Two Speeds, Two Chains

 Most of you, I suspect, ride or have ridden a bike with two chainrings.  I would imagine, however, that none of you have ridden a bicycle with two chains that isn’t a tandem.

Some folks are about to have that experience. They’re not Grand Tour riders or triathletes; none (as far as I know, anyway) plan on embarking upon a cross-country or round-the-world tour.

Rather, they are folks who use their bicycles as taxis, pickup trucks and cargo vans. I encountered such riders in Cambodia and Laos and even rode bicycles like the ones they use.  Those bikes, however, didn’t have the unique feature I mentioned at the beginning of this post.

So why, you ask, are some people about to ride a bike with two chains? And, where are they?

I’ll answer the second question first:  Africa.  I’ve never been there, but I imagine that parts of it are like the Southeast Asian countryside I saw:  unpaved roads and paths with few, if any bike shops.  And the shops that exist can’t order a part you need for your SRAM Red 13 speed shifter and have it delivered by Fed Ex the next day.

In such an environment, a bike that would need such a part would be all but useless.  And it would be worse than impractical for hauling a 15 liter metal jug of milk from farm to village.

World Bicycle Relief has been working to address people’s needs in rural Africa and other parts of the world.  It developed the Buffalo bicycle: a “tank” with wide tires, steel rims and a coaster brake. This was believed to be the bike with lowest possible maintenance. Also, because the bike has a coaster brake, it can be ridden with wheels that are significantly out-of true.  Oh, and it has a rear rack that can support up to 200 pounds.

As you can imagine, the bike is heavy. But its users didn’t mind:  Reliability is more important to them. That weight, however, combined with its coaster brake hub—which has only one gear—meant that most people couldn’t ride it up a hill, especially if it was loaded.

A new version of the Buffalo bike is designed to deal with that problem.  So why two chains?, you might ask.

Well, each chain runs on one of the two chainwheels—and one of the two sprockets on the rear.  Those sprockets are part of a freewheel that looks like a wider version of the ones found on BMX bikes. One chain wraps around the smaller sprocket and chainwheel while the other winds around the larger sprocket and chainring.

This arrangement results in a two-speed bike without a derailleur, internally-geared hub or coaster brake. So how does the bike “shift?”

Well, the freewheel contains a mechanism that disengages one gear while the other is being used. So, if you are pedaling in one gear, the chain still spins on the other.  And the “shift” is made by pedaling backwards, just as you would on a coaster brake.

Achieving that, of course, meant giving up that coaster brake.  Instead, a pair of dual pivot brakes binds on robust alloy rims to stop or slow down. As the developers explain, some strength may be sacrificed but, apparently, there’s still enough to support a 200 pound load in addition to the rider. And it’s also easier to true an alloy rim.

Oh, and everything on the bike—including the freewheel mechanism—can be fixed with a tool that looks like an oversized version of the old Raleigh spanner—or an adjustable wrench.

I, for one, would be interested to try such a bike, if for no other reason than to experience the two-speed, two-chain system.  And I am always happy when a practical bike—whatever that means for a particular place or kind of user—is designed.

He Kept A Community's Wheels Turning

I love a beautiful bicycle as much as anybody does.  All you have to do is look at Dee-Lilah or Zebbie, my Mercian Vincitore Special and King of Mercia, to see how I care  about fine workmanship and finishes.  At the same time, I appreciate and respect the technological refinement of modern bikes and components.  I avail myself to as much of it as I find useful--and affordable.

But I also understand that what if the current bike boom, fueled by COVID, is to continue, it won't be on the wheels of bikes sold in boutique shops for more than workers in the developing world make in a couple of years.  Wherever the bicycle is seen as an integral part of the transportation network, let alone as a way of life, people are riding utilitarian machines (think of Dutch city bikes) to work or school, or bikes that are sportier, if not much pricier, to the park, seashore or market.  And, in such places, bike shops and mechanics concentrate on keeping those commuters and recreational cyclists on the road (or getting them there in the first place).  They don't spend much, if any, time working on the electronic shifting systems of $12,000 bikes.

In other words, those mechanics are like Joe Haskins who work in shops like the one that bears his name.  He bought it from its founder, his aging uncle, in 1958, when the shop was still known as Tampa Cycle--and he was 17 years old.

Joe Haskins.  Photo by Kelly Benjamin

He never left, literally and figuratively.  Over the years, the shop moved to several different locales, all within the same area of Tampa--and, most important of all, serving the same sort of clientele:  basically, anyone who needed a bike or repair.  Sometimes his services had nothing to do with bikes or cycling:  Former Tampa Bay Times reporter Alan Snel (who writes the Bicycle Stories blog) noted, "every mayor has their downtown pet projects, but the essence of a city is the neighborhoods and small businesses like Joe's bike shop that help everyday residents with everyday issues."

So, when the driving force/guiding spirit of such a business retires or passes away, as Joe did last Saturday, it leaves a hole in the community.  But it seems that the shop will continue:  During the past few years, as Joe's health declined, family members stepped in to keep the shop's unwritten mission alive.

Tampa's All Love Bike Crew will honor his memory with a ride on Sunday.  Somehow I don't think that many Crew members will be riding $12,000 bikes or $300 helmets. 

Build, Ride And Show

All right.  Because you've all been such good readers, and I've been to a bike show, I'm going to treat you to some "bike porn."  However, I'm going to show you some important but not-so-flashy stuff first.

In an earlier post, I started to talk about some of the ways in which this year's New Amsterdam Bike Show was different from shows I attended in days gone by.  I mentioned the emphasis on utilitarian bikes.  As much as I love to ride for sport and recreation, I'm glad that some bikemakers are actually seeing, and selling, their wares as alternatives to cars.

In that regard, the bikes that impressed me the most are those from Yuba Bicycles.  They're probably the nearest two-wheeled equivalent to pickup trucks and vans.  The bikes are actually equipped with a "flatbed" in the rear.  Onto it one can attach seats, oversized panniers and even shelves. I've been told that these bicycles have been used to move the entire contents of apartments and houses, not to mention surfboards, stereo systems and such.

Yuba bikes must be seen to be believed.  These bikes are not for anyone who has even the slightest pretense of being a racer.  The wheelbase of a Yuba is nearly four times as long as that of Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear bike! 

The spiritual grandparent, if you will, of Yuba might be Worksman Cycles, who still make their machines in Ozone Park, Queens--just a few miles from my apartment.  I've mentioned Worksman in a previous post, and meeting Bruce Weinreb, the company's Director for Custom Programs and Special Markets,only deepened my respect for their products, and for the company itself.  Their industrial bikes are used all over the world, and countless pizzas have been delivered on their bikes.  They can be great alternatives to cars and trucks, if for no other reason than they usually outlast, often by decades, their gas-guzzling counterparts.

They also make tricycles.  I see at least a couple every time I go to Florida.  However, they're not only for those who can no longer (or never could) ride two wheels:  The space between the two rear wheels is all but ideal for baskets, bags and other ways of hauling cargo.  They also make a Special Edition:  the model you see in the photo.  Ten percent of the purchase price of each of those bicycles is donated to the Wounded Warrior Project.

Gazelle, which has long been noted for its city bikes with internally-geared hubs, is also making a bike out of recycled materials.  A lighting system is built into the bike:  The headlight is found where a head badge would normally be installed, and the tail light is under the seat.  Both are solar-powered, and are said to store more power--and use it more efficiently--than earlier solar-powered bicycle lights.

Another utility bike I saw at the show has a lineage almost as long as that of Worksman or Gazelle bicycles.  Actually, I first encountered it two nights before the show, in Tribeca's Adeline!  Adeline!, where I attended a party intended to launch Bobbin, a British maker of city and transport bikes, in the USA.   

At first glance, most people would think it's a folding bike or, if they're more knowledgeable about bikes, a replica of an early Moulton. However, there's no way to fold the bike, and about the only thing this bike has in common with the Moulton is its small wheel size.  It's what's known in Albion as a "shopper."  People ride them to marketplaces because their low profile makes them easy to mount and dismount when they're loaded, and easy to maneuver through the narrow aisles and crowds of people in marketplaces.  

All right, now that you've stayed with this post, I'm going to deliver on what I promised.  First off is a Horse track bicycle.  Check out the lugwork and paint:

 Here's one of their touring bikes:

And how can you not love a trussed frame like this one from Benjamin Cycles?: 

  
 Benjamin and Horse are both based in Brooklyn, NY.  Could we see the day when a model called "Greenpoint" or "Bensonhurst" has the same cachet as one called "l'Alpe d'Huez" or "Stelvio"?