A bicycle mechanic slides the hex wrench back into her jeans pocket and pushes the kickstand on her bike. Susan Lindell smiles widely at the females in the tiny, cold basement of ABC No Rio, an art and activism center in the Lower East Side. Her curly brown hair is pulled back into a bun and topped with a blue cap. Her hands are covered in grease from demonstrating how to oil a bike chain just moments before. She wipes the grease on her gray Adidas sweatshirt.
Then she starts pointing out every part of the bicycle, so even a novice can learn the terms. Everyone knows the handlebars, but not everyone may know where to find the front derailleur. She points to one last piece. “This is the water bottle cage, but I heard someone call it a drink holder once,” she says smiling. “I told them they spend too much time in a car.”
No one in the room arrived that chilly, autumn evening by car. A true bicyclist rides in any weather and at any time. Just moments before, I rolled my bike down Rivington Street, bundled up from head to toe. Wh
ile the basement was cold and dark, it was filled with life. Bikes and spare tools are spread all around. The other thing that caught my eye was the six women huddled together. On Monday nights, the bike co-op Time’s Up has a class strictly for females, taught by bike mechanic Lindell.
Three years ago, she started the class as a place for females to learn in an environment without men, which often makes them feel more relaxed. “There are a lot of women who feel intimidated with men there, like they’re treated differently,” she says. “This is the place they feel comfortable to ask what they want.”
Aspiring bike mechanics, workers, and riders come together every Monday evening to watch Lindell work on her own bike. These women take these lessons back to their own bikes or better yet- their own bike shops, organizations, and co-ops. It’s what women like Lindell herself did before she became an instructor. While some students attend the class to help others, I was there for my own benefit.
As a female cyclist, you see more men are riding through the streets of New York. Physical activities are male dominated or presumed to be. That’s why I was sitting there listening to Lindell tell me how to grease a bike chain and how often you should. After biking three years in the city, I never even aired up a tire on my own. Instead I would take my bike to Manhattan Velo on 17th Street, where the male mechanics would hover around me to be sure I was properly taken care of. It wasn’t until recently I thought to learn the basics of bicycle repair. This way I would not have to rely on my father when I was home, my boyfriend here at school, or the helpful mechanics at Manhattan Velo. It would also save anywhere from ten to twenty dollars for simple repairs.
Greasing the Chain
Lindell starts her first class with what she refers to as one of the easiest bike repairs, greasing the chain. All you need is bike oil and two old rags— make sure the oil you use isn’t something like WD-40 because it is a water displacer and used to remove oil and grease. If you ride daily, you should repeat this procedure once a month because a chain can rust easily. For myself, I never greased a bike chain, and it shows on my four-year-old bicycle.
Lindell placed the bike on a bike stand, which are generally only found in bike shops, but are useful for repairs. On the stand, the bike is upside down, which makes it easier to move the chain. With the first rag, she moved the pedals forward to clean off any excess dirt on the chain. Then she cycled the pedals again slowly backwards this time, dripping a small drop of oil on each roller of the chain (each little gap). Do this one time around and make sure too much oil isn’t in the chain. Once this is finished, she used the clean rag to pedal forward wiping the chain, to remove the extra oil. This completes the process and takes only ten to fifteen minutes.
For a beginner like myself, trying this on my own bicycle left more of a mess on the floor than on the chain. Grease covered the newspaper I laid out, which was not the toughest clean up since it was disposable. It was a simple procedure though, with great results. The bike operates more smoothly now and is also less noisy than before.
Patching a Tire
When I was a child, a hole in my red bicycle’s tire was the biggest obstacle I had to face. Riding down bumpy hills and roads with potholes, there was always something that damaged the inner tube. One thing I learned was never start with replacing the entire thing because a simple patch can fix everything. For this task, you need a tire lever, a bike pump, and a patch kit.
First Lindell takes off the tire by releasing the brakes, then using an adjustable wrench to loosen the nuts, then pull the wheel from the bike. Using tire irons, you insert the scooped end under the tire to pry it over the rim. Once it loosens up, you can loosen the rest from your hand. Pull the inner tube out and check around the rim for any glass or particles that make have caused the hole.
Lindell pulls the inner-tube out of her black Surly bicycle and deliberately pokes a hole in the rubber with an earring to use as an example. She lifts the tire to her ear to feel the air released from the wound. Listening is an important part of the process. Once you find the spot, mark it with the adhesive in the kit. This creates a vulcanizing solution around the patch, which is what makes the patch stick. Deflate your tire, then once the solution dries, place the patch on. Using tire levels, you need to put the inner tube back into the rim.
It takes a few minutes, then you are faced with the tough part. Lindell advises everyone putting most tires back on will not be easy. “Prepare yourself mentally,” she says with a laugh.
On my own, it was frustrating trying to reattach the tire with the wrench. Yet when a bicycle has a flat tire, it must be repaired or it will cause permanent damage. You may need a whole new tire. Between the cobble stones and glass in the streets, flat tires may be an issue for cyclists. With that in mind, this is an important repair lesson.
Lindell’s Monday class prepared me for my own bicycle troubles, which I never thought could be solved on my own. There will be fewer visits to Manhattan Velo, until I decide to make a purchase for a basket or another light. Even then, I may refuse help from the staff and attach them myself.
Learning from the Lessons
After the two-hour class ended, the women applauded Lindell’s lesson and raised their hands to ask questions. Smiles spread across their faces as they discussed the mechanics with on
e another. One student, Emily Sullivan, volunteers at a bicycle co-op at her college, Princeton University and this is her first class at Time’s Up. “I definitely feel stereotyped as a woman, where people will come in and ask for [a man],” she says as she puts her helmet on her head. “It’s nice to be able to learn in an environment like this.”
She tells me she learned to fix bikes to ride long distances. She trekked 1500 miles from Seattle to Los Angeles on her bicycle. Women in this class surprised me with their ambitious attitudes. Learning to make repairs myself was my first hurdle. With a little more education, I may be able to take my own journey.
The women slowly leave the class, and most will return for the next lesson. Every Monday in the month is something different. Break, cable, gear, and spoke repairs are taught by Lindell in the other weeks. I grew comfortable in this environment, just as she promised.
I grab my purple mountain bike and head back uptown, with a feeling of accomplishment. Even though men always offer to help me fix or lift my bike, I no longer need the assistance. All I need now is my own hex wrench and tire iron.
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