Bella Ciao Superba: Ready and Available!

Fashionably late and appropriately glamorous, the Bella Ciao Superba is here! I was nervous up till the moment I saw it, but the bicycle is perfect. The pre-ordered bikes should be off to their owners very soon.

To recap for new readers, this is the result of a collaboration between myself and Bella Ciao, and you can read about it here and here. Twelve bikes were made as a special edition and they are available exclusively at Harris Cylery in West Newton, MA. I know that a good portion of them have already been sold, so please check with Harris for availability. The price is $1,495. I am not the one selling the bicycles (and I do not receive commission on the ones sold), so please contact Harris directly with all sales inquiries.

The Bella Ciao Superba frames were handmade in Italy, using Columbus Thron tubing. The frame size is 54cm, with 700C wheels. Tires are the cream Schwalbe Delta Cruisers, 700Cx35mm. The wheelsets are proprietary to Bella Ciao, made inhouse.

The Superba includes all the components and accessories pictured here, which I will detail below. It is a 3-speed bicycle with a rear coaster brake and front handbrake, internally routed dynamo lighting front and rear, leather Brooks saddle, natural cork grips, chaincase, and a handmade rear rack.

The stainless steel racks were designed by me and handmade in Dorcester, Massachusetts by Trimount Ironworks. They are rated to carry 18kg (40lb) of weight, provide attachment for bungee cords, and will accommodate a variety of pannier systems.

There is a provision for attaching a battery-operated tail light to the rack, for those who wish to supplement the dynamo lighting.

One thing I like about the stainless rack with its thin tubing, is that it has the effect of being "invisible" on the bike. I've played around with a number of different racks, and this definitely suits the bicycle best. I may write a separate post about the rack design in the near future.

The high-polished alloy handlebars are made by Bella Ciao. I would describe them as a hybrid between North Road and Porteur style bars, and they are possibly my favourite handlebars on the market today.

The bike is fitted with natural Portuguese cork grips from Rivendell and elegant Tektro city brake levers. The cork grips will be left unfinished, but they can be shellacked by the owner - which will make them darker. The brake lever can be placed either on the right or on the left.

Brass bell, of course.

The dynamo-powered lighting is by the German manufacturer Buechel.

It looks fairly classic and unobtrusive, and works nicely.

The dynamo hub is Shimano. The wiring is routed externally up the fork, then internally through the frame, exiting through one of the chainstays.

Sturmey Archer 3-speed coaster brake hub.

Front caliper brake.

Brown Brooks B72 saddle.

Non-slip platform pedals.

And the fork ends/dropouts (I like to remove those black dust caps, but forgot to do it here). You can also see the bungee cord attachment point on the rack here.

The colour of the bike as it shows up in the pictures here is fairly accurate. It is not the same colour as my own bike, but a more vibrant, saturated pastel green. If you have any questions about the features, I will be glad to answer them here. I hope that the owners of these bicycles will be pleased with them - I am very happy with how they came out. There is some talk of more bikes, but nothing is certain yet - so your thoughts are welcome. Many thanks to Bella Ciao again for the opportunity to work on this project, and many thanks to Harris Cycley for all of their help.

Ridden to Distraction

[image via Amsterdamized]

I have noticed that I feel a greater need to concentrate on the road when riding for transportation than other cyclists I know. This is not a criticism of others, but an admission of my own cognitive deficit: While in many ways I am a multi-tasker, this trait has bypassed anything that involves sensorimotor coordination, and sadly I am one of those people who has a difficult time chewing gum and walking at the same time. I am also a scary-horrible driver, never quite sure when it's safe to merge or at what angle to approach a parking spot.

When it comes to cycling for transportation, I am actually remarkably calm and collected - provided that I pay attention to the task at hand. For that reason I am uncomfortable chatting while navigating traffic, and no doubt appear rude to those who innocently attempt to socialise with me during their commutes. Sometimes another cyclist will pull up and start talking to me when I am on my way somewhere, and all I can think is "Oh my God, you're blocking me in and I need to make a left turn!" - not feeling very friendly at all. Needless to say, talking on the phone or texting is out of the question for me, and I am always stunned to see cyclists who are proficient at this - texting away as they execute complex traffic maneuvers in the most relaxed manner imaginable. Listening to music is something I can do on quiet country roads, but not in busy urban traffic. Drinking coffee on the bike? Forget it. I can sometimes rummage in my front basket for my sunglasses and put them on without stopping, but that is probably the height of my achievements.

Though I believe it is "dangerous" to perform sensory demanding tasks while riding a bike, I am aware that my views on this are influenced by my own inability to do these things safely. So, out of curiosity, what is your distraction threshold when you're cycling in traffic? And if you're also a driver, does it differ from being behind the wheel of a car?

Paint It Good: On Bicycles Becoming Art

[image via The Good Bike Project]

Once upon a time I was enrolled in art school and we had this visiting professor - a new media guy - whose sulky catchphrase was "painting always wins." By this he meant that painting, being the traditional form of artistic expression, enjoys an unfair advantage over less conventional art forms in that it is more readily accepted as "art" by the general public - even if it is not. Those students who were not painters nodded sagely every time he said this, whispering "patriarchal" and "privileged" while throwing scornful sideways glances at their painterly peers. Whereas those students who were painters shrugged dismissively: "Well of course he's going to say that; he's a new media guy who hates painters." Naturally, both groups were right, but this is the sort of debate that is taken very seriously in art schools. I hadn't thought about Professor Sulky New Media Guy in some time - until I came across a link to this article on TreeHugger.

My understanding of the story is like this: A woman in Toronto decided to decorate a bicycle that was abandoned, locked up to a bike rack. She painted it neon orange and placed potted flowers in the basket. The city of Toronto then ticketed the bicycle, indicating that it was tagged for removal as a result of being abandoned and now clearly unridable. The woman and her friends decided to protest this and formed a collective, seeking out other abandoned bicycles and painting them neon colours as well. They received publicity. Eventually, the city stopped ticketing the bikes and reluctantly agreed to treat the project as public art. It is called The Good Bike Project and it has been applauded by cycling and environmental blogs for "defying" the city of Toronto.

Call me a disloyal artist if you will. Tell me I lack appreciation for symbolism. Accuse me of being no fun. Fine. But I look at these pictures of spraypainted bikes locked up to bike racks and I think: "Someone could have used that bicycle. Someone could have used that bike rack." I've read the article a couple of times and have browsed the project's website, but I don't get what exactly it is protesting and what exactly it is trying to say. It seems to me that in removing blatantly abandoned bicycles, the city of Toronto was actually doing cyclists a service by freeing up bike racks and other potential lock-up spots. Of course it would be great if those abandoned bikes could be rescued, then refurbished and donated to those who need them. But to turn useful objects into decorations, while also taking away parking spaces from cyclists? I don't know. Spraypainting a bicycle so as to render it unridable is not recycling, and perhaps what irks me is that this word is being used to describe the Good Bike Project. Refurbishing a bicycle is recycling, and I would love to see that become the de facto fate of abandoned bikes in cities throughout the world.

Whether spraypainting abandoned bicycles is art is not my call. And perhaps it's ironic that in the back of my mind echoes the sulky professor's complaint that painting always wins. "Paint it and they will applaud," he'd say - to warn, I now realise, rather than to mock.

Unexpected Interludes

Back in the city now from our stay on the shore, I am looking back in bemusement at what had been intended as a bicycling-heavy trip, but turned out to be anything but.

It did rain a great deal. But even when the weather was good, we hardly did any substantial cycling. In fact, we probably cycled less during this trip than at any other point since winter ended. Like everyone else who rides a bicycle, I go through periods when my enthusiasm for it waxes and wanes. But this was probably the strongest and most unexpected case of the latter I have experienced since I started this blog. Why?..

On a superficial level it was really very simple: I lost interest in cycling when I discovered that the water was warm enough to swim. You see, I love swimming in the ocean but can't tolerate hot climates, so my options are severely limited and I've been swim-starved for years. In Northern New England the water is too icy, but in Southern New England (let alone popular vacation spots such as Florida) the weather is already too hot and humid for me. It is as if there is an imaginary line somewhere along the MA/RI border where the climate and the water temperature undergo a dramatic change and what I really need is a place that is north of that imaginary line as far as climate goes, but south of it in terms of water temperature. And unexpectedly, I found such a place in Rockport, MA. Despite it being August, it was never above the low 80s, and dipped as low as the 60s on cooler days. Yet, the water remained swimmable the entire time and I found myself perfectly content to spend my waking hours at the beach: swim, read, eat, repeat. I cannot remember the last time I've been able to do anything like this!

I also must admit that we did not enjoy cycling here as much as we hoped during the few times we did it. Going north to Ipswich and beyond, water views were limited, car traffic was pretty heavy and there was not a whole lot of shade. We know from experience that once you get up the coast to New Hampshire and Maine it gets better, but we never made it that far. Truthfully, cycling "at home" - along the tree-lined, quiet country roads Northwest of Boston - is, on the whole, considerably more enjoyable.

So at some point we decided to just let it go and accept that there wasn't going to be a whole lot of cycling during this trip.

We used the bikes for transportation when necessary, but gave up even trying to go on "real" rides after the first week.

By the time we loaded up the bikes again to head back, I felt as if I'd gotten completely unaccustomed to it and the weight of our luggage was challenging. There are many short, but steep hills en route from the place where we stayed to the train station, and the bike fishtailed wildly every time I attempted to feather the brakes on a downhill. Given the huge amount of Saturday tourist traffic and the narrowness of the road, this made me so nervous that I was shaking and covered in sweat by the time we got on the train. Ironically, the final leg of the trip home - from the train station in the center of Boston to our house on the outskirts - was less stressful, but by the time we got home I was completely drained and did not want to look at another 100 lb luggage-laden bike again for a long, long time.

24 hours later, I still can't shake that feeling - a feeling that somehow morphed from that of being tired of just the trip home, to being tired of cycling in general. Maybe the hot, dusty, overloaded final ride was just a particularly cruel contrast to the cool, light feeling of being on the beach - swimming so far out from shore as to be surrounded by complete silence, submerged in the blissfully perfect temperature of Rockport's water. Also, maybe having taken a step back from cycling has made me realise that I've been neglecting other activities that I used to love - still love, in fact, but just don't get a chance to do. Maybe I ought to try harder to find time for them. Take swimming for instance: After all, Rockport is just a commuter rail's ride away and I can take one of my upright transportation bikes on the train, and... Ah, there. I guess I am still thinking of everything in terms of bikes, and there is really no danger of Lovely Bicycle abruptly ending as I run off to spend all of my time on the beach. Everyone needs an interlude, but cycling is such an inherent part of me now that I can hardly imagine life without it, at least in some form.

GIANT "Attraction" finished

Hello and Welcome, It seems like I have been all over the place lately with the restorations and other posts. But in reality, that is exactly how it happens in the shop. When I am waiting for parts to arrive I normally jump into another project. Sometimes I can finish a complete restoration project while waiting for a special order to arrive. When I last posted about the Giant (including the rust-removal post) We had finished the bottom bracket and crank. The headset was rebuilt and I had cleaned-up the brakes. Oh yes and we had a seat-post. And I believe I had done some work on the wheel-set. So I will try to pick it up from there.
Left Click on Iamges to Enlarge. Click on Back(<)Button to Return

Above: The Shimano rear derailleur all cleaned-up and be re-mounted. The derailleur is in good shape. But honestly, I would have expected something a little nicer on a Giant.

Above: The front derailleur all cleaned-up and mounted. The chain I used is not new, but is in excellent condition. I cleaned and lubed the chain and it is running smoothly through the rear gears and jockey wheels. I used White-Lightning "Clean-Streak" on the derailleurs and will lube them with Tri-Flo.

Above: I went with a Phat tire. These are 26 x 2.125 Cruiser Tires. These are not Kenda they are C.S. They appear to be the exact same tread pattern as the Kenda. I think they might use the same mold. I went with black-walls because I liked the way the black-walls looked on the Black Ross High-Tech I overhauled for a friend a while back. Don`t let the "knobby looking" tread pattern fool you, These babies roll smooth.

Above: Look closely and you can see the original rear axle is bent. The pie-plate was yellowed and brittle. I could hear the plastic cracking as I tried to remove it. So I promptly tossed it in the wheelie-bin. (a garbage can with wheels) I just happened to have a matching axle in stock. Yah gotta get lucky once in a while!

Above: I must admit, It does look better without the pie-plate. The replacement axle is actually a hair shorter. I think it looks better "nearly flush" with the axle-nuts. Note the new Jag-Wire derailleur cable. I did re-use the housing, it was in fine condition. (no cracks/no rust) The wheel polished-up nicely (after brushing) and looks good with the new phat tire. (all the cables were eventually replaced with new Jag-Wire cables)

Above: An "out of focus" shot of the new jag-wire brake shoes. I think the Jag-Wire logo looks real cool. Next time I`ll try to get a better shot.

I swapped the shifters for a nearly identical set (actually a little nicer) off a parts bike. One of the originals was cracked. The right (rear) shifter can be switched to friction. And I think That is Great! Especially with a cheaper rear derailleur. The Velo Ergonomic Gel Grips are very comfortable. And as you will see, are a good match with the saddle. They are also the same combination I used on the Nishiki "Garbage Day Rescue" bike.

Above: A shot of the Velo Tempo Z1 Saddle. The saddle and grips are both very affordable and both very comfortable as well. Note the ZeFal tail light mounted on the seat-post, which is set a little low. This bike is a little tall but still very comfortable for me.

I went with two Ze'Fal water-bottle cages. I can go through one bottle of water very quickly this time of year. At 7.99 a pop it is not a huge expense. I have seen these at Walmart, K Mart and Miejer`s and at my LBS. And they do also match the gray and black saddle and grips. (not intentional)

I also made another last minute change and added these dual-sport pedals with old fashion toe-clips and straps. I don`t care what you call them, but I do not like plastic pedals. Except maybe on a child`s tricycle.

Above: So here is the finished project, I think it came-out pretty good. That is the same Ze'fal light set I have been using lately. You can find these for under 20.00 U.S.(if you shop around a little) I use them more as "be seen" lights, as I do not normally ride after dark or before sun-rise.

Above: The Giant Attraction shown from the left side. I also installed a new Greenfield kickstand. I have had to purchase a few kickstands lately. It seems my supply of quality "salvaged kick-stands" is exhausted.

Above: A front-left view of the bike. I`m going to have trouble pricing this one.
I may offer it at one price including lights and two cages, and a lesser price with no lights and one cage. Or I may add a rear rack and front mud-guard and offer it up as another Urban Commuter. I really hate this part. I wish I could keep them all or give them all away. But this rescue and recycling thing has to pay for itself.

Well that just about covers it for this restoration. While I was waiting for the tires to arrive I worked on the bike I used in the rust-removal post. It came out
really sweet. I knew it was going to be a nice little bike when finished, but it has surpassed my wildest expectations. Also all that is left to do on the Parliament is to replace the rear wheel with the refurbished original. And also do the paint touch-up. Coming up with a price for that one is going to be a nightmare.

Above: The last preview of the Parliament before I finish it. I really mean it this time..LTMS
Until Next Time, Ride Safe and Remember to Always RESCUE, RESTORE & RECYCLE
Cheers, Hugh

The Bike Aquatic

Our latest trip along the coast was of the epically off-road variety.

Behold the single speed aquatic tandem recumbent, a.k.a. pedal boat! Isn't she a beauty? When I was growing up, we used to pedal these things around small lakes, but I had no idea they could be taken out into the ocean. Turns out there is a whole culture out there of self-propelled ocean travel, including transatlantic voyages. The boats used for those are a tad more sophisticated, but this one is just fine for pedaling leisurely along the coast.

The local rental place assured us that these boats are marvelously stable and virtually impossible to flip over. We experimented, and are pleased to confirm this. Very safe and reliable, even in turbulent water.

Operating the pedal boat was much more effortful than we expected! Ocean water is rougher than lake water, and pedaling this thing felt like riding a single speed bicycle that is geared way too high.

Feeling as if we were treading through thick mud as we rode the waves and tried to stay on course, we soon longed for gears and foot retention. At least the adjustable seats allowed for full leg extension.

Despite our slow progress along the coast, the whole thing was ridiculously fun. It took me some time just to calm down from the excitement of being out in the ocean on a pedal boat.

We went as far out as we dared, pedaling among the sailboats and lobster boats and imagining what it would be like to cross the Atlantic on one of these things.

We pedaled into some of the tiny harbors and beaches that line this part of the coast and took photos from angles that would have been impossible from the shore. We docked outside a cafe and I jumped out to buy us some coffee - just for the fun of having done this. And for the first time in maybe 10 years I wore boat shoes on an actual boat.

We are both pretty comfortable in the water, and at some point we took turns swimming next to the boat. I wish I had the nerve to do this way out in the ocean - but after having seen sharks on Cape Cod for the past two summers I am cautious about that stuff, so this was fairly close to shore.

After three hours we returned the boat, utterly exhausted. Pedaling it felt very much like cycling - though so strenuous that you'd have to be in pretty good shape to do any serious touring along the coast. I cannot help now but wonder what the "serious" pedal boats feel like to operate - I imagine not very different from a recumbent bicycle, not that I have any experience with those either. I am happy to have found a way to combine my love of the ocean with cycling. Pedal boat, we will meet again!

Saltwater and Rust

Both this summer and in previous years we've brought our bikes to the coast, we've noticed rust forming alarmingly quickly - even with the bicycles kept indoors. The chain is usually the first to rust, with the various bolts that hold components together shortly following suit. Even hardy powdercoated frames are not immune to this: We noticed rust spots on the Co-Habitant's pale blue Surly at the end of our first week here. I am curious how those who live next to salt water year-round take care of their bicycles. If the rate of rust formation we are seeing is any indication, it seems that bikes kept near salt water are liable to become rust buckets in no time.

On the other hand, I recall that my parents - who live around the corner from a marina - have always kept bikes in the garage, which was left open more often than not. These included my old mountain bike - which was stored in this manner for 15 years before I retrieved it, and the vintage Raleigh we later restored - which must have been kept there for over 20 years. Neither of these bikes show any more rust than is typical for their age. Could it be that bicycles were somehow rust-proofed in the past, and that this is no longer done? Or does rust formation slow down after an initially vigorous attack? Insights from coastal dwellers appreciated!