In a neighboring town there is a jolly fellow of more than four score years who has a hobby that is also a service to the community. He repairs and trades in bicycles. Not the high end, high dollar things, what he deals with are the older, sometimes abused, and generally no longer loved examples.
As he must have thought this was an item that might interest me; he gave me a call. He described it as being in a distressed condition, but a bit unusual, so perhaps I might like it.
I arrived at his place about an hour later to investigate. It was, one could say, a mostly undamaged disaster! It was missing the headlamp, the tail lamp lens had a crack top to bottom, and someone had dispensed with the three speed gear selector and cable, but otherwise everything was there and straight and painted black. Jet black. Everything! Even the spokes, the tyres, the hand grips and the mattress style saddle failed to escape the cans, and there must have been many, of black spray paint.
Beneath all that I could recognize that it was intended to fold with the use of a large Allen key that was still in the spray painted grommets along the seat tube. Before I tried to demonstrate this feature I offered him fifteen dollars for it as it was, which he quickly accepted, probably fearing I might offer even less if the air escaped from one of the tires before he could get the bills into his pocket.
I put the Allen key to work and quickly had it folded to stash into the back of the family suv.
As he goes about his work in that special pragmatic fashion that sometimes leaves the result functioning yet not quite serviceable, I suspect that the hose clamp along the chain-stay holding the short chain from the hub in middle gear might have been his idea of a good start. After getting it safely stashed in the back of the Jeep, I negotiated the purchase of some other miscellaneous parts.
When I got it home, I couldn't resist unfolding it to take it for a short ride around the neighborhood. I was pleasantly surprised that the necessary adjustments to saddle and handlebars could be made with little difficulty. I mention this because I have had the misfortune of purchasing an otherwise desirable Panasonic ten speed with a seat post that resisted all manner of coaxing to allow adjustment. As the rims and even the tyres were treated to the paint, it was no surprise that the front brake stuck the first time it was used. However, incorporated into the three speed hub is a coaster brake which did its job nicely.
Of course, having three speeds available is so much better than having only one so I decided the first task would be to get the other two available. I went digging through my spare parts bin and didn't find what was proper, but I did find a collection of bits that could be made to work. I used a trigger shift from what once was a triple chain-ring mountain bike and made an adapter to connect it to the three speed hub. I'm on the lookout for a serviceable twist grip like those sometimes found on older three speed roadsters, which I think would be the elegant solution. The wait for that continues.
I became distracted with other things, so it was quite a while before I was once again enjoying Mia Amica.
After our return from a summer vacation, my lovely wife mentioned [more than] a few times that it was a bit unsightly to have this bike parked, conveniently [conspicuously] in the car port, so I folded it up and stashed it in the back of my go-to-work truck. A few weeks later, while on my way home, the little truck suffered a mechanical failure of the sort that couldn't really be fixed on the side of the road. It is times like that when the concept of the folding bike really shines. After limping [actually coasting, as no power was being delivered to the wheels] to a safe place where the tow truck could easily fetch it, I pulled mia Amica from the back, unfolded it, and continued on my way. True, I could have called AAA immediately rather than later, but even then I could have better enjoyed the forty minute or maybe more wait by cycling a couple of miles to a Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks.
It took a few days to get the little four wheeler back in service, so I had an opportunity to spend some more time with the Italian friend. I began to appreciate even more how this small but sturdy cycle so smoothly converted donuts to motion. The upright posture that it encourages feels both dignified and relaxing. It was quite refreshing to enjoy the sights, the sounds, and the fresh air as the miles passed beneath the twenty inch wheels.
Mia Amica isn't a fragile lightweight, but rather sturdy and not at all twitchy. The rear rack is actually part of the frame, an interesting design I think, and I can't imagine a load that I would desire to carry that it couldn't handle.
I must admit that my beautiful wife has observed correctly. This Italian ride is no beauty queen. Perhaps it was when it met its first owner, but by now it would be more at home at a rat rod meet.
That being the case, when the liberal application of paint began peeling off the saddle, I decided that the least I could do was to recover that small area. It was a somewhat hasty decision so I worked with what I had available. By the time the hot glue gun was loaded with fabric glue and ready, I had located an old souvenir pirate flag. With that project completed, I decided that it needed a well worn pair of bags at the rear to store the loot, and one at the front to store some snacks and a couple of water bottles. Soon after this photo was taken I added period front and rear lamps from my part pile to give the dynamo something to do.
I expect to be writing more about this friend later, but now it seems like a good time for a ride.
Stefan
After our return from a summer vacation, my lovely wife mentioned [more than] a few times that it was a bit unsightly to have this bike parked, conveniently [conspicuously] in the car port, so I folded it up and stashed it in the back of my go-to-work truck. A few weeks later, while on my way home, the little truck suffered a mechanical failure of the sort that couldn't really be fixed on the side of the road. It is times like that when the concept of the folding bike really shines. After limping [actually coasting, as no power was being delivered to the wheels] to a safe place where the tow truck could easily fetch it, I pulled mia Amica from the back, unfolded it, and continued on my way. True, I could have called AAA immediately rather than later, but even then I could have better enjoyed the forty minute or maybe more wait by cycling a couple of miles to a Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks.
It took a few days to get the little four wheeler back in service, so I had an opportunity to spend some more time with the Italian friend. I began to appreciate even more how this small but sturdy cycle so smoothly converted donuts to motion. The upright posture that it encourages feels both dignified and relaxing. It was quite refreshing to enjoy the sights, the sounds, and the fresh air as the miles passed beneath the twenty inch wheels.
Mia Amica isn't a fragile lightweight, but rather sturdy and not at all twitchy. The rear rack is actually part of the frame, an interesting design I think, and I can't imagine a load that I would desire to carry that it couldn't handle.
I must admit that my beautiful wife has observed correctly. This Italian ride is no beauty queen. Perhaps it was when it met its first owner, but by now it would be more at home at a rat rod meet.
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| Amica Folding Bicycle |
I expect to be writing more about this friend later, but now it seems like a good time for a ride.
Stefan
