Who are we? We are our stories.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Day One On the Hunt

84F degrees today and very humid and windy. Very windy. Stilts in the wind.
Black-necked Stilts

Our Canadian neighbors here at Birdwatchers International Complex believe they saw a rare Glossy Ibis. Maybe they did. The common dark Ibis here in the Rio Grande Valley is the White-faced Ibis, which is virtually identical to a Glossy Ibis in it's winter plumage. Probably no one, other than an Ibis, knows for certain. The professional birders would claim to know, but as a group they are known to be wishful. I very likely took a photo of a White-faced Ibis, but I would like to think it was a Glossy. And in a year or two it will probably will become one.
White-faced Ibis

The duck with his head under the water is a Northern Shoveler. They have a large, flat, spoon-shaped bill, that helps them make a living in shallow water, working the muddy bottom for small aquatic invertebrates. It's sidekick here is a Wilson's Phalarope. The Phalarope stuck by his side all day, picking off little critters the Shoveler dredged up. The Shoveler didn't seem to get much out of the relationship, but company. Maybe the Phalarope is a good story teller.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

On the Road, 2

Belton, Texas.  I will catch up tomorrow with some pictures at 75 mph. Too damned tired now.

The ketchup:
It was drizzly fog when we left Emporia for the run across the Flint Hills Grassland. I love the Flint Hills, even in the rain. The hills are limestone with a thin skin of soil over the top - too thin to plow. The result is that we are left with our only large scale parcel of tallgrass prairie that has really never been settled and turned into corn fields. And it is magnificent.
Hill country north of Ardmore, Oklahoma. In Ardmore we stumbled upon the Two Frogs, a blues club that had leopard print wallpaper and some pretty damned fine cajun food.

Texas. What can I say about Texas, other than crossing that border is like going to a foreign country.
Dallas or Fort Worth. Who cares?

 And disappointing BBQ in Belton, Texas.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

On the Road again: Day 1

Dateline: 1-9-13 Emporia, Kansas
The why.

The how. The Honda, ready to roll.
Iowa State Forest


We left at about 9:00 or 9:30 this morning, only about an hour late, and headed south across Iowa on I-35. Iowa may be a fine state, but the heart of it is flat, featureless and boring. I catch myself looking at cattle feedlots just to break the monotony of the flat, white nothingness. South of Des Moines it starts getting hilly and more picturesque. Missouri the same. Eastern Kansas still dull, but now we've made it to Emporia on the eastern edge of the Flint Hills, so tomorrow will be a stunner in a subtle Little Bluestem sort of way. I'm hoping for sunshine, but the weather reports don't sound good.

As we pulled into the motel we were followed off the road by a keen-eyed gentleman who spotted the Campagnolo Nouvo Record on the Nishiki and wanted to see it up close. I didn't catch his name, but he is my new very best friend. Lorna slipped him my card, so maybe we'll hear from him here at 1410.

Tomorrow, the Flint Hills Prairie and beyond.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Hope


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;


And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

- Emily Dickenson

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Song and Dance Man

A light little ditty to help get you through the day. Recorded January 17th, 1995 - could have been yesterday. We don't seem to be gaining on poverty fast enough.

Dreaming My Dreams

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Who Will the Next Fool Be

Old Bicycles and the Men Who Love Them

or How To Keep Your Bicycles Happy and Your Family Well-Tuned
by Bob Hovey who shamelessly plagiarized and edited the original text of Roger Welsch, (writing about his tractor collection).

Over the past couple of years, I have collected advice along with my Masis, and I think it is only neighborly that I pass along to you what I have learned. If you're married and are thinking about getting into the vintage steel business, forget trivial things like chain breakers and crank pullers and lay the groundwork for your new hobby by carefully studying the following rules ... THE BASIC RULES OF BICYCLE COLLECTING!

RULE #1. Collect only one model and make of bicycle - nothing but Bianchis or Hetchins, for example. When all your bicycles have the same decals (and better yet, color), it's harder, if not impossible, for anyone (if you catch my drift) to figure out how many bicycles you actually have.

RULE #2. Similarly, never line up your bicycles, ever. Nothing distresses a difficult spouse more than seeing twelve old bicycles lined up, looking for all the world like a burning pile of hundred dollar bills. Scatter the bicycles around - a couple behind the shed, one or two in the shed, another beside the garage - so that it is not possible for anyone, if you know who I mean, to see more than two or three from any one perspective. Your hobby will be less "irritating" that way, if you know what I mean.

RULE #3. For much the same reason, don't number your bicycles #1, #2, #3. Give them names. You'd be surprised how much less trouble you will have, if you talk about "Sweet Wheels" or "The Celeste Queen" rather than "Carlsbad #014"

RULE #4. Somewhere fairly early in your collecting, buy a bicycle you don't want. Sell it again as quickly as you can; don't worry about making money on the transaction. The main thing is to get a bicycle and get rid of it. Then, for years, you can say, "Yes, Angel-face, I do have six Cinelli B's, and they are in the shed while our car is out in the weather, but that doesn't mean that I will always have six Cinelli B's. Remember the one I got rid of a few years ago? I'm thinking of selling another one any day now so we can put the car in the garage." If you are lucky enough to have a friend who collects bicycles, make an arrangement for him to drop off a bicycle now and again. That way you can say - if anyone asks - that you bought it. Then have it hauled off again, and say you sold it. With this system, you can re-establish your reputation for moderation every couple of years or so.

WARNING: About the time I accumulated my sixth or seventh Masi I thought I'd be smart, so I bought a lovely and extremely rare little Masi mixte. Beth and our eleven-year-old daughter Silca were standing in the yard as I unloaded this lovely little item that needed only some wheel truing and a new chain. "I see you bought yourself another bicycle that doesn't work" said Beth.

"Guess what, dear?" I beamed. "I didn't buy myself another Masi. I bought you a Masi! She's yours, and ain't she cute?"

I could tell by the look on her face that she was about as excited as she was the Christmas I gave her a new drain cleaner attachment for her vacuum cleaner, but I wasn't at all prepared for what she said next: "How much can I get for it?"

"Er, uh, I didn't get it for you to sell, honey-cakes. I was thinking...if you don't want to ride it all the time, I can take it into town now and then just to be sure the brakes are adjusted and the shift cables are tight. It won't be any trouble at all."

"Well, thanks, Bob, you're really too sweet, I don't deserve a darling like you. How much can I get for it?"

I almost broke into tears at the thought of someone loading that great bicycle onto their trunk and driving off with it. I was thinking that I should have gone with my first impulse and said that it had followed me home and could I maybe keep it, but thank goodness, about that time my mind kicked up to the big chainring. "Actually, I thought that if you wouldn't mind sharing, it could also be Silca's bicycle. Right. That's it! Eventually it'll be Silca's bicycle."

Silca leaped into the Masi's saddle with a squeal and started turning the handlebars and trying to reach the pedals. Beth snorted something about me fixing my own supper that night - that is, if I was intending to stay over - and headed back toward the house while I helped Silca bond with her bicycle. That was a close call, and my advice to you is not to buy your wife a bicycle. Better stick with a drain cleaner attachment for the vacuum sweeper.

RULE #5. Pay for bicycles with a cashier's check, postal money order, or cash, which leave far less evidence than checks drawn on a family account. Once you have gotten possession of a bicycle and paid for it, eat the stubs, carbon copies, or receipts immediately. Such things have a way of becoming an embarrassment later, take it from me.

Some collectors like to point out to skeptical marriage partners that what with interest rates so low these days, buying old bicycles is actually an investment, a way of being sure the spouse will be "taken care of and comfortable should something .... something terrible happen." Doesn't work with my dear Beth. She thinks Masis are the "something terrible".

RULE #6. Now and then buy a junker "for parts," even if you don't need the parts, even if there are no salvageable parts. In fact, you might want to consider hauling home a Murray or two whenever you haul home a good machine - if possible, on the same trailer or roof rack. This is called "liability averaging." If your spouse says something about it being strange that you have money for yet another bicycle but not enough for a new refrigerator, point indignantly to the bicycles on the trailer - the beautiful restored one for which you paid $1,600 and the two rusted hulks you got for $30 each - and you huff (or whine, depending on what has worked in the past), "Snookums, I got those for a little more than $500 each and the one in the back is easily worth $2,000 just as it stands, a tidy profit of $400, more than five times what I paid for the other two." See? Doesn't that make you sound like an investment wizard? Some collectors find it effective to add something like, "it's pretty hard to find a good refrigerator for $500!" but it has been my experience that a smart-aleck attitude can fairly directly lead to the purchase of a $500 refrigerator.

RULE #7. When things get critical in the household, you might consider dragging home a bicycle without handlebars and saddle or minus the wheels. If there is a complaint, you say something like, "bicycle? What bicycle? That's not a bicycle! That's only a frame and a few parts. Not even close to a bicycle." Then a couple weeks later bring home a wheelset or whatever. "What bicycle?" you say. "That's no bicycle! That's only a couple of wheels. Not even close to a bicycle." Don't try this, however, more than once every couple of years.

RULE #8. Have Steven Maasland or some other collector/dealer friend call you now and then when you're not at home and tell your spouse, "Bob told me to keep an eye on the WB Hurlow going at the auction up at Centerville Saturday, but it sold for $1,200 and I know there's no way a financially cautious and responsible guy like Bob would pay that much so I didn't even make a bid on it for him."

Not only will this make you look real good, the next time you do buy a bicycle, say something like, "Lovie-bear, this beauty only cost me $300, which means we're $900 ahead of where we'd have been if I'd gotten the one at Centerville. If I keep saving money like this, we'll be able to go on a Caribbean cruise next winter." If you say it fast enough, it might work.

RULE #9. If your mate insults your bicycle work by referring to it as "rustoration" or "tinkering", laugh a light-hearted laugh that makes it clear that bicycles are not to you what shoes were to Imelda Marcos.

RULE #10. In the event that your situation deteriorates to the point where your mate asks, "Who do you love more, me or your blasted bicycles?" whatever you do, don't ask for time to think it over.

Notes:
The above suggestions are not dishonest or deceptive, exactly. They are ways to make life easier for your spouse. In fact, now that I think about it, these little acts of diplomacy are actually a kindness, a way to smooth the road for someone you love. Following these rules are a way of being a better person. People who follow THE BASIC RULES OF BICYCLE COLLECTING are good people. In fact, I feel so good about myself, I think I'll go out and buy myself another bicycle! It'll be a good investment. I'll haul it in at night. That way I won't bother Beth.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

1975 Moulton

...or Moulton vs Masi Throwdown.




This is just an old bicycle frame. It has chipped paint and a little rust here and there. It's reasonably attractive, but not spectacular. From a distance it looks look a hundred, even a thousand, other frames made in the mid 1970s. So why are looking at it?









We are looking at it because it's a Dave Moulton frame. Dave Moulton built bicycles have been ridden in the Tour de France, Olympics, and World Championships. He is also a musician and after he quit building bicycles he became a novelist.  This bicycle belongs to Silk Hope, who is "restoring" it. The restoring he is doing is really just cleaning it and stabilizing the finish by brushing the rust with a toothbrush and paste, applying neatsfoot oil and waxing it. Why isn't he  repainting it? From the builder:
Jack,
I really think you leave the paint as is. Although it is very rough, it is the original paint done by me, and as it is a very early frame there will be few like it with original paint making it somewhat rare.
Dave Moulton
"Somewhat rare" is a bit of an undestatement; more likely, "one of a kind". And why I am posting this now? Because John Pergolizzi has recently listed a repainted restored Masi on eBay for $19,500, and every six months or so the boys on the Classic Rendezvous vintage bicycle chat group go ballast, and at times abusive, arguing about whether to leave things as they are or to strip, repaint and restore them. Below is the Masi in question.



The old framebuilders seem to feel the frame is the bike, the paint is just window dressing, and the components are merely things that clutter up the lines of their work. Others, apparently including Mr. Moulton, feel that the paint is part of the bike, especially if it has some historical value.

Before I go I must throw in this argument for "it's about the frame", by Mr. Billy
Ketchum:
" After Helen of Troy was abducted by Paris, and after his death, passed on to his various brothers, Menelaus still wanted her back and didn't feel she was essentially altered by their time away."
Me? I think most of them are merely bicycles and we need to get things in perspective and ride them. I would not refinish that Dave Moulton under any circumstance and I'd rather have it than that restored Masi, no matter who built or rode it. My humble opinion. Yours?

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Friday, December 21, 2012

Regional, Seasonal Music

We Minnesotans tend to be a dour, serious group. This is often reflected in the music. Perticularily our winter music. "Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline." Listen to The Pines, to Low. Low? How upbeat could a group be that is called Low? So we slog our way through the snow, collars up warding off the wind, our noses running - as we hum songs about snow storms and blizzards. I posted this before, but I'm giving it another run. My daughter works in a school teaching our children, my wife used to.

Right now parts of the Midwest are still digging out from a hellofa storm. So, this is for all the teachers. Our children. Our snowplow drivers. 

 

It's coming down
Snow lays on the chainfield
There's a blessing on the ground
It's coming down
If your lanes are crammed with children 
There's a blessing on your town
On a lucky Monday, Mrs. Braintree
All your lanes are waxen silver
And the stores are loot for vagabonds
It's coming down
Go home!
Go home and take a snow day, Mrs. Braintree!