The Art of Exuberant Subtlety

Squinting in the harsh mid-day light and holding my breath, I rolled this rare machine I had been entrusted with across the grassy clearing.I leaned it against a tree. I arranged it amidst some flowers. Ipositioned it this way and that, in the sunshine and in shadow. With the camera to my eye, I crouched, I kneeled, I loomed, I stepped back. And yet, the bicycle refused to draw attention to itself. It was as if in his quest to achieve harmony - a harmony of proportion, colour and form - the builder had gone one step too far. So harmonious was this bicycle, so perfectly at home in these woods on this beautiful spring day, that it was in fact part of the scenery.






To appreciate a JP Weigle, one must appreciate this level of subtlety. There is no Weigle website. Just some flickr pictures, minimal publicity, word of mouth, and one of the longest wait lists in the business. Because tothose in the know, the builder's name is synonymous with randonneuring machines in the classic French tradition, made to the highest standards.Today this style of bike is not as rare - and, by extension, not as striking - as it was just a few years ago. There are fewer heated debates about its low trail geometry and 650B tires. There are also fewer oohs and aahs about its integrated fenders, racks, lighting, handlebar bags and other iconic features. But a Weigle machine is not so much about these things in themselves, as it is about how they are done. They say thatWeigle is the master of the thinned lug, of the French-curve fork blade, of the sculptural, minimalist front rack, of the near-invisible internal wiring,of the perfectly installed fenders. Hardly anyone uses the word "beautiful" to describe his work, although it is assumed. The words used are: meticulous, impeccable, flawless.It is by design that no part of a Weigle calls attention to itself.






In his ruralConnecticutworkshop, JP (Peter) Weigle has a presence that is as quietly compelling as one of his creations. Dressed in gray on gray and of serene disposition, he is easy to miss in a room full of colourful jerseys and animated conversation."But where is Peter?" visitors ask. Eventually he is spotted, in a corner, speaking in a muted yet impassioned tone as he points to some tiny detail on either his own frame or a vintage one in his custody. On my visit I was treated to a Jo Routens, stripped of paint, its brazed joints exposed to be studied. And beside it was the yet-unpainted bike I was trying to photograph now - nearly ready.






The future owner, Elton (second from the left), left the paint colour up to Peter, confident that whatever the builder chose would be right for the bike.






The racing green frame with nickel-plated fork blades and stays is a congruent combination of darks and lights, of matte and reflective surfaces.






The embellishments - such as the lug cutouts filled with tiny bursts of red and the golden box lining - are noticeable only on close inspection, but are so numerous and discreet that one could spend hours looking over the bike and still miss some.






The lugs are thinned out to such an extent, that they are almost flush with the tubes. It is difficult to get their intricate shorelines to show up on camera. No doubt it is to highlight this aspect of the construction that lug outlining has been omitted.






In addition to the frame and fork, Peter made the canti-mount front rack






which features a left-side light mount extension






and sits low and stable on the bike, the platform secured to the front fender.






He also made the rear rack,






which attaches both at the dropouts and at the canti bosses.






The custom cable hanger and tail light are also his own work, as is the reworked ("Special OH-HEC") pump - poorly pictured here, but lovely.






The internally routed dynamo-powered lighting was set up in collaboration with AT Électricalités - aka "Somervillain," who now moonlights as a bike electrician of renown skill. He explains how he set up the lighting step by step here. Examining the bike in person, the entry and exit points of the wiring are extremely difficult to spot even if you know where they are.






The rest of the build the owner put together himself. It included a Grand Bois stem and decaleur,






modern Rene Herse crankset,






Shimano Dura Ace rear derailleur and cassette,








9-speed Campagnolo ergo shifters,





vintage Mafac brakes






Handbuilt wheels around Pacenti rims, with a Chris King hub in the rear and a Schmidt SON dynamo hub in the front, and of course Grand Bois Hetre (extra leger!) 650Bx42mm tires,






Gilles Berthoud touring saddle,






Berthoud handlebar bag,






and long coverage Honjo fenders, which Peter Weigle installed using his own special method prior to Elton doing the rest of the build.





The elegant Nitto bottle cages are a nice complement to the build,






as are the two-tone Crankbrothers pedals and Wippermann chain.






Even after such a long description, there are many details I've missed. I need a clearer background and softer lighting to really do justice to it all. The curve of the brake bridge, the hidden lug cutouts, the pump peg, the delicate little braze-ons... this is a bike whose beauty "unfolds" the more closely you look at it. But standing there in a patch of woods, it makes you think about cycling rather than its own self. And Elton surely has plans to do some brevets on this beautiful machine this season. In the meantime he has been commuting on it to work.






Living in New England, I've been lucky enough to encounter a few Weigle bikes "in the wild" (for example, this one), made over the span of several decades. Like a number of other well known American builders, Peter Weigle got his start at Witcomb Cycles in London, UK in the early 1970s. And while today he is best known for his low trail randonneuring machines with 650B wheels, he did not begin working on such designs until 2005-2006. Before then there were Weigle racing bikes, mountain bikes, touring bikes - all showing the fashions of the times, yet also his distinct brand of elaborately subtle detail. I feel fortunate to have seen some of these bicycles and spoken to their owners.




Peter Weigle's small workshop in the woods is neat and tidy when visitors appear. The builder's friends tease that he never allows anyone to watch him work, his technique being top secret. Whatever the secret is, the results continue to entice bicycle lovers to dream of his machines, whether admiring them from afar or putting their names on the years-long wait list.

Cozumel Cruise~Day at Cozumel

Our day trip to Cozumel was a blast! We were able to join Rich and Dee and Dean and Margie and some of Dee's family for an island tour with tour guide. It was really neat to see the island this way!



The island was as pretty as I thought it would be. The people were incredibly friendly. The water was that same clear water that we experienced on our last cruise.



We stopped at a little village, where there were tons of goodies to buy.



We made friends with some of the local critters.



Rich and Dean visited jail, we soaked up some of the beauty and we enjoyed the air conditioned van.





We enjoyed "real" Mexican food and ended the day with a tour of a Tequila factory.



It was a great day full of wonderful memories!



Living the life in Cozumel!

The William Hale Brubaker Family

William Hale Brubaker, born February 22, 1905, was the fourth and last child of Charles Romain and Maude Catherine Wise Brubaker. The family was living in Troy Township, Whitley County at the time. In less than two years the family would move to Traverse City, Michigan where they would live for about three years. In December 1910, when Charles' younger brother Maurice Hale Brubaker, passed away the family returned to Whitley County. They lived at the Goose Lake Farm until about 1918 when they moved into Columbia City.

Bill, as he was more commonly known, married Fern Flossie Rohn on January 5, 1924 in Hillsdale, Michigan. He was 18 years old and she was 16. They moved to Elkhart, Indiana where his uncle Maurice Wise was living. I'm not sure when Bill bought his first restaurant. His obituary stated that he was the owner and operator of Tyler Lunch restaurant from 1927 to 1965 but the 1930 census gives his occupation as a cook in the restaurant industry. That restaurant and the second one he owned, called "Bill's Restaurant" which he owned from 1966 to 1974, were both open only for breakfast and lunch; they closed for the day at 2 p.m. and were opened at 5 a.m. every morning.

Bill and Fern were the parents of three children; Gene, Mary Lee and Glea. Fern passed away on June 14, 1973. The following year Bill sold the restaurant and moved to Orlando, Florida. He died on April 21, 1979 at the home of his daughter in Orlando.

Bill and his family probably came to North Webster to visit my grandmother, there are several pictures of them at her house, but I don't know if we were ever there when they visited, except for one time. I don't remember it but a picture shows that I was there, along with all my cousins. Give me a break, please, it was 1965 and I was a teenager!

Fast forward to July of .. when I received an email from a friend that worked at the Whitley County Historical Museum. She had been contacted by someone wanting information on the Brubaker family and she was aware that I had Brubaker's in my family. Long story, short, I made contact and it was the wife of one of Bill's grandson, we'll call them Dick and Jane. Jane was hoping to gather enough information on the Brubaker family to present to Dick as a gift for his birthday that fall. Of course, I sent her the information and we made arrangements to meet.

In October .., Dick and Jane came to visit me and they met my mother and her sisters and brother. Now, when you get my Mother and her siblings all together, following conversations can be difficult, and this occasion was no different. There were ten people in the room but five conversations going on at the same time! Aunt Phyllis had brought some pictures of Bill's family to share with them, many which they had never seen. I'm sure that by the time Dick and Jane left they were overwhelmed by it all. I've kept in contact with them via email since then and someday hope to meet with them again.

William Hale Brubaker with his son Gene who was only six days old, according to the writing on the edge of the picture. If so, it would be August 24, 1925. The little girl is Phyllis Phend.

Four Generations - sort of - The baby, Gene Brubaker, is being held by his great grandfather William P. Wise. Then it's William's daughter, Maude Wise Brubaker and her son William Hale Brubaker. Not dated, probably 1925-26.

William Brubaker Family. Fern, Gene, Bill, Glea, and Mary Lee. Not dated, probably 1937-38.

Snowshoeing Wauswaugoning Bay (again)

I went back to snowshoe Wauswaugoning Bay again, this time by myself. I was planning to push beyond where the 3 of us went on our last journey to the bay. We had hoped to make it to the south side of Pigeon Point, where we could get a view of the Susie Islands. As it turned out the distance was farther than we thought and our light was running out so we had to turn around before we made it all the way.

I headed out a bit earlier, hoping it would be enough time to make it. The sky was also totally clear, rather than wall to wall clouds and it was to be a full moon tonight so if I ran out of time again I would have the full moonlight to guide me back (I also had my headlamp, just in case). This ended up being the most amazing snowshoe hike I have ever been on! I made it to the Lake Superior shoreline, just in time for sunset. There were some fascinating ice formations on the shore. I even saw some wolf tracks following the shoreline. To top it off, the ice on Wauswaugoning Bay was creaking and groaning which I could hear throughout the whole hike.

It was especially eerie walking back through the woods after dark, in the moonlight, and hearing the noises of the ice as it shifted and settled. As I walked through the woods guided by the glow from the moon (it was bright enough that I never once turned my headlamp on), every now and then the ice would speak. "Booooooo.... doomp!" it cried. I would walk for another minute or two then again "Boooooooo.... doomp!" This is the best way I can describe the noise. It must be the force of the water pushing the ice into the bay, then when the force eases up on the ice, the ice settles. The pressure pushing the ice in must create the "Boooooo" sound, then when the pressure eases the ice settles down, making the "doomp" sound. At any rate, it was eerie but wonderful. To top things off, I even heard an owl hooting a couple of times as I walked through the woods, bathed in that glorious moonlight. A night to remember.

(Above: I titled this image "Haunted Forest". The surreal look was achieved by running a 2-second exposure while at the same time panning the camera slightly from left to right.)

Smeeton Westerby and Fleckney (Saddington) Tunnel

Almost 4 miles.

Started from Bridge 72 on GU Canal.







Along tow-path on right of canal, on top of tunnel, across Saddington - Kibworth Road, down to the tow-path on the left as far as the next bridge,











leave the canal through a hand gate, turn left and left again across the bridge, walk up through Mill Field Wood,







across two fields, across Saddington - Kibworth Road, along Mill Lane into Smeeton W. Footpath between hedges, then through horses' field to the church. Over the road and along the path through the allotments.











Across road and through the ginnel (large alsatian barking in garden). Followed the path past the houses and up to the canal. Along towpath to the bridge.





Weather fine, warm but dull. The sun made a feeble effort to shine, but not for long. Dry underfoot.







Now to find an extra four miles or so for a group of us to do together!

I did this walk from Smeeton with Harry on July 17 .

Wood You?

Anybody a fan of wooden handlebar grips? I've been attracted to them for some time and have seen a few on vintage and custom bikes, but have not tried riding with them. I requested these from Bella Ciao, and they sent me a setto try along with a bundle of other stuff for the Superba prototype. The grips are handmade in the EU andBella Ciaocarries them as a special order item. Not sure whether I will actually use these on the Superba, but I wanted to see - and more importantly feel - what they were like.



Here is what the grips look like on a set of handlebars. They are not fancy, but they are classic, nicely finished, and ergonomically shaped. I don't know about Italian city bikes, but I think they would be great on a path racer with upside down North Roads.



I don't know whether I will like these in practice, but in theory I think they could work nicely. While modern bikes tend to come with heavily padded grips, over time cyclists can discover that they prefer a harder gripping surface. That may sound counterintuitive, but padded grips can tense up the hands, whereas hard grips can allow hands to relax. Still, it's possible that the wood could be too hard. I am also curious how well wooden grips hold up in the rain and humidity: Do they swell, crack or distort? Some of the vintage ones I've seen have been quite worn, but did not show any signs of cracking or warping.



Aside from Bella Ciao, there are a few manufacturers who sell different versions of wooden grips, including Dia Compeand Cardiff. I remember Rivendell used to offer some last year as well, but I no longer see them on their website. There were also wooden grips shown at NAHBS a couple of weeks ago, according to this picture via BikeSnobNYC. If you have experience with any of these or others, I'd like to hear about it. I will be installing mine over the weekend and will make it a point to test them on a long ride, leave them out in the rain, and otherwise abuse them to see how they behave in comparison to other types of grips.

First vs Second Winter of Cycling

With my second winter of cycling drawing to an end, I am thinking about the differences between this year's and last year's experiences. I am certainly a better cyclist this time around, and I've also gone through a great deal of trial and error as far as what works and what does not. Here are some notes comparing this winter to the last:



Choosing the right bike for winter

Before last winter began, it seemed that everyone around me was saying that I needed a "winter bike" - a "beater" type mountain bike. I considered it, but ultimately stuck with my Pashley and it worked perfectly well - as did my vintage Gazelle this winter. After my two winters' worth of experience in the snow and salt, I would say that my ideal "winter bike" is one with a chaincase, an internally geared hub, drum brakes, and stable handling. After seeing others struggle with frozen and rusted derailleurs, I would not ride a derailleur bike for transportation in the winter. After getting snow stuck under the calipers on one of my bikes and being unable to stop while going downhill, I will also never ride a rim brakes-only bike in winter.



Road conditions

Last year the amount of snow we had was typical for Boston: It snowed regularly, but not overwhelmingly, and the roads were mostly kept clear by the plows. My classic upright bike with its regular tires was just fine under those conditions, and I did not feel the need for studded tires. This winter, I admit it: Had I gotten studded tires from the start, life would have been easier. But who could have predicted that we would have one crazy blizzard after another this time around? It's too late now, but next winter I might buy studded tires and keep them around just in case.



Temperature control

Last winter this was a huge problem for me - my biggest problem in fact. I just could not get the layering right and would constantly feel either too hot or too cold. This winter I embraced wool, and these problems disappeared. I am converted to such an extent, that I have now sold or given away most of my non-wool clothing, and wear a combination of stuff I've knitted myself and stuff I've bought from technical wool brands like Icebreaker, I/O Bio, Ibex and Smartwool (I plan to write a comparative review of different items from these brands soon).



Recreational cycling

Last winter, I hung up my "sporty bike" (at the time my vintage mixte) in early November and did not retrieve it again until April. This winter I rode recreationally all through November and part of December, and managed to go on a couple of winter rides even after it began to snow. I also got a trainer and began to "cycle" indoors when it became apparent that this winter would me much worse than the last.



Adjusting expectations

If you live in an area with harsh winters, the simple fact is that you will likely cycle less during the winter season - no mater how tough you are. Though mentally I was aware of that last winter, I was not prepared for it emotionally and found myself in a constant state of frustration as a result. Despite this winter being much worse than the last one, I knew what to expect this time around and it was much easier to take. I still cycle for transportation, but my traveling radius has decreased. I also walk a lot, take public transportation, and spend more time working on projects indoors. That's just how it's going to beuntil (I expect) mid-March or so, and I have adjusted my expectations accordingly.



I know that many of my readers took up transportation cycling around the same time as I did, and are now going through their second winter as well. Have you noticed any differences? lessons learned that you could share with others? And for those who have been cycling for longer, does it get easier with each winter, or are there ups and downs depending on the year?