Basil received congratulations from a reader (and cyclist) last week, who discovered this while at The Cedars House Cafe in Philadelphia’s Fairmont Park:
Saul noted that “Basil had a soup named after him, much classier than a sandwich”. Indeed, and Basil’s feeling quite honored!
When I acquired a wire basket for my Brompton, I attached it to a modified S frame with cable ties. The cable ties were really easy to use, and the attachment very stable. However, I’m about to make another bag for Basil because I’m crazy and the closet-full I have already aren’t enough I’d like to have a super-small one. Now I want to be able to slip that mini-S-frame on and off the basket without having to find a pair of scissors.
The new attachment system uses nylon webbing and buckles, and some wide hook-and-loop fastening. I hand-sewed the webbing, with buckles attached, to the top and bottom of the basket, fitting them carefully over the S frame/basket combination.
The buckles had to wrap so that they were easy to open and close, and the strap/buckle combination had to hug the S frame snugly.
The sides of my modified S frame are not riveted in place — that’s so I can swap them out for differently-sized tubing if I choose to. This means, though, that they should be stabilized, so that the sides won’t vibrate out of the frame while I’m riding. To prevent that, I sewed wide hook-and-loop strips across the middle of the back of the basket. (Those unsecured straps to the right and left of the basket are the hook portion of the strips.)
Here’s how the back of the basket looks with the frame completely attached. (The hook-and-loop strips flop a little bit over the vertical center frame bars; that just makes them easier to grab when removing the basket.)
Here is the back of the basket with the frame removed.
The security of this system is completely dependent on how well the straps and hook-and-loop tape are attached to the basket, so, if you are tempted to give this a try, sew well! Neither the buckles nor the hook-and-loop tape will slip if they are installed in the right places, so it’s only the stitching that is vulnerable.
Here is the basket on Basil. (Indoors. Sadly, it’s not a good biking day.) The buckles and webbing add very little weight, and don’t impede airflow much, if at all, but make swapping out the wire basket easy and fast when the frame is needed elsewhere. I’ve freed up my modded S frame, and can now move on to the next bag — because, naturally, one just can’t have too much luggage for a Brompton. Right? Right?
Is it a panda shot if someone else takes it?
And if it’s taken from the side?
Yeah, I just love pictures of Basil. This isn’t an angle I get to see when cycling. That Brompton frame is just elegant.
Mr. Diarist caught Basil in a compromising position when we were out together recently. I was inside buying water, and this is not where I’d left Basil.
(“All he needs is a long board”, said Mr. D.)
This is not the first time Basil’s shown his anti-authoritarian side.
Mr. Diarist and I don’t often ride together, and he hadn’t been out on his mountain bike for months, but it was 64 degrees (nearly 18 C) on one of the last days in January, so we took off together on a ten mile jaunt.
It had been warming up a bit over the past few days, but there was still snow along the water’s edge, and some ice, too, in the water, and a little bit on land.
Mr. Diarist took the photos on this trip. That was kind of cool: I got to keep riding, but also was able to see familiar places through his eyes. Or at least his lens. Everyone, after all, sees things a little bit differently.
The snow drew a tidy margin all along the shore. On another stretch of water, the ice looked like parafin:
Mr. Diarist took some shots of Basil and me. These were revealing; I think of Basil as if he’s a full-sized bicycle, so it was a shock to realize that he really doesn’t look like one. He just performs like one!
Bromptons really are distinctive. Who knew? I thought that my ability to spy them anywhere was due to a profound affinity for the little creatures. Maybe it’s just down to how exquisitely diminutive they are. And that great-looking frame.
In spite of the mild temperature, few other people were out. “Gotta love January”, said Mr. Diarist, as we rode onto the trail. In January, we can ride at any speed we wish. April will be a different story.
There’s a bit of a roguish side to my Brompton bicycle.
He’s fond of hopping onto sewer lids, for instance (though only if they’re elevated). You’d think they were especially designed to be pedestals for Bromptons. That’s the formal pose above.
He’s looking a bit saucier from this angle.
Posing is well and good, but Basil’s most into action. A couple of quick snaps, and he’s ready to tackle the road once again.
Late afternoon, in winter:
Basil next to the tracks at the entrance to the Schuylkill River Park.
It didn’t happen. On Friday we had snow — a lovely, fluffy snow. It had stopped by Saturday morning, so I got up at 5 AM, and Basil and I caught an early train to Philadelphia.
It was 18 degrees (F) (just about -8 C), which made it the coldest day I’d been out with Basil. I was well-prepared, though, and, except for my hands, plenty warm enough, thanks to seven carefully arranged layers of clothing.
I rode from the train station to the group meeting point, as usual. The trail had been well-salted, and the portion up to the Art Museum was safe to ride. For the first time, I saw very few joggers, and only three other bicyclists in the forty-five minutes I was in and around the trail.
Once past the most-used section, trail/sidewalk/road conditions were pretty bad. I couldn’t quite capture them with my camera — in these photos, you can’t see the way lumpy ice and water puddles were co-existing, for example. There was an amazing amount of ice under that fluffy snow, too.
It became clear, very quickly, that I didn’t have the skill necessary to deal with these conditions. (I really wondered who did!) Tim, our experienced and intrepid ride leader, had reminded me at the end of last week’s progressive that the rides were only canceled if it were snowing or raining an hour before the start — not for wind or cold.
I waited until a bit after the ride start time so that I could tell Tim that I was opting out. (I’d pre-registered for the ride, so he’d have known I’d planned to come.) When Tim didn’t materialize, I figured something was up. Sure enough, when I got home and checked the club listing, I realized the ride had, indeed, been canceled. (I’d only checked the weather before leaving at 6 AM. Lesson learned!)
Later, I discovered that Tim had left a message on Mr. Diarist’s phone on Friday night, and Tim explained that he’d canceled due to ice on the roads and paths. This was actually a great relief — apparently it isn’t a good idea for anyone to ride on ice!
So no 55 mile (88.5 km) grand finale to this series, but Tim’s going to do another progressive in March. I can’t wait!
Basil and I set out to catch the train, as usual, early in the morning, for the third in Tim’s BCP progressive series.
The Philadelphia Museum of Art was looking majestic and quite wintery.
Two of us met up with our fearless leader. Last week’s ride was 35 miles, so this one was ten more, bringing us up to 45 on our third Saturday in a row.
Our first stop was for coffee and sandwiches at the Outward Bound in Conshohocken. Yet again, I failed to get a picture of this nifty little cafe. Just off the Schuylkill Trail, it’s a perfect spot for a warm drink and a quick bite. Next time, I’ll make sure to get a snap before I cross the threshold.
Mila (I hope I’ve spelled her name correctly) was colder than she expected to be, and ended up heading back while Tim and I forged on. We reached our mid-point — the Betzwood Trailhood on the Schuylkill River Trail, and checked out the map.
We started off the map to the southeast, and turned around at the northern border of Valley Forge Park. You can probably just about make out the “Betzwood Trailhead” caption near the center, above.
When we returned to Manayunk, it was time for more libation. We stopped at Salon L’Etoile, which really is a coffee shop, though it’s hard to tell that it’s here, in a glimpse from the street. Tim is very fond of latte; I had a lovely, adult, cocoa. (Update 2/1/13, see below.)
Basil fit right behind my chair, and just under the counter.
Total mileage for me was just over 46 miles, and I deeply regretted not doing the additional four to make it to fifty. However, this ride, though not much further than a couple of previous rides, had been much more difficult. I was well and truly worn by the time Basil and I made it home.
WeatherSpark explained it: These were the highest winds I’ve experienced while cycling: 17-24 MPH (roughly 27 to 38 KPH) with bursts to 27 MPH (roughly 43 KPH).
Map image from Schuylkill River Trail.
Update 2/1/13 — an observant correspondent has pointed out that there really is a salon beneath that canopy, and suggests that the coffee shop is not named “Salon L’Etoile”. A little research confirms the truth of this: The coffee shop is to the right, under the canopy in the photo, and is called either Cafe Volo (just about everywhere) or Volo Coffeehouse (on their unfinished website). Thanks, Saul!
The day after the second progressive ride, I met up with a really nice group of people to ride from Conshohocken to Phoenixville. It was a very typical day for this first half of January. Crisp, cold and clear.
That’s not a complaint. I really like these days.
Destination: Phoenixville, whose independent theater, the Colonial, has its own web page.
This crowd I’ve fallen into always has a snack destination in mind. We need fuel, right? Most of the group went to the Artisans. In spite of the fact that you can see Basil there, a couple of us snuck off to Steel City.
Steel City’s Dark Chocolate Cocoa was calling to me. (The sharp-eyed will note that this photo is from August. I forgot to take one on this trip. The lure of dark cocoa was that strong.)
I took one more shot over looking the river, on the way back. We’ll have snow here soon, probably for a couple of months, until mid-March, and the scenery will be much different, unless this turns out to be an atypical year.
This was an unexpected opportunity, and I met a bunch of new-to-me cyclists who turned out to be great people. I’m hoping to see all of them again on future rides!
This trip was roughly 30 miles, if I remember correctly, but I rode 35 miles in all, for total mileage for the weekend of 75 miles. Not bad for a barely-reformed couch potato.