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.

Pashley Picnic.

Before high-tailing it across the Tasman, Ginger and I had the rare opportunity of using bicycle transportation during the middle of the day without the 6 litres of sweat which usually accompanies anything more strenuous than getting up from the sofa during a Perth summer. There was a 'Jazz Picnic' being held by the river, less than three kilometres from our house, at Bayswater Riverside Gardens. Usually we would walk that distance but it was breezy and bright outside and perfect for a Saturday morning bicycle. It was also a lot easier to bring food if we cycled. So, Jazz Picnic. Deciding that sounded suitably pretentious an event to bicycle towards, we slathered ourselves in several layers of sunscreen and set off into the unseasonably cool late morning. After the requisite posing on the front lawn, obviously.

When your belt matches your handbag so perfectly, you have no choice but to record it for posterity.

This was my first time with a heavy weight in the Pashley's rear basket, and I was interested to see if it affected the handling. I asked Ginger to ride his 3 speed cruiser rather than his road bike, just in case I was a lot slower. I strapped sun hats, a large IKEA insulated bag full of multiple large drinks (The heavier portion of the load), fruit salad and cold rice salad into the basket, put an enormous handbag in the front basket and proceeded down a fairly major road. Fortunately, the usually intimidating road was abnormally quiet. It was still warm but a lovely sea breeze was drifting from the coast and preventing sweat from forming. The Pashley steamrolled over the uneven surfaces in typical fashion and I realised that I couldn't actually feel the load, I wasn't even in a lower gear. The great thing about the heft of the Pashley is that even a microscopic downwards slope can keep you rolling for a long time. It's the initial collecting of inertia that could be perceived as taxing. Once we arrived (the entrance is 'Official' bike path and runs through a Bird Sanctuary) we were pleased to see a few other bicycles around but raised an eyebrow at the council decision to allow cars IN the park. What was usually a green open space quite removed from the road, full of exercise equipment, BBQs and right next to the Bird Sanctuary had transformed into an ugly car park. This was extra-stupid for the fact that there were real car parks right next to the gardens and they weren't even half full. Sadly, people took the opportunity to park 20 metres closer to the bouncy castle. I wonder how much the lawn rehabilitation cost afterward?

You can see Ginger's back wheel on the left, it's already parked in the bike rack next to the real car park.

This is the same spot from a different angle (as we were getting ready to leave).
I am next to the bike rack and one of three car parks, yet you
can see the cars blotting the lawn behind the tents.

Having been regulars to the gardens on foot several times a week for exercise, Ginger and I had never consciously looked for bicycle parking but we eventually found an older style rack near the public toilets. We were the first bicycles to use the lone rack but just after we locked up, a woman arrived on a hybrid bicycle towing a bike trailer full of her smiling offspring. The trailer had bench seats, a pennant shaped safety flag streaming behind, a solid awning top and enclosed fly-screen sides, the kind which makes me wish they had been available when I was a child as they look like the very best way to experience the neighbourhood. Somewhat bizarrely, the woman was decked out in full lycra with logos included. Her children were wearing everyday clothes and not sports specific fabrics for their ride in the trailer. I looked around for some kind of roadie gathering but she was alone. Perhaps she was planning to unhitch the children and leave them to be raised by birds so that she could finally live her dream life of sweaty hybrid cycling? I can't believe that she really thought she HAD to wear that simply because she was on a bicycle but if by some black magic that was the case, I hope she was encouraged by the ordinary clothes of the few other cyclists in the park. We exchanged smiles in the way bicyclists do, acknowledging our stubborn freakishness.

Note almost empty car parks in the distance as well as right next to this bicycle rack.

There was a community policing station set up next to the bicycle rack so we felt totally at ease about leaving our bikes and wandering around on foot. There was a jazz band on a stage, some market stalls and plenty of entertainment for the children. I purchased a pair of vintage, costume jewellery clip-on earrings from a second hand stall because they were identical to a pair my maternal grandmother wore when she was alive and I was already feeling nostalgic thanks to the bicycling and summer breezes. Ginger bought a hat for a costume party we were attending later in the season. We sat in the shade of a tent to eat and drink while the band played to a mostly disinterested audience. Somebody from the council was distributing free watermelon slices, a lovely idea for a summer day. The temperature was starting to climb so we decided to make our way home before the sunscreen sweated off to uselessness.

As most of the people had driven, the area outside of the cluster of tents and cars was deserted and we had the bike paths and bird sanctuary to ourselves, enjoying the leafy shade and heron sightings. I do wonder why there was a such an unusually high rate of car transportation for a small, local outing; Bayswater events are generally full of local area residents who live within walking distance. I surmise it was because of the emphasis on children's entertainment in the promotional materials. The people of Perth seem to find transporting their children to be a herculean task requiring the latest in equine absent horsepower, as confirmed by half of the park by our house being filled with cars for the tiny Carols by Candlelight later that summer. Obviously the bicycle trailer industry needs some serious advertising.

View from a Pashley. The Bird Sanctuary.

The Ginger-crested Wanker in its native habitat.

Adventures in Portage (I like back racks and I cannot lie.)

The first time I put the Schwinn's carrying capacity to full use, I willfully engaged in folly. Friends were gathering for a casual dinner party a couple of suburbs away. That summer we had bicycled to the house many times and on many evenings. Taking us up a couple of steep hills, across a busy main road and then smoothly along the backstreets of a flat and vehicularly mild suburb of Perth, the route was one I knew well and did not feel particularly challenged by. Until I decided to transport a whole boxed cheesecake, with cream and cherries on top.

I began by neatly wedging the box between the spring-loaded trap on the Jenny's back rack and the springs under the saddle. It seemed very solid but having never trusted the rack before, I decided I should also strap it down. At this stage, I did not own any occy straps so the best I could do was a ridiculous waist belt with a bow for a buckle. The cheesecake box looked twee-ly secure with its accessory but I still had reservations about the cake transportation. I had visions of falling off and splattering baked cheese over the tarmac in a tragic waste of sugar, especially as I was wearing a mini-skirt which required some manoeuvring even to mount the bicycle. And it was dusk. But with lights and balance and low gearing, the Jenny hauled dessert at a surprisingly fast, stable rate. As we neared our destination, I was already chalking up my victory. Unfortunately, I failed to note an enormous pothole hidden in the evening gloom of an overgrown dwarf palm and rolled right into it. I felt the whole back of the bike drop and shudder but did not stop, mentally resigning myself to a decimated cheesecake but comforted by the knowledge that my friends are wholesale pigs like myself and wouldn't let a little deviation of form prevent them from accessing dessert. In the end, only a few of the decorative cherries and blobs of cream had fallen off - the rest was immaculate, leading me to create Rule 1 of Upright Bicycle Dessert Portage: Flat top cakes only.

After this modest success I transported food in a biscuit tin (bad idea, the trap scraped the tin surface), then I discovered a round, 'squashable' esky that I could force between the trap and the seat. My evening food portaging reached dizzy heights:

Dork Face delivers Dinner and drinks for 5.

Being light for a steel bicycle, a heavier load on the Jenny did affect the handling in that I could 'feel' the rear weight (and it made it a bit harder uphill) but in no way was it impossible to ride. In fact I quite enjoyed the armchair-like configuration of something tall on the back rack.

Once I had the Pashley and then fitted it out with a rear basket, I eagerly tested its child-seat approved rack - Not by abducting children but by loading it with assorted consumables and bicycling even further before devouring them. I found that the more weight I applied to the Pashley's rack, the more stable it felt during transit and the less I was conscious of carrying anything. Sadly, the terrible kick-stand did not perform proportionately. Often I had to ask Ginger to hold the Pashley while I loaded the baskets, learning the hard way that trusting the kickstand resulted in a forced realignment of the handlebars.

"I hate you, inferior kickstand."

I don't think I'd trust a toddler's face to the Pashley kickstand but the rack is certainly a worthy component, especially with a large rear basket. I'm curious as to how both bikes would perform with heavy front and rear loads (Fat Bottom not withstanding). As it is, since moving to Tasmania there has been little opportunity for local 'portage'. Although I did carry TWO ENTIRE boxes of gluten free snack chips back from town.

"Thank god I bought Carbon Flavour!"