New Beginnings

Earlier this week I finally made it to 12 Channel Street in South Boston - the new home of Royal H. Cycles, Geekhouse Bikes, Hubway Bikeshare and a number of other local bicycle-related ventures. 

Organised by the intrepid Marty Walsh of Geekhouse, HQ Boston is a new collective space in an industrial waterfront area dubbed the "Innovation District," and its acquisition has been the talk of the town among bikey people. It is big news. The space is big (24,000 sq ft), the commitment is big (10 year lease), and the scope of the project is big. The move shows there is growth in the local small scale bicycle industry, and implies a collective faith in this growth continuing.

Seeing the venue for the first time - an entire second floor of a warehouse-type building, still mostly open floor space - I was overwhelmed by the sheer blank canvas potential of it. Anything could happen here. Many things will, soon.

All morning long there was energy, movement. Planks scattered, walls going up. Men at work. At the same time it was oddly peaceful for a place with so much going on. The size of the space diffuses the construction noise. The light coming in from the outside casts a soft white glow over the debris. 

The floor space occupied by Geekhouse and Royal H has been set up and operational for months. There are beautiful machines, jigs, tools, frames and wheels suspended along the walls. 

The presence of the framebuilders is there.

Oh yes.

Walking through the space, I admit to feeling some nostalgia. The new venue lacks the personality of the old Geekhouse shack in Allston with its famous graffiti mural. It lacks the charm of the tiny old Royal H workshop in Somerville by the railroad tracks, just minutes from my house. There is no small neighbourhood feel here. Huge industrial buildings greeted me as I looked out the window, blocking the view of the Harbor. But even as I thought these things, I knew that it was the sentimentalist in me talking. Any place can become a neighbourhood once filled with neighbours, and the Innovation District is attracting new creative small businesses every day. Murals will be painted in due course. The personality of a space takes time to develop. 

This place has the potential for growth and collaboration that was not available to either of the occupants beforehand, and the excitement of this is almost tangible.

The spirit of working together is in the air. Though I came to meet with Bryan of Royal H., I later encountered Shane - the man behind BostonBiker. I've corresponded with Shane in the past and I thought that we'd met before, but obviously we haven't because this was a totally different person. It took me a bit just to wrap my head around that and readjust my mental image of him, but soon we were giddy with talk of joint projects involving Shane's skillz and mine. 

But back to the main purpose of my visit: I am working on a new mixte prototype with Royal H. Cycles. I sold the mixte Bryan made for me in 2009 to finance this, and although this was difficult I don't regret it. The new collaboration will be my design and Bryan's framebuilding. If the prototype works out and is cost-effective, the idea is that it would become a model available to order. I am not thinking of this as my personal bike and not getting attached to it. Very possibly I will sell the prototype, particularly if we end up having to make another. There is so much to say about what I hope this bicycle will be, but in these early stages I am too nervous and excited to talk about it too much. As far as form, I can say that it will be a low-trail 650B mixte with curved twin lateral stays. Fully lugged, with lots of modified lugwork. As far as function, my hope is to make a bike that will be suitable for both urban and long-distance transportation, including over hilly terrain, optimised for women who ride in their everyday clothing. There are lots of details regarding what this involves in my mind and why, and I look forward to sharing them.

In the meantime, it looks like I will be paying these gentlemen more visits over the summer, which is certainly not a bad thing. It will be wonderful to watch HQ Boston develop. If anyone local is interested in joining, there is space available and rent is cheap. Things are happening in Boston. Here's to new beginnings. 

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National Character

While many countries are rich in bicycle heritage, some have particularly strong associations with distinct styles of bikes: the Netherlands with the omafiets and the bakfiets, France with the mixte, porteur and randonneur, England with the roadster and the elaborately lugged "lightweight," Italy with the Frascona curve and the racing bike, the US with the cruiser and the mountain bike. Far from arbitrary, these connections can be revealing about the history and the cultural values of the country where each design developed, and this aspect is always interesting for me. 

Some connections are obvious, while others more subtle. Why for instance, did some countries (England, Holland) favour the loop frame design for step-through bicycles, while the swan frame is the dominant design in others (Sweden, Austria)? Did it have to do with women's fashions at the time these bicycles were developed? What accounts for the development of low trail vs mid/high-trail geometry and the tradition to carry luggage on the front vs on the rear? There is nothing I can think of that is country-specific that would explain this. And what about the early preference of derailleurs to internally geared hubs in France, even on city bicycles? Things like this are constantly going through my mind when I look at different bicycles and think about their history.

When it comes to building bicycles today, the national characteristics of a particular design continue to play a role, while also meshing with other traditions. European manufacturers have used American mountain bikes for inspiration. American builders and manufacturers have used Dutch bikes and French porteurs for inspiration. The end product inevitably reflects an interesting mix of historical traditions and cultural values.

As I was working on, then riding, and then writing about the Randonneur over the past 8 months, I keep thinking how interesting it was that this old French design is now thriving (relatively speaking of course) in the US, with fairly minor modifications from the original. I suppose it makes sense: There is lots of land here, lots of places to travel, and Americans value speed - hence the growing popularity of randonneuring. Add to that the custom bicycle boom, and suddenly American framebuilders - for whom only three years ago "clearance for wide tires" meant 28mm - are building 650Bx40mm bikes with elaborate custom racks and cantilever brake bosses - an entirely normal feature now thanks to the popularity of cyclocross. Since American culture is a mish-mash of other traditions, it seems only natural that US builders are inspired by French, or Italian, or Dutch bikes. But what about a country with a very distinct tradition of its own? Can you see a low trail randonneuring bicycle made by an English builder, or is that too strange? I've been discussing a possible project with Mercian Cycles, and if it works it could be interesting in that respect. The national character of bicycles is increasingly fluid and playful, and some traditions are kept alive through other countries' takes on them. 

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The Randonneur Experiment: a Review

Throughout the Spring and Summer of 2011, I collaborated with Royal H. Cycles to create a classic low-trail 650B randonneuring bicycle, then test rode it for 220 miles before it was delivered to the new owner. The project was inspired by Jan Heine, whose championing of this type of bicycle made some of us rabid with curiosity. This review has been long in the works. In parallel I've been preparing an article about the same bike for the Bicycle Quarterly, and needed to make sure that its content did not overlap too much with this write-up. Now that the BQ article is finally finished, I feel that the project is complete and would like to reflect upon it here.

If this is the first you are reading about this bike, then you may want to start here before proceeding:

. Making Sense of Rivendell's vs Bicycle Quarterly's Philosophies
. A Beautiful Experiment
. Lovely Bicycle x Royal H Randonneur
. 650B Rivendell Sam Hillborne and Randonneur Compared

The posts above describe how the idea for the bike came about, as well as its construction and features, so I will not cover the same ground again here. At some point in the near future I will also write more about the project itself - what it was like to work together with a framebuilder and what I learned in the process. But here I will describe my impressions of the bicycle itself - particularly the aspects that were novel to me. Of course being involved in the bicycle's design, it would be somewhat absurd to either praise or critique its aesthetics and such. The point of this experiment was to form an impression of how this type of bicycle handles, and that is what I will focus on here.

The Low Trail Mystique

To briefly summarise, the Randonneur is a lugged steel low-trail bicycle with 650Bx42mm tires, fenders, dynamo lighting, front and rear racks, and a handlebar bag - made in the style of the 20th century French constructeurs. "Low-trail" refers to the front-end geometry of a bicycle and it differs from the typical mid/high trail geometry of most roadbikes today. Among classic and vintage bicycle enthusiasts, there is definitely a mystique surrounding the low trail randonneur, and dramatic descriptions of its handling abound - made all the more dramatic, I suspect, by the fact that this type of bicycle is fairly rare and few have actually ridden it. Certainly that was one of the factors that made me want to try it. The other factor was that Jan Heine's description of the bicycle suggested a combination of speed, responsiveness, comfort, and all-terrain capability that I found attractive.

The biggest surprise about the Randonneur once I began to ride it, was how "normal" it felt. Based on all of the things I had heard and read about low-trail handling by the time the bike was ready, I expected to be blown away by a radically different handling, which I would either love or hate. Instead, the bike felt... like a bike! When I mentioned this earlier, some interpreted it as my implying that I was disappointed with the Randonneur. However that is not what I meant to express at all. I simply meant that I did not find low trail handling to be "difficult" or unusual. While the Randonneur did have some interesting handling characteristics, it felt intuitive to ride and I think that my experience of this is important to communicate. It seems to me that the mystique surrounding low-trail geometry needlessly intimidates people.

So what did feel different about the low trail handling, even if I found it within the range of normal? Mainly, it was the way the bicycle behaved on turns. At slow speeds I found that I had to be slightly more active when turning than on other road bikes I'd ridden, to pay more attention to the act of turning if that makes sense. Interestingly, this made tight turns easier as opposed to more difficult: I felt as if I were more in control of the turn. I also noticed that on high speed descents along winding roads it was easier to keep my line of travel along the road's curvature; the Randonneur did not "resist" turning at high speeds as I sometimes feel typical roadbikes do. That said, all of this was rather subtle - at no point did this difference alarm or shock me. I would notice the unique behavior on turns and think "Oh neat, so it wants to do this and not that" - as opposed to feeling as if there was anything wrong. It's a different feeling is all, and I rather liked it.

Another outcome of low trail (though this is not about handling per se) is that it allows even small bicycles with fat tires and fenders to avoid toe overlap without the need for an overly long top tube. For me this is a huge deal, because I strongly dislike toe overlap and I ride small bikes. The fact that low-trail geometry automatically eliminates it as a concern is very appealing.

While yet another aspect of the low trail design is said to be its superior ability to handle a front load, in this respect my experience is unhelpful. I rode the bicycle with and without the medium Berthoud handlebar bag pictured here, and did not notice a significant difference. It felt fine with the bag. It felt fine without. Perhaps this lack of a difference is the point - meaning, you can add a full handlebar bag and the handling remains the same. However, some believe that a low-trail bike is meant to be ridden with a loaded bag at all times and will feel unstable without it. This I did not experience.

Best of Both Worlds?

The Bicycle Quarterly's descriptions of randonneuring bicycles suggest that they are essentially fully equipped, comfortable racers - thus offering the best aspects of touring bikes and racing bikes combined.

For me, the speed of the Randonneur was not quite on par with that of a racing bike (namely, the Seven Axiom I'd tried over the summer). However, the Randonneur was faster than my Sam Hillborne. It was also faster than various vintage roadbikes I've tried.

The weight of the complete bicycle (including bottle cages, MKS Touring pedals and handlebar bag) was around 26lb (for comparison, my Sam Hillborne is 31lb with a similar setup), which is fairly light given all the stuff it is outfitted with, but not racing bike territory. The standard diameter tubing made it easier for me to carry the bike (my hand could close around the top tube, whereas with oversized tubing it cannot), which was much appreciated.

As far as comfort, the Randonneur was the feather bed of bicycles. While I have no complaints at all about the comfort of my Rivendell, the Randonneur felt even better, as well as less fatiguing at the end of a ride. In part this may be due to the flexible, standard diameter tubing. Of course given this lightweight and flexible tubing, bicycles like the Randonneur are not suitable for carrying as much weight as touring bikes.

Notes on Components

I won't go over all of the components this bicycle is fitted with, but would like to highlight the ones that were new to me or made an impression.

As mentioned earlier, I loved the Grand Bois Maes handlebars with their flat ramps and parallel drops. I am addicted to Campagnolo ergo levers at this point, and the Veloce model here (also on my Rivendell) is an economical option that works perfectly well for me. I prefer the Schmidt SON dynamo hub on this bicycle to the Shimano hub on my own bike, and the Edelux headlight is the nicest dynamo light I have tried thus far. The Grand Bois Hetre tires I love so much - both on the Randonneur and on my Rivendell - that I cannot imagine not owning a bike fitted with them. I was impressed with the Nitto lugged stem, truly a work of art. The Berthoud handlebar bag intimidated me somewhat with its beautiful styling, but the multiple sizes it comes in might make it a more convenient alternative to the enormous Ostrich handlebar bag I have on my own bike.

In the process of riding this bike I also discovered that I prefer the men's Berthoud touring saddle to the women's. I never wear skirts on roadbikes anyhow, and the longer nose and slightly narrower saddle feels even better here than the shorter, wider version on my own bike.

I am not certain what I think of cantilever brakes - not just on this bicycle, but in general. On fast descents, both the Randonneur and my own canti Rivendell are rather effortful for me to stop. These brakes are supposed to be very powerful and are the classic brakes to use with this style of bicycle, so I am not sure what the alternatives are. That said, almost everyone I know loves cantis, so I might just be an anomaly (I do have very weak hands).

If I were speccing out this bicycle from scratch today, the one change I would make would be to go with the new Rene Herse crankset (which was not yet available last summer). This would be a more aesthetically appropriate (albeit much pricier) option than the Sugino Alpina crankset we used, and its gearing versatility would have allowed us to use a short-cage rear derailleur for an overall more classic look to the drivetrain. None of this however would change the bike's functionality.

I was quite happy with how the Randonneur worked as a whole, including components and accessories. Nothing rattled loose or malfunctioned in the course of my test rides, which included road and gravel.

Verdict

Based on my experience with the Randonneur, my impression is that this type of bicycle combines some of the best features of road-racing bikes and all-terrain touring bikes, but does not replace either. If I owned this bicycle, I would still want a pure road-racing bike in addition. And for those interested in fully loaded touring, the Randonneur would not be the right choice for carrying that much weight. But for self-supported long distance events, endurance events, recreational and nature rides, and anything involving off-road trails and mixed terrain I believe this would be just the ticket - both for competitive cycling and for pleasure. The standard diameter tubing, wide 650B tires, fast and responsive handling, fenders, lights and moderate luggage make it an option worth considering for those who feel that touring bikes are overbuilt for them, while road/racing bikes are unsuitable for real-world conditions. In my view, the low trail geometry is not nearly as quirky as some suggest, and has the additional benefit of avoiding the dreaded toe overlap.

A question I've been asked a number of times now over email, is whether I plan to get a bicycle like this made for myself and whether I would recommend it to others. The first part of this question is tough to answer, because if I did get a bicycle like this then it would replace my Rivendell - I neither need nor can afford to own two 650B road-to-trail bikes! So I just don't know yet whether I want to go through that upheaval. That said, I do think that a bicycle like the Randonneur is extremely appropriate for my style of riding, for all the reasons described in this review. If I did decide to replace my Rivendell with a lighter and faster bike with the same wide tires and handlebar bag, something like this would be it. As for recommending it to others, I don't even dare go there. We are all so different, and only you can decide whether a bicycle like this is suitable for your needs.

Afterthoughts...

An important aside here, is that when designing a bicycle like this, geometry and tubing choice are crucial. If you decide to have a classic low-trail randonneuring frame built, be sure the builder fully understands your request. It is popular now to refer to all bicycles fitted with fenders, racks, and tires wider than 23mm as "rando bikes," but the bicycle I describe here is a very particular animal and the builder needs to understand that - unless of course you can supply them with the full geometry and specifications. There is now also a number of ready-made randonneuring frames (though none of them fully lugged, as far as I understand) that may be suitable for those reluctant to go custom, including the Box Dog Pelican and the Rawland RSogn.

The length of this review makes me realise just how much information I have stored up about this bicycle. Stay tuned for the write-up about the project itself - including commentary on the framebuilder's work, detailed descriptions of the geometry and all that. And for those interested in the Bicycle Quarterly article (which will contain different content still), look for the Spring 2012 issue.

My sincere thanks to everyone involved in this project: Bryan of Royal H. Cycles, Jim A. of Harris Cyclery, and Jim P. the bicycle's owner - as well as to Jan of the Bicycle Quarterly for the inspiration and advice. More pictures here and here!

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My First Custom Bicycle: an Anniversary Retrospective

It's been about 13 months since I started riding my Royal H. mixte, so I thought it about time for a one year retrospective review. Together with my initial review and the earlier posts on the topic, this completes the story of my first experience with ordering a custom frame.

To summarise without repeating myself too much: This lugged steel mixte was built for me by Bryan Hollingsworth of Royal H. Cycles in 2009-2010. I described how I wanted the bicycle to look and feel, and he came up with the geometry and chose the lugwork and tubing. When the frame was done, the Co-Habitant and I built it up with components that we selected. For my initial review of the bicycle, please see here. A year later, my overall impression of it has remained largely unchanged. While in some respects I've become more critical of the bike after a year of use, I've also come to appreciate aspects of it that I had not even noticed initially. I will try to provide details on both counts.

Use History
Given that I ordered the mixte when my bicycle obsession was only starting to blossom and I knew next to nothing about frame geometry, this could have been a disaster. For example: While initially I wanted the bike for "touring" - which in September of 2009 I imagined myself doing in a skirt and on a semi-upright bicycle - by the time the summer of 2010 rolled around I had begun cycling with dropbars and my concept of "touring" had changed. Luckily, another thing that happened around this time, was that we gave up our car and suddenly I had the need for a long distance transportation bike. Unlike touring, I prefer an upright posture for transportation and I have to be able to ride in work-clothes, which usually involve a skirt. Thus, the mixte became a transportation bike - for which it turned out to be well suited.

I rode the bike throughout Autumn 2010, then hung it up toward the end of December and mostly rode my IGH (internally geared hub) bikes over the winter months.

In April 2011 the mixte was retrieved again, and has been in regular use since. It is my go-to bike for transportation-oriented trips of over 10 miles, and increasingly I found myself using it for shorter trips around town as well. I never had a computer on this bike, so I cannot tell you how many miles are actually on it.

Typically I will ride the mixte with a pannier, and recently I have also attached a small front basket in which I will carry additional items. The mixte handles fine with a light load in the front (i.e. whatever will fit in the basket) and a medium load in the rear.

Ride Quality
When I first began riding this bicycle, I spoke a great deal about its unusual ride quality, which at the time seemed mysterious to me. While my impressions have remained unchanged, I now understand a little better what is causing them. Basically, the frame and fork are quite flexible - more so than any bike I had ridden before or since. I can feel the bicycle "give" when going over a bump and I can feel it rhythmically "move with me" when I pedal hard in a high gear. This, in combination with the 35mm tires, makes it very cushy over pothole-ridden roads and also reduces fatigue on long rides. At the same time, the frame has what I would describe as compact, aggressive roadbike geometry: steepish angles, shortish chainstays, short wheelbase, mid-high trail. This makes it an impressively maneuverable, precise and quick-responding bike. The combination of that and the flex is unusual, and not everyone's cup of tea. However, I like it - and the more I own the bike the more I've come to appreciate it. The maneuverability and responsiveness have proven useful in traffic situations, especially as my bike handling skills improve and I am increasingly able to take advantage of its roadish features. The flex is a great relief over city potholes and long-distance rides: I never feel tired or "beat up." The bike accelerates quickly and likes to be in a high gear when going long distance. It is also a very light, effortless climber and going uphill is no trouble at all. So essentially what I have here is a roadbike with upright handlebars and a mixte frame, made comfortable via a greater than usual degree of flex.

Likes and Dislikes
Most of all, I like the ride quality, the compactness, and the light weight (< 25lb) of this bicycle. It is not only a fun and comfortable ride, but easy to take in and out of the house and, when necessary, to carry. I like the bike's versatility: I can take it grocery shopping or I can ride it to a meeting 10 hilly miles away, and gun it if I am running late. I like the set-up Bryan used for routing the dynamo lighting: a couple of subtle braze-ons on the inside of the fork blade and voila: It's neat and invisible. I like the stainless steel kickstand touch-points in leu of a welded plate. In general, the builder did a great job with the placement of the braze-ons for racks, front derailleur and other things: Everything is in the right place; everything is clean and precise. I like the quality of the paintjob, done by Circle A: Not a single chip after a year of use, which has included droppng the bike into thorn bushes. As far as the build, I am happy with most of it - in particular the fenders, racks and LED dynamo lighting that make this a fully equipped bicycle, while also keeping it lightweight.

As far as dislikes, I really have only one: toe overlap, which this bike has a bit of. I don't think I mentioned it in my initial review, because I didn't notice it until I began using the bike frequently for transportation. I go through stages where I think that maybe it's okay or not even there, but then occasionally I experience it and it bothers me. We switched the cranks from 170mm to 165mm and that helped, but not entirely. We talked of the possibilities of a 650B conversion or a fork re-rake, but upon more careful examination that won't work. To eradicate the toe overlap entirely, I would need a new fork - which would then need to be painted to match the frame and the whole thing would be a hassle. Not sure what to do yet; maybe a winter project.

There are other things that at some point I questioned, but have since decided are good. For example, while my initial impression was that the chainstays were too short (to carry standard sized panniers without heel strike), I have since found a number of panniers that work (see: Philosophy, Po Campo, Cristobal), so this no longer bothers me. The short chainstays contribute to the bike's compactness and spirited handling, so as long as they allow me to carry stuff I am happy.

Another thing - and this has nothing to do with the frame - is that I am rethinking the handlebar setup, just because I feel like a change. Not sure what I'll do yet, but in Spring 2012 you might see something different in place of the Porteur bars and inverse levers.

If I were doing this all over...
If I were ordering this mixte now instead of two years ago (wow has it really been two years?..), I would want to design it from scratch: specify the geometry, pick out the tubing, choose the lugset - basically what I did for the Randonneuring bike, only for myself. I would go one of two routes: Either keep the geometry exactly as it is on my current mixte, except ask for a longer virtual top tube, or I would make it a 650B low-trail bike, based on a pre-1950s porteur mixte design (I have a specific bicycle in mind whose measurements I want to replicate). Of course ideally, I would ask Bryan to make one of each and then test and compare them here - but for that I would need a lavish "Lovely Bicycle scientific studies" budget!

My motivation behind ordering a custom frame was atypical, in that it wasn't just for the sake of having a bicycle. From the very beginning I looked upon it as a learning experience in bicycle design. I wanted to understand how these things were done. Talking to Bryan about his process and being allowed to watch him work gave me my first inside look into the world of framebuilding. Two years later, my interest in it is only growing stronger. I am excited about bicycle design and looking forward to trying out more ideas. Thank you for following along!

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Notes from the Trails

I have been trying to cycle on dirt trails a couple of times a week in preparation for D2R2, and I wanted to jot down some notes while it is all still new and wonderous to me. While this is by no means meant as advice, perhaps my impressions will be useful to those who are similar in skill and level of fitness, and are considering giving this a try.

It is effortful!
Naively, I thought that my biggest hardship with cycling on dirt and gravel would be the technical aspect - dealing with roots, rocks, loose surfaces and the like. Well, ha-ha. While it's not exactly a surprise that cycling on rough terrain takes more effort than on a smooth road (think walking on sand vs on a paved sidewalk), I did not expect it to be quite this draining. Replacing only 5 miles of a 40 mile ride with off-road trails made a big difference in how tired I felt afterwards. And here I thought that I was getting fit with all that roadcycling; turns out I am a weakling.

Molehills become mountains
Directly related to the previous point, is the need to use lower gearing for everything. Benign-looking upward inclines on gravel or packed sand feel like proper hills do on pavement. Huge difference!

Just keep pedaling
This simple concept has been tremendously helpful. If a stretch of the trail seems difficult, or slippery, or overly bumpy, continuing to pedal (instead of coasting or trying to stop) is the best way to get through it. It was counter-intuitive in the beginning, but quickly became intuitive. The best way not to fall or get stuck is to quickly switch to a low enough gear and pedal through it.

Foot retention is helpful

Having my feet snugly inside Power Grips helps when I get nervous, discouraging me from attempting to stop the bike (which is a good way to fall) and teaching me how to keep my balance.

Scenery is everything
Beautiful surroundings are a huge motivator for me. The first couple of trails I tried were sort of monotonously woodsy and led nowhere. I did not find cycling on them particularly enjoyable, because all the focus was on the terrain and there wasn't anything exciting to look at. Then we went through a different set of trails - with farms, meadows, varied stretches of woods, historical structures, fields of sunflowers, and a network of narrower paths going off in all directions - and it became an entirely different story. Suddenly I was interested and wanted to keep going despite being tired, and suddenly that narrow muddy offshoot of the path began to seem worth following just to see where it would lead. After a couple of these experiences, I will amend my earlier ambivalent comments about cycling off road with "I like it, if the scenery is worth it."

It surprised me to learn how many options there are for cycling off road close to Boston. The trails are all fairly short, but there is a great deal of variety. Though I am starting to doubt whether I am fit enough for even the easy 40 mile D2R2 route, I am enjoying this cautious exploration of a new type of cycling. It was not love at first site, but it is growing on me - particularly if meadows and old farms are involved.

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A Look at Berthoud Handlebar Bags and Thoughts on Attachment Options

I finally received a Giles Berthoud handlebar bag for the Randonneur. It's the Model 25 in gray, which is their medium size and features elastic ties for the pockets instead of leather straps.

The visual presence of this bag is almost too much for me. There is something about its colour scheme and construction that says "I am French and I am exquisite," and I find this both interesting and intimidating.

But happily, the Berthoud does not overwhelm the aesthetics of the bicycle. The size is a perfect fit. And the darker fabric and lighter leather combination parallels the contrast between the frame and lugwork. In comparison, the Ostrich handlebar bag on my own bike is more drab and also more bulky.

The bag has a large front pocket,

two side pockets

and two rear pockets. The top flap closes toward, rather than away from the cyclist, which is the opposite of what I am used to with the Ostrich and makes it counterintuitive for me to use - but this is of course user-specific. You can see that leather straps are provided for wrapping around the back of the rack. However, there are no provisions for securing the bag to the rack's platform, which surprised me (Ostrich includes straps for this). I know that some devise DIY systems, and if you've done so I'd love to hear about your process.

There are leather straps provided for attaching the bag to the handebars, though most opt for installing a decaleur. And here is where we are experiencing a little glitch. Ideally, the owner would prefer to forgo a decaleur: He plans to ride both with and without the bag, and a bagless decaleur sticking out of the bicycle doesn't look great (I agree). The handlebar straps hold the bag up fine, but without being secured on the bottom it bounces on the rack when filled with stuff and going over bumps.  I am also told that the bag can move from side to side without a decaleur, though I haven't experienced this yet during my one test ride so far (with 10lb of weight in the bag).

As far as decaleurs go, we had planned to use one of these if going without proved impossible, but I have since been warned that using it with the Nitto lugged stem (as opposed to the regular Technomic stem) is not a good idea, for complicated reasons related to clamp compatibility that I won't go into here.  An alternative would be Berthoud's own decaleur, but it too apparently presents issues with the lugged stem - plus it is fairly obtrusive without the bag on. A headset-mounted decaleur is not possible here, because it would sit too low. So I am seeking a solution, and  also wondering whether securing the bag at the bottom would in itself solve the problem. The bag is not nearly as large as my Ostrich, and I know that some do manage to use it without a decaleur. Sharing of experiences in this regard would be most appreciated.

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Gear Inches and Different Bikes?

Whenever there is mention of a bicycle's gearing, inevitably we bring up gear inches. And when there is a question of what gearing is best on a new bicycle, someone will suggest to calculate the gear inches on a bike the person is already comfortable with and use that as a template. But here is the thing: While I known how to calculate gear inches, I've been finding this mostly useless when setting up a new bike - because, in my understanding, gear inches are bike-specific. In other words, the same gear inches don't feel the same on different bikes. What am I missing or misunderstanding here? 

To quickly summarise for those new to the concept, gear inches are a convenient way to describe the gearing you are in when in different combinations of the front chainring and rear cog (taking into account wheel and tire size and crank length [edited to add: see discussion in comments regarding this; seems that I did misunderstand.]). The lower the number, the easier the gearing. For example: The lowest gearing possible on my Rivendell is 26 gear inches. The lowest gearing possible on the Royal H. Randonneur is 27.6 gear inches. The lowest gearing possible on the loaner Seven is 33 gear inches. 

So, on paper, it appears that the Rivendell is geared easier than the Randonneur, and much easier than the Seven. But in fact the bicycles feel similarly easy to ride in their lowest gearing. Cycling up the same hills, I've determined that 33 gear inches on the Seven feels about the same as 26 gear inches on the Rivendell and 31.6 gear inches on Randonneur. It seems that weight, geometry, positioning, tubing, and a number of other factors play into it and that gear inch calculations are bike-specific. It is not clear to me why some seem to suggest that gear inches are independent figures that one can use to determine the appropriate gearing on any bike. 

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Edited to add: My "what am I missing or misunderstanding here?" question has been answered in the comments; please read through them for an interesting discussion. I was mistaken in believing that crank length is factored into gear inch calculations; it is only factored into gain ratio calculations (an alternative way to measure gearing). When comparing gain ratios between the three bikes, the equivalently-experienced gearing on the Seven and on the Randonneur are in fact the same, whereas the equivalently-experienced gearing on the Rivendell is a bit lower. So... while other elusive factors remain, it appears that crank length is a huge one and that calculating gain ratios instead of gear inches allows you to factor it into the equation. Please continue to contribute to the discussion if you feel there is more to it, or that I phrased something incorrectly. I would like all of this to remain here for others' benefit.

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