You are currently browsing the tag archive for the 'bicycle' tag.
For some reason I continue to be surprised when correspondents call me Brian. I’ll be frank, that’s not my real name…and, no, neither is Frank!
I enjoy writing under a nom-de-clavier as it provides a limited degree of privacy and a greater degree of intellectual escapism. I can experiment, discuss and develop new themes and ideas without caring one jot about professional credibility. I can even call myself Brian. And yes, I was kidding about the credibility…
Careful readers may have noticed that I prefer to write about bicycles and bicyclism rather than “cycling” – a term too often appropriated by the sport cycling industry to the detriment, I believe, of ordinary riders of bicycles. Let’s be clear, I regard humbly riding a bicycle to work on a daily basis as far more heroic than repeatedly circumcycling a velodrome in pursuit of glory or gold and a damned sight more socially and economically valuable too!
I may not always succeed but I try to treat the bicycle as a metaphor or analogue for something. Ocassionally I’ll just write a meditation on tinkering with an old bicycle – a literary brico-cyc-lage – often with obsessive attention to unimportant detail. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t matter. Sometimes I get it into my head to dig up random trivia. And quotes! I love finding references which express an attuitude towards the bicycle or bicyclism.
But I digress. The name – Flaneur Brian – is perhaps best considered a polyseme; a vaguely Joycean homonymic homage to Flann O’Brien, author of The Third Policeman, as well as being an amalgam of the Flâneur and the bemused victim of happenstance (epitomised by Brian, in Monty Python’s Life of) to compose a character that represents, to me at least, an archetypal urban bicyclist in the transportation paragone of the twenty-first century.
Have I lost you yet?
Call me eccentric…but you can call me Brian.
R:B
No, really!? An automatic bicycle parking system in Tokyo with capacity for 9400 bicycles.
Somehow this just seems entirely contradictory – a misapplication of excessive technology – but I’ll let you judge for yourself…
R:B
I attached a rudimentary camera mount to the Chiltern some time back but wasn’t entirely satisfied with the results – because the camera was mounted ahead of the handlebars, any movement of the handlebars was highly exaggerated making for some rather comical scenes.
However, I was able to salvage some footage from a trial outing and have finally turned it into a couple of shorts. Here’s a quick dash down the Tay Road Bridge to Dundee and up the river to the “new” Railway Bridge…
R:B
There seems to be a red thing happening in the better-dressed parts of bicycledom.
I’m never going to be accused of cycle chic…bicycle fogeyism, perhaps! However, to keep the red flag flying, here’s my contribution…a gorgeous, new, bright red Kronan that someone has decided to use as a litter bin for their pizza box…damn them! Come the revolution…
R:B
In light of my brief exchange with Fixup on the subject of bars bereft of brakes, I felt I really had to share this snap of a generally unspectacular bicycle I spotted in Amsterdam. There are likely thousands like it but there was something about the empty square bars that, for me, just epitomised the idea of the bicycle as a modernist icon.
R:B
Marc at Amsterdamize.com has some very useful tips on cycling in Amsterdam (where else!) and I thought it might be worth appending what I learned on my recent visit.
- If you rent a bicycle as a tourist/visitor, make sure you go for one with the rental company sign on the front – I got the impression the locals appreciate the warning label! :c)
- Before deciding to rent a bicycle with a coaster brake, bear in mind that mumblety-cough years of reaching for handlebar-mounted brake levers is an instinct that may take time to unlearn. Traffic – even two-wheeled – is probably definitely not the place.
- If you want transportation rather than recreation and you’re more familiar with “hand brakes”, then ask for them. Neither prayers nor swearing are effective methods of arresting a bicycle’s progress (see above).
- If I still haven’t put you off, bear in mind that a coaster brake, like a fixie, doesn’t let you “cock” your pedal for easy take-off at stoppages. You need to stop with your pedals in a sensible position or you’ll look like a grinning idiot with a touch of chorea as you try to bend the bicycle to your will. The locals know this and simply don’t stop.
- Don’t worry about the language. Everyone cycling in Amsterdam speaks English perfectly – you’ll frequently hear them offering helpful advice such as “You’re going the wrong way…!”
- In some areas of Amsterdam, you may find a bicycle symbol painted on the ground to mark a cycle lane. Sometimes you may also find cycle lanes where the symbol is painted upside down. Don’t worry, this is intentional and simply indicates that you’re going the wrong way…
- Don’t try and follow an Amsterdamer through a narrow gap – you won’t fit! Trust me! They’ve got retractable pedals or something…
- Dutch traditional black bicycles are quite tall in the stem compared to British roadster models. There is likely an historical reason involving tax avoidance. It means the zwarte fiets can perhaps feel twitchy and wobbly at low speeds to some riders. This is perfectly alright. Just pedal faster.
- Give it a go. Once you go black you may never go back…
We used Damstraat Rent-a-Bike which was convenient and inexpensive and we found the guys there to be helpful and friendly. Give them a try. I think they’ve possibly stopped laughing by now!
R:B
I’ve recently been messing around with methods of mounting a camera to the front of the Chiltern. One of the better ideas was simply to attach a Cullmann 0903 ball-and-socket adaptor (although Hama do a cheaper version) to the front rack. Unfortunately it doesn’t allow any degree of lateral movement in this orientation and I have subsequently changed to a taller handlebar stem so the rack now attaches differently and the adaptor won’t fit as I had originally planned anyway. However, this may inspire someone else…
I mounted the adaptor with a 1/4″ threaded eye bolt which also provided somewhere to securely attach the camera strap. Two “penny” washers parted from 32mm diameter acetyl rod and a gasket made of a slice of inner tube ensure the screwed assembly doesn’t fall apart through vibration.
R:B
So what’s new with the Chiltern? I bought some luggage-carrying capacity in the form of a Steco front rack from Het Zwarte Fietsenplan in Amsterdam – thanks Bart! – and finally fitted some new rubber (a pair of gum wall Schwalbe Delta Cruisers). I added a new, longer gear cable using the original outer skin and refitted the chain guard after re-painting it (badly) and then proceeded to scrape it all off again on this run through the forest…
I’ve changed the handlebars since this photo for a set of lovely swept-back raised bars I found on a scrapped ladies Emmelle and I’m currently awaiting delivery of a longer stem which should help with positioning the front rack.
I’ve also been toying with the idea of backdating the relatively plain crank to one of the older Raleigh style with the heron’s head. It was only while examining the examples I had on hand that I noticed that the later version is not only less well detailed – an eyeless heron and no additional bracing in the voids – but is also facing the other direction!
Sadly, the older version was intended for operation in an oil-bath chain case and they’ve skimped on the chrome plating. I don’t think it could stand up to the Scottish weather without it…a pity!
I’ve also begun to think about illumination…before long it’ll start getting dark just after lunch! This’ll be initially dynamo-powered with supercapacitor standing backup and (hopefully) ultimately a home-brew setup running from dynamo-recharged lithium-polymer batteries.
Like my mudguard badges? :c)
R:B














