Apres-Cycling: the Wine Bottle Massage

I know what you're thinking. "What, don't you own a rolling pin?" Well of course I do. But I use it for printmaking, so it lives in my studio. Luckily, what I lack in baking paraphernalia, I make up for in empty wine bottles. It's not that I drink a lot of wine, but that I tend to keep the empties for years - using them as flower vases and such. So when I came home holding my thighs today and my eye searched for something rolling pin-like, a tall bottle from a Spanish red fit the bill.

It's been a while since my legs felt this tight after a ride; I have low gears on my bikes and use them. But after two long, climbing-intensive rides a couple of days apart, a massage was in order.

There are different ways to go about doing this on your own, and here is what I do: I sit on the floor with my legs stretched out in front of me. The massage can be done on bare legs or over clothing, such as loose pajama bottoms (just not anything made of thick fabric, like jeans). I hold the bottle firmly, in one or both hands (there is no second handle as you would have on a rolling pin, but it still works okay), and move it in a gentle rolling motion up and down whatever muscles feel tight, in long strokes, at an even pressure. I use light to medium pressure, but others press harder - whatever feels right. Also, some prefer to sit on a chair, rather than stretched out on the floor. Try it both ways and see what feels better. If you need to do the back of your legs and don't have anyone to help, you can do it yourself standing up. A little awkward, but doable. Either way, this simple leg massage technique works surprisingly well on stiff, achy, or even just tired leg muscles in a fairly short amount of time. I have even seen cyclists do this during rides - using their mini bicycle pumps.

Of course if you have an unopened bottle of wine, you could combine the bottle massage with a glass of its contents for that extra bit of relaxation. A versatile product to keep on hand.

Modified VO Handlebar/ Camera Bag Setup, Sans Decaleur

My reason for wanting a handlebar bag on a roadbike has to do with photography. I would like to carry DSLR and film equipment on scenic rides in a way that allows me to pause briefly, extract and use the camera quickly, then just as quickly put it away and continue cycling. Having carried cameras in both saddle bags and handlebar bags in the past, I prefer the latter for this task - provided, of course, that the bag is stable and not detrimental to the bicycle's handling. With a handlebar bag, the contents are convenient to access on the bike without dismounting or stopping for too long. I was eager to set up this system on my Rawland Nordavinden, enabling it to function as a go-fast dirt roadbike and camera bike simultaneously.

Having already owned a bike with a functional handlebar bag setup, the concept is familiar to me. On my former Rivendell, I had an Ostrich bag, attached with its native straps to the front rack, and supported at the top with a spacer-mounted decaleur. What I liked about that system was its stability, and the aforementioned ease of camera access. What I disliked about it was the bulk. The bag was larger than necessary. The myriad of leather straps, metal buckles and other appendages added weight. The buckles clanked against other metal hardware on rough roads, no matter how out of the way I tried to position them. And having a decaleur permanently attached to the bike seemed superfluous. But all this aside, using the same setup on my current bike was not an option. My handlebars are too low for the Ostrich and many other production bags. And for reasons too complicated to go into here, using a decaleur, even if I wanted to, would be problematic. So I took this as an opportunity to experiment with a decaleur-free setup. Velo Orange sent me their Campagne handlebar bag to try out for this purpose. This bag is considerably smaller than the Ostrich and just a tad larger than the small Gilles Berthoud. The design is otherwise very similar to the Berthoud. The VO bag's fabric, stitching and leather are noticeably rougher, which is reflected in its price ($110, compared to $225 for the Berthoud). 

I made a number of modifications to the VO bag. First, I removed all of its native leather attachment straps with metal buckles, of which there were 4: two for the handlebars (you can see them in use here), one on the underside of the bag for attaching it to the center of the rack's platform, and one at the rear for hooking over the rack's "tombstone." Unlike on some other bags, the straps on the Campagne are not permanently attached, but threaded through, so removing them is easy. But I did cut off the D-ring attachments on the sides of the bag: They were stiff and sticking up in a way that interfered with the top flap sitting flush (can be seen here as well). I will extract the remaining bits of leather eventually, but for now it's just a rough cut. Removing the leather straps and buckles made the bag quite lightweight - though there are still metal buckles on the front and rear pockets that I would love to replace with elastic cords, for the sake of convenience.

Going for a decaleur-free setup, my main goal was to attach the bag to the front rack as firmly as possible. With the native attachment system, the single strap on the underside of the bag hooks around a central point on the rack. Attached in that manner, the bag will pivot and sway without a decaleur. So what I wanted to do instead was attach the bag to the outside edges of the rack at 4 widely spaced points. There are several ways to approach this, and others have done it successfully using a variety of methods including velcro straps and metal rivets. Here I tried strong nylon cords. My husband used his leather punch to make 4 holes in the bottom of the bag, through the fabric as well as the stiffener. The cords are routed through the rack's light mount/strut eyelets (see below) and tied together tightly inside the bag, as shown.

The design of the Nitto Mark's Rack and similar makes this style of attachment possible. Routed through the eyelets in the rear (and around them in the front), the cord cannot slide along the rack. Mark's rack is a popular front rack, and using nylon cords makes this a lightweight, inexpensive and very easy to DIY method with any small h-bar bag. I should point out that the cords must be of the non-stretchy variety and rated for outdoor use. And if your bag does not come with a floor stiffener, I recommend making one; it will be a much more solid system. 

To attach the bag to the rack at the rear, I used a thick zip-tie. With a small handlebar bag, many find that this type 5-point attachment system is sufficient to keep the bag steady without the additional support of a decaleur, particularly when the bag comes with side stiffeners. I too found it acceptably stable. 

But once I added zip ties to secure the top to the handlebars, the bag felt as if it were nailed in place. This can only be done on bags that sit level with the handlebars, as shown here. In the future I might substitute these zip ties with cords, or thin strips of velcro - the kind used to wrap around bundles.

While I seldom use the tops of the drop bars, it's nice to know that I can. The handlebar attachment doesn't interfere, because the edges of the bag flare out and leave room for my hands. And the bag is narrow enough, so that with my 42mm wide handlebars it does not get in the way of using the Campagnolo shifters. The only downside to this attachment, is that it leaves little space through which to fish the cord when closing the bag, but with my long skinny fingers it is doable. Also, with a threadless stem, this works really well when opening and closing the bag on the go.

While some might scoff at the use of zipties and cords in leu of buckles or velcro, this is the most stable, least wobbly handlebar bag system I have tried thus far. The bag does not budge. And another thing: everything is silent. No rubbing, clanking or jingling noises. 

I have a very handy camera insert from Zimbale from 3 years ago, which fits into most of the bike bags I own - including the VO Campagne. I think this insert might now be discontinued, but you can still buy it from a couple of sources (try here). Alternatively, you could look for an appropriately shaped insert at a camera store. There is also Emily of Dill Pickle Gear, who makes custom inserts. Lots of options.

Since the VO handlebar bag closes toward me, I usually position the insert to close away from me, for an extra bit of overlap protection in case of rain or dropping the bike.

Inside the insert are two removable dividers, which makes for up to 3 compartments. 

My DSLR with a zoom lens takes up most of the insert. 

But with a fixed 35mm or 50mm lens, it only takes up one compartment. I can then store other items in the spare compartments, or remove the second divider to place a medium format camera next to DSLR.

I am very pleased with this system so far. The bag is easy to use, the camera is easy to extract without making a production out of it, and the bag is completely stable despite the lack of decaleur. Cornering, climbing, descending, rough roads, trails - great. I have only ridden with this setup locally so far, but I look forward to taking it on daylong rides out of state.

As far as the Velo Orange Campagne bag: It's hard to make judgments about construction quality until you've used a bag for some time, and I have not done that yet. Early on (and before I made any of my modifications), I noticed that one of the side pockets tore - or perhaps was not fully sewn in to begin with - where the fabric meets the leather trim. This prompted me to check all the other seams on the bag. Pulling on them, I have not noticed any defects, looseness, weak threads or fraying. I will follow up if anything else comes undone in use. The bag comes in one colour only, black fabric with honey-brown leather trim. The black fabric has faded a bit in the sun after a few rides, which actually looks nice. Slate blue-greenish. Almost every time I have ridden with this bag, it has rained - but not heavy rain, so I cannot comment on the extent of its waterproofness. Regardless, when using canvas bags I always wrap equipment in a plastic bag when it rains, just in case.

Basically, the VO Campagne bag is a budget-friendly version of the classic French Sologne design. It is a functional bag with a roomy interior, a large front pocket, two small rear pockets and two flat side pockets. Stiffeners (which I like and kept inside the bag), straps, and D-rings are included. The bag is also modification-friendly. And if I were going to modify a production bag, it makes more sense to use something like this than a high-end bag twice the price. In my opinion, the VO Campagne is small enough to set up without a decaleur using a system similar to what I described here. But for the record, VO recommends a decaleur, so experiment at your own risk. You might also be interested to know that Velo Orange will soon be releasing a new, US-made handlebar bag, manufactured by a Maryland sewing shop. Although too tall for my bike, it looks like a great design and I look forward to seeing it in use by others.

Knitting Cyclists and Cycling Knitters

Last week I finally got back on the roadbike enough to start marking miles on my calendar again. Birds were singing, legs were spinning, flowers were pushing through. Then yesterday, this happened. It's still on the roads today. And it's supposed to happen again tomorrow. I lost my temper and did something I hadn't done in some time: I knitted.

I am not a committed knitter, but I learned as a child and do it whenever the fancy strikes. Or when I'm frustrated. The winter of 2010-11 was terrible for cycling, but great for knitting. I made myself an entire new wardrobe, made presents for friends, and did a brisk trade in hats for bicycle components. I must have knitted over 50 hats that winter; it was pretty bad. I can never just sit there and knit, so it's always done in conjunction with another activity, like reading, or talking, or watching a film. I did try knitting while cycling on a trainer a couple of times, but the rhythms are too different for it to work well.

It's been a surprise to discover how many women who ride bikes also knit. They seem like such different activities on the surface: one is domestic and stationary, the other exploratory, active and physically draining. Maybe it's the contrast that's attractive. Or the rhythm. Or the element of independence and self-sufficiency that both provide.

Apparently Lyli Herse was a prolific knitter. She would knit before bicycle races and brevets, because it kept her from getting nervous at the start. She made matching sweaters for her tandem partners and randonneuring teammates, their patterns distinctly recognisable in the historical photos.

Today, there is Emily O'Brien, who is not only a knitter, but also a spinner (can make her own yarn out of fleece). Bobbin and Sprocket knits and crochets. Knitting Lemonade knits and embroiders. There is Roseread, who knits lovely socks. The writer Sally Hinchcliffe a bicyclist and knitter. There is also The Knitting Cyclist. And The Knit Cycle. And Knitting by Bicycle. And more! Some are predominantly cyclists who are also attracted to knitting. Others are predominantly knitters who also ride bikes. Either way, it's an interesting convergence of interests: Knit your own wheeling costume (or a handlebar flower?). Get on a bike. And ride where you like ...once the snow melts a bit.

Festive Fun with Flats

One of my plans for the holidays had been to get in some practice changing tires. Problem is, I very rarely get flats. And let's face it: Taking a tire on and off for no reason just isn't the same as the real deal. So naturally I was delighted when, on my way home last night, my front tire went flat for real. It was a dark and stormy night, with heavy traffic and freezing rain, affording the perfect opportunity to practice road-side repairs. Alas, it happened just a block from my house. Weak of character, I opted for the comforts of home. 

"Darling, guess what?" I shouted as I rolled the bike into our living-room. "I have a flat tire!"

"Oh my!" said my husband. "And it's a 650B with fenders no less. Are you going to fix it yourself?"

"Of course! This is the moment I've been waiting for."

Nodding eagerly, he opened a bottle of wine and made himself comfortable on our finest kitchen chair, in anticipation of the evening's entertainment.

Now I know you're wondering what wine goes best with this sort of thing. This is really a matter of personal taste. But generally speaking, if the tires are 650B I recommend red. It just so happened that we picked up a lovely Truro Zinfandel during our recent stay on Cape Cod. Not the pink one in the bottle shaped like a lighthouse, but the darker one in a regular bottle. Its smooth deliciousness makes the already relaxing process of fixing flats even sweeter. 

Aside from the wine and a keen spectator prepared to critique your every movement, in a tire-changing situation it might also be helpful to have a floor pump and a spare inner tube handy, as well as some tools. If you have a fun bike with a bolt-on front wheel like I do, you will need something to unbolt it. A tire lever may also be useful. 

But most importantly, if your bike has fenders, you will need a couch. After removing a wheel, you should not stand the bike on the floor, as this may bend the fender. And if you think bikes enjoy being hoisted up on a workstand, you are mistaken. Most bikes are afraid of heights, and getting them up there for reasons as small as fixing a flat is downright insensitive. Laying your bicycle down on the sofa will make it much more comfortable. It will also delight your spouse by showing them what a free-spirited, outside the box thinker you are.  

Finally, you may want to have a copy of an appropriately inspirational poster or publication in sight as you work. This will remind you of why these bicycles are so darn charming, as you gingerly handle the delicate aluminum fenders and deflate your 650Bx42mm tire in order to fit it through the centerpull brake caliper. 

Of course the most fascinating part of flat repair is finding its cause. Having never gotten a flat with Grand Bois Hetres previously, I was especially interested. Turned out the cause was a failed inner tube. This one had split right at the seam. It happens, even with the nicest tubes.

"It happens just often enough to remind us that we are never fully in control of our destinies," I sighed wistfully as I tested the front brake after re-connecting it. 

My husband nodded, moving the wine away from me gently. "Well, looks like you did it."

"And it only took me a half hour this time!"

"Oh, hardly that!"

And isn't that what working on our bikes is all about? Struggling for self-reliance in a world of chaos and uncertainty. Using it as metaphor for life. Entertaining our loved ones. Look out world, soon I'll be able to fix a flat in 20 minutes!

The Rewards of a Closer Look

There are bicycles that strike you as unique from the first glance, and then there are those that sneak up on you. When Ed showed me the rando bike he'd put together from a refurbished Miyata frameset, it seemed like a nice enough classic build. Fenders, racks, leather, twine. But on closer inspection, all sorts of curious features emerged.

First I noticed the unusual front rack mount. A small DIY bracket at the front curled under and bolted onto the fender. 

Initially I assumed this was to add extra stability to the rack. But then I realised the real function of this bracket - in addition to another one extending from the fork crown - was to hold up the fender. Or, more accurately, the front part of the fender. 

I had seen split fenders before, but what struck me about these was how subtle they were, how utterly integrated into the overall design of the bike. The split was something I noticed only after my eye led me to it as it moved from one end of the rack to the other. 

The tires are 700Cx28mm Gran Compe ENE Ciclo (brown, with tan sidewalls) and Ed was determined to make them fit along with the fenders. The split accomplishes this despite the lack of sufficient clearances under the brake bridge and fork crown. 

Both the front and rear racks were recycled from older bikes, and I noticed that the rear one was stamped "Jim Blackburn." This prompted me to look into the history of Blackburn Racks, and indeed they were once called by the name of the founder. The vintage racks - now quite sought after - used a single bracket design to connect to the brake bridge, whereas the Blackburns in current production use a two bracket design to connect to seat stay braze-ons. I also found an interesting article describing Jim Blackburn's contributions to research in weight distribution for loaded touring.

The components seemed like a random mix, until Ed explained that he was going for a Suntour-inspired build: mostly vintage Japanese (but no Shimano), with some modern VO and Dia Compe sprinkled in. While such a thing would never have occurred to me, gathering components that made sense within this paradigm had been an important part of putting the bike together, a game he'd enjoyed playing.

The more we talked about the bike, the more of these things I discovered. Subtle details, hidden meanings. What looked like "just" a nice bicycle at first glance became fascinatingly personal. And that's the thing about bikes. We don't really know what they mean, or represent to the owner. We don't know what the story behind each one is, until we ask. Maybe that's why I still can't seem to walk past a bicycle without a closer look, or at least a second glance. 

Frameset or Complete Bike?

In the comments of the previous post, a reader pointed out that the comparatively low MSRP of the frameset I described was not such a bargain, considering the likely cost of the complete build. Depending on the context, I both agree and disagree. So I'll take this opportunity to discuss the benefits, as I see them, of buying a frameset and building it up yourself vs buying a complete bicycle.

Purchasing a complete bike

When a manufacturer releases a bicycle model as a complete build, the price of the bike bundles together a number of things: the frame and fork, the components and accessories, and the labor involved in assembly. The price of the bike will be significantly lower than if you were to pay for all of these things individually. Assuming that you are happy with the components included in the stock build, this makes the bike a great deal compared to buying a frameset only and starting from scratch. You save money on components, you save money on labor, and on top of that you get the immediate gratification of having a ready to ride bicycle straight away.

But keep in mind that the more changes you make, the less of a great deal it will be - especially if you cannot do the work yourself and will need to pay extra for labor. Give particular consideration to whether you are happy with the stock drivetrain and shifting system. Changing this on a stock build can be costly. If the stock bike comes with 700C wheels and you want 650B, a conversion could be pricey. If you want dynamo lighting and the bike does not already have it, you will need to rebuild the front wheel with a dynamo hub, or replace it. If the stem length and handlebar width are wrong for you, you will need new ones. At some point, it might be more cost-effective to start from scratch.

Purchasing a frameset

When a bicycle model is available as a frameset only, it is an opportunity to assemble the bike according to your needs from the start. You can choose the exact gearing you want, your preferred model of levers and brakes, the correct stem length and handlebar width, and a comfortable saddle. You can integrate dynamo lighting into the build from the get-go. In the event the frame is compatible with more than one wheel size, you can choose the wheel size that suits you, instead of executing an aftermarket conversion. Going the frameset-only route is an especially great deal for those who are DIY tinkerers (or live with one) and can do the work without the help of a bike shop, and for those who already have a bunch of components lying around waiting for a frame.

But before buying a frameset, it is a good idea to make sure the bike you want really is different from an available stock build. Oftentimes novice buyers cannot distinguish between what's a big deal to change and what isn't. For example, if a bike is missing fenders and racks, you can add them without making changes to the existing build, thereby still enjoying the savings of starting with a complete bike. Also, if it's a matter of stem length and seat post setback, some bike shops are willing to swap those at no extra cost. Finally, the stock models are usually set up generically - with plain handlebar tape, plastic pedals and unsightly reflectors. While this does not look as nice as a custom build, you can easily and inexpensively personalise the bike without needing to start from scratch.

One thing to add, is that a direct cost comparison between framesets and complete builds is not always possible. While some manufacturers offer both options, others offer only one or the other. The make and model you choose in the first place might depend on which you prefer. For heavy-duty city bikes, there are now plenty of complete stock models available that require few if any aftermarket alterations. Ditto for standard roadbikes. As for 650B mixtes, and other non-mainstream specimens, not so much.

EZ Tools? Finding What Works

I knew that I was pushing my luck, riding a bike that had just been assembled the previous day. And sure enough: 5 miles into the Vermont Fall Classic my dynamo headlight rattled loose. I was just about to rummage around for my folding multitool, when a riding companion, Vorpal Chortle, whipped out a little wrench-looking thingie with multiple heads that I'd never seen or used before. "Here, maybe one of these is the right size?" It was. Without getting off the bike, I tightened my headlight and a moment later we were on our way again.

No one thought that anything out of the ordinary had transpired, but I was stunned. This was not what tightening bolts on a bike was normally like for me. This was done without effort, and more importantly, without the usual flood of shame and anger at my helplessness.

I've explained before the situation with working (or rather not working) on my own bikes. It's not that I don't know how or don't want to learn. I can give others tutorials on bike repair. But I have problems with my hands that limit my hand strength, dexterity and fine motor skills. Even just holding some tools is difficult: They fall out out of my hands, because my fingers can't grip them tightly enough or wrap around them in the right way. In the very best case scenario, I might be able to do an easy repair (like tightening a headlight bracket) but it will take ages. I have tried individual wrenches, Y-wrenches and folding multi tools, and it's always the same story. How or why the flimsy looking Park Tool MT-1 was any different was beyond me.

Shortly after the Vermont Classic I bought an MT-1 of my own (available locally at Harris Cyclery), and can now easily handle anything on a bike that requires a 3/4/5/6/8mm allen wrench, an 8/9/10mm socket wrench, or a straight blade screwdriver. That does not cover everything, but it's a start. There is something about the size and shape of this thing that both stays put in my fingers and provides enough leverage to compensate for my lack of hand strength. The joy this has brought me is almost embarrassing (thanks Vorpal Chortle!).

Granted, this particular tool may not work for everyone. But my point is, if you are finding bike repairs physically difficult there might be something out there that does work. I am going to experiment more aggressively from now on, and maybe I will find tools for all the other tasks I still have trouble with. For instance, I might be imagining this, but I recall watching a woman use a collapsible type of lever that connects to the hub axle(?) to remove a tire in one fell swoop. Maybe I ought to look into that and try to get my flat fixing time to under 30 minutes. In the end, I would love to put together a list of "EZ Tools" suggestions, but I'm not sure how universally applicable these things are. Ultimately, we must keep experimenting to find what works for us, and for some this will be tougher than for others.

Of Sand, Wood and Crossing State Lines: The Quest for a Curvy Fork

Because I like to keep things simple, the bicycle I am making is of course a low trail design. And low trail means a fork with a lot of rake. A very curvy fork, in other words. Not only did I want it to be curvy, but I wanted it to be that special kind of French-curvy where instead of a gradual "banana" bend, there is a dramatic flick toward the tips of the blades (like so).

When you buy supplies for making a fork, what you get is two straight blades that are (hopefully) a bit longer than you need them to be, and a crown which those blades plug into. It is then up to you to rake the blades. The style of bend I wanted requires using blades that are designed to withstand such dramatic manipulation. I went with the Kaisei Toei blades, which were already familiar from other projects I've been involved in. 

To get the fork blades bent as desired, we needed a special setup that was not locally available. So we payed a visit to Cirlce A Cycles in Providence RI, about 30 miles from Mike Flanigan's shop. They have a fork bender that was made specifically for the French-style bend and could produce the 73mm of rake I wanted. The furry receptionist granted us permission to use it. 

Since 73mm is a pretty dramatic amount of rake, Chris Bull suggested filling the fork blades with sand before bending. This would reduce the possibility of damage during the process. 

The blades were taped at both ends to contain the sand.

The fork bending press consists of a wooden block curved according to the French bend design (they have several of these presses, used for different styles of bends). There is a notch along the curve where the fork blade sits, held in place by a vise.

A giant lever is then pushed up, forcing the blade to adhere to the curvature of the wooden block. 

The further up you push, the more dramatic the bend.

At first we did not have an idea of exactly when to stop, so Chris eyeballed it and stopped when he thought the rake was around 50mm. Confirming that this was correct and that the bend was forming properly, he then continued the process until we finally had the 73mm rake we wanted. 

This is the dropout placement mockup. To determine the rake correctly, you need to know how and where the blade will be connected to the dropout. 

One thing that can go wrong during this process, is that the steel can get distorted. When this happens, you can see and feel a rippling on the inside of the bend. Thankfully this did not happen.

For the second blade we now knew exactly when to stop and had a marker in place. I did part of this bend myself and it was pretty cool to feel the blade give under the force of the lever. It is interesting that Circle A's setup makes you push the lever up rather than pull it down; I have never operated this kind of press before. 

Thanks to Circle A, I now have two symmetrical, beautifully raked fork blades that are waiting to become a fork. All I have to do is braze it.

Trompe L'Oeil Lugwork

Having mentioned the idea of doing this as a joke some time ago, imagine my delight when I saw it in the wild: trompe l'oeil lugwork! Standing in the parlor of local pickelleur (randonneuring Dill Pickle bag maker) Emily O'Brien, when I first saw the bike across the room the illusion looked quite real. I figured it was an old beater frame, with the lugs spray painted to contrast the tubes. Then I got closer and realised the lugs looked unusually flat, and finally it hit me: They'd been cut out of tape and wrapped around the welded frame joints. 

And lest you think this project is only about the fabulous looks, it does have practical merit: The tape is reflective. Just imagine the beautiful lugs glowing in the dark... A fun DIY idea to spruce up a boring frame in any event. 

Apparently I am not the only one to have been fooled from a distance, as cyclists stop Emily all the time to ask about the interesting bike, usually assuming it is something vintage and Italian. Any guess as to what this bike is? Hint 1: It's a ubiquitous modern steel bike. Hint 2: The fork crown is lugged for real.

Storing Water on a City Bike

Many city bikes are made without braze-ons for bottle cages on the frame. This is probably because they don't look right with roadbike-style bottle cages, and manufacturers expect that trips on these bikes will be short anyhow. But what about those of us with longer commutes, especially in the summer heat and humidity? While clamp-on bottle cages exist that can be fitted onto the frame without braze-ons, the shape of the frame can make attaching them challenging and unsightly. 

With upright handlebars, it is also not exactly convenient to reach all the way down to the down tube or seat tube for the water bottle. Most seem to prefer alternative solutions. 

DIY handlebar setups are popular, and above is the Co-Habitant's somewhat eccentric solution. He modified regular water bottle cages to clamp onto the bars and can have up to two water bottles at his fingertips as he rides. For him this setup works nicely, though others might find it cluttered - particularly on bikes with not a great deal of room in the "cockpit." 

A more conventional solution is to install a coffee cup holder, the likes of which several manufacturers are producing now. From what I hear, the quality of these holders varies from one brand to another, and they do not fit all water bottles. But if you get one of the good ones and it does fit your bottle of choice, they can work great. 

Personally, I prefer to have as few items attached to my handlebars as possible and would rather carry water in my bag or basket. When I ride a full-sized city bike, I keep a bottle of water in my pannier and keep the pannier unzipped for easy access. When I get thirsty en route, I reach for the water when stopped at a red light, drink, then put the bottle back when done. I don't need to turn around in order to do this and kind of know where it is by feel. 

On the Brompton it is easier still, because the Carradice front bag has stiff rider-facing pockets that are the exact size of a small Klean Kanteen bottle. I can reach the bottle, drink from it, and put it back in the pocket without having to stop the bike. Of all the different ways I have carried water on a city bike, I think I prefer this front pocket option most of all. Not only is the water bottle close at hand, but I then easily can take it with me once off the bike without having to carry it in my hand. 

Do you feel the need to carry water when riding for transportation? Do you think city bikes should come with provisions for doing so? Please share any clever systems you've come up with as well.