07 July 2012

From The Land Of The Rising Sun To L'Arc de Triomphe

In perhaps no other nation is track racing more closely followed than it is in Japan.  At least, one could easily have such an impression upon seeing how much money is bet on the keirin races and how many people watch them.


Also, more bicycles are equipped with components from Shimano than from any other company.  In fact, Shimano's offerings displaced their Campagnolo counterparts as racers' equipment of choice for much of the 1990's and in the early 2000's.


So, perhaps, one might wonder why so few Japanese cyclists have raced outside of their own country.  I thought about this today, when I watched the sixth stage of the Tour de France on NBC.  One of the commentators (not Phil Liggett) pointed out that two of this year's riders, Yukiya Arashiro and Fumiyuki Beppu, are among only four Japanese racers who have completed the Tour de France in its history, which has spanned more than a century.


Fumiyuki Beppu (l) and Yukiya Arashiro.  From Velo News




Now, to be fair, for a variety of reasons, through most of the Tour's (as well as the Giro d'Italia's,  Vuelta d'Espana's and the Milk Race's) history, nearly all who rode in it came from a handful of countries in western Europe and, to a lesser extent, the British Isles.  In fact, no American rode it until Jonathan (a.k.a. Jacques or Jock) Boyer entered in 1981.  He didn't make it to l'Arc de Triomphe that year, but he finished a more-than-respectable 12th two years later.


Since Boyer competed, the American contingent has become a significant part of the peloton in le Tour as well as other European races.  Also, increasing numbers of riders have come from the former Soviet bloc countries as well as Latin America and Canada.  However, Japanese cyclists have remained conspicuously absent.


Part of the reason for this may be that road racing isn't nearly as strong as keirin racing in Japan.  That almost seems paradoxical in a country where parents often tell their children, "The nail that sticks out is hammered down."  One would think that road racing, in which most riders participate as members of a team, would be more popular than track racing, which tends to be more individually focused.  Then again, non-team sports like sumo wrestling are wildly popular, while sports like soccer have nowhere near the following they enjoy in Europe, Latin America or even in other parts of Asia.


I can think of one reason which might, at least partially, explain the relative lack of popularity of road racing in Japan:  It's a country about the size of California with about four times as many mountains and five times as many people.  In such a place, I imagine, suitable roads for racing are scarce, and if the logistics of devising a course from them are daunting in European countries that have a century-plus history of racing, things must be even more difficult in Japan.


On the other hand, the Japanese are noted for overcoming difficulties.  For that reason alone, they may become even more of a presence in international racing in the future.  Perhaps Toshiba, Panasonic, Shimano and other Japanese companies will sponsor teams that will carry the Rising Sun around l'Arc de Triomphe.





06 July 2012

Why Aren't You Riding In The Bike Lane?





The other day, I was riding along 21st Avenue in East Elmhurst.  A driver made a careless turn in front of me.  I yelled a few things not allowed in PG-rated movies and flashed the one-fingered peace sign.


The driver--a woman a few years younger than me--rolled down her window.  "You shouldn't be riding here," she yelled.  "You should be on the bike lane."


"There's none here," I shouted.

"Well, there's one on 20th Avenue."




"But it won't take me to where I'm going."


"You still should use it."



"Would you drive along a street that doesn't take you where you want to go?"


She then started to lecture me about how riding on a bike lane is safer than riding on a street.  Mustering all of the patience I could gather within myself, I explained that bike lanes can be more dangerous than the streets for cyclists.   "Some drivers seem to think the bike lanes are for passing or double-parking."  


Her eyes widened.  "I don't do those things!"



"I wasn't accusing you. I said some drivers do them. "  I was about to tell her that I have been "doored" twice, and on both occasions I was riding in a bike lane.  But she had to go somewhere, so that debate didn't come to pass.



Afterward, it occured to me that her misconceptions about bicycle safety are considered "common knowledge" and guide the decisions of too many urban planners.  That is the reason why so many bike lanes are poorly-conceived and -constructed, and people like the driver I confronted simply cannot understand why we don' t use them. 

05 July 2012

A Softshot Slingride

Today I saw someone riding a bike I hadn't seen in a long time.  Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me and I couldn't get my cell phone out of my bag quickly enough.  Fortunately, it was easy enough to find a photo of it on the web:






Production of Softride bicycles seems to have begun during the late 1980's.  Apparently, they're still being made.  Although I haven't seen one on the road recently, I understand they're still popular with triathaloners. 


Softride bicycles appeared around the same time that Rock Shox forks first came onto the market, and other then-radical bicycle designs were being developed. 


Nearly all other bikes with suspension are designed to suspend the bike.  This makes sense when you realize that modern suspension systems were first developed mainly for mountain bikes.  Someone who's hopping over creeks or "jumping" from a rock face doesn't expect to be comfortable upon landing.  However, he or she wants the bike to remain as stable as possible, as this is the best way to keep the bike moving forward and prevent an accident.  


At least, I came to that conclusion from my own experiences of off-road riding. 


On the other hand, according to the designers of Softride, their stated goal was to "suspend the rider, not the bike."  Now, I'll admit that my time on a Softride was very limited and I thought it was uncomfortably bouncy.  However, other riders seemed to master it, or simply became accustomed to the sensation.  If they did, I can see why some liked it:  The shocks incurred on the road aren't nearly as great as one experiences in the woods and mountains.  Plus, road riders tend to spend more time and ride longer distances on their bikes.  So some might like a cushier bike. And, I suppose triathaloners might like the comfort of such a bike because they have to switch, sometimes abruptly, from the swimming or running segment to the cycling part of the race.


Around the same time Softride bikes made their appearance, an old riding buddy took to both the roads on a bike like this one:







This was yet another approach to suspension.  My old riding buddy, an engineering school dropout, once explained the principle behind it for me. I've since forgotten how it's supposed to work--or maybe I never understood it in the first place.  But he swore by Slingshots:  He had a mountain as well as a road version. 



I rode his bikes a few times.  While I wasn't entirely convinced by them, they made more sense to me than Softrides ever did.  


It's been at least a dozen years since I've ridden a Slingshot (or, for that matter, a Softride).  So, please forgive me if my memory is faulty and my description of the ride is less-than-detailed.  

People who have driven the Citroen GS or its descendants remark upon the fluid tautness of its suspension.  I have only ridden in such a car, but I could feel the difference between it and the "springier" suspension of American cars. The Slingshot's suspension felt something like the hydropneumatic system of a Citroen, on steroids.  



I might actually buy a Slingshot if I were going to have a barn full of bikes. (They're still being made, as they were back in the '90's, in Grand Rapids, Michigan.) But being limited to four bikes (still more than most people have, I know!), I am leery about paying full price for such a radical bike.


If I were a collector, I'd probably have at least one Slingshot and a Softride.  What I'd really like, though, is for Slingshot and Softride to collaborate on a mixte frame!