Two Speeds, Two Chains

 Most of you, I suspect, ride or have ridden a bike with two chainrings.  I would imagine, however, that none of you have ridden a bicycle with two chains that isn’t a tandem.

Some folks are about to have that experience. They’re not Grand Tour riders or triathletes; none (as far as I know, anyway) plan on embarking upon a cross-country or round-the-world tour.

Rather, they are folks who use their bicycles as taxis, pickup trucks and cargo vans. I encountered such riders in Cambodia and Laos and even rode bicycles like the ones they use.  Those bikes, however, didn’t have the unique feature I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

So why, you ask, are some people about to ride a bike with two chains? And, where are they?

I’ll answer the second question first:  Africa.  I’ve never been there, but I imagine that parts of it are like the Southeast Asian countryside I saw:  unpaved roads and paths with few, if any bike shops.  And the shops that exist can’t order a part you need for your SRAM Red 13 speed shifter and have it delivered by Fed Ex the next day.

In such an environment, a bike that would need such a part would be all but useless.  And it would be worse than impractical for hauling a 15 liter metal jug of milk from farm to village.

World Bicycle Relief has been working to address people’s needs in rural Africa and other parts of the world.  It developed the Buffalo bicycle: a “tank” with wide tires, steel rims and a coaster brake. This was believed to be the bike with lowest possible maintenance. Also, because the bike has a coaster brake, it can be ridden with wheels that are significantly out-of true.  Oh, and it has a rear rack that can support up to 200 pounds.

As you can imagine, the bike is heavy. But its users didn’t mind:  Reliability is more important to them. That weight, however, combined with its coaster brake hub—which has only one gear—meant that most people couldn’t ride it up a hill, especially if it was loaded.

A new version of the Buffalo bike is designed to deal with that problem.  So why two chains?, you might ask.

Well, each chain runs on one of the two chainwheels—and one of the two sprockets on the rear.  Those sprockets are part of a freewheel that looks like a wider version of the ones found on BMX bikes. One chain wraps around the smaller sprocket and chainwheel while the other winds around the larger sprocket and chainring.

This arrangement results in a two-speed bike without a derailleur, internally-geared hub or coaster brake. So how does the bike “shift?”

Well, the freewheel contains a mechanism that disengages one gear while the other is being used. So, if you are pedaling in one gear, the chain still spins on the other.  And the “shift” is made by pedaling backwards, just as you would on a coaster brake.

Achieving that, of course, meant giving up that coaster brake.  Instead, a pair of dual pivot brakes binds on robust alloy rims to stop or slow down. As the developers explain, some strength may be sacrificed but, apparently, there’s still enough to support a 200 pound load in addition to the rider. And it’s also easier to true an alloy rim.

Oh, and everything on the bike—including the freewheel mechanism—can be fixed with a tool that looks like an oversized version of the old Raleigh spanner—or an adjustable wrench.

I, for one, would be interested to try such a bike, if for no other reason than to experience the two-speed, two-chain system.  And I am always happy when a practical bike—whatever that means for a particular place or kind of user—is designed.

What Did He See?

 Today is Groundhog Day.

According to ancient folklore, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter will follow. If he doesn’t, spring is imminent.

Drumroll…

Six more weeks.  Well, that is more or less when Spring Equinox, a.k.a. the “official “ first day of Spring arrives.

Sometimes I think Andy Warhol had Phil in mind when he said that everyone will have 15 minutes of fame.

I wonder what he does during the rest of the year.

Update:  Staten Island Chuck, out local “colleague “ of Phil, didn’t see his shadow.

A Legend Remains Off-Limits

 The exact place and moment mountain biking was “born” has been debated. What hasn’t been disputed, however, is that it evolved from a few young people (their inhibitions possibly loosened by an herb, if you know what I mean) bombing down fire trails and rocky paths in Northern California and Upper New England (where cyclo-cross enjoyed some popularity) on old Schwinn ballon-tired bikes they bought for a couple of dollars in thrift stores or found in the rubbish.  Depending on whom you ask, that would have been in the early 1970s, or possibly even the 1960s.

Of course, it wasn’t called “mountain biking” or “off-road riding” until much later—after folks like Gary Fisher started to modify those bikes with derailleurs and cantilever brakes (coaster brakes on those old bikes burned out during long, steep descents) and Joe Breeze made bikes specifically for the purpose.

Another agreed-upon part of mountain bike lore:  One of its shrines, so to speak, is Mount Tamalpais, which offers stunning views of San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Pacific Ocean. In fact, “Mount Tam” is so iconic—in a way that l’Alpe d’Huez is in road bike racing—that bicycles, parts, accessories and clothing have been named for it.

Mountain bikers before it was “mountain biking “ on Mount Tamalpais during the 1970s.  Photo by Wende Cragg.

There are, however, some major differences between the two peaks. For one, the summit of Huez, in the French Alps, is about three times as high as “Tam.” And the views, while stunning, are entirely different. 

Also, there is a paved road with 21 virages, which is open to cyclists except, of course, when the race is approaching. (I climbed it in 2001, just before a ride up another iconic Tour de France climb would change my life. Tamalpais, on the other hand, is accessible only by trails—which have been off-limits to cyclists for about four decades.

In October, local cyclists thought they’d won “their” mountain back after the ban was lifted.  Or so they thought.

Photo by Maureen Gaffney for Outside magazine.

Just when they were ready to take a celebratory ride on the trails, a judge issued a restraining order. Turns out, several groups and the water safety commission lobbied against the opening. They cited concerns about dangers to plant and animal life—which includes rare species—and the water supply.  

Those concerns have been the basis of other bans, mainly in National and State parks.  Opening “Tam” would have involved only two trails: one for conventional mountain bikes, the other for electric mountain bikes.  I can’t help but to think the latter may have been a reason for the lobbying and the judge’s ruling:  They believe (perhaps rightly) that noise and vibrations from eBikes (which didn’t exist 40 years ago) will disturb wildlife.

It will be interesting, to say the least, to see whether Otis Guy, now 71 years old and part of the protest against the judge’s order, will ever be able to ride again on the mountain he, Gary Fisher, Joe Breeze and others made into a shrine of their beloved sport half a century ago.