Binshou -- bike number four

When I tell the story of my fourth bike, it sounds like the start of a joke:

This man is wheeling a bicycle down the sidewalk in Davis...

Well, he was. And it was a sweet-looking Nishiki mixte. It was dirty and cobwebbed, but it looked great. I've been into mixtes since my Mercier purchase in July and I was eager for a closer look. As the man was preparing to lift the bike into the bed of his pickup, I asked for a quick peek first.

Sure, he said. Then, pointing to the bike shop behind us, he muttered that the "guy in there wouldn't buy it back" from him. Apparently, the bike was his wife's, hadn't been ridden in a couple of decades and he had tried to return it to the shop where he bought it... thirty years earlier.

His real interest lay in clearing garage space, not in profit, he said. Testing this, I offered a pittance to relieve him of the need to put the bike back in his truck. He couldn't accept quickly enough.

That evening, I cleaned the bike, thinking it was the first of many steps needed to make it ready to ride. In fact, that -- plus air in the like-new tires -- was pretty much it. The Suntour shifters and derailleurs shift beautifully, and the bike looks and rides as though it were brand new.

It's a tad small for me, but it is so quick and so nimble that it's staying, at least for now. Although I'm not a fan of drop bars, riding this bike has enlightened me to the advantages of a more aggressive riding position. The one tiny hill on my usual ride is no longer an issue of any kind, whereas it still can be a challenge on an upright bike. Also, it's just plain fast. Hence the name. "Binshou," or "nimble."

First rainy commute

Throughout the months since I rediscovered how fun it is to ride a bike, I've wondered whether my new interest would survive the summer. Riding the 5.5 miles to work and back each day was a breeze in the summer, but would I do it in the cold and rain of winter?

This week presented my first chance to see how fair-weather-dependent my new hobby would be. Our region was swept by wild storms on Tuesday, with four inches of rain and winds gusting up to 55 mph. I rode around the block a few times (on Takumashi), mostly for the right to say I cycled even on this wild day.

Wednesday, though, presented a more realistic test. Rain kept falling, but the winds had turned to breezes. I outfitted in new rain pants and gloves, donned a rain jacket from my Pacific Bell days and set off to work. The rain was almost not an issue. To be fair, it was far from cold, so this wasn't a full-on test of winter riding. Once I became accustomed to rain hitting my face, the day was really very pleasant.

I rode more slowly than usual, aware that braking would be more difficult. Also, there was storm debris on every block and throughout the trail. Once, in an Old Sac alley, leaves obscured a stretch of uneven pavement and I came very close to a spill. A close call, but no harm, no fall.

In the 11-mile round trip, I saw no more than three other cyclists. Perhaps because of this shortage of people -- or maybe due to the newly formed ponds in the river basin -- birds of all kinds were in abundance... a flock of fat turkeys. a pair of egrets, a gangly blue heron.

Tomorrow's forecast calls for rain again. We'll see if it's fun the second time around.

Takumashi -- Sturdy, reliable city bike

On a visit to the "Bike Man" in Carmichael, I found this Nishiki Citisport waiting in the driveway. The price was more than fair, and it became the third bike in the stable. Here's Takumashi ("Sturdy") fitted with the Basil Kavan II canvas-and-leather panniers.

Since this photo was taken, I replaced the riser bars with North Roads from Pyramid and made my own grips and chain stay guard from hemp twine and shellac... More on those additions later.

Here's Takumashi from the rear, still sporting the Basil Kavan IIs.


The Citisport offers a very stable feeling ride. He's a bit heavier than the other bikes and so not as quick. Also, the 26-inch wheels and quasi-MTB tires make for a bit more road gripping and less agility. All in all, though, he's more than quick enough for commuting or utility riding.

Takumashi was the bike I took to Peak Adventures' bicycle maintenance class, so he got a thorough tune-up in the process. Now the only drawbacks to a perfect ride are the squeaky mattress-style saddle and a bit of a hum from the full fenders.

Finally, I should mention that this was the bike I picked for today's ride in steady rain and winds that gusted up to 50 mph. That little bit of extra weight came in very handy, as Takumashi handled the wet streets, puddles and slick leaves with ease.

The Mercier Mixte... aka Blaise

As I weighed the options and expenses for achieving an upright ride on my Specialized, it occurred to me I was standing next to a bike that already had the features I was considering. This French-made 70s Mercier had been brought to my LBS, repaired and never claimed by its owner. The shop was selling it for the cost of the parts they had added (fork, brake pads, adjustable stem).

A few minutes later, I was pedaling around CSUS -- upright and smiling. Only after I brought Blaise home did I learn more about Mercier's place in French cycling history and come to appreciate the beauty of the mixte frame.

Here's a shot from the drive side.

To see some really gorgeous mixtes, visit http://themixtegallery.wordpress.com/

Making my Specialized more Belgian

Soon after our return from Europe, I visited local bike shops and tried to explain what was different about my Belgian ride. For the most part, I got polite nods and confused looks.

At Peak Adventures (on the CSUS campus), I got more... a clear understanding of the European city bike design, a no-jargon explanation of why my vacation ride was so comfortable and interested, engaged expertise.

Best of all, head mechanic Tyler convinced me the foundation of the European bike I coveted was already in my garage. My Specialized Crossroads, bought in 1995 (or so) was a perfectly suitable foundation on which to build.

I added a rack and SKS fenders. I raised the handlebar, bringing my riding position much closer to upright. Thanks to a Shimano recall of my cranks, I added new front and rear derailleurs, cranks, bottom bracket and chainrings (paying only for the rear derailleur).

And now, each day's commute brings back a memory of the misty morning ride from Bruges to Damme. I've added three more bikes to my stable since then, but Original Bike has the distinction of being the only one I feel I built.

Bike auction at UC Davis

The girls and I spent a fun couple of hours at the bike auction at UC Davis this morning/afternoon. A barn burner of a soccer game kept us from getting there early to view the bikes, but it was fun nonetheless to watch the parade of bikes move to the auction stage and eventually be wheeled away by a smiling customer.

They sold something like 400 bikes, and it was a fascinating chance to see where buyer interest lay. Cruisers were a hot product, with prices zooming almost instantly to $100 or $200. Also hot were lugged-frame road bikes with bidders apparently interested in converting them to fixies.

The only better-than-ebay bargains I saw were in the form of mountain bikes and store bikes. Neither is where my interest lies, but I did pick up a very solid Magna mountain bike for our little cyclist. It's pink with 24-inch wheels -- perfect for her right now and cheap enough that we'll shed no tears when she outgrows it. Monday, we go in search of a seat post, saddle and new rear shifter.

The one that started it all

When I returned from Europe in July, I was determined to reproduce the biking experience I shared with my lovely girls in Belgium. We rode comfortable, upright hybrid-style bikes that shifted seamlessly and made riding a pleasure.

In many ways, this blog is about what happened when I tried to buy the same kind of bicycle here.

More about that later, but here's the bike that started the riding, collecting, accessorizing and obsessing.