Six short memories from across the years

1.) As a child during the 1940s I lived in a house in England with no electricity and no water piped into the house. Water was brought in by bucket from a communal well outside. Lighting was by oil lamp and candles. My mother cooked with a coal fired range and baked wonderful pies and cakes. She did so without a thermometer on the oven.

She ironed with a flat iron also heated on the stovetop. She would spit on the iron to test the temperature, the spit would boil and run off immediately if it was hot enough. She had a pair of flat irons, one would be heating while she ironed with the other for a minute or so before it cooled.

2. It was early 1946 in England; WWII had been over less than a year. I was ten years old. King George VI, father of Queen Elizabeth was coming through our town on his way somewhere else. In the days leading up to this event, we made paper flags at school

Whether real flags were not available, or the school was too cheap to buy us flags, I don’t know. But we each drew and colored a British flag on both sides of a piece of paper and then glued it to a stick.

The day finally came, and we all lined up at the roadside. We waited, and we waited, freezing our little asses off, for at least an hour. Finally, here came the motorcade, passing through at about 45 mph. We all started cheering and waiving our little paper flags.

Someone shouted, “There he is” and pointed. I think I saw King George VI that day, I can’t be certain, but I think I did.

3.) As an eighteen-year-old in 1954, walking home in the early hours of a Sunday morning, after a Saturday night out, when an older drunk man, probably in his forties, tried to pick a fight with me. He took a swing at me but missed and fell over. I carried on walking home but heard a tremendous crash as he had fallen backward through the plate glass window of a television shop. The noise was deafening as the sound amplified through the empty streets. The last I saw of the drunk, he was lying on his back amongst the TV sets, with his legs in the air.

I took off running, and was chased by two American Military Police, in a Jeep. They pulled alongside me, and when they saw I was not an American Serviceman, they stopped and gave up the chase. I made it home without further incident. Later the local newspaper told the story of a broken store window mystery, and that nothing was stolen. There was no mention of the drunk guy. I guess he was not seriously hurt and had left the scene.

There was a large American Air Force Base, near where I lived. The Military Police would patrol the streets but had no jurisdiction over civilians. We called them "Snow Drops" because they wore white helmets, reminding us of a British wild flower that has white bell shaped petals and is called a Snow Drop.

4.) In 1968 (Age 32.) I saw Jimi Hendrix play in Nottingham, England, At the time he was still relatively unknown in America. The show was in a small venue and was the loudest concert I have ever been to. He had Marshall speakers stacked floor to ceiling. I stood at the back of the room and the sound was actually pushing my chest in. I don’t believe it was by chance his band was called “The Jimi Hendrix Experience.”

5.) In the mid 1980s the owner of a bike store in Denver asked me if I would make an exception for a very special customer and personally measure him for a custom frame. The customer was the manager of the Denver Broncos football team. (I don’t recall his name.) The team was coming to San Diego to play the Chargers and after the game he would drive up to see me.

The outcome was, the Chargers beat the Broncos, and the team and the manager took an early flight home. (Obviously, sore losers.) I never did get to measure him or build him a frame. Had I done so I would probably remember his name.

6.) In the late 1980s I was approached by Fila, the sports clothing company. They were interested in a line of bicycles with the Fila name on them. Two people from the company came to my shop to look at my operation, and we talked about my building these frames. They must have dropped the idea, I never heard back, and I don't recall anyone else making a Fila bike.

A bike riding robot

The above video is a demonstration of a cycling robot built by Japanese engineer Masahiko Yamaguchi. The tiny mechanical cyclist keeps its balance in the same way a human does by steering in the direction the bike and rider is leaning or falling.

The robot has a sensor in its backpack that detects a lean to the left or right, and this in turn causes the robot’s arms to steer the bike in the required direction.

A human will do this intuitively, as we fall to the left we steer to the left bringing the bike back under the center of mass, or balancing point. Rather like balancing a broom on the palm of our hand, we do this by constantly moving the palm of the hand in the direction the broom is falling.

If we want to turn to the left, we lean to the left. We automatically steer to the left to correct the lean and therefore make a left turn. Even when running we lean in the direction we wish to turn, all animals do it.

By leaning we automatically step in that direction and in doing so make a turn the way we are leaning.

For both the runner and the cyclist, the lean also counteracts the centrifugal force, pushing us outwards, that the turn generates.

You rarely hear of a bicycle or motorcycle tipping over on a corner as a three- or four-wheel vehicle might do, or for that matter a runner falling outward on a bend.  Rather the bike, or the runner’s feet may slide out from under them.

There are two ways to balance on a bicycle. Riding slowly at a walking pace, we physically steering the bike in the direction we are falling. (The way the robot does it.) Riding at speed we steer by leaning in the direction we wish to turn, the same way a runner does.

We can even ride “No hands” and both balance and steer by shifting our body weight. This requires more skill but as most of the body’s mass is in the upper body, the rider mostly has only has to move their hips to achieve balance. This too is somewhat of an intuitive movement.

Have you ever been riding near the edge of the road and find that the asphalt drops off several inches? Your bike is leaning towards the edge and normally you would steer in that direction to correct it, only you can’t because you will steer yourself off the road.

Instinctively, you throw your opposite knee, and your shoulders away from the edge. You have steered away from the edge of the road, and also maintained your balance by moving your body weight rather than by steering with the handlebars. It was an intuitive movement probably accompanied by a moment of sheer panic.

This is why the bicycle is such a remarkable yet simple invention. It is relatively easy to balance and ride, even a child can do it with a little practice. 

It is a similar to the intuitive thing that we do while walking or running, the bicycle could be described as a mechanical extension of the human body.

Footnote: There is more to steering and steering geometry than this simplified explanation. There are several articles in the bike tech section of the archives.

The Lucky Few Generation

My generation were known as the Lucky Few, or sometimes the Silent Few. Born between 1928 and 1945, we came between the Greatest Generation, who fought in WWII, and the Baby Boomers who came after the war. It was the period of the Great Depression and WWII, when fewer babies were born.

I was barely 4 years old when the war started, 9 years old when it ended. I never understood the war, at the time it was all I knew. I guess we were known as the “Fortunate,” or “Lucky” Few because we were too young to be drafted into the military, and we came of age in the 1950s, as the economy boomed after the war.

We were also known as the Silent Few because we did little in the way of protesting, marching or banner carrying. In the UK in the 1950s things were pretty good, and as far as we were concerned there was little to complain about.

In America it was the era of McCarthyism, with people being blacklisted and persecuted for having leftist views, so I would imagine it was wise not to express one’s views publicly.

In the UK too, we grew up with strict discipline, both at home and in the school system. Children were taught to be seen and not heard, and you never questioned or talked back to an adult.

As a result, we grew up completely isolated from adults, neither asking for advice nor seeking their help in any way. Big Business had not caught on to the potential market for fashionable clothes aimed at teenagers. We created our own fashions.

We followed trends of course, just as teens do to this day. We wanted to look different and did so by dressing the same. Fashions for young people started in London, and slowly spread to other areas throughout the UK.

We wore expensive handmade suits made by some of the best tailors in London, cut in the style of the Edwardian era of the early 1900s. (Think of Sherlock Holmes.) The press and general public called us “Teddy Boys” and we were openly ridiculed on the streets. Which I guess gave us the attention we wanted.

Our musical tastes in the early 1950s was Big Band Jazz. I got to see Count Basie, and Duke Ellington when they toured England in the mid-1050s. We frequented jazz clubs in London that featured small jazz trios, quartets, or quintets.

Records we bought and listened to on Juke Boxes were imported from America. I was a huge fan of Hank Williams, as were many other young people in Britain. In 1956 when Elvis Presly hit the scene, along with artists like Chuck Berry and Little Richard they had a large following.

However, not everything coming out of America was accepted by young British people, especially the college kids. They stuck with their interest in jazz, but by 1958 or so had switched their allegiance, to Traditional Jazz, Dixieland, and New Orleans style played in America in the 1920s.

Bands were being formed to play this kind of music, and an offshoot of this was an interest in early American Folk Musicians like Josh White, Woody Guthry, Hudy Ledbetter, and Big Bill Broonzy.

Yet another offshoot was an interest in “The Blues,” played by Black Artists in America. In the 1960s when there was an explosion of British bands and musicians, it may have appeared that this was an overnight sensation, but far from it.

It had been brewing for at least ten or fifteen years before that. Brought about by a generation of young people who did their own thing, created their own styles and had their own musical tastes. Uninfluenced by adults, or large Record Corporations. It spread to America, and the rest of the World, and other young artists carried it forward.     

Brought about by a set of circumstances beyond any one person’s control, and being so unique it will probably never happen again. Being born during a World Depression, and spending their childhood during a World War, under a very repressive education system.

I am indeed “Fortunate” to be part of the generation known as the Lucky or Silent Few. The old saying, “You had to be there,” comes to mind, and being there gives me a perspective on life that I would not otherwise have.

A summary of the two Tour de France races

I missed posting here last week for the first time in a long time. The reason, I got wrapped up in the Tour de France. First the men’s race, one of the best I had seen in recent years. Followed by the women’s race.

In the men’s race it was good to see that Tadej Pogacar was indeed human, and could be beat, although I can’t help feeling that Jonas Vengegaard was not greatly superior to Pohacar, rather equal, but having a stronger team.

Anyway, it was refreshing to see the respect these two young riders had for each other and it brought me back to what the sport used to be, as I remember it years ago.

I didn’t know what to expect in the Tour de France Femmes, but from the first stage on, I was hooked. Shorter stages meant that tactically the race played out quicker and was extremely entertaining and exciting to watch.

In the flat sprinter’s stages for example, there was none of the holding the break at two or three minutes for the entire race, until the last 10 kilometers.

Because the stages were shorter, breaks were brought back quickly, often followed by more attempts to break clear. This fast, attacking style of racing, over a shorter distance was not only exiting to watch, but it also meant by the end of the stage the peloton had split into smaller groups.

The result being, only the strongest riders contested the sprint, instead of the chaotic entire field, bunch sprint that has become all too common on the flat stages of the men’s races.

As for the final two mountain stages, Annemiek van Vleuten just dominated the entire race, winning both stages and the Overall Classification. It was a joy to watch her climbing ability.

It was great to see the support of fans by the roadside, especially as they had been exposed to three weeks of the men’s race. Apparently, the TV coverage was also watched by more viewers world-wide.

I can only imagine that having a Women’s Tour de France, will create an increased interest in the sport, by people who would otherwise not usually watch.

This can only be a good thing for the sport in general and perhaps create a way forward from the somewhat tarnished image that unfortunately the sport has created for itself over the years.

Chillin

"You do know the aero-tuck is banned now?"“Chillin” is a word that has crept into the Urban Dictionary. A word for “Relaxing, doing nothing in particular.”

Chillin, in my book would require having happy thoughts, or better yet no thoughts. Living in the moment.

Children do that so well, they are not thinking ten minutes into the past or future. Animals too, like the cat on the right.

Their brain is not developed enough to have a whole a lot of memories of the past, or thoughts of the future. Human kind’s intelligence and memory capacity is both a gift and a curse.

I left the bike business in 1993. Almost 30 years ago, or a lifetime for some young person. Since that time I have practiced doing nothing.

If you think that sounds easy, the next time you go to a doctor’s office or take your car in for an oil change, try to sit in the waiting room with your hands in your lap, and do nothing. Do not pick up a magazine or fiddle with your cell phone. More important keep your mind blank, free of any thought.

In the 1990s to achieve this state of mind I would have to make a point to set time aside each day to meditate. I did not get into meditation out of any desire to engage in some mystic eastern religion, but after reading about the practice it seemed like a good idea.

At the time my mind was constantly filled with negative thoughts, and as a result my life was filled with negativity. Throughout my waking hours my mind was filled with either thoughts of the past or future. I was either reliving the bad events of my past, or worrying about the possible misfortunes of the future.

My daily life was a constant torment and I realized it was of my own making. In time I realized, no matter how hard I tried my past would never get any better. What was the point of constantly reliving it, over and over?

The same with the future, it was only imagined. I have heard "Worrying" described as mourning some future bad event before it even happened. Worse still, my negative thoughts most probably brought about the very thing I was worrying about.

At least by consciously sitting quietly and pushing all thought from my mind, I was not thinking negatively. At first it was extremely difficult, I could not go but a minute or so before a thought about something or other would pop into my head.

I became an observer of my own mind. I could see that one idle random thought would lead to another and pretty soon there would be a whole train of thought on a track leading to who knows where.

At first my meditation sessions went something like this: Sit with my mind blank… a thought pops in… push it out… repeat… sit with my mind blank. In time, the periods I could consciously keep my mind blank increased, and if thoughts did pop in, they were pushed out with ease.

Even more beneficial, in time throughout the day while driving to work, or during my time at work I observed idle thoughts entering my mind, idle chatter that served no useful purpose. I began to consciously push these thoughts from my mind and keep it blank.

It probably took me about five years of effort to banish idle chatter from my mind. Today I rarely set aside actual time to meditate, instead I practice keeping my mind blank at all times.

While I sit and drink my coffee in the morning. If I drive my car, or ride my bike, or as I already pointed out while sitting in a waiting room somewhere.

Having a blank mind while driving or riding my bike is actually better and safer than being deep in thought. To be deep in thought, especially about something troubling is to be distracted, even to be in a state of trance.

Driving or riding a bike does not require conscious thought to anyone with experience, it is automatic. By that I mean even defensive riding or driving is automatic. As long as one is mindful of their surroundings, by keeping the mind clear of extraneous thought, one is actually more alert should an emergency occur.

Keeping my mind blank is like sitting in front of a blank computer screen, or having a blank page of a notebook in front of me. It is an opportunity for creative thoughts to appear.

Just as it is impossible to convey my thoughts to someone else if that person will not stop talking and listen, if my mind is filled with constant chatter, creative thoughts have nowhere to enter.

I can highly recommend doing nothing when nothing is required, my life is mostly stress free. It is not necessary to be thinking if all you have to achieve is waiting for the oil to be changed in your car.  It is not difficult either, but it does take time, it is not going to happen overnight.

It has taken me over thirty years to get to the peaceful happy place I am now. But looking back it took me a great many more years to get to the mental Hell where I lived before