Fahrradsozialismus

I don’t know whether it’s unhealthy to feel empathy for certain things other people discard due to neglect or upgrade, but it’s certainly a state I find myself in frequent enough to be self-aware of such sentiments, especially when it comes to bikes, as irrational as it maybe.

The Gentleman I purchased this off got it second-hand in Canada back in the 80s, and having just retired this year, treated himself to a brand new Dahon, which admitted was very nice, though I fail to see how it could displace rather than supplement his existing bike, or perhaps such anthropomorphic attachments to inanimate objects only a few.

Thanks to Google, it is almost certain that the Bike is a Crescent Mini circa 1965 made by Velocipedaktiebolaget Lindblad, though it is unknown whether the date is for that particular bike or the date range for this particular model.

The original paint was in rather appalling condition, so I repainted the entire frame, again rather amateurishly, especially since I failed to detach one side of the bottom bracket, thus unable to remove the single piece crankset. I also replaced the handlebars & saddles to my liking. There’s of course the standard mudguard & rear rack, though the original chainguard was no longer present when I got it.

I’m generally not too fond of smaller wheel bikes simply because of they handle no way near as well as full-size bikes, as well as requiring a higher cadence for the same speed. However that’s not what they are designed for, apart from portability, I think many of them are simply rather cute, including of mine - and yes, I am a Tintin fan ever since I was wee lad in China, and have geekishly named all my bikes after the books (good thing there were many colours to choose from!). Despite the blatant racial & cultural stereotyping especially in the earlier ones (though these are of particular interest again but different reasons), they still contain some of the most likable characters in fiction, including one of the best dogs anyone can hope for. But I digress, as tradition demands.

There are a few noteworthy features that are not too common on modern bikes readily available in Australia today. The most curious for those with mechanical predilections (which I unfortunately lack the skill & know-how to appreciate fully) is perhaps the rear hub, it being the Sachs Torpedo Duomatic, two speed with integrated back pedal braking. The gear change is also achieved by back-pedalling, which takes a little getting used to. There’s some further information including a diagram on the hub here.

I am not sure exactly what gear inches it gives combined with the original chainring, but have found it a good combination for the terrains of Canberra, which can be quite sinuous in places. For reference, I use 39×17 & 53×17 most often on my 700c road bikes.

The down/top tube can be detached from the seat tube allowing easier storage & transport. Not strictly speaking a folder in the modern sense, since it’s actually in 2 parts, but it also means the mechanism is more simple & arguably more structurally stable, which is not really too much of an issue since the frame is steel & certainly feels it. Ironically this is almost as heavy as my main commuter even though it is far smaller.

A feature which will not be surprising in the least to most European or Asian cyclists, but fairly uncommon in Australia, is the built-in rear spoke lock. In places like China where such locks are standard on most commuter bikes, bikes are very rarely locked to bike racks, lampposts or the occasional tree, nor indeed would there space to do so given the numbers. Such locks are great for preventing people riding you bike away, though in a culture where such locks are unfamiliar to most, including the thief, one has to wonder how likely it is to return and find a mass of broken spokes.

It’s a great little bike for the shorter leisurely trips around the town, as I have it setup to a very up-right riding position. I also have a pair of panniers which can be fitted for extra luggage space.