America Runs On It. But Should We Ride It?

Come on, admit it:  You've stopped at Dunkin' Donuts during at least one of your rides!

(I'll admit to having stopped for all sorts of "munchies" during rides, including maple donuts at Tim Horton's in Montreal, croissants and pain au chocolat at various French bakeries, kaimaki in Greece and various fruit treats in Laos and Cambodia.  And, yes, for Boston Cream or blueberry donuts, or chocolate-dipped French cruellers, at DD!)

The thing is, Dunkin' Donuts knows we exist.  They may know our preferences in comestibles, but not necessarily in machinery.

I came to that conclusion after seeing a photo of DD's new tandem bicycle.

Yes, you read that right.  Dunkin' Donuts is dropping its usual offering of donut-themed holiday gifts, probably because people almost always purchase them on impulse in Dunkin' shops, where there are fewer customers owing to social distancing mandates.  The new tandem bike is available only as an online purchase.

While some might like a frame adorned with the pink-and-orange logo (I have to admit, it is kinda cute!), one has to wonder about the bike itself.  To paraphrase Molly Hurford at Bicycling , American may run on Dunkin', but nobody should ride a Dunkin' bike.

To me, it looks like a "chopper" without the banana seat.  Furthermore, it's offered in only one size--with a road-style configuration both in the front and rear.  Most one-size-fits-all tandems are step-through at least in the rear, if not in the front as well.

Perhaps worst of all, the rear seat is behind the rear wheel, which makes a good saddle position all but impossible for most riders.  Also, the front ("captain's") cockpit is all but impossibly long for a bike its size, and the rear is so short that all but the tiniest riders would have to sit upright.

Dunkin' Donuts website does not give specifications regarding standover height, let alone geometry or componentry.  I'm guessing that while the folks at DD might want us to "run on Dunkin'" they might not expect anyone to actually ride on their bikes.  If anything, the bike is a collector's item for the most fanatical Dunkin' devotee.  As for me, I'll stick to the Boston Cream and  blueberry donuts, and the chocolate-dipped French cruellers.

 

Everything New Is Old Again

Early in this blog's history, I documented using, at the suggestion of my gynecologist, Terry "donut" saddles.  I found that I didn't like them:  They reminded me of the Avocet saddles with the "groove" in the middle, which I tried not long after they came out.  Both saddles had the same effect:  They created pressure points, and discomfort, around my genitals--even though my genitals were not the same when I rode the Terry as they were when I rode the Avocet.

After the Terry experiment, I went back to Brooks saddles and have had no problems.  That may have something to with my post-surgery genitals healing and developing:  Although the area around them is more tender than it was in my days as a male, it's not quite as delicate as it was in the days just after my surgery.

Brooks has been making stretched leather saddles for nearly a century and a half.  Over the past decade or so, other companies have begun to make similar saddles.  At least even the most casual cyclist knows that those companies are appropriating and,in some cases, tweaking an old technology.  

The same was not true when Avocet first came out with its "grooved" or "double hump" saddles in 1977 or when Terry came out with its "donut" seats in 1994--or, for that matter, when AnAtomica started cutting out the middle sections of Brooks saddles in 2005 (or when Brooks began to sell its "Imperial" saddles in 2008. Every one of those ideas had been tried before.  Those companies marketed those saddles--and the public believed they were--innovations. 

Take a look at this Garford ladies' padded saddle from 1895:

Or this one, introduced five years earlier:

 


Yes, that is the original "Imperial" saddle, in the Brooks 1890 catalogue.