Jacqueline in the Light of Day

Hopefully these daylight pictures of Jacqueline will do her more justice than the blurry ones from the previous night. These were taken yesterday in my courtyard. I rode her around Vienna all day in a state of disbelief. She rides wonderfully and the folding basket-panniers are amazingly functional. It does not matter what I am wearing, what I am carrying, and where I need to go - this bicycle is ready for anything.

As mentioned previously, Jacqueline is a lady's Steyr Waffenrad - which is one of the oldest (if not the oldest?) Austrian bicycle manufacturers. In my previous post someone commented that this is "the Austrian version of a Dutch bike", but while it's true that these are generally referred to as "Hollandrads", I do not think that is really the case. Waffenrad was established in 1895, and was influenced by the British roadster manufacturer BSA rather than by anything from the Netherlands. It later became a generic name used to describe a certain kind of bike, and the most popular manufacturer of these was Steyr. I have been told that at one point Austria had over 180 bicycle manufacturers. Sadly, most are no longer in business.

Jacqueline is a 1980s model, though its components are from a variety of time periods. The frame design is a "swan frame": The downtube curves around the front wheel and the top tube forms a complimentary curve. Put together, they form a "swan's neck" shape.

To my eye, the lugwork on the headtube resembles swan as well, though I may be imagining things.

Lugged connector between the downtube and the toptube.

Is the bicycle equivalent of "hood ornament" a "fender ornament"? This bike has one in the shape of a wing-like art deco "W" - appropriated from a German Wanderer bicycle.
Both the headlight and tail light are dynamo powered. I have never ridden a bike with a bottle dynamo (only hub), and based on what I'd heard about old dynamo bottles I expected it to be pretty bad. In fact it works splendidly. There is a distinct hissing sound of the bottle rubbing the tire, but it does not feel any harder to pedal. To de-activate the light during daytime, simply push the bottle sideways away from the tire. To activate it at night, press the release switch and it pops back into place. Easiest lighting system I've ever used, and the bottle feels extremely durable.

The beautiful tear-drop tail light. I very much want one of these for one of my bikes. You can see the little wire coming out from under the fender and running along the rusty stay, zip tied to it. The winged "W" logo is once again from a Wanderer, though the fender itself is native. Notice the holes that have been drilled into the fender for the original dressguards. You can also see the double kickstand (I prefer this one to the Pletscher) and the rear coaster brake hub. It is not a Sturmey Archer; in fact I saw no markings on it at all.

The coaster brake functions extremely well, but the front (hub) brake is mostly decorative - It works when you're stopped at an intersection and want to prevent the bicycle from rolling forward, but doesn't really make an impact when the bicycle is in motion. The coaster brake is plenty though, and I quickly got into the habit of simply ignoring the front brake lever. The hub gears are operated via the "Torpedo" shifter. The gears are widely spaced, similar to the Sturmey Archer AW hub on my Raleigh. Parts of Vienna are quite hilly and I anticipated using the 1st gear a lot - if not getting off the bike altogether in some areas. But to my surprise, I have mostly been using the 3rd and 2nd gears. I by no means have legs of steel, but old 3-speed hubs seem to be magically versatile.

The handlebars are what people today usually refer to as "Porteur" style, but actually they are similar to the version of North Roads that are put on Raleighs with rod brakes. The bar is mostly flat, with the grip areas curving sharpishly upwards and towards the rider. I prefer these to the classic North Road/Albatross bars, which are curvier and more flared to the sides. The plain grips are also surprisingly comfortable. That stuff in front of the handlebars is a folded-up front rack, with a beefy cable lock hanging off it. It all looks like a tangled mess here, but I find it a very comfortable set-up.

Here is the view from the front, with the rack unfolded. The rack is bolted to the stem and strapped to the handlebars with aged leather belts. It is not supported enough to carry heavy loads, but it is a convenient place for things like extra layers of clothing that might be removed and then put back on during a ride.

The rear basket panniers, on the other hand, can pretty much take anything you want to put in them. My large work bag fits into these perfectly, as do grocery bags (2 in each). The ride quality is hardly effected when the basket panniers are loaded. I think I need to install these on one of my bikes. The tires are 28" cream Schwalbe Delta Cruisers, just like on my Raleigh at home. They roll fabulously and swallow cobblestones without a peep - wonderful.

The one thing I would change about this bicycle is the saddle (just looking at these plush Selle Royals is painful!), but that of course is an easy fix (if only I'd brought one of my vintage Brooks from home!). Ideally, I would also like a full chaincase - but the chainguard here has been effective so far.

Overall, I feel that every part of this beautifully rusty bicycle has been extremely well thought out by its owner Wolfgang. Everything from the puncture resistant tires, to the super-stable kickstand, to the self-sustaining lighting set-up, to the roomy collapsible panniers, has a feel of perfectly functional design to it. I love Jacqueline. How will I give her back?

Buddy and Diane Visit Us at The Villages

We had a visit from some of our favorite people in the world: Buddy and Diane. They came during the week that Nathan and I went back down to Wauchula, but luckily they waited for us to get back for a night out with them and Rich and Donna.



We headed down to Wildwood to eat at a place that Rich and Donna had been to before, the Cotillion Southern Cafe.






We had dinner reservations at 4:30. We arrived early enough to peek at the menu that had sitting out front. It looked like a wonderful country cooking menu to me. Once we were inside I could see how unique this place really was. The decorations were so down home and relaxing, right down to our mis-matched dishes at our table. Most importantly was the food there. It was very good! We ordered a variety of dishes and we all agreed that our food was wonderful. I highly recommend this place to anyone in the area.






We enjoyed our night of fun, food and most important of all: Friends!

At the Asylum: an Account of a None Too Sane Patient

Some of you might be wondering where I've been over the last couple of days, either concerned or outraged over my lack of regular posts. Well, if you must know I have been up for the past 48 hours, watching a certain Interview on Oprah again and again, then endlessly analysing it with my internet friends on cycling forums ("Did you see his left eyebrow twitch when he said 'absolutely not' for the 8th time?").




No, I jest. But speaking of analysing facial expressions, readers might recall that I am a psychologist by training and former profession. And you know us psychologists, we love to experiment (that's professional jargon for "mess with people"). Well, last week my PsyPhone - which had grown dusty from lack of use - suddenly rang again, and I was asked to participate in One Last Assignment. "Come on boys," I groaned, wiping bicycle grease off my hands to the sound of jazz in background, "You know that I'm out of that racket." But they wouldn't have it. They needed me. Reluctantly I agreed.




The assignment was in the tradition of theRosenhan experiment. A team of us would infiltrate asylums throughout the country to observe and document their practices - from methods of diagnosis to treatment of inmates. I was assigned to the relatively newArtisan's Asylumin Somerville, Massachusetts.






Armed with notebook and camera, I approached the drab concrete exterior. The need for caution was immediately apparent, given this institution's stealth tactics. Tucked away on a side street lined with warehouses, the enormous building was hidden in plain sight in my very own neighbourhood. Thus it had managed to evade my attention despite being operational for an entire year.






I examined the street conditions to gauge inmate demographics. Bicycles of all types were locked up to every available post. It was clear that I too would require a bicycle, so a to appear a convincing inmate candidate. Luckily, I already had one with me.






At the front desk, several staff members were in place to scrutinise visitors. According to plan, I walked in presenting with vague symptoms of artisanry. Among these I listed: painting, knitting, sewing, persistent compulsions toward bicycle design, and a one time incident of framebuilding. I did not elaborate, I did not exhibit flamboyantly artisanal behaviours, and my hands and clothing were relatively clean. Yet the staff member required no further evidence to admit me. On a notepad I saw them quickly scribble what looked likepsychosis framebuildis, poss. acute. Then another staff member came to escort me.






The inmates call him Dr. Carson, but we never see his face. He, as the other senior staff members, wear welding masks at all times. He appears to be legitimate, even if his interaction tactics unconventional.






Another specialist is called Dr. Skunk. He interacts with inmates exclusively from behind a curtain. He too is purportedlylegitimate, and even runs his own clinic on the side.






Inmates appear well-kempt and not in apparent distress. Possibly they are medicated. Those who have been in the facility long term, enjoy a good degree of freedom. Some rely on two-wheeled devices to assist with mobility around the floor space.






However, new inmates are required to wear green polka dotted metal "gowns," so that they are easily identified by members of staff. This contraption severely limited my speed and range of movements, making note taking and photography challenging.






The interior of the Asylum is vast andlabyrinthine. Endless hallways connect shared spaces designated for inmate activities such as woodworking and metal working.






Private spaces are only partially walled off, allowing staff members to observe inmates.






Primary colours are commonly used.






Evidence of traditional (some might say outdated) treatment models, such as brazing activities, abounds.






Nutrition available on the premises seems limited to beer and coffee, which the inmates are required to brew themselves.






They must also make the tools and dispensers necessary for its production and serving.







Each inmate receives a thermos in which to store hot liquid meals.






Yet I also noted sculptural renditions of used dishes piled up in several communal areas,






which could explain why the premises exhibit signs of insect, rodent, and possibly dragon infestations, in metal and paper form.










A variety of instructional signs guide inmate behaviour. Voluntary compliance rates are considerably higher than I've seen in other institutions.





While I have not noticed any overt force or violence used on the inmates, some visual displays seemed designed as intimidation tactics to keep them under control.






After my tour of the premises, I noted the staff members administering a subtle series of tests to confirm my diagnosis. First, I was exposed to a disassembled vintage Bianchi bicycle in the traditional "celeste" colour scheme while a hidden video camera measured my pupil response.






This procedure was then repeated with tubing, then lugs, then finally some unpainted brazed joints used as stimuli. At the end, Dr. Carson shook his head and jotted down some notes, which I saw to be a confirmation of the initial diagnosis.As far as I can tell, no other steps were taken to probe into my history or consider the appropriateness of my presence at the Asylum.






Following a brief consultation among staff members, my fate was decided. My condition was serious. I was to stay at the Asylum and undergo intensive treatment.






Devises to be used in this course of treatment were shown to me.






Noticing I appeared to have familiarity with them, only confirmed to the staff members the correctness of their diagnosis.





"Much of this is our own technology, made inhouse," Dr. Carson said soothingly. "I believe it will be effective in addressing your needs."







He then showed me other inmates undergoing similar treatment. How happy they were, how engaged, how productive.






Having witnessed everything I came to witness at the Artisan's Asylum, at this stage I attempted to explain myself and depart. But denial is such a common symptom of the condition I was diagnosed with, that this proved to be challenging. I tried to present evidence contradicting my diagnosis. But the staff members only nodded gently. "The pupil test does not lie," said Dr. Carson. From behind his curtain, Dr. Skunk tapped out in Morse code: "you. must. remain."




At length I managed to get to a phone and contacted the project leader of my assignment. He listened to my report. A long silence on the other end then followed."But Dr. [Redacted]..." he finally said, "You have not worked with us for some time. We have no record of such a project as you describe."






What can I say, dear readers. Sometimes life takes us to strange places. Places that exist in pocket universes right under our noses. Places that have brazing and welding facilities (and beginners' workshops, for anyone local interested). I still think the diagnosis is inaccurate, and I am still not sure how I got here. But maybe I will stay a while after all.

California:: Jalama Beach County Park

I got a late start when leaving Morro Bay on March 29th and I only went about 100 miles south. Driving along California Highway 1 near Lompoc, in Santa Barbara County, I noticed a sign for Jalama Beach County Park. It had a campground and I needed a place to stay for the night.

It was somewhat challenging to get to. The sign showed that it was 14 miles down a county road. Wow! What a drive. Talk about a winding road and hilly! After about the first two miles I was ready to turn back, but there was no place to safely turn around, so I continued on. It was definitely worth the drive though...

It was a rocky, sandy beach.

Late afternoon and the fog started rolling in toward the shore.

I had forgotten that there was a railroad along the coast. This bridge was on the north side of the campground. Several passenger trains came through while I was there.

It was extremely windy that day. The two fellows in the background are kite surfing. It was amazing how they jumped the waves and moved in and out along the shore.

They did occasionally fall off their boards, but quickly retrieved them and went back out for more.

Heavy fog was on its way and the kite surfers were still having fun. So am I.

Quotidian

My everyday lemon pie (awaiting topping)

During the news, I sometimes can't resist telling my husband, "I read about that on a blog already!" Although they are obviously just one person's viewpoint, I do enjoy having the opportunity that blogs provide, of getting some news unfiltered. Directly from the source. So I spent some time over the weekend looking at blogs from Israel and Lebanon.

The majority of Middle Eastern blogs are about politics. You can find any number of round-ups of what people there think about this outrage or that. But that's the same stuff that's on tv.

What I was really curious about was how the everyday lives of everyday people were changing. If you are too, you might want to read about...

Haifa's lost dogs

Sightseeing the war

Cleaning out the bomb shelter

Watching them watch you

and of course, there's always time for pizza.