My first bicycle opened a new world to me, one where range was measured by will and pedal revolutions, not steps; the only objective was seeing how far out I could push my range. First, to the border of our community, then to the nearest gas station, and on it went. It was a big yellow contraption with 10 speeds – twelve if you count “crashed” and “out of control”, which were the two most commonly used of the lot.
I didn’t know I could customize it. I assumed all saddles were steel with a foam and plastic coating, just as I assumed all brakes were ornamental beyond producing a screech that served to deter dog attacks. When the seat became too low, I declared that the bike no longer fit; I had no idea I could raise the saddle.
That bike was a Sears Moonlight Special, and I am quite sure it was made of solid lead pipes and had steel wheels. The bars were possibly wrapped in asbestos. I don’t wish I still had it, but I wish I still had my second bike. She was a beauty; a Raleigh with a gorgeous Weinmann group and a stunning metallic paint of brown and black, a color combination that every tailor on Savile Row will tell you is the most beautiful. Fitting, then, that it was an English bike.
At first, all I wanted was to rid the bike of her unsightly brake cables that jutted from the brake levers in the traditional way. This was the late eighties, and all brake levers on modern bikes were “aero” (under the tape). So I bought some DiaCompe levers and set about changing them out. A friend at County Cycles in Saint Paul, Minnesota (famous for being the place where Johnny Cash met “Her“) convinced me to buy some Benotto bar tape, and I spent the next few days basking in the amazement of my ability to single-handedly alter the look of my machine so dramatically. (Indirectly, my test rides also taught me about tightening cable bolts enough.)
This experience opened me up to the notion that every bike can be adapted to serve our needs. Every bike has a soul, and every soul has a bike. It could be our #1, or it might just carry us to work, or down to the farmers market. But like a dog with it’s pack, it’s happy so long as it knows its purpose, its reason for being – and has the opportunity to fulfill that purpose. And whenever we help a bike find its purpose, it bonds to our soul and never leaves us.
You need vision to see a bike’s purpose, and Grant Peterson might be the greatest bicycle visionary; he lived La Vie Velominatus long before we put that term to paper. He sees opportunities in bicycles without judgement; it doesn’t have to be a racer, or a tourer, or a trail bike – it just has to ride well and be fun. He’s been an inspiration since I learned about Bridgestone bikes, and his vision continues with Rivendale Bicycle Works. When time came for him to design a hybrid bike, he chose mustache bars with race-inspired geometry in the belief that just because it’s hybrid doesn’t mean it shouldn’t ride well. I’m proud to walk in his footsteps.
The Nederaap CX-V may have served her run as my main CX/Graveur, but she lives on as the loyal steed carrying me to and from the grocery store, the markets, post office, pub, and any manner of fun and casual expeditions around town. I don’t kit up, I don’t pump up the tires (although I do thumb-check the pressure, I’m not a savage), I don’t plan the route. I just get on, and I ride. And she rides great, is fun, and gobbles up single track just the same as she does tarmac. It makes no difference to her, I just jump on and start pedaling like I did when I was a kid. That’s good old-fashioned fun.
Plus, now I can enter the Commuter Grand Prix.
[dmalbum path=”/velominati.com/content/Photo Galleries/frank@velominati.com/CX-Mustache/”/]
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
Dutch people use bikes based on this template for everyday errands:
http://farm2.staticflickr.com/1215/1334068197_1f3bac5b50_o.jpg
Pictured is an old Gazelle no. 1 from somewhere in the 50's. Most Dutch bikes are based on the template drawn by old Gazelle roadster bikes. Commuter Grand Prix is for people in a rush, and rushing means your planning was lacking, which is neither casually deliberate nor looking pro. Sitting on such a bike is something else. The 40+ pound bike on 40x635 tires absorb bumbs like an S-class while you sit upright, merely lifting your legs and letting them fall again on the large block pedals while you tootle along at 12mph, towering above the sweaty masses (on one of those bikes, your head is higher than when walking). You'll feel like a king among men. Also, the enclosed chain and fenders everywhere mean you won't get dirty and you won't have to clean your chain all the time.
Now we are talking. Less rules, more "get on your bike and pedal". I have apple of path bikes. An Electra single speed cruiser, complet with legally required bell and a handy basket! And an older MTB also with basket and bell. They get a bit of beach use too, thusly..........
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tHFD1g-if9w
Nice bike Frank. I like the bars and teh overall style of the bike.
Great article frank....for some bizarre reason this gave me flashbacks to this (I am not sure how "global" this series was). Maybe it is the orange flaming phoenix at 1:26 that reminds of the swoop of those bars!
@sthilzy
A-fucking-mazing! Love it.
I think @Cyclops might have topped himself
@Teocalli
Where did you get that pic of Giro's 2014 helmets?
@wiscot My LBS posted it after we did a Retro mtb ride a month or so back.
I run mustache bars on my 1984 Club Fuji, which serves as my around town bike, but that's because the top tube is too short for me and the extra reach the bars gives makes the bike actually rideable. The bike still has most of the original components on it including the non-aero brake levers which look pretty good the bars since the cable routing makes smooth arcs in front of the headtube. I'm not sure how I feel about them on a bike without a quill stem though.
@VeloVita
I would like to see pictures of this. Sounds interesting and gives me an idea for an old japanese steel bike I have in the garage.
@Chris
The riser stem might be a bit much.
@TommyTubolare
Says the guy who commutes to work on this.
I'm not off the path; if you read the article (which I'm increasingly convinced no one does), you'd see this was a COMMUTER.