Before anything else, I shouldn’t have to remind you I am not a professional bicycle and/or accessory reviewer. Nevertheless, companies and PR people occasionally decide to send me something, and two years ago now Portland Design Works sent me their City Rover Power 700 light:
The timing was fortuitous, as I’d recently begun commuting by bike again, though not being a professional bicycle and/or accessory reviewer (see above) I don’t think I ever gave it a proper “review”–nor am I going to start now. But I am going to mention I’ve since assigned this light to my Platypus, which I rode home from the train station last night, and I’m always surprised to find the battery has plenty of juice in it even though I can’t remember the last time I charged it:
Granted, I don’t ride in the dark all that often, but if anything when you use an accessory intermittently you invariably find that when you do need it the battery is dead. So it seems to hold a charge quite well. Also, while the photo above is terrible (I am not a Professional Reviewer of Stuff, see above), it works very well–obviously not as well as the fancy-schmancy dynamo light on my G. Elmer Henderson…
…but certainly well enough to light my way through the dark quasi-rural pothole-ridden streets between my home and the train station, or the unlit bike paths of Upper Manhattan:
Obviously, dynamo-powered lights like the one on my Homer are fantastic, and they’re always there when you need them. If you’re riding at night day in and day out (or night in and night out), especially in an area without streetlights, clearly they’re the best way to go. However as a city-dweller and aging father I’m not exactly spending lots and lots of time on my bike after dark, and I’ll admit that a light like this one is more than sufficient for my needs. Plus, it doesn’t add any rolling resistance…not that I think it matters much, but still. Anyway, just figured I’d put in a good word for the light, because I’ve been pretty happy with it so far.
Moving on, yesterday I mentioned I was getting a full-suspension bicycle, and one reader noted it was April 1st, implying that this was some sort of hoax or jape. Indeed it wasn’t, and in fact it hadn’t even occurred to me that it was April Fool’s Day (or is that April Fools’ Day?), or as the French call it, “Poisson d’Avril,” which I believe involves hiding dead fish in people’s underpants. No, I was absolutely expecting a full-suspension bicycle that was “quite high-end but also bursting with cutting-edge technology,” and when I got home yesterday evening it was there waiting for me, much to the delight and amazement of certain other members of my household:
Welds and gussets really are pussy magnets, aren’t they?
They sure are:
She’s practically swooning.
Of course, I never said the bike was new; it’s a 1994 AMP Research B-3, and you can read all about it on the Classic Cycle site, though I’m going to read all about it in the Mountain Bike Action test that Paul included with the bike…
…a bicycle that shares the same provenance as the mighty and equally cutting-edge-for-its-day Vengeance Bike…
…and was designed by Horst Leitner, of the eponymous Horst Link. What’s a Horst Link? Well, a Horst is a Horst, of course, of course!
Need I say more?
No I needn’t.
So far I’ve only ridden it around the neighborhood, but I plan to remedy that soon:
Paul generally likes to torture me, but in an act of uncharacteristic charity he fitted it with a more upright COCKPIT (I know people don’t like that word):
Shifting is effectuated via thumbuarly-actuated Suntour XC Pro shifters…
…attached via cable to Shimano XT derailleurs…
…and frontal retardation is achieved by way of this Travel Agent-ed Avid (Arch Supreme I believe?) rim-pincer, from back when Avid was a boutique maker of trick aftermarket brakes and not another tentacle on the SRAM-O-Pus:
And of course the bicycle is equipped with shocks, both fore-ally:
And aft-ally:
If it looks hungry, it’s because it wants to eat those roots for breakfast:
I’d better go feed it.
