I'm On A Boat...cycle!

I've noticed distinct patterns emerging in my wardrobe since I returned to bicycles. The most obvious being a sharp decrease in non stretch pants and corresponding increase in dresses for the freedom of movement they provide. (I said as much in my little bit of The Girls' Bicycle Handbook.) But another, quite literal pattern has been woven through this shift: A complete mania for stripes. Partly it's due to a proliferation of stripes in the shops but my stripes love has been building for some time, the increased availability has merely allowed me to target my obsession almost exclusively on navy blue and white horizontal, as though I were permanently about to board a yacht. Blame suddenly living by the sea, blame the fact my 'best for summer biking' dress back in Perth was navy blue and white stretch cotton, blame my willing adherence to fashion. Blame what ever you like but something about stripes on a bike (Or on foot) makes me happy to be alive.

Bike Stripes Genesis in Perth.
Stretch 'T-Shirt' material dress from Target, perfect for sweaty, West Australian summers.

I'm not a summertime fan but there's something of an endless summer feeling in navy stripes that I can still appreciate. Less of the sweat, swimsuits and sunburn, more of the blessed hour when the Perth sun finally relented and you could collapse into an outdoor chair with an iced drink, sea breeze and good friends around you. Plus it just makes me feel jaunty.

Bike Stripes in Tasmania.
Heavier cotton because sweat doesn't really happen in the summer here.

Unwilling to let go of the feeling, I've now collected enough navy and white stripes to undertake one of those Capsule Wardrobe Projects and seasonally whittle my attire down to a core of striped items and things that go with stripes. Of course the majority of outfits have to be suitably 'bikeable'. The great thing about Autumn/Winter in Tasmania is that all I really have to do is add tights and some outerwear to all my Spring/Summer outfits.

Not that this fact prevented me from buying a third navy and white striped dress.

When I combine stripes with the polka-dotted Nutcase helmet, I feel like I'm radiating happiness everywhere I ride. I also feel a lot more visible in all weathers. I'll be quite sad when stripes disappear from the fashion landscape.

The Girls' Bicycle Handbook.

An exciting package appeared in my letterbox this week. Actually, two exciting packages appeared and they were all BOOKS.
"But this blog is not about books! It's about bicycles and fat bottoms of the unappealing, Mom-jeans kind," you interject. Because you like to cut me deep.

But! (Butt?) One book was about both Bicycles and tangentially, Fat Bottoms. I received a copy because my Fat Bottom is IN IT and 'IT' is a lovely slice of publishing entitled The Girls' Bicycle Handbook by Caz Nicklin of London Cycle Chic.

Here it is nestled in some ivy because lord knows we can't look
at anything now unless it's Instagrammed within an inch of reality.

It's subtitled Everything You Need To Know About Life On Two Wheels because it contains exactly that if you are a girl person who rides a bike or would like to get back on her bike without lycra or racing anybody to work. (Although there's a section about that if you want to!)

The Handbook blends bicycles, history, fashion, advice, and stories into a healthful smoothie of informative reading and pleasant pictures. It's like your favourite bicycle blogs in physical format, quite literally as many Lady Bicycle Bloggers of all stripes are to be found within. The virtual, pink-spoked circle has crossed over. But the bulk of the book is a 'How To' garnered from Caz's experience as an everyday cyclist and purveyor of bicycle chic. The focus is firmly on cycling for transportation and incorporating your bicycle into your life without drastically changing your style or identity. I was very pleased to see the section on maintenance as this is something I've wanted to learn more of ever since I became reacquainted with bicycles. It begins with the most basic procedures like how to pump up your tyres and ends with things you can do to spend less time and money at the LBS so even if you know NOTHING, you can start here.

Common Noises and What They Mean is a very useful subsection of this.

The guide is comprehensive enough that if you are yet to acquire the two wheels of the subtitle, there's advice on finding the right bike. If like myself you are already 'rollin' and subsequently doused in a tide of 'hatin', there is still plenty to enjoy with tales from women around the world, women biking with families, women who have gone to the next level for fitness or even… Yes. Here be the rarest of Roadies - The Lady Lycra. Softly calling from the pink-washed finish line, "One of us. One of us!"

The Girls' Bicycle Handbook officially launches on April 3rd, 2014 and is currently available for pre-order here at London Cycle Chic. (Fat Bottom not required.)

More ivy and the other books that arrived this week.
#Poseur

Nutcases and Australians Go Out in the Midday Sun.

Several heatwaves have swept Australia since Christmas so I thought it might be optimum time to test out the comfort of my new helmet. One of the reasons I'd been a bit reluctant to buy a 'full' style helmet was because Ginger had his stormtrooper version and had proclaimed it to be both heavy and HOT.

"Ve have vays oft making you bicycle!"

When the Nutcase Simi Mini Dots arrived I was pleased with its lightness but had no idea how it would feel in summer. I had resolved to find out ASAP but ended up only doing a short journey the first hot day. I waited a bit for a proper trial through the sun scorched paddocks between Ulverstone and Turners Beach.

First trip, The Nutcase. And her new helmet.

Just a short trip, coffee and picking up some shopping.

Despite the sea breeze the route is one of direct sun with little to no overhead trees and many wind breaks so it was a good sample of sweaty bike conditions in the very high 20s (Celsius. About 82 Farenheit). Also I am bad at forgetting to go slow once the joy of being on a bicycle hits me. It was fairly spectacular weather and we set off around midday, passing many happy Tasmanians leaping into the sparkling Leven river, enjoying the Ulverstone water-slide or frolicking on the beaches. I was more than a little sorry I had not brought my bathers.

Bathers regret at Ulverstone Surf Club.

Ulverstone Surf Club renovation has been completed and now offers a bank of unisex toilets as well as… A BIKE RACK! Wonders will never cease. Now it just needs a drink fountain and it will be the perfect pit-stop for everybody.

Ginger's Trek pretending to lock-up.

We cycled out to Le Mar café, enjoyed an icy drink in their alfresco area and zipped back. At no point did I think to myself, 'This helmet is too heavy/hot!'. It seemed to provide just as much ventilation as my other helmet, ie 'an okay amount when you factor in lots of dark hair attracting heat to your head'. The padded chin strap felt a lot more comfortable than my other helmet, not at all sweaty and the visor seemed to cut more sun. As always in an Australian summer, the best air-conditioning is constant movement paired with the occasional sea breeze. And of course I felt jaunty in my polka dots as well as more visible. I'm officially satisfied with my Nutcase purchase and would do so again.

Duck and Cover! (It's a post about Helmets.)

Just not about the politics of helmets because I'm provocative but I'm not entirely stupid. Bicycle helmets are compulsory in Australia. That is the beginning and end of relevant information regarding this post and I assign no judgement one way or the other. So with that in mind:

I finally got my hands on (and head under) a Nutcase Simi Mini Dots Helmet!

Another victory for truth in labelling.
And taking pictures in your pyjamas.

I've wanted a higher visibility helmet for use with the slightly too understated black Pashley for quite some time. I've also wanted to experience a less 'sporty' style helmet. (Unless you count looking like a deranged gymkhana escapee as sporty.) Not to mention the convenience of having a helmet with each bicycle now that they are stored in two separate locations. Then there's the most important variable: The fact that a red and white polkadot helmet is as cute as a mutant ladybug's behind! After focussing my consumer lust on this particular helmet I was pleased to discover Ruthy's Rides as an online Australian distributor of Nutcase. Then I was extra pleased to discover they were having a sale on the latest models. I dutifully measured my head and placed my order just before Christmas.

When it arrived I was amused to discover the cardboard fit instructions came '…with Punch-out Squirrel'. I popped and assembled and loled:

Well played, brand engineers.

The Nutcase also came with a green bracelet proclaiming 'I Love My Brain' and the usual foam inserts for custom fit, also screaming 'I LOVE MY BRAIN'. It was strange to me how much the packaging seemed intent on making me feel smug about my mostly utilitarian purchase until I remembered that it comes from a country where helmets are not compulsory.

I haven't had a chance to ride with it yet but superficially I'm pretty impressed with the quality of the Nutcase. It's very light, it will definitely make me more visible with colour and reflective elements, the magnetic buckle is a revelation worth the cost (No danger of pinching your neck!). Even the foam inserts seem more luxurious than the ones in my cheaper helmet. The visor easily clips on and off for the fickle amongst us and it also features the same back of the head 'turn to tighten' device as my other helmet (a boon for a fast, secure fit). I'll be interested to find out just how much hotter this style of helmet turns out to be, if at all. The large ventilation holes are numerous and the whole thing is surprisingly weightless but it's high summer here in Tasmania and the country-wide heatwave has even made it to our little island so it will soon have a trial by fire. This nutcase will report back on that Nutcase in due time.

Hittin' The Ground. (Why I hate the Pashley Princess Kickstand)

Anybody who owns a factory standard Pashley can attest to two things:

1. The Pashley (Princess Sovereign) is a heavy bicycle, and

2. The included kickstand is six kinds of incapable of dealing with fact number 1.

Even without any baskets, without any front or rear load, the included single kickstand just cannot be relied upon no matter how much careful front wheel skewing you may take as a precaution. And the second you add any kind of cargo you'd better start leaning it against a wall or handing it off to a friend if you want to let go of it for a minute. As you can imagine, this makes attaching said cargo an exercise in bullshit if you are travelling alone. All the more frustrating considering the included back rack is rated to carry a child seat! Better have great dental coverage for your toddler before you trust that single kickstand.

Yes, many a time in the first blush of Pashley ownership did I blithely turn my back only to hear the tell-tale sound of gravity beating the kickstand into submission. It's gotten so I am adept at accurately identifying potential kick-stand failure scenarios and with a special kind of vigilance specific to the anal retentive I was enjoying a long period of incident free Pashley ownership - Until last weekend, when the Pashley surprised me with a brand new kind of failure.

I was putting the bicycle away after an invigoratingly chilly 20km through North West Tasmanian coastal farm lands (goose shit included). I began the Pashley propstand/kickstand ritual which is now automatic.

Rural bike path hazards.

Pictured: Almost as much shit as you'll get from the Pashley kickstand.

Standing on the left of the cargo-free bicycle, I deployed the kickstand on solid ground to the right. I then positioned the front wheel to 'maximum skew' so that it could not independently skew itself and send the bike toppling over towards me. I gave the whole thing a bit of a jiggle to make sure it was sturdy, held it steady for a moment and then slowly let go to unlock the door. (I have to do this every. Single. Time.) It was then I heard that familiar warning creak. I quickly turned to catch the Pashley, expecting to see it bearing down on me as usual but as I grasped the left grip I realised it was falling away from me, the bloody useless kickstand having failed to fulfil the most fundamental requirement of the single kickstand/bicycle contract. In a final indignity, my quick reflexes did indeed allow me to catch the bike by the handlebars but only so that I could slow its descent and press the front tyre against my shin where the spinning wheel did a little burn-out on my leg. I was glad to be wearing thick tights or I would have lost some skin. I was compelled to photograph its shame:

"You're embarrassing yourself."

It is now my mission to outfit the Pashley with an annoyingly costly and unavailable locally double kickstand but I do so with a disgruntled sigh, resenting the fact that it did not come with one when the weight and potential for human (and inanimate) cargo so obviously requires something more than currently provided!

Last of the Summer Whine.

I am not a hot weather human. It has taken moving as far away from the baking pavements of Perth as I possibly could without changing countries for me to view the sun as something I may occasionally enjoy rather than constantly fear. Unfortunately, Tasmania had a record breaking heat wave in January with Hobart sweating through 42 degree, bush-fire-filled days while I was down there. Fortunately for me, ordinarily I live in the magical weather bubble of the North West Coast where temperatures never exceed 30 degrees celsius nor drop far below zero. So once I was back in my bubble, I declared we should take advantage of the kinder, gentler summer and embark upon a lazy ride complete with copious refreshments, minor photography and incidental product review.

The 'incidental product review' was the Memories Bottle baskets.

They proved quite excellent.

Doing my part for Tasmanian population growth, I imported my immediate family from Perth in October 2012 and left them to ferment in the North coast splendor of Ulverstone. Once they were sufficiently boozy, I forced them to join me and Ginger on a summer ride to Le Mar café at Turners Beach. This was our first high summer in Tasmania and we made the trip on a deliciously temperate mid 20s day with barely a cloud in the sky. My Mother, Father and Brother all brought their bicycles with them from WA and had a history of two-wheeled transportation so I did not anticipate any problems. Cue problems.

It seems the family that rides together, gets a sore backside together. I forgot that it had been some years since my Mother had used her bicycle for daily transportation, she also had a wrist injury that day which made squeezing the brakes difficult. My Brother was primed having already explored the path alone. My Father approached it with the enthusiasm of an excitable Boy Scout, albeit a Boy Scout with an aged pension. Ginger and I drove our bikes (it always pains me to type that, we never had cause to in WA because of a more comprehensive infrastructure) to Ulverstone and were greeted by the cheerful sight of a rag-tag bunch of family cycles waiting in the sun.

After a fair measure of both dilly and dally about tyre pressure, helmets and attire I led the charge to the nearby path, freewheeling gleefully down to the Leven River. With a sea breeze blowing, the cloudless sky yielded perfection. My only complaint at that time was that my brimmed hat could not be worn. The sad little visor on my helmet did nothing to keep the sun off my face, I had to hope sunscreen was enough.

Green lingered in some fields, others were completely yellow.

Ginger's Classic Al by the River Forth.

Brother, bicycles.

The caravan parks on the way to the main path were full of caravans, a thing we had never before seen. Lots of families were camped right next to the beach, revelling in the hot sun. When the wind dropped, it was indeed hot. Not Perth hot, not 40+ record breaking hot but enough that you started wishing for the wind to return. I knew that when we stopped we'd actually have to cool down, something I had not needed to consider since we left WA. We arrived at Le Mar with minimal fuss and everybody ordered a cold drink and a hearty lunch. Anywhere with an all day breakfast is my kind of place and the pancake stack was monstrous, piled high with Tasmanian berries.

Father wears his helmet by the River Forth, dares the environment to give him a head injury.

Dry fields, fat bottoms, plenty of sun.

A quick stop at the public toilets near The Gables and then we set off for home. This is where saddle fatigue and sun caught up with us. Once you've passed it, it's very easy to forget the buttock adjustment period from the first couple of times you exceed a few kilometres. Even with a cushy seat (on bicycle and yourself!) the sitz bone will eventually have a say. And it will most likely say, "My ARSE!" Thus began an increasingly slow journey home with a rest stop at every bench along the path so that my Mother could take time off from her saddle and my Father (despite not being as sore or tired) could remind us that he was over 70 years old. Of course at every rest stop I became subject to the sun as the lack of movement and shade made me overly toasty. Ginger and Brother were given leave to go on ahead while I dutifully stayed behind, vowing to revise my acceptable maximum temperature to 22 degrees on cloudless days. Eventually the town was reached but the jolly air with which we'd set out was in danger of souring so I made a lone detour to the supermarket where I took full advantage of my new baskets and gathered afternoon tea supplies.

Pictured: Mood souring.

Solution: Food as reward.

A round of turkish delight flavoured cupcakes and a pot of tea soon had saddles a distant memory. My parents even declared they'd like to do the path again which just goes to prove that sugar cures everything.

Ring My Bell.

Until I became the owner of a Pashley Princess Sovereign, I'd never really thought about bicycle bells within any context other than practicality. A bell is just a bell, right? It warns people that you are behind them and that's that - or so I thought. Riding the Pashley showed me that your bell can actually have a significant influence on your ride quality and impact your mood.

As cyclists we all try (at least I'm pretending that is the case) to be courteous users of any shared paths we have the privilege of using. I know I'm not alone in feeling some minor dread when I see a pair of headphones in the ears of the person I am about to pass because it invariably means they will not hear my bell regardless of tone or volume. In those cases I always try to pass them a bit slowly and VERY predictably, hoping that their peripheral vision will sense movement in time for me not to startle them. For all other shared path traffic the bell is your first impression, a polite cough clearing the way for your dick-move: Overtaking.

You know how it goes: You wait until you're in hearing range, you ring your little bell, the person hears and then reacts. You pass, you thank them, they might have a facial expression about it, you might have a facial expression about their facial expression. Either way, the sound of your bell can soothe their inconvenience or enhance their annoyance and I did not realise just how much until I owned what is gloriously described as a 'Ding-Dong' bell.

Interpret this how you will but 'traditional' women's bikes are generally more likely to come with a bell included. Road bikes of course come with nothing (a massive oversight considering their potential speed) because the weight of a bell might add milliseconds to a Roadie's Strava. We all no doubt recall the bicycle bell of childhood, your basic 'Ring Ring' sound with mysterious rotating bits internally providing noise and eventually rusting to impotence. Since then bells have levelled up and you may purchase anything from the cheap Ring-Ring kind to crazy-pricey but elegant Japanese copper bells that sound like they should signal the end of an intensely expensive meditation retreat. Rather than the Ring-Ring variety, included bells on modern entry level bicycles now pretty much all look like the bell that came with my Schwinn Jenny:

It's a thumb strike style, no internal moving parts to get jammed like the bell on my childhood bicycle. You thumb down, the plastic bit strikes the metal and you get a trifling 'Ting Ting' of perfunctory politeness, like so:

Thus I never thought about the effect my bell was having on the mood of the people I was passing. Some smiled, some remained neutral but they didn't end up in my spokes so I was happy. Then I experienced the Pashley Ding-Dong bell:

The first time I took it out for a ride on a busy Perth shared path, I noticed two things. 1. It was a lot louder and clearer as an indicator of my presence so I could signal earlier and, 2. I received a marked increase in pleasantries from the strangers I was overtaking.

Astonishingly, a few people even THANKED ME as I passed. And I only had one tit out! It made my passage through the city so pleasant that I felt suffused with community spirit even after my journey ended. This happened over and over every time I was on the Pashley. Most uncharacteristically, I started to feel like a ray of sunshine every time I rang the bell. It was like having a magic wand to make everybody more amenable.

After the success of the ding-dong Pashley and after moving to Tasmania I was excited to find a similar bell in unique Latrobe situated gift shop, Reliquaire. Imagine if the cleanest, most organised hoarders in the world owned a delightful gift shop and let you go on treasure hunts through it - That is Reliquaire and all visitors to Tasmania should check it out. (You're welcome, Tasmanian Tourism.) Thinking it would be an excellent upgrade for the Jenny, I ponied up just under $30 for the splendid bell and looked forward to gracing my fellow humans with some ding-dong magic. (Not to be confused with 'Dong Magic', which I think is what Harry Potter was about?)

The German 'Liix' Ding-Dong.
Electra also make giant ding-dong bells.

And for the most part it worked just the same. People would hear the pleasant ring and I would be greeted with surprise and sometimes a smile or even a 'thank you'. But for some people, the bicycle bell is a declaration of war. I don't think of the bell as being primarily a car-horn substitute - after all, you don't honk your horn when overtaking. But halfway through writing this post I was forced for the first time to use my bell as an immediate warning to a stranger who consequently viewed it as an offensive act of aggression. It was a man I had noticed standing still just next to the start of a shared path, staring intently at his phone. Suddenly, without looking up he stepped out 90 degrees to the flow of people and bicycles, timed perfectly to collide with my moving front wheel. I was startled and had a split second to react - reflexively, I almost braked but stopped myself as it would have created a different collision involving me and a car. Meanwhile, my thumb made it to the bell trigger even as my mouth opened to exclaim an, "Oh!" of warning/surprise. I hated to shock him but I hated even more to risk breaking his toes. His peripheral vision was alerted when we were about 2 inches apart and he looked up just as my lovely new bell was ding-donging (I could not un-press it at that point), stopping just in time to avoid my bike and for my bike to avoid larger prey. But from his point of view his awareness happening a microsecond before the bell meant I should not have used it and he shouted, "You don't have to ring your bell AT me!"

Actually, Dude. This one time? I think I do.

A Tisket, A Tasket, There's Disappointment in my Basket.

As much as I adore my 'Pashley Princess Sovereign in Buckingham Black', today I finally had to admit to myself that it has a problem. And I don't refer to the notoriously unstable kickstand - We all know about that. This problem might be unique to my Pashley (a bike shop problem) or it could be widespread (a manufacturing problem), I have no real way of knowing. A Google image search of fellow Pashley Princesses shows mixed results. My problem is this:

Can you see it? Perhaps if I put this here. Can you spot the difference?

Image from http://pashley.pl

 It's the damned basket. Look at the gaping chasm between original basket and basket rest, even with the straps extended to full length:

"You think you're cool with this but it's like bamboo under your fingernails! HAHAHA!" - The Pashley

As the shop where I bought the Pashley only offered one frame size I do not know whether the basket sizes up with each frame (but I have a medium, anyway - not a small!) or of this is an export thing or a cost cutting measure. All I know is that the basket is barely large enough to carry a modest handbag and that's part of the reason why I swapped it for a beefy Bontrager clip-on. It's the gap I find most annoying. It's such a pretty bicycle, so well proportioned and carefully accessorised until you get to the inadequate basket. A basket so puny, it looks like an after-thought.

I'd love to buy a properly giant, leather strapped basket to replace it. Unfortunately there is no way to source that locally and it's sort of hard to find web sites that will list the dimensions of any wicker baskets they might be selling. It's even harder to find a 'D' shaped basket like the Pashley original. One day I hope to remedy this problem but for now I'll keep hauling in the Bontrager, which despite being a handlebar mounted clip-on comes so close to touching the basket support that it gives the illusion of correct 'basketude'. Until then I'll put my disappointment and the original basket on a shelf.

Basil Memories Bottle Basket.

Since I rejoined the bicycling world I've been trying to acquire Basil brand carriers for the Schwinn. Basil is the accessories arm of Royal Dutch Gazelle and though they are not the cheapest bike accessories, the few products I've seen in person are well designed and constructed. Sadly they are also hard to find in Perth. Over the course of several bike shops I'd managed to see some of the more restrained (Black or grey) Basil panniers in double and single form but rarely a patterned one and no baskets were to be found despite the Basil Australia online catalogue being full of portaging delights. After moving to Tasmania, Ginger and I quickly decided upon our preferred local bike shop in Ulverstone. The staff are friendly and knowledgeable but more importantly the shop display featured upright bicycles as prominently as it did road bikes. After a chat about different bicycle brands I discovered that despite not stocking them as standard equipment, the Ulverstone shop was absolutely willing to order in any Basil products I wished to buy. I knew I could purchase Basil online but I wanted to support my local economy so I ordered a couple of the cheaper Basil baskets, the wire framed Basil Memories Bottle basket. I'd really wanted the cool-toned turquoise mint colour but that was not available in Australia, I contemplated a clashing green but eventually went for a contrast. I'm rather glad because they are an incredibly jolly shade of yellow.

Basil Memories Bottle Basket in yellow.

I suppose that the Bottle basket is so named because of the milk bottle shapes on the outer side, presumably because the whole thing is reminiscent of a milkman's basket? The Memories Bottle is thick and sturdy powder coated metal with a finger shaped 'comfort grip' on the handle. I wanted something that could potentially carry groceries or other medium heavy items. I imagine a standard reusable shopping bag would line them quite neatly. The baskets attach to any rear rack via built in hooks. I simply slipped them onto my bike and trusted them to stay in place. They did, even when faced with some hefty curb drops. The other advantage of the hook attachment is that when my bike is in storage the baskets whip off with no effort and sit neatly stacked on a shelf while the Jenny cosies up to our other bikes all nice and tidy.

You could easily elastic strap them to a semi-permanent attachment or even
cable tie them if you are very cautious but they seem well designed to stay.

I took the baskets out for a 15km group round trip on a mid-summer day, jettisoning my usual wicker front basket. Being the one with most carrying capacity I was inevitably charged with taking the bike lock as well as my large camera case and a big beach bag I was using as a handbag.

I was very pleased with the baskets and did a spot of grocery shopping on the way home. If I'd been buying more than one item I would have simply plucked a basket from the rack and carried it around the supermarket. The Bottle Memories did not present any problems in terms of back wheel real estate, I carefully noted the distance between my heel and the basket corner - ample room as pictured and that was with the basket not as far back as it could be. I did kick one the first time I pushed off but my poor bike handling skills do not count as a design defect. The only real difficulty I experienced was forgetting that my bike suddenly had a different rear width, I scraped the left basket against a low stone wall as I was cornering but upon inspection the powder coating remained perfect.

If only the full range of Basil baskets was available in Australia, I'm so satisfied with the Memories mix of utilitarian practicality and whimsy that I would gladly go Basil Memories Bonkers on the Schwinn and get the front transport basket too. It's definitely got me planning my next Basil purchase, anyway.

I'm Blue (Da-boo-dee-round the bum) AKA How to Clean a White Bicycle Seat

The Schwinn Jenny 7 speed is a cute looking bicycle. A large portion of this cuteness may be attributed to the crisp, white contrasting details of the saddle and grips. Unfortunately, white saddles on 'every day clothes' bicycles come with a major flaw: Everyday clothes are not as colourfast as athletics specific ones. Particularly if you ride in jeans. The Schwinn saddle was holding up well against my rear denim attack…until I bought a new pair of jeans. After one ride, the formerly still white-ish saddle of the Jenny transformed into a mouldy looking Smurf bukkake. E.g.

Think about it.

So how do you keep your white bike seat clean?! I tried cleaning it with a soapy damp cloth. I tried dish washing detergent. I tried gentle, non-destructive, non submerging methods of cleaning. No dice. Remembering my distant, childhood time in the 1980s when all sneakers (trainers/kicks/tennis shoes/what ever you kids are calling them) were made of vinyl, I recalled the existence of 'Sneaker Whitener' and wondered if it might help my poor saddle. I bought a sponge-tipped applicator of horrific smelling chemicals and went for it. (I'm not a 'patch test' kind of gal.) It stunk out a room of my house, made me cough and worst of all - did nothing to erase the mental image of Papa Smurf getting his freak on. I figured I was stuck with the mottled look and hoped that if I rubbed my denim clad butt on it enough, it might at least even out.

After moving to Tasmania - and long after I had stopped caring about the whiteness of my saddle, I was propping up the Jenny outside my local fish and chip shop when a passing stranger did a massive double-take at the state of my saddle. By this stage the blue had spread to the back of the seat around the 'S' (Fat bottom, hello.) and it really gave the visual impression of 'moistness' despite being dry. I could see them glance at my groin, attributing all sorts of yeasty horrors to my undercarriage. I wondered if perhaps it was time to revisit saddle whitening.

Since my first attempts I had fallen in love with a cleaning product called 'Magic Eraser'. Ostensibly marketed for removal of juvenile creative self expression from the walls of your lounge room, Magic Eraser is a thing of beauty and grace which I found had many unofficial applications relevant to my quest to see our bond returned when moving from Perth. (Which it was in full, the Landlady even asking if we had hired professionals, such was the sparkling condition of the house.) Magic Eraser. Learn it. Love it. This is not a sponsored message. Anyway, I decided to put its magic to the test and give the saddle another pass. As close to a patch test as I'll ever get, I started on the back around the 'S'. Immediate success. So I moved to the top. There was smearing and some drips from the eraser as the indigo dye lifted away, I ended up using a dry cloth to immediately wipe areas as they became clean.

I did this in the middle of the night, hence the awful phone pictures.

I used two small blocks of Magic Eraser, from an 8 pack.

Both blocks ended up disintegrated blue blobs from the friction.
(Aaaand we're back to the Smurfs again.)

Once I had finished two little blocks of eraser, I wiped the seat over with a plain cloth dampened with tap water (I didn't want eraser residue to linger) and left it to dry. But not before taking these last two pictures. I was impressed with the results. Though the saddle is not back to a factory whiteness, it now simply looks vaguely used rather than festering. I may try another pass in the future to see just how white I can get it. And I now no longer fear my bottom wreaking havoc on the snowy seat of the Jenny.

Retro Raspberry Beret.

What a Bicycle-Chic treat! Drooled over in Melbourne CBD; a German Retrovelo in classic red. I forgot to see how many gears it had so I don't know if it's a 'Klara' or Paula' (And I always feel weird getting too close to strange bicycles.) but both models have the same lovely lights, flirty fenders, cushioning cream Schwalbe tyres and every other disturbingly sexual alliteration one might wish to apply to an inanimate object. Looks like a Basil 'Beauty Shopper' rattan look basket with the stem mounted quick release rather than the more common handlebar attachment. In fact, they seem to have removed the headlight in favour of the basket! Looking at the Retrovelo website, the front light comes mounted very high up, directly where the basket mount on this bicycle is sitting - so I can see they would have conflicted. How lucky for me that the Pashley light was already positioned to accommodate a basket. It seems a bit myopic of Retrovelo to do otherwise.

I've yet to try a bicycle with balloon tyres, it's on my list of future bicycle experiences. I bet it makes for a smoother inner city ride. Other features of note include the warmly hued Brooks saddle, colour matched grips and the rear rack sprayed the same colour as the frame, something I always find extra appealing. The Retrovelo site says that the rack is an optional item. Well, good decision, Person Who Bought This Bicycle! I hope it was still there when you returned.

According to the Retrovelo website, there is but a single dealer in Australia - In Victoria of course. Perhaps one day I'll get a test-ride. Until then, I can only suffer some serious bicycle envy. Love that red.

Budget Bicycle Makeover.

When a Flower Child friend made a split second decision to buy a bike from ebay (The auction had less than a minute to go!) Ginger Man and I were excited at the thought of social bike adventures. The bicycle was an old steel beach cruiser being sold 'as is' and seemed like an okay deal for the low price. Somewhat ironically, the seller lived on the outskirts of Perth, nowhere near a beach - so Ginger and Hippie friend took a ute drive out to collect. It was almost satisfactory from a mechanical point of view (though some things wanted tightening) but on the style front it had definitely seen better days. The seat was old and split with rusted springs, there was no chain guard and it was sporting two completely different tyres. Sadly, our friend did not have money to spare on such trivial things as aesthetics. It was rideable and that was all that mattered. To everyone except Ginger, who was secretly longing for a project. Very soon after acquiring her bicycle, Hippie friend had to travel interstate and while she was gone, Ginger hatched a diabolical plan to bikenap and improve the cruiser.

The very hefty cruiser in bought condition. I'd love to know how old it is, it weighs a tonne.
Note mismatched tyres which were also pretty wrecked from going over gumnuts.

The trouble was, we didn't have much money to throw around either - having bought our own bicycles of late. Ginger prioritised basic maintenance jobs and upgrades according to what we could afford. Firstly, the handlebars were not secure; the thread holding them in place had been stripped and they would slowly collapse downwards when in motion. Thankfully, Dads of a certain age with many bits of advice and tools were available as a resource. We took the cruiser to my parent's house, on top of a hill. The driveway became an outdoor, non-literal crash-course in bicycle maintenance. My Father, relishing the challenge of the handlebars, fabricated something to secure them inside the head tube - I wish I could be more specific but I missed that part of proceedings. I can guarantee it was a slightly insane yet workable solution and with my Father, it's often better not to ask. Especially as when I walked past during the problem solving phase, I heard him wishing he had an empty aluminium soft drink can. This is a man who built his own tone generating oscillator for fun and spends his days 'improving' various household objects that are in fact doing just fine sans improvements. Ginger set to work adjusting the brakes (which had been knocked out of alignment sometime in the past) under the guidance of my Father, learning as he went. They then took turns testing them downhill. Fortunately, they worked. The bicycle returned to our house where Ginger washed and polished every part of it he could, cleaning and lubing the chain.

The cruiser actually came with these caps. A quick way to personalise your bicycle!
I found a whole page of novelty valve caps here. They average $6 a pair.

With the mechanics out of the way it was time to look at other elements. We decided that if nothing else, we should put matching tyres on it and try to find a chain guard. This seemed like an impossible task, chain guards are not generally sold separately and casually in bicycle shops. At least not in Australia. Fortunately, we knew of a likely place in bicycle workshop/retail outlet Pal & Panther. They specialise in selling reconditioned Indi 500 bicycles and offer powder coating to order along with other bits and pieces. A singularity in Roadie-saturated Perth. Though their clients are all cool suburban types chasing nostalgia, the men of Pal & Panther are the antithesis of hipster. Just a couple of guys tinkering with bikes because they enjoy it and have done so for years. Not an ironic facial hair between them. The man in charge told us he had bought the business from the original owner who had hired him in his youth. Pal & Panther also deal with motorcycles (albeit in an adjoining building with different employees), probably carrying the financial load during the bicycle deficit of the late 20th Century. As Perth boomed and the suburb transformed into hot property, the hipsters arrived, opening gourmet taco shops and boutiques around the little bike shop. Suddenly, their work was in demand. (Although I've been told they've since moved to a place with more parking, sort of ending an era.)

The cruiser was crying out for some whitewall balloon tyres so we bought some. Sadly, the Hippie-friendly hibiscus tread pattern tyres we saw online were out of reach but Pal & Panther had a set with a wavy tread pattern and whitewall balloons of any kind look great on a cruiser, with the added advantage that they cushion the bumps. They cost $36 each (Not the pair!), the most expensive item in our budget makeover. We asked if they sold chain guards, not expecting an affirmative but we were in luck! Although we were told we'd probably have trouble attaching it. Ginger figured we could rig something up with cable ties if we got desperate. The chain guard was actually quite pretty, not the utilitarian item I had expected. Certainly excellent for about $15. We ended up attaching it with silver-toned metal cable ties to match, neatly finished and filed. The prop you can see at the front actually came with the guard. Otherwise it was a neat method of attachment.

Note the groove detailing. Also shown, new tyres!

We bought one more item from Pal & Panther, a bog-standard black metal rear basket for about $25. Ugly but very functional and tough. The cruiser was old enough that the back rack was a solid metal platform with no way of attaching modern quick release baskets. The black metal one we purchased came with bolts and plates to attach it semi-permanently underneath without drilling holes. Our bike shop budget was just about blown but we still needed a new seat, a light and of course, a bell. We headed to K-Mart because we knew they had a bicycle section. There we managed to pick up a completely boring but functional Schwinn comfort saddle for $20. We also bought a bottle cage and battery powered light for approximately $4 each and a bell for about $2.

Bell, Light, Weed.

The bicycle had evolved almost as far as we could take it. Except the ugly basket was bothering me. We made one last trip to a craft shop and I dug through the bargain ribbon, picking up dollar rolls, a couple of metres of some patterned stuff, a bit of piping and even a fake flower although I had no idea what I was going to do with it. All I had was a fair idea of my Hippie friend's aesthetic and a lot of superglue. Then I sat down with the ugly (and it turned out, not entirely symmetrical) basket and started weaving and gluing and weaving some more until my fingers were crusted with adhesive. The results were so:

Terrible photography…

because at this point…

I was pretty high on superglue, to be honest.

At last, we put it all together. We bolted the basket onto the rack as far back as we could, allowing for butt-space behind the low positioned saddle (I measured with my own fat bottom to ensure clearance) and throwing the flower into it because I'm not the hippie in this equation. For a total of about $140, it was now both functional and cheerful. More importantly, our friend loved it and we went for some pleasant trips together. Without fancy tread whitewalls, we could have had tyres at half the price or less, so a budget bicycle makeover is a lot closer than you think. Something to consider if you're feeling disheartened by your own bike. It might be as simple as a set of novelty valve caps.