Remember when you were a kid, and you were so enamored of your bicycle that you wanted to ride it everywhere? And your mother said, "No bikes in the house!" Well, maybe it's the little kid in me who was denied the joy of bringing his bike into the house, but there's something about having a bicycle inside that makes me very happy. I'm lucky enough to have a safe, sheltered place to keep my bikes outside of the house, but I brought the Huffeigh up for a bit of cleaning and adjustment tonight, and I've been enjoying having it in the living room as an objet d'art.
I also take inordinate satisfaction in cleaning, checking, and adjusting all the little bits. Especially with old bikes, which can sometimes be temperamental, it's important to do monthly or weekly safety checks. Because I rebuilt both of these wheels myself, I'm a little paranoid about the wheels, so I check spoke tension and rim trueness, and I'm perennially making adjustments to the brakes. There's something about checking in with the bike, doing all the little maintenance things, that gives me a great deal of satisfaction. It stems, I think, from what motivated me to get into old bikes in the first place: getting to truly know and understand and maintain your own form of transportation. There's something very simple and yet very liberating about that.
Really, it's more of a cave that sort of passes for a garage. We rent a small cottage on a lot with two other houses, a fairly common situation in Southern California. The property is on a hill and the garages for all three places were added as an afterthought sometime in about the 1930s or 1940s. They were sort of carved out from beneath the property and have never been finished or had electricity run to them, so they're pretty primitive. This space is exactly big enough for one car, but I've got five assembled bikes (and three disassembled, presently) in there. I've been working on bikes down there for about a year and finally this summer got around to organizing a workshop of sorts. I cleaned it up yesterday after finishing dismantling the hub donor bike, and though it looked about as good as it was ever likely to, so I took some photos.
I have a pretty hard and fast policy on not doing commercial posts of any kind, but I also really like to promote the work of independent artists doing interesting work. I mentioned Kara Ginther's hand-carved Brooks saddles briefly in another post recently, so I wanted to give a little blog time to Christopher Koelle, too, especially since his work may be of particular interest to readers of this blog. From his Etsy profile:
My name is Christopher Koelle and I love drawing people with bicycles, especially from the early days of cycling.
The original Sweet Ride art zine sparked in me an ongoing fascination with the history of travel and roads, from the Good Roads Movement of Horatio Earle to the epic, sprawling interstate highways we love and hate today. Sweet Ride is now just the beginning of a progressively larger ongoing body of work about these histories.
On the way home from running some errands this morning, as I approached my turn to go home, I decided that I wanted to keep riding, just for the sheer joy of it. I only went an extra block, but it got me thinking about the difference between riding a bicycle and driving. Whenever I'm driving, I really don't like having to go out of my way, even if it's just a block. As a driver, I've been conditioned (as most have) to expect convenience, and anything that inconveniences me in the car seems like a massive hassle. On a bike, though, a detour just means more time on the bike, and (usually) more fun. When was the last time you decided to drive your car an extra block just for fun?
PS -- One of the errands was to get a different needle for my saddle bag project. Updates on that, and other things, coming soon!
The word
bike is derived from the word bicycle. The "bi" part indicates two (as in wheels), while the "ke" evokes the hard "c" in cycle. A bicycle is a human-powered, two-wheeled vehicle. A motorcycle is not a bicycle, and thus is not a bike. If we followed the same etymological logic, a motorcycle would be a
moke, not a bike. Allowances will be made for the word
motorbike, which is acceptable. That is all.
The OBB is undergoing some design/cleanup maintenance, so please bear with any temporary irregularities in font, layout, etc. Comments will not be affected.
Edit: I've been re-subpeonaed for early September.
...need their bearings cleaned and repacked.
I've been promising a few folks that I would blog about the car v. bicyclist road rage incident I witnessed last year, but the case (in which I was scheduled to testify this morning) has been continued, which means it will come up again, and I'll be subpoena'd again. I don't want to compromise my testimony in any way, so I'm not going to give the details of the incident yet. Mind you, this happened about ten months ago at this point. I'll keep you posted.
The OBB is TWO years old as of yesterday! I celebrated the event by taking the Columbia, my first restoration, on a grocery run and then I made another one today. Huzzah for transportational bicycling! Thanks to all my loyal readers (81 Followers as of today, plus all the other feed-readers and lurkers), you folks rock!
Just received the announcement for the July Mid-City Bike Blast ride, and it sounds like an exceptionally awesome ride! If you live in San Diego, or within a reasonable distance, this is one you don't want to miss:
"You are cordially invited to July 11th Bike Blast! We will meet at the City Heights Farmer’s Market at 10:00 AM, leaving at 10:30 AM. Teaming up with San Diego Food Not Lawns, this month we will be stopping at different gardens: elementary school, community, and private gardens in the Mid City area. People who work on these gardens will be there to show us around, and maybe even let us share their produce! Bring something to carry your veggies: a bag, a backpack, a basket, or panniers. We ask that children under 10 are accompanied by an adult or older sibling. We will be going at a slow, conversational pace, and bring your helmet! We will do our best to stick together, but if you get too far behind, you will be on your own. After the ride, stay and shop at the City Heights Farmer’s Market!"
Balboa Park and its satellite neighborhood parks are so vast, we could have a picnic every weekend for a year and never have it in the same place twice. We just might!
As my bicycle stable has, well, stabilized for the time-being, I'm finding that I do not love all my children just the same. I find myself drawn to the Huffeigh even for errands that might better belong to either the Columbia or the Schwinn.
Two nights ago, I ran to the market for beer, a half-gallon of milk, and one of those little watermelons. It ended up being quite a heavy little load of stuff. Instead of taking the Columbia or the Schwinn, which are better-equipped to take this kind of load, I couldn't resist the stately allure of the Huffeigh, with its new Brooks saddle and cork grips and bell and gleaming black paint. I was a little surprised to find that the whole disproportionately heavy load fit quite nicely into the little basket I've mounted on the rear rack, and I had no trouble at all.
The bikes have also fallen into clear roles: the Columbia is the work-horse, the grocery bike, the long-hauler. It sits me forward a bit more, the saddle is higher, and I feel like I pedal it more efficiently -- better for hard work. The Runwell, which has been idle for some time awaiting new tires, is always going to be the older gentleman who doesn't get out much, I'm afraid. And the Schwinn, well, the Schwinn is quite comfortable, but ungainly and heavy.
But the Huffeigh is just the right combination of all three: it can carry a load, it's sufficiently old, and it's very comfortable. I just like it, is all. So now we're about to go on a picnic, and although I probably should take one of the other bikes, I think it's going to be the Huffeigh again.
While my substantive blogging slows down. BTW, the rust on the Huffeigh's rims (seen above), which I could not remove (trust me, it's not going anywhere) has proven to be a
fantastic benefit in the rain. Anyone with steel rims can tell you they don't brake worth a hoot when wet, but the extra texture of the rust seems to help. In fact, I didn't notice much difference from my normal brake performance.
The
Chicago Tribune has put up a sweet little gallery of bicycles and bicycling from its archives.
What she's really saying: "Son of a bitch, this thing weighs a ton!"
Folks, I'm very happy that the OBB is getting more readers than ever, and I'm always glad to receive reader emails and comments. Back when I was only getting a few at a time, I tried to respond to every comment and write back to every email. I'd still like to do that, but as traffic here picks up, so does the work going on in other parts of my life, so I'm going to post a standing apology to anyone who was expecting a reply to a comment, or who hasn't received an email back from me yet. Sometimes they fall through the cracks, sometimes I miss them entirely, and sometimes I just don't get around to responding for a while. Best to keep bugging me, and eventually I'll respond.
I also mentioned a few posts ago that blogging in general is slowing down for me right now, which is still holding true, so posts here are going to be less frequent than they were for a while. But I'm still here, so while you wait for a new post, go back and read through the archives, there's a ton of good stuff there. Or, better yet, go for a bike ride!
