On The Wire

The bicycle has been called the "grandparent of the airplane."

OK, the original phrase is "grandfather of the airplane."  But in this day and age, no one--especially I--can be sexist.

Anyway, the saying most likely came about because some of the bicycle's technological innovations--including pneumatic tires--made aircraft possible.  Also, many of aviation's early pioneers--including the Wright Brothers themselves--started out as bicycle mechanics, designers, racers or manufacturers.

Perhaps that was the reason why, I believe, the subconscious of the cycling world, as it were, has always harbored the dream of a flying bicycle--which has been done--and of riding a bicycle through the air.

About the latter:  If you go to Arizona Science Center, you can do just that.  But you won't be suspended in the ether.  Rather, if you dare, you can ride a bicycle on a wire suspended across a 15-foot span.

Since it's in the Science Center, you don't run any risk of landing on cactus if you fall.  Still, even if you are a novice, falling could be a blow to your psyche, if not your body.  I imagine, however, that even an experienced cyclist (like yours truly) would feel a sense of pride over completing such a ride, however brief it may be.

After that, the only thing better might be cycling in a pink cloud.

 

What's The Wright Thing To Do?

 Two months ago, I wrote about a Dayton, Ohio building that once housed a bicycle shop.  Over decades, after the bicycle boom that straddled the 19th and 20th Centuries faded, the building came to serve other purposes, including the headquarters of an ice cream company.  

Now that building is in severe disrepair and, according to one city official, "could fall down at any moment." Moreover, the city's Director of Planning says that if the owners of the bicycle shop come back, "they would not recognize the building," as a new façade was added when the ice cream company moved in and other changes were made.

 Others argue, though, that the city--which has owned the building since 1998--allowed it to deteriorate and therefore should be responsible for repairing it and making it the historic and cultural landmark they believe it should be.

Last Tuesday, the city's zoning appeals board voted to approve the city's request to demolish it. Part of the rationale for the vote is that it's all but impossible to return the building to what it was. Even if such a thing is possible, the pro-demolition people say, the city can't afford it:  De-industrialization and the 2008 financial crisis ravaged the city in ways from which it still has not recovered.

I have never been to Dayton, but from what I've read and heard, it suffered a similar fate to cities like Camden, New Jersey (where I have been) after jobs were lost and people moved to the suburbs.  But, interestingly, Dayton also played a role in two significant historical events.  One of them involved the owners of the bike shop; the other led to the creation of a nation.

In 1995, the parties in a conflict involving the former Yugoslavia negotiated a peace accord that resulted in the founding of Bosnia-Herzegovina. (Say that three times fast!)  The treaty was signed in an Air Force base just outside the city, but the agreement is known by the name of this city.  And the bike shop owners became two of the most famous people in the history of the world.

The settlement I've mentioned is known today as the Dayton Accord.  So, if you ever go to B-H, remember that it's there because of a city in Ohio.  And those bike shop owners...perhaps you've heard of the Wright Brothers.

Yes, the building I mentioned was home to their business.  Almost everyone agrees that they learned the principles (including aerodynamics, via experimentation with riding positions) of creating a vehicle designed for flight from building, assembling and riding bicycles.

Photo by Ty Greenlees for the Dayton Daily News 

Now, I must say that as a cyclist and someone who cares about history, my heart is in the preservationists' camp, even though I understand the pro-demolitionists' arguments. As I am not a structural engineer and have never been to the building site, I am in no position to say whether the edifice can be saved.  I would aver, however,  that struggling cities have used their cultural and historic heritage as keys that opened the door to revitalization.  For two decades or so after World War II, even "the Hub"--Boston--was on the ropes.  Of course, it had many things going for it:  an attractive location, world-class universities, hospitals and museums and diversity in its population, in addition to an historic and cultural heritage few other American cities can rival.  The same can be said for Pittsburgh, which later underwent a renaissance similar to Boston's. 

I realize that Dayton is a smaller city in a different part of the nation, but I should think that embracing its historic and cultural heritage couldn't hurt. I mean, how many other places can claim to be "the birthplace of aviation?"  The Wright Brothers might not recognize the building that housed their bicycle shop, but I think the world recognizes their contribution--which was made possible by their work with bicycles.

What Would The Wright Brothers Have Done?

Photo by Cornelius Frolik

Two New York City boroughs, the Bronx and Queens, had similar histories and patterns of development, at least until the 1970s.  During that decade, fires ravaged parts of the Bronx, and others areas of the borough were gutted by de-industrialization and disinvestment, both by the city and private entities.  Still, the Bronx has more buildings and districts considered historically significant—some with landmark designation—than Queens has.  In fact, there are more Art Deco buildings in the Bronx than anywhere else in the United States except Miami.

One  reason why the Bronx has more historically significant buildings is, ironically, that the devastation of the 1970s discouraged developers from coming into the Bronx—and, as they are wont to do, tear buildings down.  On the other hand, during that time, Queens had a Borough President—Donald Manes—who never met a developer he didn’t like and had absolutely no interest in historic preservation.

I mention all of this because whenever a building is suggested for preservation, there is a debate about what, exactly, makes a structure historically significant and to what lengths should a city, county or other entity go to preserve it.

Specifically, both questions are being debated about 1005 West Third Street in Dayton, Ohio.  The city government wants to tear down the building because its internal structures have deteriorated after decades of disuse and neglect.  “It could collapse tonight, it could stand for another three years—nobody knows,” says Don Zimmer, Dayton’s nuisance abatement program supervisor.  

The Dayton Landmarks Commission has, however, denied the city’s request to tear it down.  They, along with Preservation Dayton, argue that at least  the building’s exterior could be preserved, which might entice a would-be investor.

So why are they debating about this particular building?  It’s not because the edifice was home to Gem City Ice Cream Co., as significant as that might be to some people in the area.  Rather, it has to do with GCICC’s predecessor:  a bike shop.

Specifically, it was home to the Wright Brothers’ first bicycle shop.  Yes, those Wright Brothers—who based much of their first successful aircraft’s design on their bicycles.

One wonders what they would do about the building.

Worth Its Weight In...

A few days ago, someone paid $5.2 million for a LeBron James trading card from his rookie year.  While I cannot understand paying that much money for a piece of cardboard, I am not surprised:  Basketball, more than any other team sport, focuses attention on individual stars.  And Le Bron James is arguably the brightest of the 21st Century, much as Michael Jordan, "Magic" Johnson and Julius "Dr. J" Erving were the luminaries of their times.

Of course, if someone can afford to spend that much money on a card, well, who am I to tell them they shouldn't?  I suppose that if I had that much money, I probably would--after I helped people I want to help--develop some collection or another.  And some people would wonder why in the world I was collecting whatever it was I was collecting.

If I were collecting bicycles...hmm...would I want classics?   Bikes from a particular country or region?  Genre?  Color?  Or would I concentrate on really obscure bikes, or ones that were not meant to be ridden?

In that last category might be this machine:

Photo by Lisa Powell, for the Springfield News-Sun

The color on the frame didn't come from a Krylon rattle-can. (Aside:  Graffiti artists don't like Krylon. Don't ask how I know that!)  In fact, it didn't come from any can or brush.  It is actual gold.  

To be exact, it's 14 karat gold plating on a chromed frame.  Very few bikes are chromed these days because it's expensive and some jurisdictions have made it all but impossible to do because of its environmental impact.  Also, if not done properly, it's worse than leaving the metal bare.

Even fewer bikes have ever been plated with gold.  For a time, some Campagnolo parts were available with gold plating; a few bike makers made special-edition machines--sometimes one-offs--with the shiny yellow stuff.  In 1972-73, Lambert of England offered its bike built from "aircraft tubing" with gold plating--for $259.95.  Soon afterward, the price of gold skyrocketed and Lambert discontinued those bikes--which, I am sure, are collector's items.

Most other gold-plated bikes were from makers at the very top end of the food chain.  Note that I said "most":  The bike in the photo is not anywhere near that level.

It is, in fact, a Huffy--the millionth bike produced by the company, on 13 May 1947.

The bike is on display in the Dayton Cyclery Building its namesake city's Carillon Park.  Other bikes in the museum pay homage to Miami Valley's history as a bicycle-making center.  Fabricators included a couple of young men who would parlay their knowledge and skills into another invention that would change the world.

Their names were Orville and Wilbur.  They used, not only the expertise in machinery they gleaned from building and repairing bikes, but what they learned about aerodynamics from different bike designs and riding positions. 

Hmm...I wonder what the Wright Brothers thought about Huffy bikes.  From what I've read, Huffy--known in those days as Huffman--bikes were actually respectable.

Building in 3D

I guess we shouldn't be surprised.

On Friday, I wrote about a 3D printed airless tire.  When I learned about it, I knew that other 3D printed parts were being made somewhere. 

Turns out, I underestimated the speed of technological progress.  Now there's a 3D printed bicycle that looks like a sci-fi version of an urban commuter bike--and is said to be stronger than titanium.

The new machine was made by Arevo, a Silcon Valley (where else?) startup that specializes in "additive manufacturing" (tech-speak for engineering-level 3D printing).  The company is backed by the venture capital arm of the Central Intelligence Agency, which isn't surprising when you realize that the armed forces are the main drivers behind 3D's evolution from a novel way to make chintzy plastic figurines to a sophisticated technological process used to make weaponry.

(Few people realize that the Silicon Valley became, well, the Silicon Valley largely because of military contracts during the Cold War.  So, if you're going to thank a soldier or sailor for anything, make sure it's for making the iPhone possible, not for invading Iraq!)

The bicycle's frame was made first, as a single piece, and the other parts were made.  According to Arevo CEO Jim Miller (formerly of Google), it took about two weeks to make the bike.  

Knowing that answers the question folks like me ask about carbon fiber bicycles: "Why does something made of plastic cost so much?"  Well, carbon bike frames--whether of custom chassis from the likes of Land Shark or the Specialized items your local bike shop offers--are made by workers who lay, by hand, individual layers of carbon fiber impregnated with resin around a mold of a frame.  The frame is then baked in an oven to melt the resin and bind the carbon strips together.

Arevo takes workers out of the process.  It uses a "deposition head" on a robotic arm to print out the three-dimensional shape of the frame.  The head then lays down strands of carbon fiber and melts a thermoplastic material to bind the strands, all in one step.   The result is that Arevo can build a frame for $300, even in The Valley.  That is about what it currently costs to build a similar frame in Asia.

Of course, even though Miller is reportedly a cyclist, he doesn't see Arevo as the next Schwinn or Trek or Specialized:  The company is working on a head that can run along rails and print larger parts, avoiding the need of ovens in which to bake them.  "We can print as big as you want--the fuselage of an aircraft, the wing of an aircraft," he says.

Surely he knows the Wright Brothers started as bicycle builders...

Reserved For Birds And Angels

A bishop and a professor were discussing philosophy.  (I know, it sounds like the beginning of a really geeky joke!)  

The bishop averred that The Millennium was at hand.  Evidence of that, he said, was that everything about nature had been discovered and all useful inventions created. 

The professor politely told the bishop he was mistaken.  "Why, in a few years," he proclaimed, "we'll be able to fly through the air."

The bishop was having none of it.  "What a nonsensical idea!," he exclaimed.  "Flight," he tried to assure the professor, "is reserved for birds and angels."  Being the good bishop he was, he added, "To think otherwise is blasphemy!"

This story is rich with irony.  The encounter between the suffragan and the savant occurred late in the nineteenth century.  So, whether or not he intended it, the professor was as much a seer as a sage.  The diocesan, on the other hand, sounded more like a die-hard Luddite.

The name of the professor has been lost to history.  But the bishop achieved some degree of fame in his time, having attained a rather high office in the Church of the United Brethren in Christ, whose members included some rather influential Americans in a number of endeavors.

This bishop's sons were among them.  They first made something of a name for themselves in the bicycle business, which was would experience its first great boom not long after the bishop made his pronouncement. 

Today we know that bishop's name mainly because of his sons.  Even if you have never been anywhere near a bicycle, you've heard of them.  Since you already know their names, whether or not you know it, I will tell you who that esteemed ecclesiastical authority was:  someone named Milton Wright.

Yes, his two sons were those Wrights.  Of course, they achieved even greater fame--though not fortune--for doing what their father said couldn't be done.  Yes, Orville and Wilbur got to do what all kids, at some point in their lives, try (and, some would argue, need) to do:  They proved their father wrong.  He didn't deny it, but he never seemed terribly impressed.  

But, in one sense, he was right (pun intended):  Humans cannot fly--without some sort of device or other aid, anyway.  Even on a bicycle.

With that in mind, I have found the perfect headgear for him, his sons and everyone else, whether or not they've ever pedaled on the velodrome:

Propelled To Insanity

If you are of a certain age (i.e., my age), you recall the early years of Saturday Night Live.  Some of the most memorable moments came during some of the shows-within-the-show. 

One such show was "What If?", which took zany, absurd takes on historical figures and events. One episode featured Superman landing in Nazi Germany instead of Kansas; another had Napoleon fighting the Battle of Waterloo with a B 52 bomber. Perhaps the most famous episode of all was the "What If Eleanor Roosevelt Could Fly?" sketch. 

That got me to thinking:  What if the Wright Brothers couldn't--or didn't--fly? 

Or what if they had stuck to their original occupations as bike mechanics and designers?

I found this propellered bike on Strangefunkidz.com, but couldn't find any other information about it.  I'd love to know how it was built and how much it was ridden--or whether it's still intact!
 

The Wright Day For A Couple Of Bike Mechanics

You probably know what happened on this date in 1903:  the Wright Brothers made the first controlled, powered and sustained heavier-than-air human flight in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.

It's often said, inaccurately, that the flight the Brothers made that day was the "first" flight.  Actually, people had flown for centuries before that in gliders, hot-air balloons and other airborne vehicles.  But those flights were wholly dependent on the speed and direction of the wind; they had no other power source and therefore could be kept up only for very limited amounts of time.  Other would-be inventors tried to make airplanes or gliders with wings that flapped or could otherwise be made to propel or steer them.  Needless to say, they proved unsuccessful.

The real innovations in the Wright Brothers' plane were that its wings were fixed,  it was powered by something other than the wind and that controls (which the Brothers invented) regulated the course of the flight. 

That control--known as the three-axis control-- may have been the most important innovation of all:  It's still used on all fixed-wing aircraft, from crop dusters to the Boeing 787 Dreamliner and the Airbus A 380. It's the reason that every one of those planes can keep their equilibrium, a.k.a. balance, throughout a flight.  If an aircraft can't be balanced, it can't fly.

Now...Think of another vehicle that can't move forward unless it's balanced.

Since you're reading this blog, the bicycle is probably the first such vehicle that came to  mind.  So, it should come as no surprise that the Brothers were bicycle mechanics and, later, manufacturers.  They studied motion and balance using bicycles in their homemade wind tunnel. Knowing this shatters the common misperception that when Shimano and other bicycle parts manufacturers, as well as bicycle makers, were making "aerodynamic" equipment, they were following the lead of the aerospace industries.  In fact, as we have seen, the Wright Brothers and other inventors were studying the aerodynamics of the bicycle eight decades before Shimano or other companies paid heed.

So...The next time you see an aerodynamic bike or part, you can thank (or blame) Orville and Wilbur Wright.

Is The Old New? Or Is The New Old?

The book of Ecclesiastes tells us "there is nothing new under the sun".

That is no doubt true of the bicycle world, especially when it comes to "innovations".

I many not be very old. (At least, that's what I tell myself.) But when younger cyclists during the '80's treated newfangled aluminum frames with awe, as their counterparts would for titanium and carbon fiber frames a decade later, I could say "Been there, done that!"

When I was first becoming an active cyclist--and learning about different kinds of bikes--during the 1970's, frames were being made from all of those materials. Now, they weren't mass market:  In constant dollars, they were far more expensive, and even more exotic, than the ones made today.  !"

But aluminum frames were of the "screwed and glued" variety made by ALAN in Italy and, later, by Vitus in France.  Carbon fiber frames were similarly constructed:  the tubes were bolted and bonded into aluminum lugs.  And titanium frames, like those from Speedwell in England, were constructed in much the same manner as fillet-brazed steel frames.

Speedwell's construction, similar to those employed by rival titanium bike-maker Teledyne, were meticulous and sound.  However, the metal used was almost pure titanuium, which resulted in a bike that was neither stiff nor strudy.  No one realized that titanium had to be alloyed.

As for aluminum, everyone involved in building bikes knew enough not to use the metal in its pure form, mainly becuse aluminum alloy components had been in use for decades.  What they didn't realize, until the Klein bicycle was designed, was that they had to increase the diameter of the tubes to get anything like the stiffness of a good steel bike.

And there was even more to learn about using carbon fiber, and the molding technologies used now were two decades away.

Although I had witnessed earlier incarnations of those kinds of bikes during my youth, I didn't realize then that aluminum and titanium frames were built during the 1890's.  They weren't as widely-used as those of iron or steel--or even wood.  But it's still instructive to note that the technologies, in their rudimentary forms, existed then.

It was also interesting to find out--as I did, just recently--that two other "innovations" associated with the last quarter-century or so actually have as long a history as that of frames made from "exotic" materials.



Believe it or not, there were patents for suspension systems and aerodynamic bars in the 1880's and 1890's.  Any attempt to cushion the ride was bound to get a reception from somebody, as the high-wheelers and "boneshakers" of the time gave even harsher rides than modern time-trial bikes with the most extreme geometries.  Also, most roads of the time were unpaved.

But it seems that less effort was put into developing suspension systems once Dr. Dunlop invented the pneumatic tire.  It not only made bikes faster than they were before, it also gave a "floating on air" sensation, as at least one rider reported.  

As for aero bars:  Well, this pair was developed more for comfort:  It gave riders an extra hand position as well as a place to rest their arms.  A few riders have told me they rode aero bars for that reason alone, and it was one of the benefits of the "cowhorn" bars I rode on my old (Italian) Bianchi track bike.

There was another reason why aerodynamic bars were developed.  To be precise, there's a reason why two men in particular--brothers--came up with their version of them.

You might have guessed that the fraternal pair were Orville and Wilbur Wright.  Yes, they used their bars in attempts to measure air drag and wind resistance, two very important considerations in their development of their gossamer-winged wonder.

All of the above illustrations came from Roads Were Not Built for Cars.