So you’re going out for a ride
Saturday morning with some friends. You reckon you’ll be out for around three
hours or so. When you start temperatures are going to be in the low fifties and
when you finish they’ll be in the mid seventies.
So where you gonna put your stuff? You know,
your arm warmers, your leg warmers, your knee warmers, your wrist warmers, your
neck gaiter, your thermal beanie, your long-fingered gloves, your energy bars,
your gels, your electrolyte capsules, your hydration tablets, your cell phone,
your keys, your lip balm – you know, your stuff.
Well, the roadies will of course
stuff it all into those
three pockets on the back of their Italian made jerseys and make like a domestique with a
shirt full of bottles for the team. Their stuff isn’t very voluminous anyway,
since they’re all on strict calory-free diets and all their clothing is purpose
built with only the latest fly weight hi-tech fabrics by Italian artisans in a
small factory just outside of Milan. Either that or they just stuff a newspaper
down the front of their jerseys and toss it when they get too hot. And of
course their team cars will be along any minute now to collect their surplus
stuff anyway.
The urban, fixie hipsters can keep their stuff in one of those huge, formless messenger bags with the seatbelt for a shoulder strap. The bong and stash shouldn't be taking up that much space in there, so there should be plenty of room.
The tourers will no doubt pack it all into one of the voluminous
panniers adorning their rig. Or on their bike trailer, somewhere between the
tent, the sleeping bags, cook stove and toilet paper.
The jaunty CycloChics have the delightful, flower festooned
baskets on their retro mixtes, brimming with bottles of wine, loaves of French
bread and hunks of cheese in which to store their goodies. Not to mention the
handbag strewn over their shoulder and the pockets of their trendy cycling
jackets.
The mountain bikers have all those pockets and bungee cords
on their gigantic hydration backpacks.
 |
| The Acorn Boxy Rando mounted on the '86 Fuji Allegro |
But I have recently gone in a
different direction. I have recently come under the spell of the old, the
vintage, le retro. I’ve started seeing the randonneurs out of the
corner of my eye, and have a strong attraction to their aesthetic. It’s got a
kind of Steam Punk / Victorian thing going on that speaks of whacky British
explorers and faraway lands. And there’s something these randonneurs all seem
to love – French Handlbar bags. After seeing a few of them around town, I
simply had to have one.
Now the classic French bags are
Gilles Berthoud bags, but I have a bit of a
buy American (if at all practicable) thing, so I searched around a bit to see
if I couldn’t find something made by folks a little closer to home. And sure
enough, there are several makers out there producing this style of bag. Most
seem closer to bespoke mom-n-pop shops, and that suits me just fine.
The one I ultimately chose is by
Acorn Bags, a small two-person, husband
and wife shop in Southern California. They make so few products, you have to
get on a waiting list to be notified when the small batches go on sale. So you
get an e-mail on Sunday night that says, “Tomorrow a batch of bags in [one of
three colors offered] will go on sale starting at 9:00 AM, Pacific Time.” Then, when you go to
the site, you have about 20 seconds from the time
it becomes available to put the item in your cart or they will be sold out. I got lucky on my first try and
scored a
Boxy Rando in Saddle Tan.
There is no denying the attraction.
These boxy bags, made from waxed cotton with leather and brass, nestle
neatly between the handlebar drops. Contrary to what the name might imply, they
don’t actually hang from the handlebars, but are propped on a small rack above the
front wheel right where you can reach it while you’re riding. And because it doesn’t
hang from the bars, the bag doesn’t impede the placement of your hands near the
stem. Brilliant, intuitive design, obviously honed over years of practical
experience, these bags have pockets on the rider’s side, and a top flap that opens
toward the rider with a map case built in. Good design is simply eternal.
I’m currently riding it without a
decaleur,
the metal stabilizer typically mounted to the stem or head set with these types
of bags. It seems pretty stable, but the bag only just fits between my extremely
narrow handlebars (the bike, an ’86 Fuji came with 40cm Nitto bars, typical of
the era) and stabilized only by the cords attached to the d-rings on the sides,
the bag kind of crowds my thumbs when I round corners.
I’m still fiddling with it and will write a follow-up
report as I either figure it out or get exasperated by it.
Related
reading:
