Old, Odd but Useful

I'm sure some people think that I am writing the titles of my blog to describe myself but today it's to describe what I saw on my ride.

Some old, odd but still useful trucks. Such as this Ford Falcon Econoline Club Wagon. Not the most stable vehicle, some had a 75 kg weight in the rear to counterbalance the driver and engine (which was between the front wheels). This one is 50 years old.

Here's the equivalent design from Dodge. (I am splicing in this photo, as I found the truck a day after this blog was posted.) Notice the generous application of self-tapping screws holding in the self-installed windows.

This clean little Rabbit diesel pickup looked pretty well-cared-for, compared to the few I have seen recently. It's a unibody design with no separate frame (hence no gap between cab and bed). This vehicle was made in VW's Pennsylvania factory starting around 1979.

The 'Eighties Jeep Commanche pickup is also a unibody, but had struts bolted under the cab to hold the back of the truck on. As described in Wikipedia:
The Comanche featured monocoque (unibody) construction, an unusual form of truck design, somewhat similar to the Volkswagen Rabbit pickup and Dodge Rampage. The Comanche has a more conventional removable cargo box like conventional body/frame design trucks. The Rabbit and Rampage are technically coupe utilities, not trucks, since the cargo bed is an integral part of the body structure and not removeable.
I saw nothing in Wikipedia about the general political leanings of Commanche truck owners. The back was also festooned with decals and stickers for Ron Paul.

Enough of that stuff. It was a beautiful day today and I stayed on the bike for about 2 hours. All the gears were used, from bottom to top, and I noticed a bit of chain noise, so time to apply some lube. I also might condition the Brooks saddle. Ouch.

Here's a scenic vista for you - Pacific Ocean in the background:

Watch Where You Are Going

Have you ever run into anything on your bike?

I have. As a kid, while looking the other way, I rode right into a parked car. I was stunned to find myself on its roof. Later, in college, when the brake cable broke on a steep downhill, I crashed myself into a large hedge. Neither time did I hit the ground, and neither time was I hurt (much).

Many people ride off road, because they say it is safer - no cars! But that doesn't make it safe. I'd guess just as often they run into trees, over the edge of the trail into the brush, tumble into rocks, fall over in the sand and mud, etc.

Here are the main times, places and causes of bike crashes (Thanks to BikeSafe):

• Urban riding, not at an intersection, during summer evenings
• About a third involve drinking (by the bicyclist)
• Riding the wrong way on the road, on the sidewalk, or across driveways (with car coming out)
• Ignoring traffic signals and signs, or running into an open(ing) car door
• Riding at night without lights

If you prefer numbers, here are the top 6 causes from an analysis of 8000 crashes:

• A motorist failing to yield (21.7 percent of crashes)
• A bicyclist failing to yield at an intersection (16.8 percent of crashes)
• A motorist turning or merging into the path of the bicyclist (12.1 percent of crashes)
• A bicyclist failing to yield at a midblock location, i.e. driveway (11.7 percent of crashes)
• A motorist overtaking a bicyclist (8.6 percent of crashes)
• A bicyclist turning or merging into the path of the motorist (7.3 percent of crashes)

Notice the blame is pretty evenly distributed with cyclists and drivers!

Today I saw a minivan drive right into a moving van. Of course, it wasn't like the Italian Job, or any other those other movies where the crooks drive up into a van (on the move!) so they can hide the getaway car. No, this fella in the white minivan ran right into the rear corner of the truck. 

The movers had correctly positioned 3 warning triangles out in the road, but the minivan wasn't paying attention. The impact ripped the whole front of the minivan off, tore half the rear bumper off the truck, and gave the movers a mighty fright. I circled back and took a photo. Sorry it doesn't look as dramatic here, as they had already finished picking up the busted van and broken furniture.

If a driver doesn't notice a moving van, why should he or she notice you on your bike?

Speaking of Watch Where You Are Going, this morning I made up a bracket, hung it on the front of my fork, and filmed a squirrel's eye view of the road:

It's really not much fun, is it? Too bumpy, and too close to the spokes. I don't want to destroy my iPhone just for this blog. So tomorrow, I think I will stick to conventional photography. Speaking of that, here's a photo to make you grimace!

Go here to get some crash prevention tips

I Never Expected a Road Garden

There I was, riding along, and suddenly a miniature garden appeared, right in the middle of the street. Perfectly circular, on a major residential roadway, and growing happily. I was astonished.

Would you like to have a look? This is from standing height.

Perhaps a closer look? Zoomed in a bit. 

This garden is apparently growing where an access hole was drilled to inspect something under the asphalt - how else can we explain the circularity and sharp edges of the hole? Notice there are several species of plants, grasses, weeds, etc. And a bright yellow flower.

This tiny garden in the road reminded me of The Green Man, a song by Malcolm Guite. 

I'm the Green Man and I make love with the rain,

I'm the Green Man and it's time to break my chain

You might think I'm finished but I'll spring back up again

You can cover me in concrete, staple me down with steel,

Spread your houses and your car parks over my fields

But I'll still be there keeping everything alive

And I'll spring back green - but you might not survive .... 

Riding along, I also noticed a peculiar windvane poking up over someone's garage. A cross between Lindberg Field and the Hotel Del Coronado, perhaps?

I stopped to take a photo of it, which drew the attention of a neighbor starting his car, who then followed me slowly down the street, glaring angrily at me through his side window - for invading the privacy of his public alleyway. It didn't seem very private to me, and besides, I once lived in the house in-between Mr. Windvane and Mr. Irate.

Just so you don't think I am only strolling, and taking photos, here's today's proof.

Paint My Ride

Painting a bike frame is a pain in the neck. An open expanse of tubing ensures the bulk of the paint goes into the air and not on the frame. And there are lots of sneaky little cracks and crevices that resist being painted. Despite the trouble, I've had at least a dozen frames repainted. Some by myself, two powder-coated by R.W. Little, and several painted by the all-time master of bicycle painting,  JB Bicycle Refinishing.

I believe a white Olmo was the first frame I had powder coated. I sold it on to my brother Dan back in the early Seventies. It wasn't a perfect paint job but it was durable. And very shiny. Then I did a Bianchi because I couldn't stand the "dentist office green" paint that was standard on those bikes. A favorite Italian color, you might see it nowadays on a Vespa or Fiat 500.

(photo from the web)

Here's my tandem frame fresh out of the box but in its original paint, with decals saying Cycles California. The frame maker was Dana Fenimore, a substance-addled craftsman who put off our increasingly urgent calls of "Where are the frames?" with an unforgettable reply: "At this point, basic psychological survival is my primary concern!"

There were some flaws when my frame finally came in, so JB decided to do to repaint everything. It came out a bit lighter and brighter than the original coat. I can tell this is the original photo because the bike is still wearing its Cycles California decals on the bottom tube. They were removed for the repaint job and never replaced.

Notice on the photo below how the rear rack appears a bit darker than the frame? It has the original paint. Either I forgot to get JB to paint the racks, or he told me to forget it! He repainted this frame as a favor to me, otherwise it might have cost as much the price of building the frame. (Dana wasn't a very saavy businessman).

The Raleigh International Touring used to be brown too. In a fit of enthusiasm, I took it to RW Little's shop, had the paint blasted off, and replaced with a bright red powder coating. It looked great! I know that I took this photo about the time we bought our first house, in 1976 or 1977. I might have sold this bike to my brother too - I can't remember.

The Red Raleigh was around for a few years, then I built my Platano tourer to replace it. Here's a period photo in the same back yard. Nice reflectors!

And here it is today, nearly 40 years later, for comparison. I guess I'll have to track down those racks and lights and load it up again.

Once we were a two-Raleigh family. In the shot below, you see my wife's Raleigh Professional. I bought it from Ken and Teresa, who were migrating from English bikes to Italian. This was formerly Teresa's bike. It had very trick Campagnolo lightweight stuff on it. A bit much for commuting to work, really. Many years later Ken taught me watch-making and I bought his watch business. (Do you see neighbor Ron's 70 1/2 Camaro Z-28 in the background?)

A bit later, Laurie decided she wanted her bike to feel fresh and new. So we took it over to JB and had him apply a spiffy purple and white paint job. It's now about 33 years old. She still rides this bike - in fact you saw her riding it in an earlier post called Look Around You.

Look Around You

As I said in the first of my posts, I don't ride primarily for exercise or transportation. I have been riding for recreation - that is, Re-Creation of my mind and body by getting outdoors and moving. So as a consequence, I look around a lot. Cars, yards, birds, etc.  I saw three Corvettes - red and white C6 models and one white beauty from 1962. But I didn't have my camera ready. So you have to settle for an H1 Hummer for today's car-on-the-street, under-the-handlebars photo.

Shortly afterwards, I was zipping along our arterial route. I saw something for virtually the first time. Even though I must have seen it "a million times" before.

I saw this carved door, on the front of an office building designed by Richard Wheeler,  a prominent mid-century architect in San Diego. He designed my house. So I got off my bike, knelt down on the ground, and shot upwards to capture as much of the door as I could. What do you think?

I saw another rider following me closely. When I stopped, she stopped. Like a shadow. She stayed at the edge of my vision - first on one side, then the other. Finally I surprised her by slamming on the brakes. She went ahead, and I snapped a picture. It was my wife! Riding like this seemed very strange, because we haven't ridden our single bikes together for at least 10 years. We always take the tandem. 

This succulent garden drew our attention. If you look closely in the middle [click any image to enlarge it, then return to come back), you might see a red snake sunning itself on the rock. It was definitely a snake. We left quickly, rode for a few more minutes, then went home. 

PS - it was a rubber snake. Would you like to see a real rattlesnake that snuck into my office?

Early Morning Ride Two

Yes, that's right, the title means two people riding early in the morning - on a tandem. Not just the second time I've gone riding before 8 am.

I should have given the camera to my wife, but she's not that saavy on using an iPhone, nor does she see that well with sunglasses and no correction. So I just took a few shots as I normally do while riding. I like the way they came out - illustrating both the sun angle and our mutual endeavor.

CAUTION: The following photo was taken by a professional rider on a closed course. Do not attempt this at home.

Shadows are not enough. We thought we should capture some of the dynamic feeling of tandem riding. But then I discovered the "degree of difficulty" of tandem photography. Do you know how hard it is to take decent photos between your legs while pedaling AND holding the camera AND steering the bike?

I only got one usable shot before I concluded we were highly likely to crash into a curb or fall over. It does nicely illustrate the chains on both side (I use masking tape on both legs of my jeans; the poor man's pants clips). And if you look closely you can see what gear we are in.

I eventually put away the phone and we did some actual riding. Up and down a few hills, managing even to get into the Low-Low gears. And we spotted a nice old Cadillac Eldorado not far from home.

Early Morning Ride

I love to ride in the early morning, just after the sun comes up. I never had a paper route, so perhaps it's because I used to commute to work. You feel the crisp air, smell things that disappear in the middle of the day, hear train whistles and bird calls.

There's always dew on the lawns in the morning in our neighborhood. And plenty of funky vehicles sitting by the curb, hoping they will be chosen today, to take their master to work. (Instead of that new SUV that's stolen his affection.)

Some might say, "It's a good time to get kilt."

Drivers are thinking work, or school, or balancing their coffee while changing the talk-radio show. Dogs are straining at leashes, dragging groggy owners up the street for a little "dog relief" at the park. Gardeners are unloading mowers, housekeepers are shuffling quietly towards their home for the day. No one notices a cyclist. We're off the radar, and must keep a sharp lookout for danger.

Took a few more photos while riding. I know the top corners are distorted and the bottom edge is sharp, but I like this photo.

I rode around silently for about a half hour, making no noise at all. Why? As a young Boy Scout, I was preoccupied with skulking around like an Indian. We were taught not to break a branch, crush leaves underfoot, or make any unnecessary noise. None of this "Take only photos, leave only footprints" for our Troop 315. Both were an assault on the land. Instead, we learned "Make no noise, leave no sign". (Yes, I have always been a geek).

This training has come back to plague me as an adult, as I've discovered that silence is a rare thing. Most people are pretty noisy, most of the time. And happy about it, too. But in the morning, there a slight chance of calm and stillness. Between the rattling roar of the neighbor's diesel pickup and the Fedex plane overhead.

My bikes are silent, by design and refinement. No creaking saddles, no squealing brakes, no rattling chain or grinding gears. It's possible to tune almost any bike to be silent, but you have to work at it, and I do. Of course when it comes to breathing - at the moment I'm wheezing.

Remember - Skulk!

Tandem Touring

Welcome to Cycling Cazalea, as I'm trying to psych myself into riding my bike again after having a 20-year layoff. (No miles were ridden today; I'm still sick and it's still raining).

Although most of my riding has been local commuting, or up and down the Pacific coastline, we have traveled quite a bit on our bikes too. Cycle Touring is the preferred term, I think. The shot below shows our brown tandem, and the trip was through the San Juan Islands, in Washington State.

 

Here's my wife holding up our bike on the way through Warner Springs heading towards the Anza Borrego desert. I only know that because we have ridden through this valley dozens of times.

This next batch of photos is from a trip through the Canadian Rockies, in 1986. Remember that you can click on any photo to see it a larger size (then hit return to come back).

I don't remember too much about the trip except we worked HARD. I know there were 3 tandems and a couple of singles. The guy on the right is a mystery to me. The couple in the middle are Bill and Lynn. The hairy guy on the left is George. Laurie is in yellow and I must be taking the photo.

Here's the tandem and my wife on a rare day when she was smiling. Usually she was crying with pain and frustration. I remember that we went up to 7000 feet elevation, down to 5000, then up again to about 8000 feet or so. This was a tough ride - about 1200 miles in 2 weeks. Average 90 a day but at least we had pre-booked hotels so we didn't have to mess around looking for a place to camp.

We had to repair a few punctures by the side of the road, as shown here. Sometimes in the rain and once with bears within shouting distance. The rear wheel on a loaded tandem is the worst place for a tire to be. And the hardest to fix. Everything gets strewn around the landscape.

This shot illustrates cycle-touring weather protection. A rain cape! Booties over our shoes. I recall this as one of the meanest days of the trip. Lots of climbing, and it started to snow. In July!

We did rent a "sag wagon" to carry some of our gear, but we quickly discovered that our economical choice of Chevy Chevette was not exactly capable of carrying all of us or all the bikes!

Here's my car-spotting trophy from the Canadian Tour. I saw this little Citroen 2CV next to a giant lumber truck, and fell in love. I bought it virtually on-the-spot, and although I don't own it at the moment, my friend Gary lets me drive it whenever I want to.

Thanks for checking out the blog. I promise I'll ride tomorrow. Honest Injun.

A Brief Respite

We had a rainstorm last night. High winds this morning have dried the ground and cleared the skies. So out I went for a short ride on the Banana Bike.

My shadow is punctuated by sparkles off the paving, caused by the intensely bright sun behind me.

I can see and feel that it's time to find a new set of brake hoods. All my bikes need new hoods - the natural rubber material rots away, leaving peaks and valleys of hard and soft. There's little chance my hands will slip, but I don't experience much cushion or comfort there either.

This safety mirror I found in one of our alleys helps to convey the sense of this morning's clean and bright atmosphere. I wish I could take a deep breath without coughing and hacking.

I decided to do the weekly shopping this morning and take my bike along. That gave me a chance to explore some farther reaches that I don't yet have breathing capacity to reach unassisted. Here's a photo of an unpaved alley in the "wooded district".

Along the way I spotted this rare white Cadillac hearse, headed for the Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery. I hope there was no one "in the back" because the driver was setting a very brisk and disrespectful pace through the residential neighborhood ... he might have been late for the event!

I'm considering this my car-spotting target for the day.

Tandem Triangulation

The word "triangulate" is what comes to my mind when I think about my tandem. Although this blog is supposed to be about me riding a bike, and not about the actual bikes, we are stalling for time while my cold fades away and the pouring rain lets up.

"Tandem Triangulation" really means "two and threes".

Two parallel tubes meeting cross pieces at each end (forming a square) can be stiffened by a diagonal member (forming multiple triangles). A triangle is an inherently stable shape.  My bike is made up of dozens of triangles. Even the two sets of diagonals that cross the center of the bike are themselves laterally cross-braced.

Frames aren't made this way anymore, because they are said to be too complex, too laborious to build, too heavy, too stiff, etc. But this is what we have, we've ridden for 34 years, and we still like it.

This frame came from Dana Fenimore, aka California Cycles. It's special oversized Italian Columbus tubing, joined with hand-made lugs and silver-solder throughout. Dana built it for me in 1979. I cut and bent small diameter chrome-moly tubing to create the racks, which I think were brazed by Bill Holland.

If you read my post on my touring bike, the Platano, you may recognize some common features, like the overall color scheme and trim. The component group is higher quality - all Campagnolo crankset, pedals, seat posts, shift levers, headset, etc. I used a Cinelli front stem and bars, and had a custom rear stem fabricated to match the frame. This bike is brown with a pearl clearcoat.

The color of the seats match the paint - it took months to get the seats in that leather color. And the bar tape is the same too. I'm sure a similar scheme could be created today if you wanted to spent the effort tracking things down and planning "the look".

As with my touring single, I specified braze-on fittings galore - rack mounts, generator and light mounts, wire and cable guides, water bottle cage mounts, matching pump, cantilever brakes, vertical drop-outs and so on. 

The derailleurs are not Japanese this time; there is a Huret Duo-Par, a legendary titanium-bodied, dual parallelogram design with extra-long cage and almost unlimited gearing range capacity. Unlike my single whose high gear ratio is 93 inches (48 x 14), the tandem has a 110 inch high (53 x 13).

The right rear crankarm has extra drilled and tapped holes which allow a Stronglight chainring to be mounted inside the Campagnolo rings. This gives us a low gear of 24 inches (28 x 32) which you need to climb hills with the tandem.

Since we intended to tour with this bike, I wanted to fit shorter, fatter tires. They improve handling on dirt, the rubber lasts longer, the ride is smoother, the gearing gets lowered slightly, there's more clearance for fenders and mud, etc. The only drawbacks are that it was harder to get tires, and it takes more effort to pedal. And a technical difficulty was that cantilever brakes - obligatory on tandems - can't span both tire sizes. 

Think, think, think - and I came up with a solution. We used removable studs as the cantilever pivots, instead of the normal brazed-on cantilever mounts. That way I could change the wheels, screw in the stud at the proper point, mount the brakes, and ride off. 

Notice the set of Allen bolts below the brakes. I remove the bolts (plugs) move my brakes down an inch, put the bolts in the upper holes and Presto! Bob's your Uncle. Or Robert is your mother's brother. 

The rear hub has threads on both sides. On the opposite side of the cluster, there is a Phil Wood disc brake. An extinct design, it works well for me but has been superseded by other types of disc brakes. It's operated by a cable that I can pull (or set to drag) from my single handle-bar-end shifter lever.

The rear hub is 140 mm wide which allows a stable rear wheel that is evenly triangulated. There are no quick-releases long or strong enough, so this wheel is retained in the frame with Allen bolts. If I recall correctly, they are the same size as the brake boss plugs, so I need carry only one size wrench. These were very strong and very expensive wheels, and I built 2 identical sets, just differing in outer rim diameter (650B and 27 inch).

There are other nifty things on this bike. The fork crown was made by Dana to fit extra-strong fork tubes that were created by pressing one thin fork blade inside a slightly larger one. The main frame tubes are all oversized. Although they appear normal in the photos, they are larger in diameter than single bike tubing. The bottom tube is gigantic.

That's about enough. Can we finish with the old car I spotted today? A Renault Caravelle Floride.