Today, my blog broke free of the greater design of Vitzy's. It flies solo from this point forward, which is only justified, really, considering it's completely hidden from the part of the site it previously looked like.
Plus, now I can frequently change the design on a whim without worrying about continuity.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Brian is a Genius
So, whilst discussing ways to make my "new" bike as cool as possible, given my current limited means, Brian suggested we make the bike into a single speed. The more I thought about this, the more the idea grew on me. I could get rid of the outdated shifting system, shed some weight, simplify my around town ride and become a little bit cooler every day.
Today, after rolling around on the bikes paths for a while to determine what gear I wanted to be in permanently, we stopped by "Geoff's Bike and Ski," (the bike shop Brian is about to start working at) to order a freewheel. Surprisingly, they had the part in stock and even put it on for me.
We were well on our way.
Today, after rolling around on the bikes paths for a while to determine what gear I wanted to be in permanently, we stopped by "Geoff's Bike and Ski," (the bike shop Brian is about to start working at) to order a freewheel. Surprisingly, they had the part in stock and even put it on for me.
We were well on our way.
After that, all that remained was taking a whole lot of things off of my bike. That part was really quite fun.
Here we have a photo of my almost really cool ride (the bar tape and pedals are on the way, and sooner or later I'll get some new brake levers too).
Finally, as we admired our handiwork, Brian commented that this Fuji isn't a 12 speed anymore, it's a 1 speed. A few minutes with a strait razor added the finishing touch.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
New Member of the Family
Since the morning we woke to discover my bike gone from the porch, I have worked my way through all the stages of mourning. I started out in denial, moved through hope, anger and sadness. After a fruitless trip to the police's lost bike holding facility, I have finally settled into a state of numb regret. Although my heart will always grieve for the loss of my Jamis, there comes a point when the future must be faced.
This morning, Brian and I walked to the Iowa City Bike Library, a commendable organization run by volunteers. One of these volunteers, Steve, is a friend of Brian's, who took us into the back to look at the vast number of donated bikes he would potentially allow me to buy from them. I felt a slight twinge of dismay. Row after row of semi-functional bikes stretched into the dim recesses of the holding room. My heart cried out for my Jamis. I would never find it's equal, this much is clear, but how to weed out a bike with potential from such a vast array?
We poked around for a while, Steve commenting on how few of the bikes were worth anything. He asked after a moment, "Are you looking for a project?" Things were appearing less and less promising.
Then, Steve's girlfriend Cody came wheeling a bike into the room. She said, "This one just came in. I don't know, but it might work." I glanced at the bike in question - a red Fuji "Gran Tourer SE." My reaction was one of wariness. The front wheel was angled sharply backwards, towards the rest of the bike, the tires were flat, there were no pedals to be seen, and whomever named the bike seemed unaware that the word "gran" is usually spelled with a "d" at the end.
Steve said, "Oh yeah, we like the Fuji's." He took the bike from her, straightened out the wheel, tightened the headset bolt and said, "Yeah, not too bad." He checked it over while I considered it. He found the pedals wrapped in the brown paper taped to the top tube. Really, I saw as I looked past the initial impression, the drawbacks were few and easily fixable.
A few minutes later found me riding around the parking garage in the rain, noticing that the brakes worked, the bike fit, even if the stem was a little shorter than might be ideal and the bars have this weird foamy shit on them (not insurmountable obstacles, to be sure). Starting to feel a glimmer of hope, I went back to the Bike Library.
Brian and I talked it over, wrote a check, and walked home. Once on our porch, a closer inspection yielded only more cool aspects of the bike. Everything is clean and in good shape. Plenty of things could be easily upgraded over time. Furthermore, the frame bears the rainbow stripes of a world champion. A quick visit to Bike Nashbar has some white bar tape and some non-shin gouging, non-rusty pedals on the way. A few minutes with some lube and a screwdriver should remove things like the kickstand and other superfluous parts (singlespeed, anyone?).
In short, although my heart still aches for what is lost, a soft spot is rapidly developing for has been found.
*** Update - June 2008 ***
So many people come to this entry looking for this bike I am providing an up to date picture...
... and a link to a more recent post on the subject.
This morning, Brian and I walked to the Iowa City Bike Library, a commendable organization run by volunteers. One of these volunteers, Steve, is a friend of Brian's, who took us into the back to look at the vast number of donated bikes he would potentially allow me to buy from them. I felt a slight twinge of dismay. Row after row of semi-functional bikes stretched into the dim recesses of the holding room. My heart cried out for my Jamis. I would never find it's equal, this much is clear, but how to weed out a bike with potential from such a vast array?
We poked around for a while, Steve commenting on how few of the bikes were worth anything. He asked after a moment, "Are you looking for a project?" Things were appearing less and less promising.
Then, Steve's girlfriend Cody came wheeling a bike into the room. She said, "This one just came in. I don't know, but it might work." I glanced at the bike in question - a red Fuji "Gran Tourer SE." My reaction was one of wariness. The front wheel was angled sharply backwards, towards the rest of the bike, the tires were flat, there were no pedals to be seen, and whomever named the bike seemed unaware that the word "gran" is usually spelled with a "d" at the end.
Steve said, "Oh yeah, we like the Fuji's." He took the bike from her, straightened out the wheel, tightened the headset bolt and said, "Yeah, not too bad." He checked it over while I considered it. He found the pedals wrapped in the brown paper taped to the top tube. Really, I saw as I looked past the initial impression, the drawbacks were few and easily fixable.
A few minutes later found me riding around the parking garage in the rain, noticing that the brakes worked, the bike fit, even if the stem was a little shorter than might be ideal and the bars have this weird foamy shit on them (not insurmountable obstacles, to be sure). Starting to feel a glimmer of hope, I went back to the Bike Library.
Brian and I talked it over, wrote a check, and walked home. Once on our porch, a closer inspection yielded only more cool aspects of the bike. Everything is clean and in good shape. Plenty of things could be easily upgraded over time. Furthermore, the frame bears the rainbow stripes of a world champion. A quick visit to Bike Nashbar has some white bar tape and some non-shin gouging, non-rusty pedals on the way. A few minutes with some lube and a screwdriver should remove things like the kickstand and other superfluous parts (singlespeed, anyone?).
In short, although my heart still aches for what is lost, a soft spot is rapidly developing for has been found.
*** Update - June 2008 ***
So many people come to this entry looking for this bike I am providing an up to date picture...
... and a link to a more recent post on the subject.
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