Proving that every bike nerd is his or her own unique and precious snowflake, here's something from the Bicycle Museum of America that caused me to geek out mightily, yet most visitors probably never gave it a second look:
If you've already zoomed in on the signage, you're probably asking, "What's so special about a 1913 Shawmut Racing Safety in Crate from Bigelow & Douse Co. in Boston, MA?" Or maybe you've looked at the top of the crate and wondered if Willard C. Spencer of (some illegible town in New Hampshire) is a distant relative of mine.
It's the "In Crate" part. Having unboxed and assembled literally (and I literally mean literally) hundreds of bikes in my brief career as a bike mechanic, I was nerdily fascinated by this example of how bikes were packed for shipping over a century ago. Surprisingly, this early 20th century box job bears some striking resemblances to its late 20th century counterpart. (Having been out of the business for a while, I don't know if the 21st century has brought about some new jetpack-fueled Jetsonian miracle of modern bicycle packaging technology, but I kinda doubt it.)
Your late 20th century bike arrives in a corrugated cardboard box about the same size and shape as this 1913 wooden crate, though it will have its front wheel removed and tucked alongside to reduce the length of the box slightly (I guess UPS drivers weren't so picky in 1913). Its handlebars will be zip-tied to the frame, zip-ties being the Y2K equivalent of the twine holding the 1913 bike's bars (unless you're Grant Petersen, in which case twine is the Y2K equivalent of twine). And finally, all the small, loose parts will be packaged in a separate, smaller cardboard box inside the larger box, just like the wooden cubby in the upper left of the 1913 crate containing what appears to be the saddle, a bell, and a little adjustable wrench (IKEA's got nothing on Bigelow & Douse). In both cases, your bike travels mostly assembled, just waiting for some shop mechanic to set it free via crowbar or boxcutter, finish the assembly, and make the final adjustments. After that, it's New Bike Day for Willard C. Spencer of (unintelligble) New Hampshire!
It does appear that we've become better about protecting paint in the last 100 years, since today's bikes travel with all their tubes swaddled in foam, cardboard, or both. 1913 bikes also didn't have delicate, dangly rear derailleurs to protect in transit. Still, having traveled by plane with a valuable bike in a cardboard box, I'd feel much safer trusting my precious to a crate from 1913... if only to see the TSA guys scratch their heads and go searching for a crowbar.
Dear Spouse and I recently spent a long weekend in Columbus, Ohio. Yes, you heard me correctly: I vacationed in Columbus Frickin' Ohio. The rumors you've heard about the jet-setting, party-never-stops lifestyle of the amateur blogger are true.
During our journey, we took a short side trip out to New Bremen, Ohio, home of the Bicycle Museum of America. That website may be a trip back in time in an entirely unintended way (I kid! I kid!), but the museum? Wow. I can almost guarantee that even the most jaded bike nerd will see at least one bike in the collection they've only seen in a book, and maybe one more they didn't even know existed.
I intend to share and possibly pontificate upon all sorts of lousy photos I took in the museum, but for now, here's one from Dear Spouse, capturing me achieving a Major Life Goal:
That, dear friends (like I have to tell you) is Pee Wee Herman's bike from the greatest cycling film ever committed to celluloid, Pee Wee's Big Adventure. Think I'm wrong? In the words of Mr. Herman himself, "I know you are, but what am I?"
I tried to buy the bike, but it's not for sale, Francis.
My long-ago promised long-term test of lots of light-reflecting, leg-strapping technology has at long last arrived! (See, you thought there wasn't even a blog here any more, didn't you?)
In a nutshell (so you can stop reading and go back to cat videos): I am duly impressed by this Leg Shield stuff, especially their ankle and wrist bands. Sure, it's hard to get super excited about reflective ankle bands, but if you're going to make (or buy) a reflective ankle band, why make (or buy) a crappy one? The price difference between "lousy" and "really well done" is about the price of a fancy coffee, and it's safety we're talking about here (though one could argue that not giving me coffee is also a safety hazard).
Nothing illustrates that "safety" point better than this photo I just snapped in our top-secret testing laboratory here at The Cycle World Headquarters:
In the interest of science, I grabbed all the reflective bands I could find in the garage (er, laboratory), wrapped them around the basket of my commuter mule, turned on the flash on my phone camera, and snapped away. The two visual representations of the word "meh" on your right are the sort of thing you can find at just about any sporting goods store (I think the brand is Nathan), while that retina-searing, sci-fi-movie special effect on your left is a Leg Shield ankle band. The Leg Shield folks confirmed that their reflective material is not made by 3M (for now), but jeez, looking at these results, who cares? Not I. The thing is so bright, it even summoned the ghost of another reflective band which you can see on the floor next to my front tire.
So let's talk about the less-photogenic Leg Shield, which is the product I was really interested in at the start of this test. Sure, I have a chain guard on the mule photographed above, but my go-slightly-faster bike sports no such built-in pants protecting technology, and I often ride said go-slightly-faster bike in human clothes on my morning commute. As such, I need something to keep chain grunge off my pants, it needs to be easy to take on and off, and it shouldn't make my calf gross and sweaty during my commute.
I'm happy to report that after several months of testing, the Leg Shield hit 2.5 out of 3 of those requirements. It keeps crap off my pants, both of the chain variety and the "puddle scum that got around my front fender" variety. It's easy to put on and take off. And for my short, relatively low-exertion commute, it doesn't trigger my Sweaty Calf Syndrome. However, in the interest of science (yet again), I wore the Leg Shield over jeans a couple of times this summer and took my "long way home" (about 10 miles) in legendary Iowa humidity as a "worst case scenario" simulation of what someone with a longer commute might encounter. In those admittedly sub-optimal conditions, the sweat was pretty prodigious (even for me), leading to one obviously wet and wrinkly pant leg when I took the shield off, even after stopping to loosen it up for improved airflow.
In response to my initial concerns (since confirmed) about Sweaty Calf Syndrome, the good folks at Leg Shield had this to say: "We tested various materials (perforated neoprene, felt, spandex) but
they weren't much cooler... if we make the shield smaller it's not as effective. Neoprene is durable,
flexible, and not as flimsy, so it's easy to put on." Fair enough. So my recommendation would be, in cooler temps or areas of the world with less humidity, go with a Leg Shield. When the temperature (or your commute distance) climbs, use the
ankle band instead. It's wide enough and grippy enough to keep your pant
leg off the chain but doesn't have enough surface area
to fire up the sweat glands... and you get more reflectivity to boot.
With all that said, it's now shifting to winter here in Iowa, and I'll be switching almost exclusively to the chainguarded klunker for my commute needs, so I won't have much use for leg shielding for a while... which is why I'm going to share my test samples with a Mystery Guest Reviewer (stay tuned!) to get even more opinionated blather. I'm wrapping a couple straps around strategic parts of the klunk-muter, though -- no way I'm letting something that bright go to waste during the darkest months of the year.
I said it before, but it bears repeating: I was not bribed, coerced, or otherwise
unduly influenced to review this stuff favorably, though the Leg Shield folks did send me free review samples. I am susceptible to schwag but tried not to let that influence my opinions.
