Paper, Plastic, Glass, Aluminum--And Pedals

When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager in the mid-1970s, we were still seen as latter-day hippies:  Whether we rode to work or school, for fitness, to race or tour, or just because, we tended to be more environmentally-conscious than other people.  In fact, the environment was the very reason some people rode. It was, and is, one of my reasons.

The funny thing is that, nearly half a century later, cycling is still associated, correctly, with environmental consciousness.  These days, though, those associations have more overtly political overtones:  If you pedal, drive a hybrid or electric vehicle, look for ethically-sourced products and recycle, even when it isn't mandated, that makes you a"lib" and an enemy to the MAGA crowd.

There is, I must say, at least some truth to the stereotype.  We live up to it every day:

 

They Need It Like A Hole In The....

A few years ago, it seemed that "drillium" might make a comeback.  A few companies, including Velo Orange, were offering drilled-out versions of  chainrings and other components. Some still are. VO's drilled-out chainrings are actually pretty:  They seemed  seemed to be covered with pindots.  I'd actually put them on one or two of my bikes.

Back in the heyday of drillium, it seemed that anything and everything that could take a drill--and a few things that couldn't--got the treatment.  In addition to chainrings, shift levers and brake lever handles commonly got drilled.  When I first began to work in a bike shop, one of the jokes about Lambert/Viscount bikes was that they came with drilled-out tires and water bottles.

Seriously, though, some cyclists were manic with drills.  I saw toe clips and other kinds of clips--for brake cables and water bottle cages--perforated, ostensibly in the name of saving weight.  Sometimes, components that really didn't need to be any lighter were riddled with pockmarks, like the Huret Jubilee, still the lightest (and to my eye, prettiest) rear derailleur ever made.  Or this derailleur I saw on eBay:

The first-generation SunTour Cyclone might be the second-lightest rear derailleur ever made.  It's certainly lighter than any made today.  Oh, and I think the silver version with the black inset is the second-prettiest derailleur ever made:  all the more reason it shouldn't be defaced with a drill!

Shorter And Shorter, A Century Apart

The other day, and in a few previous posts, I mentioned the Rigi frame.  It had twin vertical seat stays, like the twin laterals found on the "top tubes" of many classic mixte bikes (and Vera, my green Mercian mixte).  The rear wheel actually ran between those tubes.

The reason for it was to shorten the bike's chainstays and, therefore, wheelbase.  Shorter wheelbases make for quicker acceleration and response, all other things being equal.  Rigi was probably one of the more extreme results of a race, which ran its course during the late 1970s and early 1980s, to create bikes with the shortest possible wheelbases.

That trend resulted in other permutations of bike design, like curved seat tubes.  It seemed to run again, if briefly and less widespread, just before the turn of this century, when KHS and other companies made bikes (mainly track and fixed-gear) with curved seat tubes.

Like other fads, it's not new.  Within a few years of the invention of the "safety" bicycles, designers and builders had essentially figured out what we now know about bicycle geometry.  For the most part, bikes had longer wheelbases and shallower angles than the ones on current bikes because road conditions were worse (when, indeed, there were roads!). Also, few cyclists owned (or even had access) to more than one bike, so their steeds had to be more versatile.  And, I would imagine, the materials available then weren't as strong as what we have now (most bikes were still made of iron or mild steel) and could not withstand the pounding a shorter wheelbase and shallower angles--which absorb less shock than longer wheelbases and shallower angles--would deliver.

Still, there were apparent attempts to make bikes with shorter wheelbases at the turn from the 19th to the 20th Century. (I can still remember when "the turn of the century" meant the period from about 1890 until World War I!)  This one looks particularly interesting:

If you sneeze on this 1890s "Bronco" bike, you just might go backwards!  All right, I'm exaggerating, just a little.  What I find intriguing--almost astounding, really--is that the auction house selling the bike listed it as a "cross" bike.  Did they mean "cyclo-cross"?  If they did, I wonder whether the bike was intended as such when it was made--and, presumably ridden.

The auction house also says the bike has an "axle driven crank".  Today, we call that "fixed gear":  The wheel and pedals cannot turn independently of each other.  High-wheel or "penny farthing" bikes had such a system--on the front wheel.  

That is the reason why those bikes had such large front wheels:  To get what most of us, today, would consider to be a normal riding gear--let alone anything high enough to allow for any speed--a front wheel of at least 1.5 meters (60 inches) in diameter was necessary.

Hmm...That means the gear on the Bronco must be pretty low!

Low gear and short wheelbase:  Could this be a bike intended for uphill time trials?