Unfolded NYC

Once upon a time, I worked for an exclusive, understated consulting firm that hosted an annual holiday party for the staff and a select few friends. One year, Mr. Unfolded decided to enliven this exclusive, understated event by bringing Don King. (Mr. U. negotiates boxing contracts.)

Don* was accompanied by Isadore, his longtime valet and bodyguard. The room was warm, so I offered to take Isadore’s bulky jacket. He smiled. “No thanks, ma’am, I’d best keep it on.” Riiiiight.

I thought of Isadore recently.  Shortly after picking up Monty, I stopped at Bicycle Habitat to buy a lock. (Hal Ruzal, the shop’s co-founder, likes to poke fun at cyclists’ lame bike-locking practices.)  The nice salesguy looked puzzled. “But…you have a Brompton. Why would you need a lock??” He humored me, selecting several locks and demonstrating how each was at best a minor hindrance to a dedicated thief. He asked if I had ever been refused entry to an establishment while toting a folded B. When I said no, he advised me to take Monty everywhere. “And if anyone gives you an argument, go elsewhere.”

So I’m going to be like Isadore. When I’m packin’ Monty, nothing and no one is coming between us. No lock required.

*Don was the hit of the party, to the surprise of all but Mr. Unfolded.

This mountain hill slope and I, we have issues. It’s steepish, bumpy and often crowded. I’m no longer nervous about riding down it, but climbing all the way up seemed an unattainable goal, until recently.

My first Brompton, an M3L, could get me just over halfway before I had to dismount and trudge. Now that I have six gears, I can cycle to the top! Still not a snap, but getting easier every day.

Last night I took this photo after achieving the summit. (Yes, I know it looks like nothing. Work with me here.)

That dot at the bottom is a girl beginning her ascent. I watched her pedal doggedly upward, and smiled at her when she made it, triumphant with her pink bike and yellow flowered helmet. (She was 9 or 10, I’m guessing.) “Was that easy for you or hard?” I asked. “HARD!” she replied. “Well, then, we are both brave and awesome!” I said. We fist-bumped. I would have asked for a photo, but reason prevailed: no doubt I had already muddied what she’s been taught about talking to strangers, even harmless-looking old ladies.

It was A Moment, even sweeter for being shared.

The first week with Monty has been terrific, but I feel like a kid who just learned where babies come from and is still a little hazy on the specifics. This is my first bike with more than three gears, and I have only the sketchiest grasp of bicycle mechanics.

As any Brompton devotee knows, Monty achieves his six speeds through an internal hub with three gears, controlled with a right-hand lever, and a two-position derailleur, controlled with a left-hand lever. Brompton enumerates the possibilities as follows:

A rider in Hong Kong shared a helpful video.

The derailleur is shifted while pedaling, the hub while coasting. All quite simple to manage in practice. But here’s the rub: my friend The Brompton Diarist, an endless (and endlessly patient) source of Brompton knowledge, explained that one is supposed to move through the gears consecutively. Meaning that, if I want to shift from 4th gear (derailleur lever up, hub lever in the middle) to 1st gear (both levers down), I should:

• move the left-hand lever down (3rd gear)
• move the left lever up and the right lever down (2nd gear)
• move the right lever down (1st gear)

That second step seems so counterintuitive, doesn’t it? On Saturday I joined one of the fun/free rides offered by NYCeWheels, in part because I hoped Jack would help adjust Monty’s fit. (He pulled the handlebars toward me slightly, and suggested I tilt the Ergon grips up too. Much better!) I asked him how he handles six gears. He told me he relies primarily on the hub gears, employing the derailleur lever only for fine-tuning. But he agreed that for moving quickly from high to low, or vice versa, it’s good to go consecutively. Our group did a full loop around Central Park, which includes some reasonably steep inclines. I practiced shifting and found I was able to climb hills easily in 1st or 2nd gear.

For the flat terrain of my daily commute, 4th gear is proving ideal. It offers a little more resistance than the middle gear on Maggie, my lost/lamented M3L, and my legs are already feeling stronger from the extra effort. This morning I discovered that 3rd gear is good for cobblestones.

I can’t imagine when I’d use 5th or 6th, but I’m still learning.  (The mommy and daddy do what??) 

The pain of Maggie’s loss is abating, helped along by the new man in my life. Say hello to Monty, a dashing M6L. Here he is from the right –

And from the left –

The guy doesn’t have a bad side. Isn’t he handsome? The name popped into my head during our first ride, and I rather like its ambiguity. Which Monty: Clift? Hall [or his problem – former probability geek here]? Field Marshal? Python? All of the above, and no doubt his own personality will emerge more fully as we get acquainted. (For a man so devoted to his stuff, Mr. Unfolded really shouldn’t snicker about my bicycle’s name and gender. Brompton riders know these are more than piles of metal to us.)

I’m already in love.  Several upgrades introduced in 2013 have made the ride smoother and steadier. The gearing is quite intuitive to manage, and I look forward to employing all six speeds on the upcoming NYC Century ride. Best of all, the seat is utterly comfortable. Among my sharpest regrets at losing Maggie was that nicely worn Brooks saddle; I expected it would take a while to break in a new one. What a nice surprise!

On Saturday, Monty and I easily scaled a hill that used to make me dismount halfway up. I crowed over our achievement. He was nonchalant.

At his rear is the Specialized Dirt Bag, which earned a thumbs-up from My Orange Brompton. I appreciate its sleekness and capacity, but for everyday riding I’m devoted to the Carradice zip roll. My new one just arrived from Calhoun Cycles in DC and I couldn’t wait to attach it; here’s Monty stashed under my desk at work.

One critical accessory is still needed: a lock. Even if I never have cause to use it, I want one with me for peace of mind.

Sincere thanks to all who offered condolences and advice on Maggie’s theft. I’m ready to move on with my new love!

One moment Maggie was there. And then she wasn’t.

my last photo of Maggie

How I could be so shockingly, senselessly stupid? Can I blame endorphins? Early Saturday morning, I rode downtown and took an exercise class. Then I headed over to Lafayette Street, which was closed to car traffic for Summer Streets, an annual event billed as “part bike tour, part walking tour, part block party.” The plan was to ride up to Chelsea, where a young chef friend was doing a cooking demo.

The day was lovely, a bit cloudy and not too warm. The street was full of people strolling, chatting and cycling. I saw two Bromptons outside Bicycle Habitat, and stopped for a nice talk with the owners. It was such fun to sail up a normally car-choked street! My cheeks ached from grinning.

When I reached the site of my pal’s demo, I parked Maggie – unlocked! – and darted into the crowd for a minute to look for my friend. A minute was all it took, of course. A man standing nearby said he’d seen a guy unfold Maggie and ride away. “You should have locked it,” he said. Gee, thanks.

The police arrived quickly, took my statement and didn’t make me feel worse than I already did. They were impressed that I was able to email them a photo of Maggie and provide her serial number. They were not optimistic that I’d see her again.

I got home, curled into a ball and cried.  Mr. Unfolded listened patiently to my breast-beating, then encouraged me to go buy a new bike. “I don’t deserve a Brompton!” I wailed. He rolled his eyes, agreed I’d done a really stupid thing, and told me to get over it. So I let him drag me to NYCeWheels.

This time, I opted for an M6L. The 2014 model (same as the 2013) has several improvements over the 2012, including better brake levers and a sturdier chain guard. In homage to Maggie, I stayed with black, a Brooks saddle and a blue/black Mini O bag. I added a set of  Origin 8 Light Bars, sleek and very bright.

I picked up my new bike on Monday. Name is still under consideration as we get acquainted. The Brooks saddle is comfortable already, and I’m experimenting with all the combos that six speeds allow.

And I am never, never letting this one out of my sight. My Saturday euphoria, and the festival atmosphere of Summer Streets, lulled me into believing that NYC is a benevolent place – a heartbreaking, costly mistake that I won’t make again. Homeowners’ insurance will likely cover most of the expense, but I feel like I’ve lost a friend.

Goodbye, Maggie. You served me well, and I should have looked after you better. I hope your new rider enjoys you as much as I did.

Here are Maggie’s details, should anyone happen to see her:

• Black 2012 Brompton M3L, serial no. 1209219098, frame no. 380949
• Brooks B17 Ladies’ Saddle
• Ergon handlebar grips
• Light & Motion front light
• Planet Bike Blinky rear light
• Brompton toolkit
• Monkii water bottle clip
• Tiller polished stainless chain guard
• Ortlieb Mini O bag (blue/black)
• Carradice zipped roll bag (green canvas)

I usually cycle in street clothes, often in a skirt or dress. (“Can I ride in this?” has become a major criterion when I shop for new duds.) Depending on wind speed and direction, this entails some risk of exposing more leg than I’d like. It’s a pain to keep tugging at a hem while I’m pedaling.

A friend just shared this brilliant, simple solution.