How I Got Into Bicycles

My life with bicycles started later than most. My parents bought me my first bike, a red Dunelt coaster brake single speed, around my 9th birthday, I think. It was much later that I learned to ride. We moved when I was six, to a house on a busy main street, at the top of a steep hill. My dad apparently worried about me riding there... he was a cautious guy by nature, so it makes sense. I wasn't exactly the daredevil of the neighborhood either, so time passed. I think I was about 12 or so when my brother took it upon himself to teach me to ride. He'd moved out to a nearby townhouse, and it happened to have a nearly unused street behind it. So one day he took me back there and slowly, patiently, got me started riding. The first time I felt like I was moving totally under my own power and control was like magic.

The funny thing is, unlike many kids, I never stopped. Maybe it was because I started late, or maybe not. I rode that Dunelt everywhere, with friends, and alone. On streets, down dirt paths into the woods, you name it. As I got more into it, I lowered the handlebars for a more "aerodynamic position". The funny thing is that this was the late 60s/early 70s... so all my friends were on Sting Rays and the like, while I was on this red, fendered, "British Professor Bike". No matter, I loved that bike... it was freedom, fun, and adventure for me.

But of course... we always want more... something new and different. And those were the early days of widespread appearance of that magical creation... the TEN SPEED! My sister got a lovely blue Raleigh Record, and I was smitten. I launched a campaign of hinting incessantly to my parents that what I really needed was a 10 speed... preferably a white Raleigh Record! I have no idea now how long this went on, but I must have driven my parents crazy with constantly showing them pictures in catalogs and such. I had just about accepted the fact that it just wasn't going to happen... it was just too big and expensive a thing for a couple with five kids growing up. Then on Christmas Day, I was asked to get one of my sisters out of the living room so my parents could surprise her with some big present. She and I were both surprised... I've long since forgotten what her big gift was, but there by the tree was a white Raleigh Record, all for me!

If I thought the Dunelt meant adventure and freedom, that Raleigh was a whole step beyond. With that bike, I rode farther and longer than I could have imagined... even going to OTHER TOWNS! Seems silly now, but that was huge back then. I was in junior high by then I guess, and I explored far and wide. And I began to learn about the mechanics of bikes. With the Dunelt, it was pretty basic... one speed, and a coaster brake. The Raleigh had 10 speeds, two derailleurs, and hand brakes front and rear. I learned how to adjust the gears and brakes, even learned how to overhaul hubs and the bottom bracket. A whole new world opened up to me there... I'd built models and things like that, but never really done anything mechanical before. Learning both the riding and mechanical skills that Raleigh taught me did a lot to help me gain confidence and grow up.

And I started reading everything I could about bikes. Much of what I learned about riding and mechanics I learned from two classics of the era: Richard's Bicycle Book, by Richard Ballentine, and Anybody's Bike Book, by Tom Cutherbertson. Wonderful books, and since I was always a book lover, it makes sense that I would turn to books to learn. Besides, I didn't really have anyone else to teach me... my dad didn't really know about bikes, my brother had moved away, and none of my friends were really into it either.

Now reading those books, and others, lead to the inevitable desire for something better... something new. So I set my sights... on a Fuji S-10S, Special Road Racer. Don't let the name fool you... the bike was anything but a racer... but it was a highly rated bike in several publications, including my favorite, Richard's. By this time I had started earning money in a small kite company my then-brother-in-law and I started (the subject for another post?), so I saved up my money, until I had enough to buy the bike myself. It was a very happy and proud day when I plunked down my $225 plus tax on a shiny new 1977 S-10S. I went from the white Raleigh to a black and chrome Fuji... and interestingly, my next two bikes were also variations on black. Come to think of it, the "trashmo" bike I bought for college ended up spray painted black, so I guess it was a theme of sorts. Not sure why... I think I thought black was classy.

That Fuji was a revelation... lighter and smoother riding than the Raleigh, with a much more reliable drive train, and the first bike I tried toe clips and straps with. Those may seem quaint now to some, but they were the ultimate in connection to your bike, and a statement about your expertise. That Fuji was also my ticket out of the horrors of gym class for me. I hated the team sports and such, in part because I was terrible at most of them, and was the classic "last to be picked" kid. Luckily for me, as I was about to start high school they instituted a new policy, that if you would commit to some number of hours of some regular athletic activity on your own, you could opt out of gym. Hmmmm... an hour a day of humiliation and sweat with a bunch of other guys, or ride my bike to my heart's content? Tough call. Funny thing is, I don't recall that there was any sort of real proof required that I was doing it... but no doubt I did. I rode that bike constantly... even after getting my driver's license. Unlike most teens, the driver's license didn't lead me to put away the bike. I just enjoyed riding too much.

After a year of college, and having a beater bike stolen, I decided it was time for something better again. I did a lot of shopping around and research, and there was this newish shop in a town called College Park near me... carrying a brand of bike that was largely unknown back then. It seems that after years of nothing but low end bikes made in the USA (apart from Schwinn, that is), this little company in Wisconsin by the name of Trek was starting to make a name for itself building frames and bikes by hand. It was May of 1980 when I bought my Trek 414... their low end model, but still hand brazed in the US. A wonderful, amazing bike, that I would have for many, many years. I still have it and ride it today, 27-plus years later. I've raced on it, toured on it, ridden it on pavement and dirt, in many states. Over the years it's become like an old friend, and I can't imagine parting with it now. I've changed out all the various parts except the frame, but if a bike can be said to have a soul, it is still intact in that frame.

I've owned many bikes over the years, and now own quite a few. Almost all of them have been or are great bikes. Some are "better" than the Trek in ways, or better at some kinds of riding... but the Trek goes on, as my reliable companion, and it just feels right and fits right. It's the bike I really entered adulthood with, and the bike that saw me through good times and bad. I hope to keep riding it for many years to come.

Summer in the Mid-Atlantic

Well, it's come a little early this year. Sometimes it holds off until July or even August if we're lucky, but this year, it's mid June and the humidity and heat are here. Not my idea of fun at all. I grew up in the region, but I've lived a lot of other places, and honestly, I prefer summer most other places I've lived. The slightest activity leaves me soaking wet and tired.... and working in a shop where we generally keep the a/c off most of the time, it's pretty challenging some days. Thank god for fans!

Riding isn't much fun this time of year either. The air feels heavy with moisture... you feel like you are having to push through the damp like a boat at sea. Breathing is harder, due to the heaviness, and the fact that pollution levels rise at this time as well. And while riding along on the flat or a downhill isn't so bad, when you come to a stop your clothes are instantly soaked through and you feel the heat rising off the pavement and from the tailpipes of the cars around you. It makes me miss the cold of winter. At least then my cycling warmed me up and made things better.

Kvetch, kvetch, kvetch. The thing to remember though is that I am out there... riding my bike. It's been one of my favorite things in the world since I first learned how. So I try to stop and remind myself what a gift it is to be able to simply ride, whatever the weather. I watched the movie Venus recently on DVD... starring Peter O'Toole. It tells the story of a man (and his friends) very late in life. Watching it reminded me that being able to hop on my bike and simply ride off somewhere is not something I should take for granted.

But of course, being human, that doesn't stop me from complaining about truly silly things like the weather from time to time. The trick is to catch oneself and remember the joy of just being here. And riding.

First Paid Frame Job!

That's right folks, I just completed my first paid frame job. A simple one, really, brazing on a set of brake cable housing guides on the top tube, and bottle bosses on the seat and down tubes. The customer was really happy and excited to get his frame back, and he's off to the powdercoater now. I particularly enjoyed having this one as my first job, as the frame was a 1980 Trek 412 frame, the same as the one I have had for 27 years now, only smaller and a different color. Interesting coincidence, this one was originally bought from the exact same shop where I bought mine. Small world. Actually, given how relatively unknown Trek was in 1980, there weren't very many shops carrying them. Hard to believe, when you see what a juggernaut they have become.

Anyway, I had a good time doing the work, and learned a few things along the way. And I had my first experience dealing with Nova Cycles Supply, who were my source for the cable guides. Great product and great service. Nice folks to boot!

It's a small beginning, but here's hoping it leads to bigger things.

How to talk to your bicycle mechanic part 5 (or "It's not dead yet!")

So I've covered those situations where the bike really has a serious, pretty much fatal problem. As I said, often that's pretty straightforward, and the owner can understand that it's time to move on. More difficult though, are the tougher cases (forgive me sounding like a doctor)... the ones where the bike needs SO much work that it's debatable whether or not it makes sense to go ahead with it.

The things that come into play here are typically: the sentimental value of the bike, cost of the repair vs. monetary value of the bike (and for want of a better way to phrase it "what will I end up with at the end of spending x amount of dollars on this bike?"), and finally the age of the bike and where it fits in the evolution of bicycle technology,

To start with, I often ask customers, when I've examined their bike and found it needs a lot of work, just how much sentimental value there is to the bike. To many people, a bike is simply a form of recreation or transportation (or both) with no really emotional attachment involved. In those cases, it's pretty easy to lay out the other factors and let them weigh their choices and make a decision.

Where sentiment is involved, it's a bit trickier, and I have to often remind myself that rationality is not necessarily a factor. Luckily for those customers, they have an understanding partner in me... I have a bike that I bought 27 years ago today, and I wouldn't part with it for the world, even if it required major, hugely expensive work. Granted, I'm pragmatic enough to keep in mind the possibility that one day it will suffer some fatal failure, and I'll have to retire it to the status of "wall art" or some other purely sentimental state. But I love that bike, and I can understand why others might feel the same way about theirs.

Another example... a gentleman came in last summer with a very neglected old road bike from the 70s, a Soma I believe. It was crusty with dirt and oxidation, and the paint looked awful. It desperately needed a thorough overhaul and a number of new parts. In many cases, the customer would have just said "oh, never mind, that's just too much"... but this fellow had bought the bike in college and had many, many fond memories wrapped around it. So we talked about it, figured out what made the most sense to get it ridable again, without getting too insanly expensive, and he went away happy, knowing his trusty mount would be saved.

So if you are presented with a "not quite dead" diagnosis, the first question to ask yourself is "how emotionally wrapped up am I with this bike?" That will help inform your choice in light of the other factors, and may even answer the question regardless of the other factors.

You also have to weigh the value of the bike (or the cost of replacing it) with the cost of the repair. Generally speaking, the more you paid for the bike initially, the more likely it is that it makes sense to have the work done. To illustrate, I work in a shop that is an odd mixture of your "small, friendly, family-oriented shop" and "high-end recumbent and folding bike enthusiast shop". A fairly common major repair is a complete or partial drive train replacement. As you may know, over time the chain and other parts of the drive train wear out and need to be replaced. A typical cost for a complete drivetrain replacement on a high end recumbent can easily run into $200 just for parts, while a similar job on something you bought at Wal-Mart would set you back something more like $75-100 in parts. However, the replacement cost for the entire bicycle in the first case is going to be upwards of $1500 typically, while the Wal-Mart special can probably be replaced with a similar bike for around $150. Added into that is the fact that the rest of the bicycle in each case is vastly different, both in ride quality and longevity. If you spend the $200+ on the 'bent (or a similarly high end bike of any kind), the other parts of the bike will continue to hold up well for a long time, assuming reasonable service and treatment. And the bike will ride "as good as new" with the new drive train. On the other hand, given the low quality of parts on a Wal-Martesque bike, once you've replaced the drive train, the rest of the bike is unlikely to hold up and last a long time, and I promise you, the ride quality, even when new, is nothing like that of a fine bicycle.

That's not to dismiss such bikes entirely. As someone who works in an IBD (Independent Bicycle Dealer), I do feel you get a much better bicycling experience all around by buying a "real" bike from a "real" bike shop. Perhaps I'll go into the reasons why in another post, but for now, let's just accept that as my firmly held belief. Even so, depending on what you expect out of a bike, and how much riding you will do, and where bicycling fits into your life, the -Mart bike may be just fine for you. Just bear in mind that in most cases, barring a strong sentimental attachment, major repairs on such bikes quickly outpace the value of the bike and become unwise.

Another factor to take into account is the age of the bicycle and where it fits into the evolution of the bicycle. That may sound pretentious, but bicycle design does evolve and change over the years. Twenty-seven years ago, when I bought my Trek 414, such things as indexed shifting, integrated shift/brake levers (or "brifters" as some call them), carbon fiber frames and components, high quality/high performance wired on tires, and many other things were either nonexistent or considered highly exotic and rare. So when you look at repairing an older bike, you need to consider whether or not you wish you had the newer technology, and whether it is practical or even possible to upgrade to the newer gear on your current bike. Some upgrades are easy, and some even make a lot of sense depending on the nature of the repairs your bike needs.

For example, if you have been hankering for indexed ("click") shifting on your old early 80s mountain bike, and it needs a new chain and sprockets already anyway, and compatible modern parts are available, it may be a simple matter to swap out your shift levers for indexing ones while you're at it. On the other hand, you may find that such an upgrade becomes prohibitively expensive if your bike is really old or has unusual components. In such cases, think about how badly you want to move to newer technology, and whether or not it's time to just start over with a new bike. And listen to your mechanic, assuming you have one you feel you can trust. They will know what is compatible with what, and how big a job it would be to move you into the early 21st century.

So, to wrap up, when your bike has reached the point where it needs major repairs, you need to think about the monetary and sentimental value of the bike, and determine whether it makes sense TO YOU to get the work done. It's your bike, and only you can decide that. As your mechanic, I will try to point out the pros and cons, and if I really think you are headed the wrong direction, I'll try to find a way to let you know, kindly. Honestly, it's pretty easy... most folks who bring in a really rough bike know it's probably in bad shape, and know how attached they are to it, and I can usually figure that out from them pretty quickly.

Mother's Day, etc.

Yesterday, my family gathered to celebrate Mother's Day. One of my sisters (I have three, two of whom are local to me now, as is my mom) had a bunch of us over, and her husband made an amazing meal, as he always does. Like most of our family gatherings, it was very laid back and relaxed, and fun. Good food, and good company.

Now, not only was Sunday Mother's Day, but Saturday was my mom's birthday. Yes, she gets to celebrate two things at once typically. But this year, as she's reached her 80th birthday, we did something special. A couple of weekends ago, ALL of her kids and grandkids (one of whom is about to have the first great-grandkid) gathered with her at a nice hotel in Baltimore's Fells Point area, and had a great dinner in a nice little restaurant. Afterwards, we went for a walk around the neighborhood, and then just hung out and talked a while. It was nice... having the whole gang together in one place. Doesn't happen very often.

But the greatest thing about it all is my mom. She's 80 years old and sharp as a tack. And still getting around under her own steam... heck, sometimes I'm not sure I can keep up with her! And on top of it all, she volunteers for an organization that provides transportation and other small services for folks who can't get around themselves. Pretty amazing lady she is.

And finally, yesterday was also about saying goodbye to my nephew Mike, who is off to boot camp with the Coast Guard. He's a great guy, with a wicked sense of humor... which he realizes it's best to keep to himself for the next couple of months! We had great fun kidding him about the various rules and regulations he is faced with now, but we also all wished him well on this. I'm sure parts of it will be very trying, but I'm also sure he's going to do great.

And today is a beautiful spring day... clear skies this morning, crisp air, and warming to the low 70s. Woo hoo!

Farmcat!

Well, not really. But ever since we brought home a couple of bales of straw for the garden, young Tybalt has spent a lot of time around it... perching on it to get a better view, lurking behind it to get the drop on some bird, or just sprawled on it or next to it relaxing. Looks pretty tough there lolling among the dandelions, huh?

Critters

I ride to and from work on a rail-trail... one of those multi-use paths that use a former railroad right of way. It makes for a nice ride, in part because of the flora and fauna along the trail, especially at this time of year.

One treat this year has been the discovery of a fox den not far from the trail. I was tipped off to it by another rider who comes into our shop a lot, and I now have been lucky enough to see both mama fox and her three kits on several occasions.

Yesterday was the best so far though. I was riding home around dusk, nearing the area where the den is, when I suddenly realized all three kits were frolicking right beside the trail, and in fact stepped onto the pavement at one point. I stopped and watched for a minute or two, and it was delightful. Clearly they were playing... chasing each other and wrestling and jumping on one another. At one point, a pair of runners passed within 5 feet of them, totally oblivious to the kits! I guess they were too wrapped up in their training or whatever. I don't understand that... I always pay attention to my environment, and notice the little things, even when riding along at a good clip. Guess I'm just not totally focused on the "fitness" side of things.

Anyway, the kits eventually retreated back to the relative safety of the brush, but were still visible from the trail as I rode off. I was both grateful for the chance to see them, and concerned at their lack of fear of humans. That usually doesn't turn out well for animals. And I have to wonder where mama fox was all that time. Seems odd that she wouldn't have kept them out of sight with so many people still around. I think about a half dozen folks passed by in the short time I was there. I hope those little guys do okay.

On another note, my cat Tybalt had his annual checkup and vaccinations today. As usual he cried all the way to and from the vet, and the whole time he was in the waiting room. He just doesn't see much of other people or places, so it kind of freaks him out. The vet was very gentle and patient with him though, so it went well. And he's got a clean bill of health! Woo hoo!