When Three Speeds are Sufficient

In a world of mountain bikes with dozens of gears, and even internally-geared hubs with 14 speeds, or the Nu-Vinci hubs with their "infinite" gearing (a bit of a misnomer, really), the old 3 Speed can seem hopelessly out of date. Yet, I would have to say that for most average terrain, it is still a superb solution to the gearing question.

The Shimano Nexus 3 Speed set up on my Raleigh Classic Roadster is every inch a no-frills workhorse. It doesn't draw attention to itself and simply does what it is meant to do. In low gear, one can get up some very steep grades. 2nd gear is great for starting off from a dead stop or going up a slight hill/heading into a light wind. High gear is my main cruising gear. At times, it might be nice to have a slightly higher gear for really rolling along (this could be effected by getting a smaller rear cog), but on a utility bike one just doesn't tend to go all that fast anyway, so it really is not something I wish for too much.

When I had an 8 speed Shimano Nexus hub, I found that I really tended to use three gears most of the time, anyway: a low gear, a middle gear, and a high gear. This is true for derailleur setups having 18 or more speeds, as well. While having a three speed takes away some options (and certainly is not appropriate to all situations), it effectively allows for what I tend to do most of the time, anyway--with a hub that weighs considerably less than one with many more speeds.

Three speed gearing systems are very simple to work with. They require a minimum of maintenance (actually, almost none in the case of this Shimano hub), and only the occasional easily-made adjustment. They are excellent for in-town cycling, as you can change gears while stopped as well as when pedaling. The paucity of choices means that I don't actually have to think strategically about gears very much...it is just "L-N-H" (Low, Normal, or High) in my mind, and I can easily pre-plan.

Oddly enough, one of the bonuses to this sort of gearing is auditory. When coasting, the Shimano hub has the familiar sound of pawls rapidly clicking as the hub rotates; but when pedaling it makes the most attractive mechanical susurration...a sort of liquid purring that I find perfectly delightful, rather like the soughing of the reeds down by the river. I never thought I would enjoy the sound of pedaling a bicycle so much!

As a Christian and a priest, I find the number 3 very appropriate and meaningful...it lends a mystical quality to my cycling. I hope that others will come to realize the practicality and the benefits of the old three speed system in today's utility bike.

The Step-Through Frame (formerly the “lady’s” frame): Some thoughts & encouragement

When I purchased my last two bikes (the most recent being a 2012 Raleigh Classic Roadster), both times I chose what has become known as a “step-through” frame. When I was younger, these were universally called a lady’s or a girl’s frame—depending on the size. Few men would be caught riding one.

A lot has changed since then…thank heavens.

First of all, I think sex roles have begun to become less rigidly defined. Second, people who either visit Europe or the utility cycling culture there know that the “step-through” frame is not universally viewed as a woman’s bike design. It is commonly ridden by men, and is the basis for a wide variety of town-type bikes, often with a certain elegance built in to the frame pattern. Perhaps another important reason is practicality: the step-through is a lot easier to deal with when riding with parcels, and in stop-and-go traffic.

One of the concerns I had in moving to the step-through frame was strength. I’m no lightweight. I wondered if my being a fairly solidly-built person would mean I could easily break the frame. I was assured by those selling both bikes that I was nowhere near being in danger of that…especially because these were steel-framed bikes. I certainly haven’t had any problems with either bike in riding around town, even with considerable additional weight from items I’m carrying.

Step-through frames allow a person to mount a bike easily. This is particularly true when carrying packages, bags, &c. on the rear rack. Utility cycling really benefits from that capacity. This alone would seal the deal for me.

The step-through frame allows a person to do something else: to dismount easily and safely. Since switching to a step-through, I have given up counting the times when I was glad (especially in city traffic situations) not to have to deal with a high top tube! I can remember some fairly painful outcomes to life with a diamond frame in the past.

Some people express concern that a bike with a step-through frame will be too wobbly. While I have noticed a bit of this when there is extra weight on the bike (packing a great deal of stuff around…and I do mean a lot), it really has little impact on things. The speeds at which a utility cyclist usually travels negates much of the drawback. Probably the only clear downside with such a frame is when transporting it on a rear-mounted car rack: one has to buy (and use correctly) a special adapter that replaces a top tube. It costs extra, but is easy and reliable.

The step-through frame makes a great deal of sense to me on a practical level…and for the future. I can see myself being willing to cycle about when I get older on such a bike more than a diamond frame. This frame style seems much more forgiving of an aging body.

Being a person committed to the “long haul” in life, this matters to me. I once heard that the best thing one can do for the environment is not to purchase a new car. While I’m not sure that is actually true any longer, I believe the underlying ethic—that long-term purchases and a simple, stable way of life is preferable to rampant consumerism—applies to bikes as well.

I made an initial mistake in buying a bike with the wrong geometry a while back, but when I finally found the right replacement bicycle, I stayed with the step-through frame. I am delighted with the look, the practicality, and the message about the nature of utility cycling it sends.

The Pleasure of Utility Cycling

I was recently making my leisurely way home from the office, noticing the changing neighborhoods and landscape along the way, and realized how happy I was cycling. That struck me. I don’t feel that way driving to and from the parish church; rather, I just want to be where I am going. But cycling is a different matter. I find I allow for more time, and I take in the world around me. When it is raining, the journey is usually a bit more interior, true—but in other types of weather I am genuinely interested in the environment, the people, the life through which I travel.

The French have a word that describes this, albeit for pedestrians: saunter. Sauntering is not just to pass through: it means to take in, to learn something of what it means to live in a place, to soak up the environment and appreciate it and the people there.

Utility cycling makes a form of sauntering possible. Unlike some cyclists, I don’t travel quickly on my way, head down and straining. I move through the topography with a lot of intentionality, varying my route slightly all the time, exploring here and there, greeting people and not infrequently talking with them. The bicycle becomes more than a means of transportation—it actually becomes a way to participate in our world, which is really a low-key act of resistance to the passivity and isolation so common today.

I'm interested in having a conversation on this topic. How does your cycling journey compare with your auto experience? How much does cycling cause you to saunter? What is the impact of cycling on your sense of neighborhood or community?

Sizing up the 2012 Raleigh Classic Roadster

2012 Raleigh Classic Roadster: A Review

Some background…

For someone who has ridden a 1963 Raleigh Sports for much of the last 35 years, the search for an updated version of the bike “concept” I am used to has been disappointing. For a long while, such bikes were not being made.

If I were asked to define that concept, I would list the following points:

• A bike meant for daily use: not primarily for recreation
• A solid, durable steel frame that smooths out the bumps on pavement
• All-weather riding characteristics: fenders and some sort of chain guard
• Internally-geared multi-speed drivetrain for moderate terrain variation
• A generally upright riding characteristic
• A medium-weight bike
• Essentially a “traditional” bike in look and handling 

Being designed along these lines, the old “All Steel” Raleighs were admirable bikes in quite a few ways. The frames were exceptional in efficiency and durability and their ride was smooth and surprisingly fast. But (and this is a major caveat), they suffered from fairly horrible braking, especially in the rain. This was the result of chromed-steel rims (to cut down on rust) with rather lackluster caliper brakes. The combination, especially in wet conditions, could be hair-raising.

There were other drawbacks, especially over time. The old Raleighs had cottered cranks, and while a perfectly effective way of attaching the crank, cotters need tending. Also, it is getting hard to find people who know how to do this work (if the owner doesn’t have the experience and proper tools), and the right cotter pins for the right model bike are often difficult to purchase. If the crank and/or spindle get damaged, that often turns into a much bigger (and expensive) problem. Finally, the older three-speeds Raleigh made were geared pretty high for some people…though I never found them to be uncomfortably so.

When the old Sports line was discontinued (in the 1980’s, I believe), it seemed to be the final curtain for the English-style three speed. Oh, yes…three speeds of various types were still being made, but most were of a very different configuration as well as build quality. Other types of bike were in the ascendancy: the road bike, the mountain bike, the beach cruiser…each became the “in” bike design for a time and such a mundane and practical design as the old light roadster seemed to have no place in an industry marketing its goods primarily to kids, vacationers, and sports enthusiasts.

With the advent of the post-Enron energy industry (sudden spikes of dubious origin), increasingly expensive extraction costs for oil necessitating a higher base price, and the economic downturn of recent years, new pressures have come to bear on this market. All of this met up with such things as environmentalism, the “Cycle Chic” phenomenon, the move to a more human-centered urbanism, and a realization that daily sedentation contributes to many chronic health problems. The market for bicycles not meant for vacation or leisure time has grown rather quickly. The “hybrid” class of bikes—perfect for those cyclists needing a less bent-over design but not wanting to look, well, old—began to crop up in greater numbers in various catalogs. Eventually, the ultimate “non competitive” bike designs (slow, heavy older types such as the Dutch bike) became a topic of conversation—and fashion.

Re-makes of classic European urban cycles suddenly poured forth from factories all over the globe, and among these were classic English designs. Eventually Raleigh—now a very different company than its earlier Nottingham, vertically-integrated self—decided to bring back an updated version of its light Roadster bike (it also makes an updated version of its classic heavy roadsters for sale in England…the “Superbe.”).

The Bike, Itself.

The Classic Roadster is in a number of ways a direct descendant of the old Sports line of bikes.

• It is designed for daily transportation
• It is based on a steel frame (not lugged, but nicely welded)
• It has a decent set of well-made, solid fenders
• Comes with a combination chain and “bash” guard for the front sprocket
• A dependable Shimano three-speed internal hub 
• Quite an upright design, yet still gives one the ability to get up out of the saddle
• A respectable 31 pounds as equipped by the manufacturer
• A fairly elegant, traditional frame design (with some departures) 

But, it has a number of significant improvements, as well:

• Great braking power
• A modern drivetrain, with a very solid crankset
• Lower gearing (fine for in-town riding; great for taking off and cruising)
• Strong, quality alloy rims and great, puncture-resistant tires
• Plentiful braze-ons and eyelets for adding racks, baskets, and other items

There are only a few aspects of this bike that I find a little less than ideal:

• The handlebars are rather wider than they need be (I can only liken it to learning to drive on a 1972 Ford pickup…a boxy sense of security)
• The seat supplied with the bike feels (to me) a bit like riding on a padded bowling ball—this is a highly individual matter, of course!
• For this sort of bike, I wonder if rubber platform pedals might not be wiser. We’ll see how winter and rain combined with these pedals works. The stock pedals do seem a bit slippery to me, even cycling this summer.
• We shall see about the fenders this fall. They look rather too short for me; a front mud flap may be in order. 

In my initial journeys (commuting, in town, some recreational cycling on paths), the Raleigh Roadster “Redux” has done well. It is geared pretty low, so it is not as fast as the old Sports, but it can be made to ride a great deal more upright than my old Sports could. Upright cycling is not only the name of this blog but perhaps one of the most important characteristics I am seeking in a bike. The handling is good (probably would be a bit better if the handlebars were not quite so widely-spaced), the bike rides solidly and with a sure-footed grace that only steel gives, and the bike’s weight and geometry work well for this middle-aged character.

Best of all…my knees don’t give me the slightest back-chat any longer. Whoopee!

My verdict, thus far: I would recommend this bike to anyone looking for a well-made weekday workhorse or a weekend moderate activity bike. As I ride more and experience different terrain/conditions, I’ll explore more about this bike’s character and effectiveness on this blog. Suffice it to say for now that “I’m back in the saddle” again—though I will probably change the current saddle for a Brooks, eventually!

Here are my further reflections on this bike after about a year of use...

Changes

Well, they do say that change is the only constant in this life....

My return to regular urban utility cycling coincided, nearly, with my '63 Raleigh Sports beginning to have some serious problems with the left crank and the spindle in the bottom bracket. Coupled with the poor braking capability (nearly nonexistent in the rain, which does tend to be an issue in these parts), it was getting to be time look to something else. The parts in question are often difficult to find and increasingly expensive...though I am on the look-out for them if you hear of anything!

I had the opportunity to see and ride a splendidly-equipped Dutch bike and immediately took to its fully-upright riding position, as well as its solid construction and excellent components for all-weather cycling. At first all was delightful. Then, gradually, it became clear that my knees are more "English" than "Dutch." The slack seat tube angle on the Dutch bike meant that I could not get up out of the saddle to "pump" when taking off or going uphill, and in general I found that this position was not agreeing with my legs. I tried many different suggestions to remedy the problem, but what made the issue clear was that when I got back on my old Raleigh (after what turned out to be some temporary repairs), the problem went away. Hmmmm.

So, after much consternation, I learned how to use Craigslist and sold my still very new Gazelle. In the meantime, I read about and tested some bikes with the geometry I had learned was more to my liking. I learned a lot. There are a great many options out there now, and it gets a bit overwhelming after a while. But, when it came right down to it, I was looking for something that rode like my old Raleigh.

Eventually, I decided to go to the Raleigh web site and see what they were producing. I had heard that after a time in the bicycle "wilderness," this firm was making good bikes again...though pretty different critters from those with which I was familiar once upon a time. I clicked around their catalog and then suddenly came upon it: their relatively new three speed Classic Roadster. Good heavens.

There it was: an updated version of good ol' Walter (my old Sports). My street testing had shown me that I would never want to go back to a derailleur system for in-town biking. The Raleigh was a three-speed (not Sturmey-Archer anymore...but Shimano's system gets good reviews). The handlebars and riding position puts one pretty upright...even more so than the Sports did, really. The bike came with a decent chain guard (I do miss the full chain case on the Gazelle, though) and fenders (I'm making some mud flaps for them, as they are a bit short). Best of all, the new version has brakes that really work. Jalapeño! This model year one of the colors was a nice glossy black (perfect for a clergyman), and the whole package came in at 31 pounds -- that's about twenty pounds lighter than my Dutch bike. Raleigh had also changed the gearing from the old days, making the entire thing geared down a bit...which is nice for the type of biking I do. All-in-all, I had to test-ride one.

This meant a trip out of town. The cyclery I went to in Portland had one. Using a free afternoon, my wife and I journeyed up to the Metropolis and test rode it. I'll write more about this later. Suffice it to say I was very pleased with it. I was prepared to leave it up there and journey home, considering it all. But, my kind spouse asked me my review: I said it seemed ideal. She said: "Then let's buy it." So, we did.

I've been out on it as much as my travel schedule and needs permit, and I must say that it seems just right.

The reason for this post is not just to tell people that a fairly poky middle-aged guy has purchased a new bike. It is to remind myself and anyone happening on this blog that sometimes we make mistakes in our bicycles. Things don't always work out as planned...and that this can be correctable and result in both some useful learning and some insight. My Dutch bike was "top of the line" in most respects. My new Raleigh is a good bike, but not nearly as luxury. It is, however, probably more in line with my needs and my particular build. While not as fancy, it is more practical. I'm simply not that fancy a person. To have stayed with the Gazelle would have been more about pride than practicality--and that is not what the life I'm committed to is about. Change was needed and accepted. That's a truth applicable to everything in life.

I have not yet named my new "steel steed," but am thinking about it. Until then, I'm plying the streets of our town on the Next Generation of Three Speed human-powered transport, and my knees are much happier.

O all ye sun-breaks and rain-drops, praise the Lord!

I recently enjoyed one of those truly delightful days of being a cycling pastor. I set out in the cool morning air, joining others making their way to the workplace, part of the flow of morning traffic. Drivers on this morning were very mellow. I had a short chat with a man working a stoplight for change. He wanted to know what kind of bike I was riding. We bade each other a good and productive day.

After a mid-week church service and some morning office work (yes, clergy have plenty of that to do), I went to visit a parishioner across the river. The first part of the journey required some raingear. For some people, cycling in the rain is hard to imagine wanting to do. I have my limit in this matter, but a moderate shower (as this was) really isn’t unpleasant at all, especially this time of year. Having a bike built for such weather helps a lot.

To get to the river from church, I have to (eventually) cross a few major thoroughfares. I decided to try a new route, though. It involved a small pedestrian bridge over one of the many streams rolling through our downtown area. I only noticed this bridge in a residential neighborhood near downtown once I began cycling—having driven by it many, many times over the years. It provided a peaceful respite from the traffic. After crossing the creek, I took the opportunity in that quiet venue to take off the now-unnecessary rain pants…the shower had passed.

Getting to the river was not all creeks-and-willows, though. There was one enormously convoluted intersection to traverse (the stoplight mounting for which can almost pass for a modern art sculpture). This was not the best place to cross, really. I walked my bike through the three crosswalks involved, wondering what it would look like to have an easier way across—and thinking how hard/creative a traffic engineer’s life must be.

After threading my way through some alleys, I arrived at the former railway bridge, now converted to a pedestrian/cycling bridge. This is one of our city’s most far-sighted and enjoyable accommodations for ‘active transportation.’

The bridge was originally completed in 1912, and sports many date plates announcing this fact. The rhythm of girders and supports seems (to me) to shout “Look, you future citizens: we did this! Isn’t technology wonderful!” with all the hometown pride and optimistic innocence pre-WWI America era could muster. No matter what the weather, travelling on this bridge makes me feel happier.

As I returned from my pastoral call, the sky was clearing and the air had a clean, smooth quality to it. People were out walking, taking in the break in the showers. A fellow on a mountain bike I passed looked at me and motioned to the river passing silently under us: “Beautiful, huh?” he said. Golden shafts of light briefly shot through the complex metal web above us.

As I pedaled slowly along—I didn’t want this moment to pass too quickly—I recalled the words of a prayer in our church tradition (inherited from our Jewish forebears) used at daybreak, part of which goes:

O ye sun and moon, bless ye the Lord;

    O ye stars of heaven, bless ye the Lord;

O ye showers and dew, bless ye the Lord;

    praise him and magnify him for ever.

I often like to make up new verses to this hymn as I deal with various situations in life. As I glided over the river on my way home, these came to mind:

O ye sunbreaks and rain-drops, bless ye the Lord;

    O ye in-line skaters and joggers, bless ye the Lord;

O ye cyclists and saunterers, bless ye the Lord;

    praise him and magnify him for ever.

Another journey, made at a leisurely pace, with time to consider and enjoy, on my upright bike with a frame design dating to 1892 (older than the bridge!). Another day of experiencing gratitude for the beauty of nature, the people God puts in our life, the creativity of community leadership, and the “perfect machine” that is the bicycle. O, the miracles we unthinkingly pass by each day.

Sermon ended!

Unfinished business: Two examples

As I was making my way back from church yesterday, I took the opportunity to photograph two examples of what I term "unfinished business" in our city's pedestrian/cycling infrastructure. They occur at the ends of a main North-South path (built at great expense) running through the middle of town. In addition to marring a fine project, they each underscore in miniature the problems facing non-auto transportation in our town and society.

An untimely end (it seems to me)

The first example marks the South end of the pathway. Here, a city street, railway, sidewalk, and the pathway all come together (admittedly, a complicated situation). The pathway ends abruptly in ballast rock. The curb is cut, allowing for one to ride from the street (after negotiating the tracks nearby) onto the pathway, but the ballast rock is pretty treacherous for anything other than a mountain bike. Since this pathway is very much built for both pedestrians and cyclists (the bike lane on the street parallel to the pathway ends where the path begins), this awkward transition makes no sense. For pedestrians, it would be like separating segments of sidewalk with a few feet of swamp. Some sort of fix is needed, preferably one that directed bike use of the pathway away from the grade crossing a bit.

The way is narrow...too narrow?

The second example comes from the northern terminus of the same pathway. Here, the transition from pathway to parking lot is marked by a large swinging gate. This is here, obviously, to keep motorists from entering the pathway (this section of the path is not normally open to cars). The practical result is to discourage cycling use, as the space allotted for cyclists to pass through the gate is fairly narrow. While I myself don't have much trouble with it, a moment's inattention could lead to an exciting dismount. This gateway poses a real—but entirely avoidable—hazard. A better solution would be to create an opening wide enough for comfortable simultaneous cycling and pedestrian use, but still too narrow for a car.

All of this sounds pretty whiney, if one sees the car as the only significant form of transportation. I manage both of these small hazards fine most days. But I also know that I’m pretty used to this sort of thing and not easily discouraged. Neither of these examples, translated to city streets, would be tolerated. A solution for each is likely doable, and for not a great deal of money. For that to happen, they need to show up on the community’s radar-screen as the unfinished business they are.

A quality project deserves to be finished well.