The bicycle hook is a common device seen in bike shops everywhere around the world probably. Especially in the repair area one can find a line of bikes hanging from a wall or ceiling, this is the holding cell for repairs yet to be started and repairs waiting to be picked up. At the shop I’m at, somehow we’ve got several sections of hooks devoted to new bicycle back-stock in addition to repair hooks; I call that the fleet (but that’s a story for another time though). One valuable thing I learned from UBI was numbering the hooks, this is for easy organization of finding a repair bike quickly. (This post isn’t exactly about that though either).

It’s the repair hooks that has the most action though, and therefore, different people remove and replace bikes from the hooks. The replacing, or act of hanging the bike has always been a point of contemplation for some reason. For visual purposes: this is a line of hooks, each of which supplies a location to store a bike, vertically suspended from the wall, or ceiling, by one of the bicycle’s two wheels. The contemplative questions: Which wheel do you typically choose to hang the bike from? What is natural? What makes more sense?

I’m no fanatic about this, but yes, I do have an opinion on this subject: the rear wheel. Hanging a bike—just about any bike—by the rear wheel makes most sense to me, it provides ease of hanging and removal, and if done properly and consistently, provides uniformity to the storage area. I’ll break this down: the rear wheel’s axle in many bikes sits in dropouts (horizontal or vertical), hanging a bike whose quick release might be open or damaged by the rear wheel will not easily result in a fall—the weight of the bike will rest on the axle in the dropout, or the chain in certain situations. Hanging by the rear wheel in this case provides a couple stages of redundancy against a falling bike. 

The action of lifting and rotating a bike to hang by the rear wheel is easier as well, once the bike is lifted off the ground with the rear wheel higher than the front, the handlebars and front wheel point automatically straight down. Whereas, hoisting by the front wheel, one has to manage a heavier weight swinging from the handlebars. Every time I try it this way I feel like I’m wrestling with the bike; I say, let the weight of the bike work for you, not against. 

I’m a fan of consistency, if all the bikes in a line are hanging the same way, it looks cleaner and more organized. When done otherwise, I see more bikes hanging at cock-eyed angles; I see this furthermore, when there are two bikes hanging by their front wheels next to each other.

All this reminds me of the conversation I had with a co-worker one day on this subject. At the time I was debating the similarity of the Heisenberg uncertainty principle to the question of randomness of incidentally selecting the section of rim with the valve when hanging a bike. I’m still uncertain how applicable quantum physics is to hooking the rim at the valve, not to mention introducing spoke reflectors to the equation. Oh well, such is life in a bike shop.

We get a lot of people coming in the shop looking for parts, help, or assembly with an after-market motor for their bike. My opinion, just pedal; if you want to go faster get a moped/motorcycle/car. The multitude of people asking for parts for their mini-bike are wholly misguided I think. A few weeks ago we had some old dude asking our opinion on his idea of hammering (or cutting!) a flat spot in his down tube in order to fit some type of motor in his frame. I’m not a fan of this kind of silliness at all. 

But here is something that just crossed my desk that might be equally silly, but admittedly, somewhat appreciated in its irony. A motor—of sorts—for your bicycle by Vert Designs. Basically just a laser-cut steel profile image of a motor, mounting to what looks like the bottle cage bosses of your bike. The irony being that a cyclist gets around town speedily enough without a engine. Perhaps this is just design for design’s sake, nothing actually meant for production or “use,” i.e. this bike engine is just a fun joke. 

(Image courtesy of Vert Design)

From their website:

Can’t afford that custom Ducati they are selling at ‘Deus ex machina’? Strap one of these on and you will get better range per tank and just as many girls (possibly). Laser cut from 1.2 mm stainless steel the engine mountings fit a range of frame sizes and will get you a better time through the city than most of the heavier, noisier models on the market.

As far as promoting bicycles, I don’t think the image of a motor is necessary. Simply getting out and riding a bike is promotion enough in my mind; focus attention on making cycling for transportation easier. Marketing some accessory under the guise of “bicycle promotion” seems a little feeble and perhaps just an attempt to profit from the sudden popularity of bicycles. I see a lot of products available nowadays that seem to be more than just jumping on the bandwagon; unless the laser-cut engine idea is just for fun, I fear it too may be making that jump as well.

From a design standpoint it looks well made, except for a couple points. The “choke lever” or “exhaust” close to the seat tube look like a pant-leg disaster waiting to happen. Not something I’d like to get my cuff caught on while riding my fixed gear through an intersection. And as is sometimes their major focus, from a fashion standpoint, I can’t really see the fixie scene adopting it too readily. 

On any other type of bike, mounting such an aesthetic accessory wouldn’t seem practical either really. Many people would want their water bottle cages mounted. And forget about shouldering your bike, lifting it anywhere would seem inhibited with such a “motor” installed.

Eh, what can I say, I’m a bit more of a function over form kind of guy.

I just gave a 1971 Raleigh Sports to my sister for her birthday. It’s an old 3-speed town bike. I think it’s gorgeous and it has changed my appreciation for relaxed riding bikes. 

When I first started working at the shop it was hanging in the basement, totally neglected: rusty and gummy. I saw potential in it. It reminded me of the old Raleigh my boss in Seattle had, I forget what model it was, just that it was red. I rode that bike once and enjoyed it’s simplicity and old-world feeling. Seeing the Sports in the basement showed me the potential to ride that way again; with little hesitation I bought it for thirty bucks.

Whatever opportunity I could get this winter past I tinkered with it and refurbished it. I re-laced the rear wheel, polished the hub and steel wheels, overhauled the bearings, set new cotters, and ran new cables. I got rid of and covered all of the rust spots on the frame with touch-up paint. (Like the guy I work with said one day, rust on a bike is like herpes, it never really goes away—charming, huh?) The bike looks sharp. The only thing I never got around to doing was re-upholstering the saddle. It was an old cheap Brooks, fake leather on plastic with nice springs on double rails; I might break down and get a softened up B66 if I can source one.

My sister came to town this weekend and I sent her off with a “new” bike. She loves it, I’m happy to provide. She plans on riding it around Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, it’s a perfect town bike for that.

I got to ride it once and loved it myself, it was smooth and comfortable, shifted a tad rough, but braked spot on (new pads). It was faster and lighter than I expected and handled surprisingly well on sharp turns. What I loved most about the ride though was looking down and seeing that bright shiny rim reflecting it’s spokes and the trees and sky above. I’ve never really ridden a bike with steel rims like this before, their wide and flat profile of them is really awesome I think.

I took a few photos of the “process” that can be viewed here.

It’s funny, I’m not sure how many I don’t see riding by the shop, but sometimes I feel that no one can ride by on their bike without my being aware of it. You can’t escape the watchful eye of the bike mechanic; especially not on beautiful days like today. 

It’s that corner of the eye motion that causes me to whip my head up and look out the window. There’s something about the action of a cyclist that draws the eye and attention, something that’s different from the motion of a car or motorcycle. It’s the locomotion of the legs perhaps, or maybe the contrast of speed.

Whenever it happens though, I’m naturally curious to see who’s riding by the shop, what they’re riding, and maybe even how much repair their bike looks like it needs. Sometimes you’ll be so far away I am amazed I even noticed. Not too far away though for me to see you’re riding a little under-inflated, is that a dry chain I hear? (and, no, those new bars don’t look like they stretch you out too far.) 

How can you resist the urge, magnetism that pulls you into the doors of a bike shop? Do you at least glance at the shop, throw a wave in it’s direction, give a head nod? I can’t say I really blame you all for riding by. Most of this banter is just the envy of a bike mechanic that, ironically, doesn’t get to ride as much as he’d like.

I’m sure this isn’t a hundred percent unique to America, but I was thinking the other day how the American homo-sapiens has the added trait of motorized transportation built into the progression of their biology. Infancy leads into adolescence. Then comes puberty which almost reliably develops into a phase that includes the growth of an automobile in your life. This phase seems to last the rest of the human’s life. It appears to be a required component in the human’s life for acquiring necessary jobs that pay for food, shelter, and American survival in general. The necessity of an expensive looking car seems for many, a visual mating cue for members of the opposite sex. For some even mere travel in one’s local habitat makes use of this motorized component. Is the car a requirement for the American dream as well?

I don’t think so. I’ve banished the car pretty thoroughly from my life. At times, it has been a difficult decision to continue through, I’m lean like a cheetah nowadays. I’m not starving though. The reminder of the copious expenses and false freedoms a car would introduce into my life is enough to keep me from relenting and getting back behind the wheel. It’s a real shame that this “evolution” is foisted on and endorsed by so many Americans. It is such a disappointing “coming-of-age” moment. A disappointment that now you’re old enough to drive, you get saddled with the high-price of gas, unaffordable but required insurance, costly repairs, and the stress of traffic. I think a better coming-of-age moment would be to become old enough at some point and get free health care or something.

It’s always inspiring to hear of another sixteen year old kid resist this biological urge and decide not to start driving their first car. They seem to be few and far between however. Those that resist have hopefully already learned of the real freedoms and self-sufficiency of riding a bike.

Happy May Day. 

Image courtesy of stpeteforpeace.org