Bikes: a quartet from the past

Me, I've always wondered just how one mounted one of these machines, called in its day a penny-farthing or ordinary bicycle, according to a brief history of the bike at Wikipedia. It evolved from a French improvement on the earlier version velocipede at about the time that Prescott was becoming a town, which is why one resides in the transportation building over at the Sharlot Hall Museum. Not surprising, there were other problems -- balancing oneself up that high, bad weight distribution, plus the fact that the rider had to steer with the front wheel, which also held the pedals. Multi-tasking, old-style, as it were.

A chain-drive working the rear wheel was a major improvement introduced with the dwarf safety bike. I presume that dwarf refers to the modern-sized front wheel which replaced the big wheel. The model at the museum, a sign explains, is a safety racer, circa 1898, manufactured by the Pierce Cycle Co. of Angola, NY. Tubular tires were held to the wooden rims of the wheels by glue and air pressure. No brakes, either. To stop, the rider rocked the bike onto the front wheel while locking his legs against the pedals. Another sign notes that in 1896, a local man raced 100 miles on the old Black Canyon road in eight hours. (Silly me, I didn't take notes so I don't know if he was pedalling uphill or downhill. Makes a difference -- 4000 ft. elevation change...))

This is the ladies safety bicycle, made by the Niagara Bicycle Co., shortly after the turn of the century. It features a dropped frame and guards to keep long skirts out of the chain and wheels. To stop, the "spoon" brake was pushed down onto the front tire. And, forever after, at least into my own girlhood days, bicycles for girls were always distinguished by the dropped frame (and were never ever as comfortable as boys' bikes. Grrr. I think that was the point at which I became a closet feminist.)

An early tandem bicycle (built for two) surely resulted in frustrating physical quarrels -- either rider could steer, so the sign says. The one time I shared a tandem bike with a guy was a great disappointment: pumping the machine felt like one was working to move both bodies, not just oneself!

Pedaling the gospel

After spending the afternoon at the Square photographing musicians, I'm too tired to spend much time with PhotoShop. Consider this my picture of the day, which speaks for itself.

Biking the mountain outback

Today the town was chock-a-block full of bicycles. The occasion, the 6th annual Whiskey Off-Road, a trial by elevation for some 7-800 mountain bikers. No, I do not have pictures of all those buff folks as they maneuver up dirt roads and trails through the pines. Instead as befits an 82-year-old who sleeps late, I caught the tail end of one of three races...

(Note: Karoliina is much younger and full of more energy than I -- if you want a picture of the race over some of the rough terrain, her blog is the place to go. Wonderful coverage!

More: another batch of photos from the mountain at The Courier site.)

...starting over at the corner of Gurley and Park, where the right hand turn lane was set aside for contestants coming down from the hills.

Half of Cortez Street was also dedicated to the racers (above and below). Frankly, they looked pretty full of pep as they reached the end of the trail. Especially considering that the 15-mile and 25-mile cyclists probably had a climb of nearly 2000 feet on their course. On the other hand,
the final portion of the course was pretty much all downhill.

This racer, his run complete, takes a spin with his young son.

Here it is -- The End. At the Courthouse Square, of course.

A Must for every event these days -- an official T-shirt. Plenty of fancy bikes were on display (below).

Tired bikes (above) and bikers (below) rest. I suspect that none of the 50-milers were back from Skull Valley, however. I cringe just imagining their long, steady climb up from 4600 elevation to the top of the Prietas.

Some contestants take time out for a beer or other goody at The Palace, while others pack it in.

If you're curious as to the course laid out for the cyclists, full details at the Epic Rides site. Yes, maps are also available. The Courier has a good pre-race roundup of info and tomorrow's paper will doubtless offer more. You know what? Just looking at those racing pictures has worn me out!

The bike's in the tree. Where else?

Nothing out of the ordinary about this business sign on West Gurley. If anything, said the woman at the door who figured out why I was out front with a camera, the sight above (see below) might give clients a better clue as to the businesses' location.

"I tell 'em to just look for the bike in the tree." Apparently it's been there for nearly two months now, though I just spotted it yesterday evening. As you can see, quite a ways up.

My friend and I certainly couldn't figure out how the machine was hoisted into position. But it certainly makes a neat landmark.

Two days ago another transportation/tree combo caught my eye. In this event, two tires each topped by a platform, up in a tree. Much too big to be for most birds; too close to the house to be for big birds. Possibly positioned for a tree-climbing kid -- although, by me, there are just too dang many pesky branches in the way for a pleasant climb. Ah, well, it takes all kinds. Especially in our little city.

Bicycles built for Prescott?

Certainly this fat-tired mountain bike is. Even features the bike equivalent of a bumper sticker, boasting "Green/Wild". There are a fair number of dedicated bicycle riders in town and probably as many, if not more, to be found out in the forest.

Amongst my rescued pictures from last fall is this recumbent model. I'm sure I did have a picture of a chap riding such a machine, but it wasn't among the October-December group of pix I managed to save to DVD. My bro wondered just how well riders of recumbents can see the road from their position down so low.

Above, possibly day-trippers, more likely campers prepared for several days of mountain biking. The campers below certainly are.

This is an unusual arrangement. The rider is an advocacy leader; the rider, her daughter; I've seen the pair wheeling around town on several occasions. One Street is the international organization headed up by Sue Knaup, with an ultimate goal of bicycling as "a solution for climate change, health crises, oil wars and deadly street designs that threaten people around the world." A mighty big agenda for two wheels, I'd say!

Another famous local bike rider -- Derek, who has checked out probably every trail in the region on his bicycle, recording the results at the Sharlot Hall website. (BTW, for long-distance travel, he has only a motorcycle.)

At this stage of my life, I fear that my only bicycling would necessarily be aboard a motorized vehicle such as this! Not at all like Avus, for example, who biked a good 48 miles through the English countryside one day on his vintage Raleigh.

Yesterday's Bikes

Being as how Prescott is a beautiful little mountain city, it follows that there might be some interesting highways to reach it. And indeed there are. In particular, there's the White Spar (named after either a mine way outback or a great big white quartz outcropping on a mountainside in the Prietas.) Our visitors tried counting the turns in the 12 mile stretch coming into town one time. Two hundred & thirty. I don't remember if that counted those U's going in and out of big folds in the mountain as one or two curves. Anyhow, you can imagine how such a road would appeal to bikers. We get a lot of them.

Not to mention those who live here. This fine chrome was parked over at Hastings. Is the owner in for video, book or game?

Also at Hastings, this brushed metal model. I trust that the owner is named Buren or Dyke or Halen or Helsing. Otherwise, he/she is parked where he/she doesn't belong.

Speaking of what belongs where and to whom, I saw this many-speed real bike for sale over by Albertson's. The signs pleaded for money so a vet could go home. Then I saw the putative vet. I wonder where he ripped off this set of wheels.