Wanderer Telex

Because of an acute shortage of time, here are just a few snaps of a very interesting moped. It´s the last product of the famous Wanderer brand, already built in München, not in Chemnitz, and if the Wanderer people of yore had seen that a twowheeler of theirs would use a proprietary engine instead of an in-house development, they would have cried bitter tears. Anyway, still a number of interesting features on this weird little thing, especially in the suspension.

And yes, I think it qualifies for this blog – it has pedals.

Tubes and Coffee 2018

Sorry, somewhat late this time, but better late than never.

 

Last December Marten had his M-Gineeering Tube and Coffee open day again, very enjoyable as ever, friendly company,

nice tubes

and great coffee (and food) inside the warm workshop

on a very grey, cold and snowy day.

The highlights of the day as far as I was concerned were two Alex Singer bikes, a modern solo and an older tandem, of which here are a few details. Starting will the fully plated solo, which is only a few years old.

and then moving over to the tandem.

The attention to detail in those old Singers is quite high, but that goes without saying really.

 

As a great surprise Marten presented his first frame, a streamlined one in fashion of the day, but very nicely made.

The time passed much too quickly again, and soon we were heading home, but we hope there will be another Tubes and Coffee this year.

 

Two Thirds, Two Years, Part Three…

… already.

So this month it´s all about how I got by my bike. Starting at when I first tentatively looked at ads on the net, and being shocked by prices just in the five figures for a simple 350 Konsul I even sometimes. Ugh. So my visits to mobile dot de became less frequent, until one evening in June I spied an unrestored specimen, despite the fact that I had been told that they didn´t probably exist anymore, all Konsuls having been pimped up beyond recognition apparently. I don´t want a museum piece, garage queen or whatever you want to call those poor animals, I want to enjoy a machine on the road which will not lose thousands in value with every scratch it receives. I want that Konsul that looks worked, but with sound mechanicals, which could only be achieved by me myself or people I trust looking at all the important bits. So an unrestored one it had to be. And there it was.

I had had the idea to go and visit some sellers to see what could be done price wise, but no such luck. One seller refused to budge an inch even though he did not allow me to start the engine. Not allow me, you are reading it correctly. So what with bikes costing 8 or 10 grand that had been lavished chrome on, yet the engine probably still sounded like the caretaker was moving coal into the basement, and unrestored specimens unavailable, I basically gave the idea up.

Until that fateful evening in June, as I just said. There it was, a Swedish assembled 500cc Konsul, called  Svalan in those northerly realms, and even judging from the pics on the net in dire need of TLC. But the price, nope, sorry, no way.

Holidays in France, watching bikers on all sorts of machines zooming past. So after the hols another look at the net, and lo and behold the unrestored Svalan was still there. Price dropped even, so my hunter´s instinct was awakened, and a phone call was made. On the following Friday a visit was also made to the seller who liberally applied ether from a spraycan to get the engine running, offering me a test ride.

I get on the bike, engine throbbing, strange noises everywhere, I pull the clutch and lift the gear lever. (Konsuls have British ways, with the gears shifted like British bikes and the kickstarter on the right side of the bike.) There is a clunking noise, the bike lurches forward, the clutch apparently has no function, but the tractor the 500cc engine is, it doesn´t stall but plods on in tickover along the grassy way I have been pointed out to use. More hectic clutch pulling is followed by the idea to brake the bike to a standstill, thereby stalling the engine, but you will have guessed it, the brakes don´t work either. The ignition key does. The seller has of course never heard of the clutch not working, and serious bartering begins because I have fallen in love with that wreck.

In the seller´s garage another close look at the bike, and another trial run of the engine. My son who is standing on the other side of the bike from me suddenly looks a bit amazed and points to the cylinder. There are exhaust gases emanating from between the cylinder head and the cylinder in visible quantities.

Plus the exhaust is completely gone, it is a homemade one complete with pop rivets to hold bits together.

Empty, rusted out silencers, no way this is ever going on the road. Then the clutch, the brakes, a homemade unoriginal seat, only looking like the English seat Svalans would have had, and with the ignition coil in a completely wrong place,

a shot rear mudguard, and other bits and pieces too numerous to mention. Oh the electrics are horrid too. Good heavens.

So we take a break of a few minutes, have a drink in the seller´s living room, a chinwag with him and his wife, and then sense wins over love: This project is several sizes too large for me. I decline, despite what is the lowest price I have yet seen for a recognizable Konsul, and we drive home. End of story.

One might think. Next weekend, brilliant weather, on a cycleride I pass by a friend´s house, and tell him in passing of the declined NSU. He nearly flips, how can I decline a project like that, hen´s teeth they are, and the long standing and experienced bike mechanic he is, he offers me help, saying he enjoys the idea of getting a 500cc NSU under his paws, not restoring it to museum standard or whatever people think that means, but making a good reliable used bike of one, which is perfectly my idea too. Wow. This is just what I need, suddenly the project is within my reach.

Too late? Phone call to the seller, no, it´s not, bike still unsold, so an appointment is made, a van is hired with some motorbike transporting gear in it, and a week after our first visit we are back, this time with an envelope full of Euro bills, and after the envelope has been handed over and a decent contract has been filled in and signed for, we are off. Hey! It feels so good having that big old NSU behind us in the van.

Taking a break at a motorway service area, we shoot a photo, and then suddenly we see a problem: Getting the bike into the van was easy with three people, but how to get it out at home? Once arrived, we roll it on the ramp, that came with the van, with trepidation, but then we realize that the brakes do work when you apply them with the bike rolling backwards, only the forward direction is not functional. Yey.

Then we park he bike in the garage, and I´m thinking that this is it, an adventure in more than one dimension has started, and I´m feeling great.

 

 

 

 

Car Eat Countryside

Today nice weather coincided with a couple of hours of free time, so I decided to hop on the bike, and for want of a better idea where to go, I decided to repeat a short trip I had taken quite exactly four years ago to snap the changes that major roadworks have wrought upon the landscape near our small town.

About 40 years ago planning started for an intergalactic bypass. It seems that nothing was good or expensive enough, so plans were made for a road which legally is not a federal highway (Bundesautobahn) but a notch below that, a Bundesstraße. However in reality it will completely look like an Autobahn, save the yellow roadsigns in place of blue highway ones. This of course means a huge loss of contryside, a huge expenditure of money, and I as a cyclist can´t help feeling cheated.

The Osnabrück area isn´t exactly known for its cycle friendliness, only a few months ago I had a potentially dangerous accident damaging my cycle (see red replacement front fork) because of what I see as unbelievably bad planning of cyclepaths in the city, and the new bypass will be forbidden for cyclists – matter of fact, the cycle route to Osnabrück will be less easy to use after the roadworks will have been finished. No way anything really helpful is planned as far as cyclists are concerned – there is talk of a “Fahrradautobahn”, a cycle highway, more or less alongside the new bypass, but to my mind that´s just an alibi. Drastic measures that would be so necessary are not tackled at all. That´s why I´m feeling cheated when looking at the construction site.

Now for my short cyclerides, today and four years ago.

I approached the site from its Eastern end, and even from several hundred meters away the yellow sand on it was clearly visible in the sun, behind the trees.

 

The next two views are taken from the hill in the background of this pic, looking left, basically.

The new road really eats ito the conuntryside.

Thses are two of the bridges visible in the pics above.

Carrying on further, the site today looks like this:

Four years ago this was the view one had:

 

Even worse, this little copse

and this slope

were completely taken away, the level of the ground being lowered to this

and this.

Turning round 180 degrees, four years ago this was what one beheld:

And now it´s like this, at a slightly different angle:

The little copse of five pictures above was roughly alongside the bridge on the excavator side of it, only nearly ten meters above 2018 road level. That much hill has been taken away. The number of trees having been felled is amazing too.

All in all, I´m not impressed. Traffic planning is, to my mind, still riding on mid-20th century tracks, and in the wrong direction.

 

A Bike with a USB Plug, a Car with a Bicycle Bell, and a Smoking Gun

All of that was to be found on or near Marten´s latest edition of Tubes and Coffee, which was really nice again despite taking place on a day on which there was a lot of black ice on the roads, and so sadly not too many people attended. We had our usual three people in the car

and it took us more than two hours to cover the 180 kms to Marten´s place. Suffice to say that the turbo engine wasn´t asked too much on the German Autobahn that morning.

However, once there, we were very well rewarded by Marten´s hospitality. His traditional apple crumble

looked like this minutes after our arrival:

And what was that simmering on the wood stove?

Indeed, the rightfully famous vegetarian groentesoep, vegetable soup.

But really we hadn´t come for neither cars not soup, but to marvel at more machines, in and outside the workshop. One is the Phil spoke machine, which cuts too long spokes and rolls new threads in them in one go. Marten says that its the single most expensive piece of machinery in his workshop, but well worth it. Here it is:

You insert the spoke into a little hole

crank the lever

and the machine cuts the spoke to the pre-set length and rolls a new thread in seconds.

But this marvel also contains the smoking gun: Who believes that Phil is US made?

Me no longer 🙂

And some more bits and pieces:

Like this candlestick cleverly made from wrecked SON parts:

Or other SON items like this demonstrator or special new equipment:

It´s all quite fascinating, but with Marten being the SON importer for the Netherlands, he´s just the chap to ask for viewing things like that.

More nice items, like this derailleur demonstrator use in sleutelcursussen, repair classes for members of a long distance cycling club. Marten made the demonstrator himself, and I just love it.

You can take the lever and the cable off in seconds, and everything is super well made and clear for beginners.

However, Marten is also involved in the history of great bicycles, and here we had the opportunity to scrutinize an early and famous titanium frameset:

Books – there were some quite exciting ones to be leafed through.

And of course visitors brought some rather nice bikes. The Copenhagen Pedersen is Marten´s, but the Koga was ridden from Groningen:

As M-Gineering also sell Airnimals, there was a very nice specimen on display too.

More examples of Marten´s raw materials and what he makes of them:

One last look at a really, really nice bike a customer brought, the one with the USB plug, actually,

and then we had to take our leave for another year, driving along the straight canal, drawn with a ruler into the flat landscape.

 On the way back we chanced upon this apparatus:

Here´s the car with the cycle bell. And: Does anyone have any idea what the flap in the bonnet is for?

So here we are, stuck with another year´s worth of waiting for the 2018 edition of Tubes and Coffee.

Neerkant Revisited – Randonneurs

It might not have escaped your attention that I have a predilection for randonneurs. To me they seem to be the pinnacle of cycle construction, uniting light weight, practicability, comfort and a high degree of individuality. Also you need a very good Constructeur to build you that lightweight bike which incorporates a great number of custom made peripheral structures such as décaleurs, racks, lighting installation, brake cable stops, mudguard eyes and clearance, and what not. After all, even if you don´t go for PBP, the average (or below average, like me) rider wants a bike which will help him or her to attain the longest possible ride distance with the least discomfort. Add to that personal touches like special lugs, and there you are: Not to be surpassed.

Rivendell

So, about eight years ago (yes, it´s that long ago), I was lucky enough to have a custom made randonneur made for me by Ellis Briggs in Shipley (see Work in Progress post). At the time I thought one would see a big renaissance of steel framed, constructeur made randonneurs, but it seems I was mistaken, so whenever I see one, I have a good look, as in this year´s spring Stalen Ros meet. The first bike I found to be quite nice was a US made bike, a Rivendell A. Homer Hilsen – strange name, great bike. In theory I was familiar with the brand, I had read a number of Rivendell Readers, even before Grant Petersen and Jan Heine fell out over rolling resistance of tires,

so I knew that they made nice lugs

and artsy headbadges, too. I used to say that I only wanted to ride bikes with metal headbadges, but I wonder if that can be continued nowadays. Anyway, Rivendell Bike Works still have them:

And here´s the bike in full:

Some nice details:

Personally, I´m not so sure about asymmetrical lugs, but that´s a matter of taste, I assume, as long as certain limits are not exceeded. I just love the lugged extension, that´s true, although my taste for fantasy literature is underdeveloped.

Batavus

There was another really wonderful bike, hard to be photographed, sorry to say, so there´s just a few snaps. Based on an elderly Batavus frame, the rider had made a great long distance bike, changing tire size to 650B on the way, and incorporating such features as remotely controlled directional lighting, reminding me of the 2nd series Citroen D-models.

 

So the former down tube gear lever is now attached to the brake lever body and actuates the Edelux swivel mech. Great stuff.

Lastly for today, these two nice touches:

Open Monument Day 2017 – Bielefeld Racetrack

Unexpected experiences often are the most interesting ones.

I had planned to visit the 2017 edition of the open day at the Bielefeld/Germany cycle track on Sunday, Sept. 10, expecting to witness some exhibition racing by stayers, but when I arrived at the scene, I already could hear that something unusual was going on. So through the tunnel, and into the track oval inner field.

Parallel to the cycling part of the open day there was a meeting of people foolish enough to risk not only their lives, but also their wonderful motorbikes on the track. This is possible because Bielefeld was built for stayer racing in the 50s, and so can stand the stress exerted on the track by heavy and speeding motorbikes. On the Saturday there had been heavy rainfall, so that no fun could be had by the motorbike people, who had been allowed to take the exhibition racing over on the Sunday – some of them had travelled for 1.000 kms to ride their bikes on a track, so who could have refused them?

There were some weird and wonderful bikes assembled inside the track oval, a 1929 NSU racer for example,

or a recently finished re-creation of a JAP engined track racer,

but the stars of the show on the track were the fast and hard ridden Harley Flathead WL model conversions. Strictly speaking hardly any of the motorbikes present were actual track racers, but boy did they let fly, never mind knobbly tires or other un-track-like additions.

Riders actually developed some racing ambitions and up to four serious contenders were on the track at a time. One thing bikes did not have were exhausts worth mentioning, so the warm, low key noise of the Harleys, the NSU or the JAP was contrasted by the sharp sound of a sixties Honda.

In the bends, the low pressure, large diameter tires of some bikes were visibly compressed by the G forces exerted on them at speeds of up to 100 kph.

Of course, there also were cycle related activities. Old films about the track were shown, and Christian Dippel, one of the last great pacemakers, explained some tricks of his trade at the small exhibition of cycles and motorbikes.

Outside the track proper, there was tent in which visitors could partake of cake and other delicacies, and the tent also harboured a small collection of very nice, but hard to photograph racing bicycles.

A short ride for people on old racing bicycles had also been scheduled, and one bike in it, a fully original Bianchi Specialissima, was ridden by it first owner who´d had it for quite exactly 50 years.

Soon it was time to return home, but first the beautiful weather had to be used for some photographs.

Gazelle – Retrofestival and New Frame Presentation

Are you into Gazelle? If so, you should have been in Dieren/Netherlands last Saturday because there was a big meet of people who are interested in old (and new) Gazelle bikes. I´ve been a great fan of theirs all my cycling life, starting in the early eighties when I repaired bikes in a bike shop frequented by college students to earn a penny or two finding that Gazelle were of superb quality, until today when I´m privileged enough to own about ten classic Gazelles, from daily riders dating to the 1990s to real collectors´ items. You can find most of them portrayed on this blog. Just key “Gazelle” into the search field top left on the screen.

The reason for organizing the festival was that Koninklijke Gazelle N.V. presented a new racing bike called Champion Mondial, just like the classic frames used to be from the sixties up until the eighties. Also this year it´s their 125th birthday.

The new frame is a curious mix of classic and modern components and techniques and as such carries its name with justice.

It was unveiled by two Dutch cycleracers of yore, Harm Ottenbros and Hennie Kuiper. Both spoke a few words on the small stage erected in the parking lot of the big Gazelle works, and then set off on the new bikes for a ride. They were kind enough to sign the poster I had brought on the offchance:

Hennie Kuiper being one of the heroes of my youth, that was good. Here´s a few impressions of the festival terrain:

The whole Gazelle area was choc a bloc with old Gazelle bikes, heavy black Dutch Roadsters as well as sleek racers. I don´t think there were many models unrepresented in that gruppetto.

Weights ranged from super heavy 1930s Roadsters

to a super lightweight track bike and, unbelievably, an actual 753 frame:

Some of the oldest Gazelle lightweights, purported to be that early that they were built at Eroba and not at Gazelle, were also there, only space was cramped and photography next to impossible.

The blue “race” model is just a run of the mill 531/Nervex Professionnel frame of course, a bit old fashioned even in 1966 when it must have been made. Its being the oldest surviving Gazelle lightweight, however, is what it makes so special. The bike is kitted out well, French mostly, and is really great all in all. I spent nearly a quarter of an hour next to it.

There also was a ladies light tourer of the same age – another great bike.

More details of some bikes, from wonderful

… to rough and ready.

The cutest bike at the whole festival must have been this kid´s racer:

After some time the whole group of about 250 participants set off for a ride of either 25 or 50 kms through the beautiful landscape surrounding Dieren.

The crowd at registration

The climax of the ride must have been the crossing of the river Ijssel on ferryboats.

“Don´t pay the ferryman / until he gets you to the other side” – ha, funny, great joke. The lucky participants of the ride had received a red plastic chip at registration (or somewhere else) which was taken in payment by the ferry crew, but we unlucky ones who had not been told there were red plastic chips had to pay our own ways – before the boat set out. Oh well, it wasn´t that expensive, and on the way out we were even invited by some very friendly people we had met on the way.

Had I known that also other brands than Gazelle could take part,

I would have ridden my wonderful RIH and not the much too small AA Special Gazelle equipped with C Record. I didn´t feel comfy at all on my Gazelle – small wonder at 6-7 cms too low.

After a very enjoyable ride we arrived back at Dieren and cycled past the old Gazelle shop where the whole affair had started in 1892…

… contrasting starkly to the ultra modern new building…

… which actually incorporates an older one.There was the possibility of walking round parts of the factory, and I did take photos, but as I´m not really sure if I can publish them on the net, I´ll ask Gazelle first. So if you still see this sentence in a few weeks´ time…

Lastly there also was the possibilty of taking part in a Guiness world record attempt – the most bikes over 30 years old in one spot, or something, but we really didn´t get idea nor the purpose of that, so we didn´t take part. It was required to cycle 4.6 kms on a bike that was at least 30 years old, and as my son brought our Gazelle track bike for people to look at, and his riding bike was definitively less than 30 years old, there was no chance for us to take part anyway. Here´s the start of the record attempt:

Of course there were some old cars to be found in the parking lot. I didn´t get the chance to snap a beautiful PV 544, but these aren´t bad either:

All in all, the combination of old and new was very appealing, and I would say that the festival was a great success.

Not Neerkant Anymore – Stalen Ros 2017

To sum it up, a new location, but the same friendly faces.

Arriving, you find that the parking space situation has changed – from unregulated chaos as it was for the first nine years (or so?) to regulated chaos. Oh well, you aren´t coming for the cars – or are you?

 

As always, there were a few nice cars to be seen, but of course, hundreds of bikes.

You start off by seeing the insignia of the host,

the Natuurpoort de Peel, and of Stalen Ros:

Once you have made your way through the restaurant and waited in the line to pay the 2€ entrance fee, you arrive in a big shed.

You see at once that the stall have now near-completely taken over, there is only very little room now for the expo bikes,

as many people are trying to sell off their unwanted parts

and are actually expecting to be paid for this sort of scrap, or, if it´s nice items, prices are about where they have been for the last few years.

Not really a Peugeot, of course. Nice, but definitively not what the seller said it was. And possibly believed it himself?

Also I noted a great deal of wholly off-topic items for sale.

But OTOH, there was this really great asymmetrical Labor bike to see. Once properly restored, it has the potential to become a real sight. As it is now (see rims…) there´s still a lot of work to be done.

Not saying that I like the construction; the Labor people just flogged the dead horse of an unusual idea obviously long after it had started to putrify, refusing to admit that this is not a viable way to make a bike, but still, it´s 1920s, and as such an exception in the meet. Sad, really, that people seem to look nearly exclusively at 70s and 80s bikes nowadays.

What I noted this year was the sheer number of items for children, ranging from the superbe to the horrible. Anyway, we all like kids to cycle, and on steel too, so – carry on with it, everybody, please.

This handlebar/extension/bell set was the show stealer, if I may say so. Bearing the markings of Kessels´ Main d´Or, the combination of green anodizing and chrome was – well, resistible at the price, but very nice to look at anyway. The Belgians really knew how to make beautiful bikes.

What did I take away? A very positive impression of the new venue and the people working there, the many nice talks I led with interesting people, some even in-depth, and two saddles: A 1979 full chrome Champion Narrow in pretty good nick, and a 1974 B17 Standard which is barely broken in. Both have untouched tensioning bolts and had escaped being maltreated by people wielding oil cans or whatever unsuitable fatty matters there are, and both were bought (relatively) cheaply.

Dus, tot volgend jaar, definitively.

This Is Not About Bikes…

… but hopefully interesting for those into lightweight design. Yes, you guessed it, it´s about planes again.

On a business trip to the beautiful Polish city of Cracow I managed to take time off to visit the Muzeum Lotnictva Polskiego, the Polish Aviation Museum. First thing to be said: Don´t try, like I had to, to make do with an afternoon – there´s enough exhibits for a week, I´d say. The museum is situated 7 km to the East of the city centre and can be reached with trams No. 52 or 10 inside 20 minutes from Wawel for PZN 7.20 per return journey, which is fantastic. On the way you also see a different Cracow – modern buildings, some reaching back to Socialist times. You get off at the Muzeum Lotnictva stop, and from there it´s an easy 5 min walk until you see this:

The futuristic main building of the museum. From above it looks slightly like a propeller.

So you pay your PZN 15 entry fee (about 4 EUR/$/£), and right away you´re greeted by a hall full of exquisite exhibits like:

a 1947 Yak 23, one of the earliest jet planes, and the Soviet Gloster Gladiator if you wish, or

a Blériot 11 on the ceiling, a late model, but never mind, or

a 1917 Albatross that was used in the Polish airforce until WWII, or

a Me 109 people dragged from some lake a few years ago, or lastly

a late model Spitfire in the colours of a Polish RAF Squadron. In recent years Poles have remembered about their countrymen who fought so valiantly and successfully in the UK even after fascist Germany conquered their country. One of the main bridges crossing the Wisla is called Monte Cassino bridge – check out on the the net why.

So the hall´s been a good start.

But then you leave the main building and stumble upon some very sad sights. Sorry to be so straightforward, but to the visitors´ view the MiG Alley, as it´s called, is little more than a collection of rotted out planes that might have been a great attraction if housed somewhere out of the reach of the inclement Eastern Polish weather:

The 21 U is a rarity in itself, and the incomplete 29 is an open invitation to anyone to help themselves to some magnificent titanium parts. A near complete collection of MiGs – from the earliest to a 29, out in the open – sorry, can´t do anything with that. No more snaps of that tragedy.

But the outside drama goes on. The AN 2 stored in the open is replaceable, I guess,

but a Belphegor, the only jet propelled biplane, is just a sad sight with cracking perspex and UV damaged seat upholstery.

Worse still: An Amiot AAC.1 Toucan, a Ju52/3m knockoff, made ca. 1946 in France, where the Germans had hoped to use French aircraft production facilities to make their less modern aircraft in greater numbers, thereby delivering to the French f/o/c all the tools and know how necessary to produce one of the more rugged cargo planes of aviation history. The poor beast is also sitting out in the open. Its completely unoriginal paintwork, an embarassment to say the least, is best bleached by the sun, but its substance also is suffering.

At some point a Junkers pair of rudders must have found its way onto the Toucan, as betrayed by this plate:

But on the other side of the plane its counterpart has already supposedly been nicked:

Luckily this French 1952 revision plate is still there.

A 1943 Li 2 is suffering still more.

Strangely enough, I was touched most by one of my childhood favourites´ fate. I have no idea why and when, but I started being fascinated by planes at a very young age, and one of the planes I always found fascinating is a SAAB 37 Viggen. Lo and behold, there´s a 1977 AJSF one at the Muzeum Lotnictva. But in what sad state of neglect.

I took some time to check the thing out in detail, hence the number of snaps. There´s always the possibility to just scroll down 🙂

This one is a recce version. The wonderful Matra cameras are still in place.

The rest of the Viggen photos can speak for themselves.

It´s such a great plane, oozing build quality and original design ideas. I wished I could have taken it home to some sort of shelter.

OK, on to some more stuff.

The Museum prides itself in a unique collection of Pioneer Aircraft. Thing is, most are unrestored, unlike this admittedly beautiful Sopwith camel with its Humber built engine:

Many old planes are left in as found condition (no comment here why that´s the case, you can find out about it on the net), but I hope I won´t be eaten alive by readers if I say that I prefer it this way: It´s not every day that you can see underneath the surface of pre-WWI planes.

So this Etrich Taube may look like it came straight from the bin,

But it is fascinating to see how it was designed. Also some details of planes can be observed well as there is no limit to where visitors are allowed to to go, short of climbing onto the exhibits (it really says so on boards).

A bungee cord suspension. Foolproof, lightweight – great.

Same is true for one of the other planes which ranks high in my most fascinating list, the Levavasseur with its Antoinette engine. The competitor of Blériot when attempting the first crossing of the English Channel by plane was, to my mind, the FAR nicer machine. I mean, look at that 50hp, liquid cooled Vee-eight engine. This one is incomplete and damaged (accident?), also it´s not the one with the light alloy cylinder heads, but it´s there to be looked at. What wouldn´t I give to hear it running…

And this is where it went: The bow, literally, of a German license built Levavasseur plane. The engine goes onto the gunwale like rounded rests.

The fuselage was built like a boat, complete with name on the bow.  The rest of the woodwork also is really nice:

It´s so intricately designed, and the woodwork is fascinatingly well executed. Bad lighting conditions precluded me from taking more detailed pics.

This is the cockpit.

The handrails are wood, the spokes are cast light alloy.

There´s some fascinating original footage of Antoinettes being built on youtube.

What else? The main exposition hall contains rarities such as a Sea Vampire and some Soviet WWII planes, but also, if I got it right, Ernst Udet´s personal Curtiss Hawk II:

AFAIK, this is one of the first planes which used the Townend Ring. Again, cramped and badly lit conditions…

Then on to the engine collection. There´s one hangar literally choc a bloc with the choicest engines.

Starting with the earliest rotaries like this Clerget,

carrying on to radials,

from flimsy to brutal like the BMW 801 which could be changed as a complete unit,

not forgetting early in-lines like this airship Maybach,

passing onto early Vees (and even Ws), like a Liberty,

and of course a whole array of thirties engines, like a rare Kestrel,

some Jumos, and then the superbly looking 12 series Hispano Suiza:

I´m fully aware that all Jumo 2xx, Mercedes 60x, RR Merlins and later the Griffons, their Packard offsprings, the US Allisons, Soviet Vee 12s were engines for warplanes and that people being killed by planes equipped with them didn´t care at all what these engines looked like, but I can´t help thinking that of all the liquid cooled Vee 12s, the Hispano 12 series must be the best looking. Contrary to the block like Jumos especially I think there was someone at Hispano´s who cared about the looks of their products.

If you have ever been puzzled by a drawing of the internals of a Bristol Hercules and wondered how the hell it was working, who was crazy enough to be able to design it and if there can possibly be a more intricate engine, you´re in for a shock. This Jumo opposed piston Diesel engine is just the worst. I spent ten minutes of my precious time in front of this cutaway specimen and didn´t understand much of what it tried to tell me.

Why simple when it can be complicated.

Lastly, in a museum like the Cracow one, where visitors can come really close to exhibits, there´s always some surprise to be had, like this warranty certificate which expired nearly 100 years ago: