Free 'Superba' to a Woman in Need

Talk about the kindness of strangers... Even as I announce this I find it hard to believe, but here goes: A reader of Lovely Bicycle wishes to donate a Bella Ciao "Superba" to a woman who cannot afford a nice bike. The bicycle has already been pre-ordered and paid for, and it will be available as soon as the Superba bicycles arrive in May. The idea was the donor's, not mine, and I was as surprised as you probably are by the offer! Please read on for the details:

Criteria
The recipient will be a woman, who is actively interested in owning this particular bike, and is in a situation of financial hardship. The recipient must be located in the USA or Canada. To learn more about the bicycle, please see here and here. This bicycle will fit persons 5'5"- 5'10" and note that it has a coasterbrake.

Entry Instructions
If you would like to be considered, please email me privately to "filigreevelo-at-yahoo" with the subject line "Free Superba" and tell me why you are the appropriate recipient. Please also include your height. The emails I receive must be from the women who want this bicycle for themselves and not from their spouses, relatives or friends. Deadline for submitting an entry is May 1, 2011.

Additional Information
I want to make it clear that this give-away is not sponsored by the manufacturer. The donor is an individual with no bike industry connection who is simply a reader of Lovely Bicycle. The donor wishes to remain anonymous and does not wish to take part in the selection process; that has been delegated to me. Entry emails will be read only by me and your information will be kept strictly confidential. The recipient's full name and mailing address will be disclosed to Harris Cyclery (in order to ship the bike), but not to the donor. One thing I ask, is that the recipient emails me a picture of themselves with the bike after receiving it, along with some feedback.

I will be collecting entries from now until May 1st. It will then probably take me a week or so to choose the recipient, and the bicycles will hopefully arrive shortly thereafter. If you have any questions about this give-away, please feel free to ask in the comments. And thank you to the person whose kind gesture makes this possible. It's hard to know what to say and I will do my best to select the recipient fairly.

Superba Progress

Ta-da! Look what I found sprouting up amidst the grass after the snow melted. Okay, not really. But I thought this would be a good time to update on the progress of the Bella Ciao Superba. I've already been told how nice the new frame colour looks, but this is actually the same colour as before - it's still my bike, only with different components. The colour does look different with the cream tires and brown accessories; less beige and more green. The production frame colour will be one step further in this direction: Imagine a mix between the shade you see here and that of my Roya H. mixte.

Some aspects of the prototype are still in flux, but this is the basic idea of how I envisioned the bicycle: Fully equipped, yet classic and very simple - inasmuch as such a combination is possible.

As I had hoped, the Sturmey Archer 3-speed hub works nicely with the overall design. Not only do I prefer its functionality over Shimano's (just a personal preference), but visually it is more in sync with how I see this bicycle. One of my favourite parts of the Bella Ciao frames are the elegant fork-ends with the chain tensioners. And to my eye, the Sturmey Archer hub - with its glorious indicator chain - integrates perfectly with these elements. I think I drove everybody a little nuts making sure they order the specific version of this hub I wanted, but I am comfortable with that.

The classic trigger shifter frees up the handlebars for a larger gripping area and looks very natural here. For the brake levers, I decided to go with the retro city levers from Velo Orange. They are long, providing good leverage from a variety of gripping positions, and I find the curvy form to be delightfully ergonomic.

The grips pictured here are just placeholders to match the saddle; I am not sure yet what the grips on the production bike will be. It's a tricky one, because I know that no matter what I choose it is likely that the new owner will replace them anyway with their own grips of choice. Therefore I wonder whether it is even worth it to focus on this aspect too much. My personal choice would actually be a set of hard classic plastic grips. But the Portuguese natural cork grips from Rivendell may be a bigger crowdpleaser, so those are a possibility as well.

One aspect of the bicycle that I initially wanted to change, were the crank arms. The stock ones are not too bad, but I had hoped to find something more classic. Turns out that's not actually possible, as none of the retro-styled cranksets on the market are available with chain rings that are compatible with the Bella Ciao chaincase. I've put a lot of effort into researching this a few months back and short of extremely expensive options, it is just not feasible to get different cranks. At that point I had to ask myself: Will the ladies this bicycle is meant to appeal to be willing to pay $150 extra for this bike in order for it to have vintage looking crank arms? And I think the answer is "no," because even for me it would not be worth it. So fairly early into the project it was decided that the stock cranks would remain.

More recently, I have also decided to keep the stock pedals. It is no problem at all to source a more classic rubber platform pedal and remain within budget, but here's the thing: After riding with the stock pedals since October, I find them to be functionally superior, so I think that replacing them would be a disservice to future owners of this bicycle. The pedals have been tenaciously grippy with all of my shoes in the rain and snow, and they are light. Rather than replace them, I think I'd like to get a couple of more sets from Bella Ciao for personal use on some of my other bikes.

The Schwalbe Delta Cruiser tires are a perfect match for the bicycle, and I decided to go with the version with reflective sidewalls for additional visibility after dark. The dynamo lighting system currently installed is passably elegant, but needs some tweaking - I don't like it that the headlight partially obscures the headbadge and sits so close to the headtube. The simplest and least expensive solution would be to place the headbadge higher  - I think there is room to raise it maybe another inch without it looking too weird. I am also trying to find a mounting bracket for the headlight that would place it further forward. Looking at other Italian city bikes, I see that many of them have the headlight installed higher up, mounted above the headset. However, this presents the additional problem of routing the wires for the dynamo lighting. Yet another possibility would be to ask the framebuilder to add a braze-on to one of the fork blades and mount the headlight there, but this would increase production costs, and might look a little bulky on this particular bicycle. So... I am still thinking about this one.

And finally, the rear rack. To be honest, this has been a more challenging endeavor than anticipated, and I do not as of yet have a finished prototype that is financially feasible for the production bikes. I thought carefully about whether I should even post pictures of the rack, lest it be a disappointment if in the end it proves impossible to offer the one shown in the pictures. But I decided to go ahead, because I would like to document the experience of working on this bike - including instances where "Plan A" ends up not panning out. I will eventually write a separate post about the challenges of rack design and production, but for now I am trying my best to get it done while fitting into the timeline and into the budget I have to work with.

It's funny, because I have been warned against taking this project too personally - but have been unable to heed that advice. I do take things personally when I am passionately involved in something; it's just how I am. As with everything, this experience has both highs and lows, and perhaps I take both to heart more than I should. But when I walk past this bicycle in our apartment now, I pause every time and think "Oh my God, this is my dream bike!" - so I think overall that's a good sign. More progress reports to follow, and if you have questions regarding availability please contact elton[at]harriscyclery[dot]net.

Component Porn... Film Noir Style

When we talk about "bike porn," all too often the attention is on the obvious stuff: the frames, the lugs, the cranksets, the handlebars. But what about the more subtle components? I know what you're thinking: I must be into some fancy, handmade, outlandish stuff. But I am really a girl of simple tastes at heart. Take, for instance, the little brass bell. Round, shiny and boisterous, I cannot get enough of these perfect little creations. All the world reflects in their polished surface, and they have seen everything your bicycle has seen. Sometimes I will be rolling along, and I catch a glimpse of the sky and trees reflected in my bicycle bell. How delightful to see my surroundings in miniature form, right on my handlebars.  

And then there is my excessive affection for the classic Sturmey Archer 3-speed trigger shifter. God, I mean look at it! Something about the shape, the font, and the overall design just says "stare at me, touch me, use me!" That little notch on the trigger so eager for me to shift gears. No other shifter has inspired such emotion within me. Am I being weird?

Although if you want weird, I will admit that I also have a thing for indicator chains. That's right:  those little bits of chain stretching from the hub. Oh how I yearn for glimpses of their jewel-like elegance - unobstructed by the horrendous plastic enclosures in which they are often housed today. Please, manufacturers: Free the indicator chains!

And I must not forget my longing for classic brake levers. I have tried to cope with standard modern ones, but how can I forsake the curves of these VO classics? The gentle tapering and the ball at the tip... A cold sleek modern lever cannot hope to offer the same tactile experience.

With all of these things now installed on the same bicycle, the overall effect is overwhelming. And it makes me realise that I am more taken with the looks of simple 3-speed components than with anything more complicated. Having a visible indicator chain on a hub is more important to me than the kind of derailleur I use, and my preference for the trigger shifter is by far more passionate than my admiration of bar-ends on roadbikes. Give me a classically outfitted 3-speed, and I will swoon with delight. What is your component porn of choice?

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 set to try along with a bundle of other stuff for the Superba prototype. The grips are handmade in the EU and Bella Ciao carries 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 Compe and 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.

Right Up Front

Some readers notice that I always have the front brake lever set up on the right handlebar on my bikes and ask me why, since the opposite arrangement is more typical in the US.  The quick answer is that I find the "right front" setup more intuitive and more convenient. I have owned bikes with both "left front" and "right front" setups, and consistently began to notice that I prefer to have the front brake lever on the right handlebar. So at some point we rerouted all of my bikes to have the front brake on the right side, and I've been happy since.

Some reasons why I prefer the "right front" set-up:

. My right hand is slightly dominant to my left, and it makes sense to squeeze the front brake - which is the dominant brake - with my dominant hand. 

. On bikes that are coaster brake or fixed gear and have only the front handbrake, it likewise makes sense to squeeze the sole handbrake with my dominant hand.

. Using the right hand for braking leaves my left hand free to signal turns and traffic maneuvers. 

. This one is tricky to describe, but under some conditions I use the front brake as a "stop rolling" device when quickly dismounting my bike, and this maneuver works best when the front brake lever is on the right. 

There are different views out there regarding which set-up makes the most sense, and Sheldon Brown has a nice write-up about it here. Ultimately, I think it is up to the individual cyclist to determine which feels more natural to them. And if the setup with which your bike came from the store doesn't feel right, be aware that this is something that can easily be changed by re-routing the brake cables.  

Skinny, Wide, or Stay the Heck Inside?

Okay, I promise not to make this another post with deep thoughts inspired by the snowpocalyptic weather in Boston. Because at this point, my bikes have reached a state that clinicians like to call "learned helplessness": The individual, convinced that no action on their part can alter their fate, just gives up and stops trying, possibly curling up in the fetal position and gently rocking back and forth. The snow won, dear readers. Oh yes, it won.

Yesterday, this was "the road" outside my house. Perhaps not surprisingly, last night I had a dream about this fellow. Though I am normally drawn neither to Surly nor to mountain bikes, I've had the hots for the Surly Pugsley since the first time I saw one a couple of years ago. I have no intention of getting one, honest. But part of me wishes I still lived in Northern NH, so that I'd "have no choice but to get it," you understand. I have seen pictures of that bicycle ridden through waist-deep snow, through soft sand, and crossing medium sized lakes. And something about the proportions seems just right to me, making the Pugsley an "ugly, in a handsome kind of way" type of bike. The Joe Viterelli of bikes, if you will.

But whenever I bring up the Pugsley with its 3.8" tires as an example of a dream "winter bike," someone inevitably replies that "bikes with skinny tires are actually better in the snow" - which, no matter how many times a proponent of that concept tries to explain it, does not make a great deal of sense to me. While I understand that skinny tires can supposedly pierce through the snow, I am skeptical. Doesn't that mean the bike could easily get stuck? And why do I see only mountain bikes when there's significant snow on the roads?

There is no doubt that my massively heavy, long wheelbase, 38mm tire Gazelle handles better when going over snow than the lighter and sprightlier 35mm tire Bella Ciao. But neither of them is sufficient when things get really bad. And oddly, on the worse days I actually find myself favouring the Bella Ciao, only because its easier to wield when acrossing enormous snowbanks. Poor bike, I look forward to seeing what the chain will look like under that nearly-but-not-quite-full chaincase after the winter is over...

If anybody out there is riding on streets that look like this, what bike are you riding and how is it working out for you? And if you say "skinny tires," I want pictures! As for me, I stayed indoors all day today - drinking tea, catching up on work, and daydreaming of crossing frozen rivers on a white Pugsley.

Superba Colour and Other Decisions: Your Feedback Welcome!

I will soon need to make a decision on the colour for the Bella Ciao "Superba" and would like to know what you think. I realise that the usefulness of asking this question is limited, as the persons answering might not be the ones considering buying the bicycle. But I think it's still helpful to me. The Superba is not meant as an overall crowd pleaser (that's an impossible task anyway!), but as something that will reflect my design aesthetic and will appeal to those who share it. Keeping that in mind, please feel free to let me know which, if any, of the above colour families you prefer [poll now closed]:

It will probably come as no surprise that I am leaning toward the greens. It's hard to get a good idea of a colour by looking at a small swatch on a computer screen, but the "pale sage" I am considering would be a more vibrant, less military version of the colour of my bike. A fresh, airy, Spring green. The "deep sage" would be a slightly darker, and also a bit more vibrant, version of the colour of my bike. The "mauve," "periwinkle," and "slate" would all be very subdued colours, close to gray. And of course, picture each colour choice paired with cream tires.

The other question I want to ask, has to do with a possibility of a gentleman's Superba - and I call them lady's and gentleman's, because that is what the frames are called in Italian, not because I am sexist! But anyhow, there have been some comments and emails from male readers expressing interest, so I've thought about it. But here are my concerns: First, despite the comments I am just not sure that the demand is there. And it's trickier to order the diamond frames, because they are available in four sizes (measured c-t). But the bigger issue, is that I have never ridden a diamond frame Bella Ciao, and therefore cannot make any endorsements regarding how it handles. It looks lovely, but nonetheless I have never ridden one or even examined one in person. So, keeping that bit in mind, do you still think a gentlemen's Superba is a good idea [poll now closed]?

My own inclination is to recommend that Harris Cyclery orders a couple of standard (non-Superba) Bella Ciao "Corvo Citta" Uomo bicycles first, so that either I or the Co-Habitant can ride them and form an impression of how they handle. But it will be nice to see what you think. Thanks in advance for the feedback on both questions, and please feel free to elaborate in the comments.

The Least Daunting Option

Well, it seems that we've been having one of two weather conditions in Boston lately: (a) blizzard, or (b) in between blizzards. When it's the latter, I have been riding my bike - sort of. To be honest, I would not be doing it if I didn't have to, because the road conditions are pretty bad. But the bus makes me motion sick, the nearest subway stop is a 15 minute walk from our house (longer in the snow), and the sidewalks are slippery. So except on days when the roads are completely impassable, cycling seems to be the least daunting option. Still, "least daunting" doesn't mean "easy," and I've had to make a number of adjustments to the way I ride a bike, in order to be able to do it at all.

For one thing, I cycle much slower than usual, because I am scared of hitting not only ice patches, but those mini-mountains of hard snow that seem to pop up when I least expect them, like some treacherous obstacle course. Cycling slowly allows me to see them in time to either brake, or figure out how to go around them safely (I am a slow thinker when it comes to spacial rotation tasks). Happily, there are almost no other cyclists on the roads, so there is no one to get annoyed at my crawling speed - I've found that I can go as slow as I like, and no one seems bothered. I guess to cars, it's pretty much the same whether I am cycling at 7mph or 20mph: Either way, they are faster than me and will have to pass me eventually.

I also simply accept that I will have to get off my bike and walk a lot - across impassable stretches of slush and even over snowbanks. Sometimes I'll walk for a quarter of a block, then get back on the bike and ride for a couple of blocks, then get off again, and so on. It's annoying, but still better than walking the entire way - at least to me. Warmer and faster.

Finally, I've been having to get really creative about locking up my bike. Most bike racks have been made inaccessible by the surrounding knee-deep snow. So I will usually chain my bike to a fence, or whatever is handy - often having to rest it on top of a snowbank.

While all this is kind of miserable, I also find it pretty funny. I am not a "hard core" cyclist by any means and I am extremely risk averse. "Wimp" would probably be the appropriate word. And yet I am one of the few people out there on a bike, which does make me question my sanity. But I guess there is no better motivator than having no other choice - or at least no alternative options that are less daunting. Cycling in slow motion through a winter wonderland is not so bad, after all, when I compare it to feeling nauseous inside of a stuffy bus, or slip-sliding along icy sidewalks.

Showing Off or Showing How? On Bicycle Blog Exhibitionism

I've been having a discussion with a reader about "the exhibitionist culture of bicycle blogs" and more specifically, about "those girly bike blogs" that, in his view, are the most exhibitionist of all. This is a theme that keeps coming up now and again, and so I would like to say a few words on the subject. Certainly there are elements of exhibitionism to photographing yourself regularly and then posting those pictures on a publicly viewable website. My intent is not to debate this. But consider the possibility, that this element is not the main point.

Human beings tend to learn by doing - or at least by watching someone else demonstrating the doing, which automatically causes the viewer to imagine themselves in the doer's place. Pictures that show a real person - ideally the author of whatever narrative is being presented - performing the behaviour described in the narrative, are more engaging to viewers. In other words, a photo of me cycling through the park, followed by the text "and then I cycled through the park" will make the reader "feel" the experience more poignantly than a photo of the park alone followed by the identical text. This has been demonstrated countless times - mainly within the genre of empathy, motor mimicry, and emotional contagion research - and it is why instructional videos most typically have a human narrator who acts out the instructions.

Even in the absence of visual cues, first person narrative in itself is more engaging to readers than other forms of narrative. That is why fictional stories told in the first person, or personal accounts of events, are more interesting and memorable for most people than scientific writing.

As a graduate student, I once devised an experiment where participants were given sentences to read that contained identical information, but were phrased either in the first person ("I placed the shoe in the bedroom"), in the third person ("She placed the shoe in the bedroom"), or in the passive voice ("The shoe was placed in the bedroom"). When asked questions about the information later ("Where is the shoe?"), participants recalled it best when that information had been embedded in first person sentences.  An interesting side-effect of this, was that people also tended to give more elaborate answers about the first person sentences, frequently adding extra information. For example: "The shoe is in the bedroom, on the rug by the dresser." To me, this means that the first person voice encouraged the reader to use their imagination more, essentially re-enacting the sentence in their mind and picturing themselves taking the shoe to the bedroom. Where would they have put it? Apparently on the rug, by the dresser.

It does not take a huge mental leap to see how this relates to bicycle blogs. By telling personal stories and by posting pictures of themselves engaged in the activities they write about, the so-called "girly bike blogs" make the cycling experience more poignant and memorable to a world wide web audience (especially if the members of this audience are not already bike enthusiasts) than dry, technical blogs ever can. While I seldom post diary-style entries where I discuss what I did that day, what I wore, what I had for lunch, etc., I enjoy other blogs written in that format very much and I find them helpful. Blogs like that do not only introduce ideas as mere concepts: They enable viewers to imagine integrating those ideas into their own lives. To call it gratuitous exhibitionism is to grossly undervalue their impact on audiences.

When it comes to females in particular, there are layers upon layers of self-consciousness about how we are perceived by others - formed by too many social, historical and evolutionary factors to mention here. But... so what? Depicting yourself as an actor - rather than a passive narrator armed with academic phraseology - is a means of connecting with an audience that is emotional and visceral. That might make it disconcerting to some, but it also makes it effective, as it taps into the most basic mechanisms underlying the human desire to communicate and learn. Sure, on some level, it may be showing off. But more significantly, it is showing how.

The Bella Ciao 'Superba' - My Take on the Italian City Bicycle

As mentioned previously, I am collaborating with the small European manufacturer, Bella Ciao, in developing my own version of their classic lady's bicycle model. This special edition bicycle will be available in late Spring 2011, exclusively at Harris Cyclery in West Newton, MA. I do not yet have a prototype to show you, but upon reader request I am making the announcement regardless. Read on for all the details!

About the Project
Last year I received a 'Corvo Citta Donna' bicycle (shown above with stock everything, other than the saddle and kickstand) from Bella Ciao as part of a barter exchange. My impression of the bicycle (you can read the review here) was very positive, but of course not without criticism. Basically, I absolutely love the frame design, the quality of construction, and the handling. But were it my bike, my choice of components would have been different. There was some debate about this between myself and Bella Ciao, and they did not agree with my criticism. But they found  my point of view interesting. And after some back and forth, they invited me to put together my own version of the bicycle - and I gladly accepted. Bella Ciao has now made a deal with Harris Cyclery, who will sell the bicycles in the US. If all goes according to plan, they should be available by May 2011. My role in the project is that of a consulting designer.

[the "Maestro," image via Bella Ciao]

About Bella Ciao
Describing their take on bicycles as "the poetry of freedom," Bella Ciao is a small company based in Berlin with an attitude that is both serious and tongue-in-cheek. Bella Ciao frames are handbuilt in Northern Italy by a family of framebuilders who have been in business since 1898 (see image above). They are then powdercoated and built up in Germany. The standard line-up includes cro-moly men's and lady's city models, deluxe men's and lady's models with Columbus tubing, and a single speed/ fixed gear model. There are occasional special edition bicycles as well. You can read about all of these on their website in German and English.

Why I like Bella Ciao bicycles
While I find the bicycles beautiful, what really attracts me is the performance. Of all the upright bicycles I have tried, I have found my Bella Ciao bike superior for long rides, and especially for hills. I do not say that lightly. It is an easy bike in every respect: easy to ride, easy to carry, easy to own. Additionally, I like it that Bella Ciao frames are fully lugged , including the fork crown. And they are handmade. There are other terrific details, such as the proprietary handlebars and wheels (yes, they make their own). All this is becoming increasingly rare even with classic modern bicycles.

The Bella Ciao 'Superba'
The Bella Ciao 'Superba' (pronounced: "su-PAIR-bah") will be a special edition lady's bicycle with a lightweight cro-moly frame, a Sturmey Archer 3-speed hub, cream Schwalbe Delta Cruiser tires, dynamo lighting and a rear rack. The specs as they currently are:

frame, chaincase, fenders
Based on Bella Ciao's cro-moly Corvo Citta Donna (lady's) frame with the classic "Frascona curve" of the top tube, with the additional feature of internal routing for the dynamo lighting; complemented by a full (two-sided) chaincase with opening at the rear and fenders.

size
The frames are 54cm and will fit ladies 5'5" - 5'10." To give you an idea of fit, I am 5'7" and this is how I look on my bike. The model in the pictures here is 5'10".

colour
The colour will be custom to this edition, most likely some shade of pastel green. Not the same green as you see on my bike (I think it's a bit too military for most people), but perhaps some version of sage. Or maybe not green at all and I'll have a reader's vote at a later point?

wheels and tires
700C proprietary Bella Ciao wheel rims of light, high-polish alloy, with cream Schwalbe Delta Cruiser tires.

gearing and brakes
3-speed Sturmey Archer hub with coaster brake, classic trigger shifter; front caliper brake with classic chrome city brake lever.

handlebars 
"Deluxe" (high polish) alloy Bella Ciao bars. The model I like are a sort of hybrid between Porteur and North Road style bars. Posssibly my favourite handlebars for a city bike thus far.

accessories
Brooks B72 saddle in antique brown, special grips TBA, brass bell

lighting
Internally routed, hub-generated dynamo lighting, front and rear, with standlight feature; classic look.

rear rack
There will be a rear rack that will elegantly suit the frame, and I am currently working out the details. If all goes well, it will be a custom handmade rack - fingers crossed!

weight
Including rack and lighting, total weight is likely to be around 33lb.

retail price
The price of the complete bicycle will be $1,490

availability
The 'Superba' will be at Harris Cyclery by May 2011. There will be 12 bicycles available. Harris Cyclery will take pre-orders with a non-refundable $300 deposit. If you would like to pre-order, please contact Elton Pope-Lance at 'elton[at]harriscyclery[dot]net'. I believe that 11 9 of the 12 bicycles remain at the moment. I am not involved in the sale of the bicycles, so please contact Harris Cyclery and not me with questions about purchasing.

Will you like this bicycle?
As someone who does not believe in "the" perfect bicycle, I can only say that it depends. What are you looking for? What features please or disappoint you in your current or previous bicycle? Or are you just looking for something different? Bella Ciao bicycles are light, elegant, nimble, and easy uphill. They are also comfortable and very simple. If you live in a hilly area and struggle with a Dutch or English Roadster-style bike, a Bella Ciao could be the perfect solution. However, if you need to transport 50lb of groceries and two children as part of your daily routine, I think there are more appropriate options. You might also find it helpful to read this post, comparing the different categories of upright bikes that are currently out there.

[edited to add:] As for my version of the bicycle specifically, please understand that it is exactly that - my version. Obviously it will not suit everyone's tastes, but I hope it will appeal to a dozen people in North America who cannot find what they are looking for elsewhere. If there is popular demand for an alternative version (non-coaster brake, diamond frame, etc), there could be another batch later. Also, for those interested in the standard production Bella Ciao models, there is a possibility that Harris Cyclery may be selling them in future - please express your interest to them directly.

I will post pictures once the 'Superba' prototype is built up, but realistically that will not be for at least another month. I will also write in more detail about being involved in this project, as some might find it interesting to know more about the industry. This has certainly been an educational experience for me so far, and I hope you like the end result. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

On Winter Skies and the Solace of Open Spaces

In a high school English class, we were once made to read an essay, called "The Solace of Open Spaces" by Gretel Ehrlich. I remember the piece only vaguely and don't want to spoil my memory's version of it by re-reading it today. It was about the great plains of Wyoming - or rather, about the author's reaction to their overwhelming vastness. I have never been to that part of the US and have not seen the landscape she describes. But I recall vividly the flash of self-recognition I experienced when reading her words. The solace of open spaces. Yes, that is how I feel.

Even as a child, I had the habit of wandering, of exploring - in a way that was driven not so much by curiosity or desire to conquer, but by what I can only describe as an emotional response to the act of moving through natural space. As a teenager I spent hours after school walking around the lakes near our house. And when I lived in England as a university student, there were these meadows that began just outside town and went on forever. I would walk through them, then turn around after an hour and lose myself in the views that surrounded me: The meadows stretched endlessly in all directions and the sky was close enough to touch. Just as the author of "The Solace of Open Spaces" describes, the vastness in itself felt sheltering - the outlines of the horizon creating the illusion of a domed structure.

In Boston, as in most cities, there is not much opportunity to experience vastness.  I can cycle to the Harbor to get my fix, but somehow that only reminds me of how far removed I normally am from such a landscape; it is not part of my everyday existence.

And then yesterday, I was crossing a bridge over the Charles River and looked up at the sky. The sky was everywhere. And it was a winter sky - such a surreal, piercing shade of blue can only manifest itself this time of year. The black branches of the bare trees almost looked like bits of lace trim against the satin-white ribbon of the icy river, and the expanse of the sky itself seemed otherworldly. I felt light-headed and comforted at the same time, and the speed of the bicycle, with the icy wind against my face, accentuated the experience. While I know that this is just my way of dramaticising daily existence, I am nonetheless thankful for it. Life in general happens mostly in our minds, and now my mind is filled with winter sky, the sensation of speed, and the solace of open spaces.

Memories of an Italian Christmas

In the winter of 1989-1990, my family and I lived in Rome. It was an unstable and nomadic time for us. My sister and I - then aged 5 and 10 - were home schooled during this period and spent most of our free time in the nearby park. We picked up a bit of Italian from the local children and were able to play with them. But mostly we observed. 

It's funny, the things we notice as children. I remember being stunned by the presence of snow and palm trees in the same landscape. I remember being upset about how ugly the road around the Coliseum was. I remember a man pushing a fruit cart outside our window every morning, singing "Arance! Mandarance!" And I remember the sight of several glamorously dressed women sitting on a park bench with their infants, breastfeeding while smoking cigarettes with a synchronised rhythmic energy. I have since been to Italy a number of times as an adult, but these childhood impressions of Rome remain prominent.

And then, of course, there was Christmas - Natale! The lavish holiday decorations, the lights, the musicians on the streets and the general festive atmosphere, served as an antidote to the stress of being in a foreign country. We were living in a small apartment, in a building full of other apartments - and between mid-December and the first week of January, there was a constant stream of gifts (mostly cakes, fruit baskets, and beautifully packaged bottles of alcohol) left outside of our door by our neighbours. These were accompanied by "Buon Natale!" notes, but no names or apartment numbers. We did not know whom to thank, or for whom to leave return gifts. When my parents asked our landlord about it, she assured them that this was normal: "They know that you are foreign and don't want you to be lonely." We were impressed and cheered by this thoughtful gesture that seemed to be such a matter of course for our neighbours. Most importantly, we felt wanted in the country, despite being strangers to it.

And I think ever since that childhood Christmas in Rome, that has been my association with Italy: feeling welcome and comfortable, despite not really belonging there. (Kind of like I feel on my Italian racing bikes, come to think of it.)  I always remember Italy around Christmastime, and this year even more so - as I ride my sleek Italian beauties through the wintry landscape.

I have noticed that I tend to be most interested in bicycles whose country of origin holds significance for me. Their history becomes more relevant that way, and they evoke warm memories. Happy holidays to everyone and happy winter cycling!

First Snow Report

I have been looking forward to testing my Bella Ciao ("Patricia") in winter conditions, and with the arrival of the season's first snow I finally got my chance. Before I go on, I will preface with the disclaimer / mini-announcement that I have begun collaborating with Bella Ciao on a special edition bicycle, which will be sold by Harris Cyclery in Spring 2011. I will have more details about that soon, but just wanted to make that affiliation known in the meantime.

Though I love the way my Bella Ciao "Corvo Citta" model handles, I don't ride it as often as I'd like, because I haven't yet installed a rack and lights. Now that winter has begun in earnest, that will be my next project - I just wanted to first make sure that I'd actually be able to ride this bicycle comfortably in snowy conditions. At just over 30lb, the Bella Ciao is considerably lighter than the likes of Gazelle and Pashley, and - justifiably or not - I am weary of lighter bikes when it comes to cycling in poor weather. To my relief, I had nothing to worry about and Patricia handled just fine after the first snowfall: She remained stable on slush, on slush mixed with salt, and on thin layers of packed snow.

As with other bikes I have ridden in such conditions, I switched to a lower gear and went slower than usual. The bicycle remained sturdy and cooperative. When braking in slush, I used the coaster brake only, which I find easier to modulate on slippery surfaces. The bike also did well cycling on the slippery stretch of brickwork that was part of my route. As far as safety goes, I feel comfortable using the Bella Ciao as a winter commuter in Boston and will get on with the lights/ rack installation so that I can use it more this winter.

While the brave Patricia performed admirably, my first snow commute of the season was not entirely stress-free. Driver behaviour was chaotic and there were few cyclists out on the roads. Several times, I got spooked by a car's ambiguous maneuvers and ended up cycling through a mess of wet snow by the curb. Based on last winter's experience, I know that things will get better once drivers get into their "winter mode". Meanwhile, perhaps there is a reason why most cyclists seem to have chosen to wait it out!

What I found fascinating about the Boston "bike scene" last winter and also noticed yesterday, is that often the only bikes on the streets seem to be those that are least suited for winter cycling - for instance, aggressive roadbikes with narrow tires and no fenders. Where are the fully equipped city bikes? Where are the rugged vintage 3-speeds?

It could be, that the aggressive roadcyclists are the ones most likely to brave these conditions, while, ironically, having the worst possible bikes for doing so. That's too bad, because winter is the time when features like fenders, stable handling, wide tires, internal gearing, and an upright sitting position, really make themselves felt. Last winter, I was extremely appreciative of the Pashley I used to own, and this winter it looks like I will do equally well on the Gazelle and Bella Ciao.

Though Patricia and I did not have many companions on our first snowy commute of the season, we hope that the winter wonderland will coax more cyclists outside soon. Once the drivers calm down, it is really not so bad: Just take it easy, dress warmly, ride a sturdy and properly equipped bicycle, and enjoy the beautiful landscape!