Along For The Ride

 We’ve all seen sepia-toned photos of mustachioed, too-hatted men astride “penny-farthing” (high-wheeler) bikes.

You may even have seen an image of a woman—probably in “bloomers”—on one of those machines.

But what about the kids?

Down And Back

Today's post will answer a question that, most likely, you've never asked.

We've all seen someone ride a bicycle backwards.  At least, a bicycle as we know it, with two wheels of equal (or nearly-equal) size.

And we've all seen someone ride a bicycle down stairs. In fact, some of us (yes, I include myself) have done it.

But has anyone ever ridden a "penny farthing" (high-wheeler) backwards down a flight of stairs?

And, if they did, did they live to tell about it? 

Google And Penny Farthings

Google turns 25 years old today.

So how does that relate to a bike race in England?

To my knowledge, the world’s most-used search engine has nothing to do with its sponsorship or organization. It may, however be a reason the race was run the other day.

I am talking about the 2023 Penny Farthing Championships.  Penny Farthing, as you may know, was a nickname for the high-wheeled bicycles that were popular before “safety” bicycles—like the ones we ride today—were developed. 

In contrast to today’s bikes, with chain-and-sprocket drives and wheels of equal, or nearly equal diameter, Penny Farthings were propelled by cranks attached directly to the axle of the front wheel, which was much larger than the rear. The proportion of the two wheels reminded English people of two of their coins, hence the name.

 

So, you may still be asking, what does Google have to do with a style of bicycle that all but disappeared by the mid-1890s?

Well, although I am in, ahem, midlife, I am old enough to remember—and have been an active cyclist—in the days before Google, or the Internet. In the 1980s and 1990s, vintage bikes, parts and accessories were all but impossible to find unless you chanced upon an old shop that was closing.  News of the few swap meets spread through word of mouth or printed notices, as often as not found at local club meetings.  

During that time, younger or newer cyclists were unaware of those beautiful old bikes, bags and clothing in traditional designs and materials.  Some companies that made them went out of business and no one was picking up the torch, so to speak.

Moreover, people who had older bikes and parts gave up on them when they couldn’t find replacements or people who knew how to work on, say, their old Sturney-Archer hubs. So, companies didn’t make or offer replacements or reproductions because “there was no demand.”

But the Internet—especially after the launch of Google—made not only bikes and parts, but information about them, more available.  Perhaps even more important, it allowed an aficionado of, say, vintage hand-built steel frames or randonneur bags who might be the only such person in his or her area to connect with someone in another town or even country.  I believe that such connections had much to do with increased i’interest in those bikes, parts and accessories—which, perhaps ironically, took off not long after Google launched.

Would the current interest in penny farthings, which has grown particularly strong in England, have happened without Google?  I can’t answer that.  All I can say is that I find the sight of Lycra-clad young people astride high-wheeled bikes charming, if incongruous.

Traction, Up Front

 

Specialites TA is known for making high-quality cranks, chainrings, bottle cages and other bike parts and accessories.

Most people refer to the company simply as "TA," without any notion as to what it signifies.*  It never would occur to most people that "TA" is an acronym for "Traction Avant", or front drive.

Specialites TA  founder Georges Navet was, like Tullio Campagnolo, a craftsman with an imagination--what we might call a "tinkerer."  Navet, a joiner/carpenter, was fascinated by a then-new Citroen innovation:  the front-wheel drive automobile.  Why can't we have a bicycle like that?, he wondered.  

Now, if you want to be technical (pun intended), front wheel drive bicycles were not new:  Before the invention of the chain-and-sprocket drive, bicycles were propelled by crams and pedals attached to the front wheel.  That is why front wheels of 1880s high-wheel (“penny farthing”) bikes were usually much larger than rear ones.  Navet, however, wanted to create a front-wheel drive bike on which the gear didn't depend on the size of the wheel.

Sadly for him, none of his traction avant experiments worked.  But in the meantime, derailleurs gained popularity and were finally approved for use in competition.  The real potential, he saw, was in cranksets with multiple chainrings--in aluminum alloy, for light weight--in a wide range of sizes.  A triple crankset greatly expanded the gear range offered by freewheels of the time (just after WWII), which had three or four sprockets ranging in size from 14 to 24 teeth.

(Now you know why those old derailleurs from Campagnolo, Huret and Simplex could wrap up yards and yards, or meters and meters, of chain even if they couldn't handle more than a 24  or 26 tooth rear sprocket:  They were designed to accommodate the gearing available at the time.)

So, in a sense, even though he couldn't realize his vision of a front wheel drive bicycle, Georges Navet achieved another kind of traction avant with his cranksets and chainrings.

*--When I was growing up in Brooklyn, some of the subway cars bore TA logos, for Transit Authority. In the academic world, a “TA” is a teaching assistant:  usually, a grad student who does the work senior tenured profs don’t want to do.  To this day, I associate TA with trains and schools as well as bikes!

Would Fat Have Become A Fad?

Practically from the moment Specialized introduced the "Stumpjumper" in 1981, would-be pundits said that mountain bikes were a "fad."  Some of those wise folk were in Schwinn's management, which may be a reason why the company filed for bankruptcy a decade later.

Anyway, any number of things in the bike world have been called "fads" almost from the moment they saw the light of day.  One of them is the "fat bike", which typically sports tires 3 inches or more in width.  Although I have never ridden, and probably won't ride, such a bike myself, I am not about to sound its death knell, even if most examples of the genre I've seen don't exactly fit in with my sense of aesthetics.

Still, though, I have to wonder whether "fat bikes" would have endured had they been introduced, say, 130 years ago. 

That is about the time "safety" bicycles appeared.  They are like the machines most of us ride today:  two wheels of the same size powered by a chain-driven drivetrain.  Before that, cyclists mounted "penny-farthings" with front wheels of 60 to 80 inches (150 to 200 centimeters).  Could such a bike have been made "fat"?

Looking at that photo, I can't help but to think that perhaps "fat" bikes would have been a fad that disappeared, say around 1890 if the first "fatties" had been high-wheelers!

And What Did You Find In Your Barn?

What have you found in your attic or barn?

Well, I have never had a barn and, at the moment, I don't have an attic.  So I've never come across some masterpiece one of my grandparents bought at a flea market without realizing what they got.  Then again, my grandparents came to this country because they didn't want to shop in flea markets:  To them, not being poor anymore meant buying shiny, new stuff, not "other people's junk."  

Anyway, I've bought stuff in flea markets by choice and, while I've found stuff I like, I have never unwittingly bought something by an old master.  Or any other interesting artifact of history.  If I ever do, perhaps by then I'll have an attic--or a barn--where I can stash it and someone can find it long after I'm gone.

Then again, I don't know that I'd buy such things unwittingly.  If I knew I'd stumbled over a treasure, I'd stay calm, buy it and celebrate after I brought it home.

Especially if it's a rare old bicycle.

Glynn Stockdale in his Penny Farthing Museum, in Cheshire.

That is what Glynn Stockdale did.  He couldn't believe his luck when he found what he calls "the holy grail" of collectors' items. Or, more precisely, when it found him.

The Knutsford, Cheshire resident received a call about a two-wheeled contraption someone found in a disused barn during a demolition.  It's not known how long the vehicle was there, but Stockdale, a self-described bicycle enthusiast, immediately recognized it as a "hobby horse".

The Johnson hobby-horse, 1819

Turns out, Denis Johnson made it in 1819. He made 319 others that year, after getting a patent for it the previous year, and only 12 are known to be in existence today.

Aside from the fact that it's nearly two centuries old, why did the Johnson hobby-horse so excite him?  Well, most historians agree that the first bicycle--or, at least the first vehicle to be recognized as such--was made by Karl von Drais in 1816.  Like the Johnson creation, it consisted of two wheels and was propelled, not by pedals, but by the rider pushing his or her feet along the ground.  Its popularity spread to the upper classes-- of Paris (where it was called the Draisienne) and London.  Soon, versions of the Draisienne were being made in England and France.

Thus, Mr. Stockdale may well have acquired one of the very first--if not the very first--bicycle made in England.  And Johnson may have been the first to make a dropped-bar version of the bike for women to accomodate the long skirts they wore at that time.

It's a good thing Mr. Stockdale got a hold of it.  He is no ordinary bike enthusiast:  A former interior designer, he started his penny farthing museum in Cheshire in 1989. That museum, of course, will be the Johnson bike's new home.

The Boneshaker Big Wheel

Some of us try to turn our commutes into mini-workouts.  There are all sorts of ways to do that.  One is to simply ride at a vigorous pace.  Another is to ride in a higher gear than we'd normally ride on a given road or path.  (Or we might ride a fixed-gear bike.)  Still another way is to ride a heavier bike than we'd ride for fun.  Or we might find routes that are more challenging or simply longer than the ones we might've otherwise taken to work.

I have been choosing the latter option. Even though the cycle/pedestrian bridge from Randall's Island to the Bronx has opened, I've been taking the old walkway on the west side of the RFK Bridge spur because accessing it involves pedaling up a fairly steep ramp that zig-zags.  So, for a moment, I can pretend I'm pumping my way up the road on l'Alpe d'Huez as I'm on my way to work in the Bronx.

I admit, it's not a long incline.  But it at least provides a challenge, however brief, on an otherwise flat commute.  Maybe I'll find a route from the new bridge to my workplace that is a bit more challenging (or, again, simply longer) than the one I took the couple of times I've ridden over that bridge.

Now, if I really wanted a workout, I suppose I could ride this:




The Boneshaker Big Wheel, by artist Ron Schroer, is described as "the steampunk love child" of a boneshaker and a penny-farthing.  Riding it to work would certainly be interesting.  Parking, even more so, I think:  Would it attract a would-be thief?  Maybe.  Then again, someone who tried to take off with it probably wouldn't get very far--unless, of course, he had experience in riding boneshakers or penny-farthings!

Whether You Autumn Or Fall, Please Don't Take A Header!

A few posts ago, I made a lame pun to explain why I prefer "autumn" to "fall", especially when it comes to cycling.

No one has ever autumned off his or her bike.  On the other hand, just about every cyclist has taken a fall.  

I have taken a few in my time.  None resulted in my missing any significant amount of time from riding. Ironically, the only injuries that kept me off my bike for more than a few days were not cycling-related.  Ditto for the one other event that kept me out of the saddle:  my surgery.

Of the falls I have taken, two resulted in my head making any contact with whatever I was riding, and fell, on.  

The first came when I was pedaling from Park Slope, where I lived at the time, to a school in the Bronx where I'd been conducting poetry workshops as an artist-in residence. I had just spun my way across the Greenpoint Avenue  Bridge and veered left onto Van Dam Street, in an industrial area of Long Island City, Queens.  About two blocks into Queens, a truck driver flung his door open, and into my side--causing the one and only somersault I've ever done on my bike.  Some would argue it wasn't a true somersault, as I didn't push my hands out in time to keep me from rolling on my head.

The second time, I was riding my mountain bike in Forest Park.  I was pedaling at  high-octane pace and was in my own little zone, not paying attention to my surroundings.

Well, in my path was a mound the BMXers used to flip themselves in the air.  I rode up on it--in the wrong direction, on the nearly-vertical side.  

Well, I flipped over. But I didn't flip back. Instead of landing on my wheels, as any of the 14-year-old kids would have, I came to earth upside down.

Those 14-year-olds rushed to my side.  "We really thought you were gonna die!", one of them chimed after helping me up. I never lost consciousness, but when I got up, I noticed that my helmet had broken.  In two.

OK.  So now you probably have figured out my position on helmets.  Yes, I wear them and encourage others to do likewise.  

Even though I had a helmet protecting me in each of those accidents, I count the lucky stars I didn't see when I feel that I have never taken a "header".  I hope you haven't either.

A line drawing of the world's first "header".  From Roads Were Not Built For Cars.

It seems that in the days of high-wheeled bicycles (a.k.a. "penny farthings"), "headers" were a fairly common occurrence. And, since cyclists in those days commonly rode front wheels of 60 inches (about 1.75 meters) or more, the impact from such a fall must have been even greater.  

Some would use the fact that people survived such falls as an argument against helmet-wearing.  That's a valid argument, as far as it goes.  However, there is also this to consider:  In those days, no one seemed to know much about concussions, let alone their long-term effects.

So...Yes, I will continue to wear a helmet as I cycle in autumn--and be grateful I haven't taken a "header".  At least not yet.

Getting On My High Wheel

Has anybody out there ridden a high-wheeler (or, as they were called in England, "penny-farthing")?  Every once in a while, I think I'd like to ride one.  


Of course, there's one logistical problem:  finding such a bike.  And then I'd have to get a pair of bloomers.  I suppose I could ride in a short skirt, but somehow that wouldn't be in the spirit of riding a bike like the one in the photo.