On Sentimentality and Retiring Old Bikes

When we got the Co-Habitant's SurlyCross-Check frame, it was supposed to be an off-road-capable supplement to his vintage roadbike, not a replacement. But after he built up the Surly and took it on several rides, the oldMotobecane was soon put away. We had expected that the modern cross bike with wide tires would be more comfortable, but slower and less agile than the vintage roadbike. Instead, it is more comfortable in addition to being just as agile and also faster - not to mention more stable and entirely lacking in shimmy on descents.

The Co-Habitant is a wee bit disillusioned in vintage bikes at the moment. All the lugs and "patina" in the world are not worth it to him, if a reasonably priced, good quality new TIG-welded frame fitted with decent components offers a better ride.That is not to say that a mass produced mid-tier Motobecanefrom 1976 represents all vintage bikes. But sometimes experimenting with vintage until you find a good frame can be more expensive than buying new.

Nonetheless, "Myles" the Motobecanewas the first roadbike he'd ridden as an adult, andthe one and only roadbike he's been riding for the past two years. It was old and crusty and we made it beautiful. It was rickety and we updated it with nicer components. That bike got him through multiple trips to Maine and Cape Cod just fine, before he knew that "just fine" could feel even better. It seems almost a betrayal to get rid of it so unceremoniously.



We've considered turning the Motobecane into a beater city bike, but that idea was eventually dismissed. Ultimately, he likes wide tires and stable handling for city riding, and a twitchy 1970s French roadbike is just not his idea of a good time in our pothole-ridden neighbourhood. Fair enough.



So, what to do with a retired bike? One option is to sell it as a complete bicycle. The other option is to strip all the good components, keep them for future projects or trades, and sell just the frame. In the past, we've always gone with the former, even though financially it makes less sense. This time we are considering the latter, but ultimately still leaning toward the former out of sheer sentimentality - if Myles is kept intact, at least he would still be "alive." But of course that's ridiculous.



Later in the summer I will face a similar dilemma with my vintage Moserfixed gear conversion. It feels too small. But more importantly, despite having been reassured about the low bottom bracket issueI've now actually experienced pedal strike on this bike and that's enough to convince me that I need a fixed-gear specific road frame. In the case of the Moser, I plan to move its wheelset and some of the other components to the new frame when I get it, and just hang on to the Moser frame as a keepsake. I got in in Austria and the memories associated with it are worth more to me than whatever money I could get for the frame. Maybe some time later I will give it away to a friend as a gift, but I just don't feel that it's sellable.



What do you do with bicycles that you replace or retire? Does sentimental attachment get in the way of reason?

Spring Break

It was warm! It was dry! Very unusual for our winter this year. I was afraid we'd missed the bluebells coming up, since last year by this time they'd been budding for at least a week.

There was no sign of bluebells at all, though; not a single leaf was sprouting. It's been cold. Unceasingly, mind-numbingly, give-no-quarter cold.



We did find a few little decumbent trilliums poking up (Trillium decumbens).



There were very few of them. These individuals were on one of the warmer, sunnier slopes. I thought I heard one of them sqeak, "First!"



A single budding Toothwort was nearby.



I was sure we'd find a few Hepatica blooming, but we had to be satisfied with their lovely leaves.



We grilled some salmon, took a nap, went on this little hike, then lounged in the sun. It was nearly 70°F (21°C). It's been so cold and wet and dreary lately. It was wonderful to have a break from all that, even if it was just for one weekend.

We cleaned up in the garden a little, pulling dry vines off their supports. This had been maddening, gloppy work when they were wet. We didn't even care that we were probably popping off dozens of morning glory seeds straight into the garden soil. There are hundreds of them there already. No, probably more like thousands. They were in this dirt when it was brought in. Every spring, we pluck the sprouts with zeal, but by summer's end the morning glories have always won the battle. But on a weekend like this, we just didn't care.

Spanky & Tuffee

Spanky is Julie's dog. He and Tuffee are friends and like to run up and down along the wire fence between our places.

The Clipless Ambush: a Tale of Failure

Well, my first encounter with clipless pedals occurred sooner than I anticipated. Last week the Co-Habitant decided to update his pedals, and the new set arrived in the mail today... which meant that he could gift me his old ones. I thought that surely this gifting would take place some time in the future - a distant, abstract future. But no. Cheerfully he attached them to one of our vintage roadbikes right then and there, so that I could give them a try. Don't get me wrong, I myself had expressed interest in this. But... I don't know, I just didn't expect it to happen immediately!



I already owned a pair of compatible shoes, having bought them on clearance last summer "just in case." With apprehension I watched him attach the cleats to the soles, trying to gauge the correct position. I then put them on and dragged the bike over to the kitchen sink, so that I could hold on to the edge with one hand as I tried to figure out how the contraptions worked.



I expected that clipping in would be relatively easy, but clipping out difficult. It was the opposite. At first I could not to clip in. I tried and tried, but my foot stayed on top of the pedal and the mechanism would not engage no matter how hard I pressed. I struggled to figure out what I was doing wrong, but the explanation turned out to be simple: I am a weakling. We had to loosen the tension almost to the max for my foot to engage the mechanism. Even after that, I still had trouble pressing down with enough force and in the exact position necessary for the cleat to catch. Clipping out, on the other hand, was intuitive: the sideways twist of the foot is exactly the same motion required to get out of Power Grips, so I found it natural.Transitioning from the kitchen sink to the trainer, I practiced for some time, clipping in and out successfully. I then decided it was time to go outside. I felt pretty confident at this point. Nothing to this.

It was around 10 pm and the small side street behind our house was well lit and empty of cars. Confidently, I carried the bike outdoors, swung my leg over the top tube, and clipped in my right foot. Now all I had to do was push off, coast for a bit, then put my left foot back down on the ground. That would be such an easy first step. No different from Power Grips. Just need to do it. Now. Go! But... it was not to be. Like some malfunctioning marionette, I kept clipping and unclipping my right foot, trying to mentally force myself to push off, but it wasn't working; nothing was happening. The amused Co-Habitant offered to stand at the end of the street and "catch me" if I found myself unable to unclip when I got there. But imagining that just made it worse. It began to feel as if I'd forgotten how to ride a bike entirely.

There is no redeeming ending to this story. After a good ten minutes I gave up and went back inside, my head hung low in shame. Obviously I am just not ready.

Aside from the tale of failure, I have some observations about the shoe and pedal set-up. I can't find the model name of the shoes, but in retrospect getting clipless shoes with laces was silly. Being stiff and unyielding, they are difficult to put on and tighten, and it's a pain to tuck the laces under the velcro. I am also not sure these pedals are right for me. They are Shimano SPD 520s: mountain bike style, double sided and with a very small surface area. I know that many love this type of pedal, but to me it felt like not enough of my foot was connected. Pedaling on the trainer, I had the sensation that there was too much pressure on the spot where the cleat meets the pedal and that a larger contact area would have been better. Maybe these particular shoes are not stiff enough, or maybe I would do better with a different style of pedals. There seems to be a consensus that the mountain bike clipless system is easier than the road system, but I wonder whether I might prefer the latter. Unfortunately, there is no way to try these things out.

Navigating the world of clipless shoes and pedals is complicated, and at the moment it seems best to postpone it... at least until I am brave enough to use the ones I have beyond the confines of my kitchen!

Mini fallout

Late yesterday afternoon we had a mini-fallout of spring birds, so we got up early this morning to see if they were still here. They were! In addition to the usual suspects, we heard and/or saw these migrants:

Ruby-throated Hummingbird
White-eyed Vireo
Red-eyed Vireo
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
Hooded Warbler
Kentucky Warbler
Louisiana Waterthrush
Northern Parula
Worm-eating Warbler
Black-and-white Warbler
Prairie Warbler
Common Yellowthroat
[Ed - forgot one!]
Green Heron

And maybe - Swainson's Warbler. Maybe. We never saw it, and we're not very familiar with its song. It sounded a lot like a Louisiana Waterthrush's song, only not quite. But I'm remembering that time on a bird count when we chased what I thought was a singing Swainson's warbler for quite a while, scrambling over hill and dale, the ID becoming more concrete with each warblery rendition, and then when we finally saw the bird... Well I can't remember what it was, but it sure as heck wasn't a Swainson's. A lesson in birding-by-ear humility.

A few birds we saw hanging out with the warblers will be leaving us soon and heading north:

Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Yellow-rumped Warbler
Yellow-bellied Sapsucker
White-throated Sparrow
Cedar Waxwings

Oh, and we saw a new yard bird!

Eastern Meadowlark


Many small spiderwebs were visible in the early morning dew.


A bigger web.


Another big one.

I wish I could show pictures of all the migrants we saw, but this is the best I could manage - I don't have the camera for far-away birds.


A Louisiana Waterthrush. They constantly wag their tails up and down when they walk. The Northern Waterthrush looks almost exactly like this, but his song is different.

And if you think that picture is small and fuzzy, you should see the Pine Warbler...


Oh well there's always...

the female Red-bellied Woodpecker at the suet feeder.


The amount of pollen that fell on my binoculars while we ate lunch in the back yard.

Ginger Lemonade

Ugh. That's 43°C outside, 26°C inside.

Healthy Chef Alex's Sweet Ginger Lemonade (Serves 4)

4 cups filtered water
4 Tbsp. fresh squeezed lemon juice
2 Tbsp. fresh squeezed ginger juice
2 Tbsp. raw honey

You're supposed to make the ginger juice by grating fresh ginger and squeezing the pulp with your hand. Then you're supposed to simmer everything together until the honey is melted. Of course this makes warm lemonade, and if you want cool lemonade like most rational people, you have to wait for it to chill.

I'm glad to have gotten the recipe from Healthy Chef Alex, but this is how I really make it:

Karen's Quick and Dirty Ginger Lemonade (Serves 1)
(When you're in a hurry and don't have time to worry with all that)

2 Tbsp bottled lemon juice
2 Tbsp sugar
3/4 cup tap water
Small amount (to taste) bottled minced ginger

Stir it all up, and plunk in a few ice cubes. No waiting.

The amount of ginger you have to use is miniscule. The ginger I linked to is so fine that it practically dissolves.

My talent in life

White clover, Trifolium repens.

Finding 4-leaf clovers... it seems to be my one natural talent. Other people's natural talents often lead to fame or fortune, if they are born with a nice singing voice, say, or the ability to draw. Mine, not so much, although it can sometimes impress people at picnics.

Certain clover patches seem to contain more than others. I haven't found too many here, so I usually don't pick them, on the off chance that it will make the patch produce more. (I have no idea how they are produced, and google searches have proven unsatisfying.)

I wish that I had picked this one, and dried it to send to my nephew. He should have arrived in Afghanistan by now, and could probably use some luck.

Happy New Year

Last night we stayed here at Thousand Trails to ring in the New Year. They had music and dancing in the parking lot. Nathan was tired from the tournament, and so we considered leaving early a few times. At Austin's insistence, we stayed until after midnight. We had so much fun.



We were able to spend some time gabbing with another FOTR that we just met. I first read about Greg on Rich and Donna's blog Florida Picklers, and asked Nathan who Greg was because I suspected they might be another FOTR. In typical male fashion, he didn't know.



As soon as I met Greg, I asked if he was the homeschooling dad and it was him. He has been down at the pickleball courts with us for the past week so I had some time to get to know him a bit. I met Cheryl and their three children Shayna, Josiah and JJ the next day and had lots of fun getting to know Cheryl.



Sadly, they headed out today so we will probably not see them for some time. You can read about their journey here: The Kalers



The moon had a beautiful ring around it and apparently it was a blue moon also. It was nice to have that special touch from nature to watch over us as we were spending time celebrating an event of something new.



Wishing our friends and family a Happy New Year!



May bring as much peace and joy to our lives as this past year has.



Living the life in Florida!

Fury

In the late 1950's there was a TV show about a little boy and his big black horse called Fury. I saw a model of him and of course wanted it. Both my sister and I got one for Christmas that year. This is mine.

H Street Revisited

Now that H Street is coming back into its own, I wanted to pick my father’s brain about what it was like back in his day, in the 1920s. I decided we ought to take a tour, and see what was left, so we climbed into my pollen laden car and went back in time.

Our first hurdle was driving down H Street from Northwest to Northeast Everywhere we went the streets are being ripped up or there is new construction. Plus Dad couldn’t see through all the green funk on the windshield so that was a handicap, but we finally found the block where my grandfather, Peter Cokinos, had his candy shop at 1103 H Street. There’s a convenience store and an empty space there now, but back then he used to make candy and ice-cream in the basement. He made a very good living at it, too, and retired in about 1926.

I asked Dad if there were any other Greeks around back then, and it sounds like you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting a half dozen families - including branches of our own clan. Jim Cokinos, a first cousin, to Papou, had a deli at 10th and K, and the Kendros family lived nearby. There was the Kavakos Grill at 8th and H which became a nightclub during World War II, plus The Rendezvous which the Kalevas family ran. The Chaconas Bar and Grill was at 10th and H, and the Bacchus Grill was at H and 15th ( owned by the Bachhus family not the god)
He also remembers the Paramount Grill was run by two Greek brothers. It was "a blue collar sort of breakfast place". (Imagine that.)

Besides all the Greeks ,there was also Whall's Department Store which was 2 stories high and carried everything. There were three movie theaters- the Apollo, the Empire and the Princess - all of them gone now. (The Atlas which is now a performing arts center
didn’t open until the late thirties.) There were lots of beauty shops and barbershops- altogether a thriving business community.

Our next stop was 919 11th Street, the house Dad and his older sister, Catherine were born in. Peter Cokinos bought this house brand new probably in 1914. The block is a little worn down now, the fluted columns on the houses have been replaced, but it's still standing. Our family moved from here to Macomb Street around 1927.



We nabbed a mail person and continued down memory lane.
A few blocks away, at the corner of Montello and Neal, we found
Samuel Wheatley Elementary. Dad didn't recognize it at first as it had gained two large additions since he went there, but the whole school is empty now. This is where Dad and Aunt Catherine walked to school,
and where they learned to speak English for the first time.

Next it was over to the DC Farmer's Market. ( not to be confused with Eastern Market) A lot of the stalls are boarded up now. Of course, Dad remembers when it was all going full force, though it took us a while to find Litteri's Italian market. The paint has faded, but little else has. changed, and Mom thought she even recognized one of the countermen. After waiting a couple of years for a couple of sandwiches which were actually worth the wait, we picnicked with the carpenter bees at my son Kit’s school, Hardy which is being housed in a building that was the Hamilton School. The school is located on Brentwood Parkway just off Florida Avenue, within walking distance of his grandfather's childhood.

Tin Tray

This was a tin tray that belonged to my mom before she met my dad. It has tulips in the design and the handle had other flowers on it. It says it is made by Rodney Kent. Apparently he made a lot of beaten tin items back in the 1920' and 30's. I also have a round plate by him with no design. I found lots of his work on the internet.

Sometimes ya just strike out!

And you have to wonder, What were “they” thinking when this was filmed? It's not the first time I've come across something like this. And I'm sure it won't be the last! [big sigh] Somewhere on this page is the guy I'm looking for...





Index to Deeds, Union County, Ohio for the “A” surname and “W” given name.Family History Library film 571773 accessed February 24, ..