Sunset Bikes?

A week ago, I gave you, dear readers, a lesson in business history disguised as a post about an aspect of bicycling.

Specifically, I reported on Uber's foray into the bike-share market.  This shows that the company's decision-makers realize are not mistaking their business for their industry, as other companies did before it was too late.  Actually, Uber executives probably realized that in New York and other cities, the model they pioneered--taxis that could be hailed by a phone app--was undermining the taxi industry because there were simply too many on the streets. (This has had tragic results: Six cabbies have committed suicide this year.)  Whatever the case, Uber made the move to dockless bike-sharing, which could be said to be part of the new "share economy"--or of the transportation industry.

Now another company is venturing into a related industry--that of bicycles themselves.  What's really interesting about this story is that this firm, which makes one of the most iconic American products, has an all-but-forgotten history as a bicycle manufacturer.  And the products for which it's currently known have---two wheels!

Yes, I am talking about Harley Davidson.  If you're of a certain age, you remember Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda astride custom Harleys in 1969's Easy Rider.  But, in recent years, the brand's image has become as staid as that of Buick or Oldsmobile--or, ahem, Schwinn.  As it is, milennials are far less likely than anyone over 35 to buy any motorcycle at all, and among those who have the funds and inclination to buy one, Harley is seen as an "old white guy's brand."  

So, one has to wonder whether Harley's introduction of a limted-edition cruiser will achieve its intended goal of reaching younger consumers--especially with its $4200 price tag.  Ironically, Harley's earlier incursion into the bike market, from 1917 to 1922, was also an attempt to "hook" younger people--in this case children--on the company's brand in the hope they would grow up to buy the company's motorcycles.

The limited-edition Harley

Now, I am not trying to knock Harley or motorcycling in general.  My uncle rode for more than half a century and finally got the Harley he always wanted just a couple of years before he had to stop riding.  If anything, I feel sad for him, because he had to stop doing something he loved, and perhaps a little sad for Harley.  After all, the bikes and the brand practically scream "Americana" and they were made, for decades, in Milwaukee by union workers. 

In a sad irony, the tariffs imposed by El Cheeto Grande with the ostensible purpose of protecting American workers and industries may deal another, if not the ultimate, blow to a company that's been on the ropes for some time.  More than one analyst familiar with the company and industry says that for some time, overseas sales have been keeping Harley-Davidson afloat.  Perhaps the tariffs that were supposed to be the gunboats guarding the company could instead be the torpedo that sinks them--and one has to wonder whether their bicycles will be their life preservers.

Is It Still A Bicycle?

An Outside magazine article raised this question, specifically in reference to the HPC Revolution.

Here is the verdict, from Ty Brookhart and Wes Siler, the article's authors:  "Because no one is going to buy an 82-pound bicycle, that essentially means HPC is selling a very light electric motorcycle that, thanks to pedals and post-sale programming, is legally considered a bicycle."

Got that?  The pedals are there simply to fit the legal definition of a bicycle.  That confirms what I suspected about many of the e-bikes I've seen lately:  It's hard to imagine that their riders actually used the pedals.  Or, if they did, it was difficult to conceive of using them for anything but starting the bike.  

My purpose in raising  that issue is not to rebuke riders who choose to motor rather than pedal.  Rather, I mention it because of a concern I have:  Those bikes are often ridden at motorcycle speeds, often in places where motorized vehicles don't belong.

I am not merely expressing anxiety over a "what if?"  Instead, I am speaking from observation and experience--in particular, a close encounter I had with one of those "bikes" on the Queensborough Bridge bike lane last night.  It was rolling faster than the cars on the main roadway, where traffic volume was considerably below that of the rush-hour peak.  It was also faster than the train that rose from the tunnel and up the ramp--just a few yards to the side of the bike lane--to the Queensborough Plaza station.

The worst part was that I didn't hear the e-bike approaching me until the rider came within a few hairs from brushing against my elbow.

And, yes, that "bike" had pedals.  More than likely, it also had the "programming" Brookhart and Siler mention--a speed limiter that caps the bike's velocity at 20MPH.  That limiter, along with the pedals, allows such machines to be sold as "bicycles".  As often as not, users remove that limiter.  I'm sure that the guy who almost knocked me down removed his--or had it removed.

I am not the first to argue that such "bikes" shouldn't be ridden anywhere near where human-powered bikes are pedaled.  If anything, those bikes are even more dangerous, to pedestrians as well as cyclists, because they are silent and less visible than cars or other motorized vehicles.  But, as best as I can tell, as long as those "bikes" can be classified as bicycles, there isn't much anyone can do to restrict them.