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EESTI ELU neljapäeval, 1. aprillil 2021 — Thursday, April 1, 2021
Nr. 13
Eesti go bragh
A Viks bike in action in Copenhagen.
Photo: viks.cc
On the Market: Zippy fixed gear bikes made by Velonia Bicycles Vincent Teetsov Every year, when the season of cycling returns, it’s an exhilarating time. It’s liberating to shed off layers of jackets and hit the road or trail on a bike. Your explorations pick up in their pace from being on foot, but you’re still nimble. The ride of choice would either be a single speed or fixed gear bike. No fuss, just focused engineering. Visually arresting, too. The first time I locked eyes on a Viks bike, made by Velonia Bicycles, it was in a picture shared by Tommy Cash, known for his sometimes scan dalous imagery. But the only thing you might have con sidered scandalous here was how few parts the bike had. Though minimalism isn’t always called for, being sparse and light are appealing qualities that make a Viks bike what it is. At first glance, the neon colours of the simple stainless steel frames remind me of a kid’s playground, as if it were made by a rocket engineer. To be honest, the prospect of riding a Viks bike makes me a bit nervous, because of how sparse it is. However, there is re assurance in knowing how the design came to be. Velonia Bicycles make bikes that are inspired by the linear forms and low handlebars of lightweight café racer motorcycles. Then there’s the Viks GT, which mimics the forward lunge of an Italian sports car. Co-owner of Velonia Bicycles, Indrek Narusk has said that he “wanted to create something entirely new for the daily commute.” Indrek studied mechanical engineering and
a pplied his knowledge of work ing with metal into bikes, a pas sion that had been apparent to him from the age of 13. A Postimees interview from 2017 reveals how, back in 2012, he started sketching a city bike that was “reminiscent of a motorcycle.” Explaining the structure, Narusk said “I thought that maybe I wouldn’t put a saddle tube in the middle of the frame...” He wanted to make sure that the bike was strong, though. Sharing his idea didn’t make the decision easier. The plan drew skepticism, with friends suggesting that it wouldn’t be possible to ride the bike. Maybe it would bend under pressure. He decided to try it anyway, relying on the strength of two side-by-side metal tube frames that are welded together at the front of the bike, “at the head tube, seat tube and bottom bracket.” Velonia Bicycles ex plain in their information about the bikes that “Thick tubes and strong welds keep Viks feeling stiff in all circumstances.” The experimental design caught on as soon as Narusk shared photos of the first Viks bike he made for himself. Orders came in. And now, Viks is the crown ing achievement of Velonia Bicycles. Narusk builds the bikes by hand in Tallinn with Tarmo Maibak and Kristo Riimaa. In the words of co-founder, Kristo Riimaa, “Viks wasn’t created to be an attention seeker, but it still turns heads every where you go... In Estonian ‘viks’ means classy, gentleman like, polite. At the same time it sounds ‘fixed’ like fixed gear… this was the initial idea at first – a fixed gear commuter.”
The bikes are made of a pproximately 60 laser cut pieces of steel, which are shaped and welded into place by the three men according to the specifica tions of the purchaser. The bikes can be made to one’s specific size, and they welcome inquiries about custom orders. Colour choices are abundant, which can be selected from the RAL colour matching system. And despite its unorthodox design, each of these bikes is compatible with parts that you would find on sale in bike shops. The frame alone for a size small Viks bike weighs 6.5 kilo grams with a fork and headset. At its largest, the standard model of Viks bikes, complete with a coaster brake, weighs 14 kilograms. Front rim brakes or disc brakes (Shimano Deore M615) are also available options, to make it easier when you need to stop. Although the timing of a build depends on the demand, it can take between two and four weeks to complete a Viks bike and ship it out from Estonia to wherever a customer lives. Seeing the “diaries” Velonia Bicycles put together about their bikes, like one where they zip around Copenhagen’s streets and bridges with ease, you can see why some cyclists choose to ride a simpler bike. Uphill cycling may be harder, but if there isn’t too much climbing to do, you are less encumbered by moving parts that add weight and require maintenance. One less thing between a rider en joying stunning views, peaceful gardens, and the cozy cafe at the end of a ride. This is all part of the romance of cycling.
Shameless, the slender one knows, to steal from the Irish. But what a wonderful people, patriotic, and musically – well, how can one not be uplifted by their folk music? The world knows Erin go bragh, an anglicization of Éirinn go Brách. A patriotic expression, translated as “Ireland Forever.” Estonians do not quite have the same expression, or at least one that can be put into three words. Five perhaps: “Mu Isamaa on minu arm” (My Fatherland is my love). Penned by the immortal Emajõe Nightingale, poetess Lydia Koidula. Curiously, at least musically Estonians and the denizens of the Emerald Isle have much in common. While the national character is different – the Irish are much more outgoing, sociable, ready to crack wise, Estonians are more phlegmatic, serious – there are similarities, cultural and historical bonds. Both people love singing. And some love tippling. Is it any wonder that Irish pubs cropped up in Estonia as soon as it was possible to establish such? And that the world over St. Paddy’s Day is welcomed as a chance to be cheerful in vast numbers? The Estonians could use such a day. Rather than waiting years for the next song festival, to be shoulder by shoulder, united by patriotic songs. Other similarities. Both were oppressed people. What the English did in Ireland over the centuries boggles the mind. Much like what the various occupiers of Estonia did to keep the people down. Is it any won der that emotional expression was and is chosen to be brought to the fore through song? There is a connection that is hard to put into simple words. It was with sorrow that the slimster read about the passing of Jaak Johanson in February. Cut down by leukemia, far too young, barely having entered that wonderful decade of life, one’s sixties. Johanson was a wonderful actor, but perhaps more import ant for this scribe known for his achievements as a folk and traditional musician. The slen der one had the privilege of seeing Johanson in both roles – on stage as an actor at the Pirgu Manor, as part of that Theatre Company as well as singing with his brother Mart. Siblings Ants and sister Kärt performed as well with them as Johan sonid, sometimes as Johansonid ja vennad. Jaak Johanson’s departure from our cultural scene is to be greatly lamented. Fortunately, the slimster has 3 CDs to listen to, reminding the ears of the talent of him and his siblings. Põhja vahemäng (Northern interlude) from 1993 is a gem. 2000 saw two releases of calm ing traditional folk-tinged songs. Päevakera (literally the
day’s orb, poetically the Sun) and the exquisite Mulgi jutt the songs of the family’s Tarvastu grandfather. Since mid-February they have been listened to more than once, with thanks for the musical depth and sincerity. Indeed, one can call them mood-improving songs – much needed in our present time. Just as with the Irish. Their jigs and reels, imported to Newfound land as well, keep toes tapping and a smile on your face. Yes, they also produced the melan choly, saccharine and extremely popular Danny Boy, an air about death and dying. But of course, that is part of the hu man condition. We have to ac cept that flowers wither and so do individual people. But not our nations. It is hardly surprising to note that Jaak Johanson was greatly drawn to the Irish, not only for their music but also for their joie de vivre. For both as an actor and musician Johanson expressed the joys of life incredibly well. The fact that he was one of the founders of the Estonian-Irish Friendship Days (sõpruspäevad) already in 1987, while Estonia was still occupied by the Soviets speaks volumes. Neither the Irish nor the Estonians allowed their unique yet similar cultures to be trampled into the mud, sub sumed by empires. The work of Jaak Johanson is confirmation. He is missed but certainly not forgotten. One is sure that he was familiar with the Gaeilge (never Gaelic! That is an English perversion of the Irish language) expression in the first paragraph here. From far away many of us are thankful, that Jaak Johanson made such an effort through his music and singing to make sure that Estonia also remains forever Eesti. OTEPÄÄ SLIM
Jaak Johanson. Photo: Jaan Tootsen
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