Fahrradsozialismus

I rode an old clunker of a ladies’ bike for quite a while before building my current commuter, and I’m sure like many people, associate experiences one.. experiences in relation to doing particular things. Sentimentalities aside, I am rather fond of the step-through design in general, and still ride them for shorter commutes just for a bit of change or for fun.

Functionally, the step-through frame allows riders to mount more easily from the front of the bike. Though back in the days when it was introduced the more important aspect of such a design would arguably be that of etiquette & sense of decency. Much like the sidesaddle, these were designed so that ladies would not need spread their legs to mount, something deemed frightfully indecorous and improper for any respectable women to do, especially in public. Indeed it was noteworthy enough that Hardy uses this to introduce an distinguishing aspect of Bathsheba in Far from the Madding Crowd early on in the book, perhaps suggesting her spirit of independence.

Today, in a world where such manifestations of Victorian prejudice & puritanism are nothing but literary allusions or quaint nostalgia, social mores dictating what can and cannot be worn by the various genders (biological or otherwise) are scarce, though it is still more socially unacceptable for men to have the slightest sense of curiosity in anything remotely feminine for themselves, and often a source of ridicule, even if in jest. I could say that this is my personal pronouncement to declare war on the shackles of gender specificity, but in all truth I just think they are really neat. Interestingly enough, in traditionally more chauvinistic societies in Asia, China in particular, it is not uncommon to see men riding these types of bicycles.

I mentioned my particular fondness towards the design in regards to their inherent elegance here, but there are practical aspects which makes them more ideal as commuters than diamond frames for some.

They are excellent for those who are less flexible, and it allows you fix baskets or baby seats on the rear rack, something which hinders one’s ability greatly to mount on a diamond frame.

This particular frame I found lying abandoned on one of my bike routes, with a warped back wheel & rear derailleur, I waited a couple of days just to make sure it was truly abandoned, and nursed it back to health, just like a sick puppy, differing on some very minor issues of vitality & molecularity.

The paint job is rather pedestrian, in keeping with the standards on my other bikes, functional but rather crude – albeit only upon closer inspection. It has the special distinction of have a Tiagra crankset, which is higher on the marketing hierarchy than anything I have on my road bikes. It is the only bike I have that has a chain guard, indeed the only full size frame that even have mounts for a dedicated chain guard, though not a full chain case which I would prefer in terms of look.

There was no real reason for having drop bars on this bike, as I have no aspirations of going anything other than a saunter on it. I simply had a white saddle & bar tapes left over from another bike, and thought it went well with the red.

I have yet to test the seemingly purely decorative mudguards on these in the wet, but have very little faith in their abilities in preventing me from getting splashed. I am curious as to whether such mudguards are indeed designed to be petite simply because they might match better (not necessarily so imho) with a “female” bike.

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.

A long time ago in a place far, far away, not so much in absolute terms, relatively speaking, I was taught to love one’s country, one’s people & the Communist Party. Looking back, as surreal as it seems today (though perhaps most people feel that way about their childhoods), there is something to be said about having had some absolute ideals to look forward to – if it could be perpetuated. People deal with disillusionment differently. In addition to the inevitable bitter cynicism, I reconciled myself by embracing further the ideals regardless of the ironic reality under which they were propagated, along with the imageries associated with it.

Indeed the notion that morality exists only because of immorality, that the seemingly dichotomous values simply could not exist without one and other can perhaps be regarded as a limitation of language, but unfortunately it also means that it is something innate in human beings. Same reason why I adore so many things anachronistic perhaps, for the harsh realities represented is dampened by the passage of time, and it is easier to have fanciful notions about, no matter how erroneous, for it is all introspective. I suppose it is like religion in a way, only without the reassuring conviction of things will certainly get better, but what good is wool-gathering if one can’t fool oneself.

But this is supposed to be about my current commuter bike. One of the first I stripped & built up again from bits & pieces. There’s nothing even remotely prestigious about its pedigree, nor is it an exemplar of Chinese workmanship (sadly an oxymoron these days). but I still love it, that’s what silly sentimentalism is all about, right?

Started off as an old roadie I scored off eBay for $10, the frame is rather small even for my Lilliputian stature, making it a perfect conversion to an upright commuter, as the stand-over height is lower.

The paint job is nothing to write home about, I simply stripped the top coat and a few minor rust spots off with a hand sander, skipping random hard-to-get spots & whenever I got bored of sanding. First a spray of undercoat white, then topped off with glossy black. Of course it doesn’t compare with sandblasting & a proper paint job, but it doesn’t seem to chip easily and much easier to recoat if it does.

The components came off a few different bikes, the only new part being the bottom bracket, as you basically don’t have to worry about sealed bottom brackets once there are mounted. The great thing about bicycles is its serviceability. Even a mechanical retard like myself could get most parts onto a bike without too many expletives simply by looking at how it is mounted on existing bikes. Along with internet guides like Sheldon Brown & Parktools, most tuning can be performed at home if you have the right tools (easily the most expensive part of putting together a bike from old bits & pieces).

Being my main utility bike, its cargo capacity is of great concern, I have experimented with many configurations, and finally settled with the current setup. I dislike most modern panniers simply because of their deliberate “outdoor” appearance – though admitted there are some nice canvas & leather ones to be had albeit at a considerable price. I also wanted something that’s permanently attached to the bike so I don’t have to lug it around. The two baskets can handle most things I carry around on a daily basis, but in the rare occasions when more space is needed, I adapted one of those pensioner’s trolley bags by removing the wheels & clamping it to the rear rack.

And the pièce de résistance, “subtle” communist propaganda reading “East wind crushes West wind” as a head-badge. Politically incorrect in so many ways but nevertheless an attractive design radiating that conviction so common in socialist contrsuctivist art.

It still lacks the traditional full chain guard for that classic look, but they are hard to come by. Perhaps it is just petty attachment to classical aesthetics, but I can’t see why utility bikes such as these are no longer readily available in Australia. The decline of the bicycle as a mode of transportation here is certainly a factor, but there still are bikes called “commuters” or “hybrids” which seem to be the closest thing most bike shops would actually stock that fills this niche market - though these usually do not come with mudguards, racks or lights as standard, and since they are such “specialised” units, the final price bracket is closer to the low-end racing bikes than the K-mart specials. It is hard to imagine these would cost more to produce & import than the cheap mountain bikes which dominate the mass market, and are infinitely more suitable for urban riding, especailly as commuters.