined by a specific decade or chronological requirement.  The result was a magical coherence that somehow managed to be traditional, peculiarly futuristic, and quaint, all at once.

But I saw no bicycles.  What kind of world has no bicycles?

The second group ride I took with the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia was very different from the first.  I had a great time, but it was a very different ride than what I expected, and proved the wisdom of my earlier advisors, who explained that the precise nature of a “D” ride depends on the leader more than the category. In fairness, though, this ride was rated at D, D+, C-; as it turns out, this particular version was probably a bit above my correct level, at this point. (Though, obviously, I survived!)

This ride went from the Azalea Garden to the Farmer’s Market and Trader Joe’s, in Ardmore.  The leader was cheery and friendly, and so were the other cyclists.  We took a break at the Farmer’s Market, which was bustling inside, but pretty generic outside –probably because it’s December, and fairly cold out.  Here’s Basil, with a bunch of other bicycles, outside:

Some of us purchased lunches and ate them in a little area next to the sushi counter, somewhat to the sushi chef’s dismay, as he would have preferred the seats be left empty for his customers (though there were none at that time).  He was nice about it, but it obviously bothered him.  He offers a good range of choices, including several seaweed salads.

I learned some interesting things.  First, although I was capable of going up short hills more rapidly than the other riders, their slow initial climbs caused me to drop back in order to avoid overtaking.  I attribute this to gearing range differences.  On the longest, steepest, inclines, I fell far behind.  That was due, in part, to the leader having increased the speed on the return trip considerably, particularly the incline speeds.  We were well out of D speed range on the return — that didn’t matter on the flats or downhills, but it did matter, for me, on the inclines.

The leader told us that there was only one hill, but, as another rider observed, that was not the case.  In total, we climbed over 1,000 feet, according to my Garmin, and, no, it wasn’t all in one go!

It was a bit disconcerting that at one point I was significantly behind the others for a lengthy period of time, and the leader never once looked back.  On virtually all of the return trip, we were on our own — to the extent that she went through a yellow signal on a major road, leaving us behind at the red.  (Though she waited until the signal changed and the rest of us made it through before proceeding.)  I was able to catch up without missing any turns, but the tension caused by the uncertainty didn’t enhance the ride any.  As a D rider, and one unfamiliar with Philadelphia geography, I lack sufficient experience to find my way back, even with a cue sheet (not much experience there, either).

At the start of both rides, each leader said “We will obey all traffic laws”.  In each case, that did not prove to be the case — not even close — though that wasn’t a particularly egregious issue on my first ride.  It was on this one.  This raises some significant philosophical issues, which I intend to address in a later post.

It was a good day, and a good ride, in spite of some worrisome moments.

The Philadelphia Tweed Ride 2012 started at the Water Works, and wended its way  to Penn Treaty Park under the bluest and most temperate skies imaginable.  November 17?  The best of autumn, as it turned out.

The park is mostly field, with plenty of room to gather and frolic.

Small groups gathered as people meandered about:

Vintage games were played, including baseball, by lads in these excellent uniforms:

That’s a button-on yoke in front.  Here’s the back:

Note the cap. Modern sports uniforms just don’t cut it.

 

The landscape was littered with cycles.  And wool.  The crowd was easy-going, relaxed, and cordial.

Lots of bikes to oogle, of course, and plenty of great-looking garb, too.

There were a few pair of actual knickers about  (no snickering, you UK people — I’m talking plus fours, here, not what’s under your trews), but many of the lads tucked their trousers into socks, creating instant knickers.  Add argyle socks, and . . . well, the effect is just about perfect.

I loved this lass’s outfit — she’s ready for adventure, and would have been as well-dressed in the 1930s or 40s, as she was today.

These dapper lads were part of the organizing crew:

I think I’ve seen this spiffy-dressed lad in the New Yorker, haven’t you?

But honestly, for dapper, can you beat this fellow?  Note that he has pipe in hand, luggage in tow, and a Philadelphia map within reach:

He’s the navigator on this bicycle:

Which is as well (and cleverly) equipped as a cycle can get. Note the radio, which was playing music from an era when tweed ruled.

The card handed about by the pilot of this magnificent craft explains each component; it was brilliant of him to have printed up the cards. As a result, I can tell you that this is a TREK Lime, automatic 3-speed with custom wood fenders.  The radio is a 1950s Tom Thumb with an amplifier and a mini-disk player; the panniers are converted 1960s Swiss ammo carriers.  Quite a neat accumulation of wonderful things, no?

The navigator was not the only one of his species to ride along.  Meet Ringo:

Ringo co-pilots this marvelous cargo bike:

This gent carried all the necessaries on his person:  a flask and pipe.  He’s obviously a resourceful fellow; he even made his own vest!

I like his idea of a rear pannier, too.

The Bicycle Chef’s  traditional picnic basket was decked with autumn leaves, along with the handlebars on her nifty Schwinn.

She had brought a picnic-for-two, intending to share — a terrific idea!

A lovely picnic it was, too.

I’d brought my favorite egg salad sandwich (extra onions on request!) from the  Old Nelson Food Company at the top of the SEPTA ramp at 30th street station, but I was happy to be introduced to something I didn’t know existed: Shipyard Smashed Pumpkin Ale.  I’d have never tired it, and that would have been sad . . . thanks, Bicycle Chef, for sharing, and inspiring me to picnic properly next year!

Eventually, it was time to go.  These intrepid cyclists got in some all-terrain riding, as everyone headed off to Rembrandt’s for further imbibing and refection.

Thanks, Tweed volunteers for pulling it all together — what a great excuse to come to Philadelphia and cycle!

 

The Philadelphia Tweed Ride 2012 assembled at the Water Works, just below the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

You can see one wing of the museum looming above the Water Works here:

Here’s a view of the musuem from the Water Works plaza, from whence we departed on the Ride.

It was a picture post-card perfect day.

We were an awesome sight as we rolled out from the Water Works.  I thought that at the time, but knew it for sure when I saw thoroughbred21’s video.  Take a look — you’ll be glad you did!

That’s a muzzy still of the Bicycle Chef, her Coffee Schwinn, and me, on Basil (and a slew of other tweed-clad cyclists.  You can’t tell from the image, but I’m already beaming. And why not?

It looked as if  Tweed Ride 2012 might not happen:  A call went out in the summer for volunteers to run it, nothing was ever posted on what had been, in previous years, the Tweed Ride web page.

The Ride finally surfaced on Facebook, but the location and time weren’t posted until barely a week before the event.  Nonetheless, a large group of lads, lassies, and cycles turned up for this leisurely and thoroughly enjoyable event.

Seeing so much wool in one place just makes the heart sing.

Lots of chatting before the ride:

However, there was more to enjoy than sartorial splendor. Arriving early for registration meant having time to scope out the wheels. Tandems, for example, like this Sting Ray version:

There was an amusing triple:

Although I didn’t see it in action, someone brought a recumbent with a wind fairing:

I spotted three folders, including Basil:

This Tern D8:

And this Moulton:

The Bicycle Chef and I struck a conversation about her amazingly suitable, practically tweed, helmet (a rare Giro)

and ended enjoying a most pleasurable ride together.

Accessory spotting was just as much fun as the other visual treats.  I loved this lassies’ outfit, and was very amused to see that her tweed bag was a Keen:

Like her outfit, the bag combines a nod to vintage, while remaining completely contemporary.  Neat trick!