Last week, I wrote about the current bicycle shortage and compared it to a similar scarcity during the 1970s Bike Boom. Then, I waited three months for my Schwinn Continental, not a custom-built frame. Today I want to talk about another parallel between then and now.
There probably was never a time, save for the 1890s (or now), when everyday people were more aware of cycling and cyclists as they were from about 1969 to 1974. Back then, governments at every level from counties to the nation were floating plans to build "bikeways" (as bike lanes were called then) to, perhaps, an even greater degree than we see today.
Back then, regular cyclists included Dr. Paul Dudley White, President Eisenhower's personal physician and a founder of the American Heart Association; Stewart Udall, the Secretary of the Interior under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson and one of the founders of modern environmental movements; and John Volpe, Secretary of Transportation. Also among their number was Carl Bernstein, who helped to expose the Watergate scandal and, much to his chagrin, one of the Watergate "burglars" he exposed!
As transportation writer Carlton Reid notes, the 1970s Bike Boom offers hope, as well as cautionary tales, for today's "Boom". One hopeful sign is that while, in some areas, cyclists are stereotyped as overprivileged milennials or hipsters--the bohoisie or bourgemians, if you will: the very antithesis of a rebellion against consumer capitalism--back in the day, adult riders were labelled as "bike freaks" who were hippies, commies or worse.
More to the point, though, too many decisions about bicycle policy were being made by people who weren't cyclists and, worse, didn't have the collective memory, if you will, of cycling that Europeans and people in other parts of the world could draw upon. So there was an emphasis on "bikeways" that separated cyclists completely, not only from motorized traffic, but the community in general: They were good for leisurely weekend rides, but not for transportation. That is one reason why the massive bike sales of the early 1970s (which dwarfed mountain bike sales during their late 1980s-eary 1990s boom) did not translate into a culture in which bicycles were an integral part. Once the "boom" ended, many people hung up their bikes for good.
That ignorance of cycling extended to law enforcement officials, as it too often does now. I have been stopped by cops who insisted I broke the law when I didn't and that I should engage in practices that actually endanger cyclists, such as riding all the way to the right and following traffic signals when crossing busy intersections.
Also, as Reid points out, while bikes from that era are called "vintage" and sell for high prices on eBay, the fact is that most bikes sold during that time were of low quality. In other words, when most people bought Schwinns or Raleighs (if they didn't buy department-store bikes), they weren't buying Internationals or Paramounts, they were shelling out their money for Records or Varsities--or for any number of low-end models from makers like Atala or any number of smaller companies that haven't been heard from since. Most people never learned to even fix a flat, let alone take care of more complex problems, so when things went wrong, they never got fixed. Moreover, most of the bikes sold really weren't designed for the way people were riding them. That is why, for example, lower-end ten-speeds came with brake extension (a.k.a. "suicide") levers: Most casual cyclists are better off with upright or flat handlebars than on drop bars.
So, Reid cautions that we must learn that--as Richard Ballantine argued in his 1972 book--"bikeways" alone are not alone the answer. For one thing, it's much better to take lanes and streets from vehicular traffic and to raise awareness of cyclists, pedestrians and motorists alike of cyclists' right to ride. So are bikes that are suited to the riders' needs and inclinations. Otherwise, a lot of the bikes purchased today will be hanging in rafters--or buried in landfills--by 2030.
There probably was never a time, save for the 1890s (or now), when everyday people were more aware of cycling and cyclists as they were from about 1969 to 1974. Back then, governments at every level from counties to the nation were floating plans to build "bikeways" (as bike lanes were called then) to, perhaps, an even greater degree than we see today.
Back then, regular cyclists included Dr. Paul Dudley White, President Eisenhower's personal physician and a founder of the American Heart Association; Stewart Udall, the Secretary of the Interior under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson and one of the founders of modern environmental movements; and John Volpe, Secretary of Transportation. Also among their number was Carl Bernstein, who helped to expose the Watergate scandal and, much to his chagrin, one of the Watergate "burglars" he exposed!
As transportation writer Carlton Reid notes, the 1970s Bike Boom offers hope, as well as cautionary tales, for today's "Boom". One hopeful sign is that while, in some areas, cyclists are stereotyped as overprivileged milennials or hipsters--the bohoisie or bourgemians, if you will: the very antithesis of a rebellion against consumer capitalism--back in the day, adult riders were labelled as "bike freaks" who were hippies, commies or worse.
More to the point, though, too many decisions about bicycle policy were being made by people who weren't cyclists and, worse, didn't have the collective memory, if you will, of cycling that Europeans and people in other parts of the world could draw upon. So there was an emphasis on "bikeways" that separated cyclists completely, not only from motorized traffic, but the community in general: They were good for leisurely weekend rides, but not for transportation. That is one reason why the massive bike sales of the early 1970s (which dwarfed mountain bike sales during their late 1980s-eary 1990s boom) did not translate into a culture in which bicycles were an integral part. Once the "boom" ended, many people hung up their bikes for good.
That ignorance of cycling extended to law enforcement officials, as it too often does now. I have been stopped by cops who insisted I broke the law when I didn't and that I should engage in practices that actually endanger cyclists, such as riding all the way to the right and following traffic signals when crossing busy intersections.
Also, as Reid points out, while bikes from that era are called "vintage" and sell for high prices on eBay, the fact is that most bikes sold during that time were of low quality. In other words, when most people bought Schwinns or Raleighs (if they didn't buy department-store bikes), they weren't buying Internationals or Paramounts, they were shelling out their money for Records or Varsities--or for any number of low-end models from makers like Atala or any number of smaller companies that haven't been heard from since. Most people never learned to even fix a flat, let alone take care of more complex problems, so when things went wrong, they never got fixed. Moreover, most of the bikes sold really weren't designed for the way people were riding them. That is why, for example, lower-end ten-speeds came with brake extension (a.k.a. "suicide") levers: Most casual cyclists are better off with upright or flat handlebars than on drop bars.
So, Reid cautions that we must learn that--as Richard Ballantine argued in his 1972 book--"bikeways" alone are not alone the answer. For one thing, it's much better to take lanes and streets from vehicular traffic and to raise awareness of cyclists, pedestrians and motorists alike of cyclists' right to ride. So are bikes that are suited to the riders' needs and inclinations. Otherwise, a lot of the bikes purchased today will be hanging in rafters--or buried in landfills--by 2030.
