While not on my Rivendell, at my grandparents' in Sun City, AZ, in it's
early days, my grandad had an English Raleigh to ride in retirement until
he realized the climate was better for making jerky or sitting in the AC
until sunset. Standard issue gentleman's commuter; SA 3x rear hub, Brooks
saddle, key lock fork, caliper brakes, partial chances and bottle generator
for headlight and fender tail light. I could get on it and I could ride it.
At first I thought the yet sold, unpaved or engineered margins of the
development were fun, then I ranged into the wild flat desert beyond.
I used that for trips into the desert. The area was sold to retirees as
safe, new, modern, convenient and wonderful for hosting family visits with
all the rec centers, golf courses, etc. I used that as my cover and mostly
headed north along the Aguia Fria River valley up what was the soon
petered-out 99th Avenue and up to what became Lake Pleasant. The
construction phase was interesting because I could take my skateboard and
ride inside the giant concrete pipes on site for the engineering phase to
come for the project.
Some of my earliest bike adventures were out in the desert on that bike,
stopped mostly by rising terrain terrain at the north boundary of the
valley. I learned to love sunscreen, generator lights, bigger tires, lots
of extra water and spare tubes out there. Now all paved and curbed, Lake
Pleasant populated by boaters and even the western hills beyond Luke AFB is
just a paved drive to a park in the creeping sprawl.
I tried to recreate one of my adventures on my last health and welfare trip
to see my grandmother and took my RB-1. 99th Ave was now just another road
instead of an absolute north-south route on a survey line, so I followed
whatever dirt road aimed North, promising to turn around at the second
flat, having four tubes and a patch kit.
While changing my second flat, I heard a motorcycle coming my way, but not
the common high RPM two-stroke MX bike. I was a bit concerned for being so
vulnerable out there. As it neared in I saw that it was red, had a sidecar
and its exhaust said it was an opposed twin. It turned out to be an Aral
driven by a very old guy who shut it off and said "nice bike" and was very
interested in bikes.
He turned out to have been a lesser board track racer who transitioned into
a commuter rail engineer in the Boston area. He spoke of recognizing other
six-day riders by their off-bike gait including one on the station platform
the called to from the locomotive. He turned to motorcycles in later life
and lesser fitness, frequenting the Tourist Trophy race on the Isle of Man
as an annual vacation, and befriending another American who he ran across
frequently and joined after the TT to the continent to ride across several
countries. It was Steve Forbes.
He offered me his bicycle parts stash, current to the late 50s, if I
wanted, complimenting the thinly veiled Campagnolo "Sachs" group I picked
up at InterBike that year and the lacing of my wheels, assessing me to be
worthy. I thanked him for the offer and said I really needed to get back
before dinner and we parted with a wave.
I didn't think so at the time, but that was a really memorable chance
meeting and exchange in the middle of the desert. He would have loved my
Rivendell had he seen it.
Andy Cheatham
Pittsburgh
On Saturday, July 8, 2017 at 9:22:33 PM UTC-4, Patrick Moore wrote:
>
> ... [even if] you are pushing it through the Saturday afternoon crowd in
> the narrow aisles of a discount Trader Joe's/Whole Foods clone (Sprout's;
> formerly Sunflower, until the owner of the latter got nailed for
> naughtiness of some sort).
>
> I was pushing the '03 through the crowded aisles of Sprouts Corrales this
> early afternoon; old ladies looks askance as if I'm dangerous; young
> matrons sniff and shove past; you are buttonholed everlastingly by the odd
> old codger.* But I had leaned the bike against the cheese island, for
> forays to the west end of the bulk aisle and north to the sodium nitrate
> (sausage and so forth) case, and west and south to the drinks section.
> ("Drinks" -- wine, beer, spirits -- the fizzy rotgot is far to the east.)
>
> I came back to home base and a young 40-something with potbelly was
> staring pensively at the Riv. He saw me and asked, "Is that a Raleigh"? I
> said, "No" and explained about small northern CA builder, had several
> customs, blah blah blah, and he replied, "I thinks bikes are just so
> beautiful." At which point I launched into my screed about how sure, the
> lugs are nice, and man, you should have seen the original $800 (?) paint
> job before Dave and Chauncey altered the frame and I had it powdercoated;
> and that the signature Riv feature is the fit, handling, ride.
>
> And that's not all! Down by the dairy case, a youngster, red headed lad
> all of 11 or 12, piped up and said, "Neat bike!"
>
> Bah! to all you frightened old ladies and hard faced soccer moms!**
>
> * Tho' I've had some very interesting conversations when buttonholed by
> old has-beens -- stock car racers, spies, fantasists ...
>
> **I generally lock it outside at busy times, but I had forgotten the lock.
> I do conscientiously defer to the old beldames (despite a tendency
> adequately described my my brother's retort to an old lady in line at the
> checkout, way back when and far far away, when she was being rude: "Just
> because you're old doesn't mean you have to be nasty".)
>
> --
> Resumes, LinkedIn profiles, bios, and letters that get interviews.
> By-the-hour resume and LinkedIn coaching.
> Other professional writing services.
> http://www.resumespecialties.com/
> www.linkedin.com/in/patrickmooreresumespec/
> Patrick Moore
> Alburquerque, Nouvelle Mexique, Vereinigte Staaten
> **************************************************************************
> **************
>
>
>
>
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