Covering Up, In Leather

If you shop at Velo Orange, as I do, you've seen their stitched-on elkhide handlebar covers.  They're offered in lengths for dropped as well as upright bars.  

Velo Orange stitched-on bar covers

Chris at Velo Orange insists they're wide enough to fit around both the bar and cable.  You would need that with if you're using aero or inverse brake levers.

I believe him, but I decided against installing those covers because when I have to replace my cables, I'd have to unstitch the covers.  Knowing myself, I'd probably break the thread or do something that would make it impossible to re-install the covers.

However, back in the day, I did have stitched-on grips at various times on a couple of bikes.  Of course, in those days, I also wasn't riding aero levers and inverse levers were all but unavailable.  That meant riding "traditional" levers, with exposed cable housings. To replace them, it wasn't necessary to remove the tape or coverings from the handlebar.

As I recall, two companies made stitched-on bar covers:  Cannondale and Rhode Gear, both of which still did all of their manufacturing in the US.  For all I know, both companies' handlebar covers may have been made in the same factory and were simply marketed by one company or the other.  I say that because I used both and don't remember any difference, except perhaps in the choice of available colors, between them.  

Rhode Gear stitched-on handlebar covers, red, circa 1985

Anyway, it was interesting to see a red Rhode Gear set on eBay. It was maybe a shade lighter than oxblood, a color I've always loved on leather. (I once had a jacket and a pair of penny loafers in that shade.) I installed the covers on my Trek 930 after I tore up a few other tapes, and they lasted until I sold the bike.  More important (!), they looked great on the bike, which was black.  Actually, before I sold the bike, I spent I-don't-know-how-long unstitching the covers, which I replaced with Benotto or some other cheap tape.  The pretty red handlebar covers went went to my Cannondale (Don't tell anybody!) race bike.

Of course, even if I were going to install stitched-on leather covers, I wouldn't buy those old ones, as much as I like the color.  I've already mentioned one reason:  cable replacement.  On a related issue, I'm not sure that a 30+-year-old leather cover would fit around a bar and cable.  And, finally, if old leather hasn't been stored or cared-for properly, it will disintegrate with use.  

That is, if I were actually going to ride the bike. Now if I wanted to build a "time capsule" bike, circa 1985, I just might consider those grips.  Then again, would I want to pay $120 when VO sells theirs for $35?

Getting Rid Of The Clip

Yesterday, in my post about Lyotard pedals, I mentioned the one and only clipless offering in the company's seven-decade history:  the PL 2000.

That got me to think about some of the other clipless pedal systems that have come and gone.  Some, like the PL 2000, were belated attempts to compete with Look and Time, the first widely-accepted clipless systems.  But a few others predated Look's original 1984 offering.

The original Cinelli M-71, introduced in 1970.

One that is fairly well-known, at least among cyclists of a certain age, is the Cinelli M71, a.k.a., "the suicide pedals".  I never tried them myself, but from what I've heard, they had very strong springs and held the rider's foot securely.  The problem is that, like that boyfriend or girlfriend from Hell, they didn't want to let go.  At least, they didn't make it easy to take your feet off them:  You had to reach down and flick a lever to disengage your cleat from the pedal platform.  So, while I don't doubt the quality of the product (I don't think Cino Cinelli could have made junk if he tried!), it wasn't--to use a phrase that wouldn't be current until two decades later--user-friendly. 

Second-generation M71, 1972

The first version of the M71, introduced in 1970, had a steel platform and used an aluminum cleat.  Two years later, the pedal came with an aluminum alloy platform with a big round hole in the middle, and plastic replaced aluminum in the cleat.

Contak, 1973

The year after the second version of the M71, another short-lived clipless design went into production in Italy:  the Contak. 


The name is certainly apt:  It had a much larger platform than the M71--or, for that matter, most subsequent clipless pedals.  The longer and wider contact area probably made it more comfortable than the M71, the PL 2000 or some other clipless pedal.  But, like the M71, it wasn't easy to use:  The cleat was made to slide into the pedal from the side, and was held in by a ball detent.  To exit, the rider slid the cleat outward.

Having never used one, or known anyone who did, I don't know how securely this system held, or how easily it released, the cleat.  But I would imagine that a gain in one of those qualities meant a sacrifice in the other.

Keywin, 1983

 For a decade after the Contak's introduction, there was little or no effort to create new clipless pedal systems.  One of the most notable was the Keywin, which hailed from New Zealand a year before Look's introduction.  Instead of the spring-loaded systems used by Cinelli and Look, or the ball-detent of the Contak, Keywin employed a bayonet-type locking device similar to the type found on many cameras with interchangeable lenses.  The rider, after placing his or her foot on the pedal, twisted inward to engage the lock and outward to disengage it.  A rider exits a Look pedal in the same way, but simply steps into it to engage the cleat.

Early Look pedal (PP-65), 1984

 While Look was clearly an improvement over previous clipless systems, some cyclists complained about the weight:  The first Looks weighed over 500 grams (about 1 pound and 2 ounces) per pair. Two designs seemed, in part, an attempt to reduce the weight and make a mehanically simpler system.

Elger, 1984

 During the year of Look's debut, there was a West German entry:  the Elger, which was like the PL 2000 without the spring-loaded end.  As with the Keywin, the rider locked into the pedal by twisting the foot inward and unhitched by twisting outward. 

Aerolite, 1986

Two years after Look and Elger, an American design--Aerolite--dispensed with anything at all on the outward end of the axle.  It may still be the lightest clipless system ever produced.  It offered one convenient feature of Look:  One had only to step down on the pedal to enter.  But, I imagine that to use it, one had to have a better aim than one needed for Look.  Once engaged, the cleat clasped rather than locked into the pedal.  And, to disengage, the rider tilted his or her foot.

NaturaLimits, 1980

Perhaps one of the most interesting early attempts to create a clipless pedal wasn't a pedal at all. Rather, an enterprising American introduced NaturaLimits, a system that included cleats and an adapter that attached to the body of a Campagnolo-style quill or track pedal.  I remember seeing ads for it in cycling magazines of the time--circa 1980--but never actually saw one in person.  

I wonder whether the system didn't catch on because it wasn't reliable or easy to use--or whether the cycling public simply wasn't yet ready to take another look at clipless systems after the shortcomings of the M71 and Contak. 

You've Probably Used Them, But Nobody Talks (Or Writes) About Them: Lyotard Pedals

If you have been cycling for a while, chances are that you've ridden at least one pair of Lyotard pedals.  Perhaps you still are.



All Peugeots, and most other French bikes that weren't equipped with Campagnolo components, came with one Lyotard model or another as standard equipment.  Even a few Campy-equipped bikes had Lyotard pedals--at least, one particular model I'll mention in a minute.

Lyotards were also found on bikes from other countries---yes, even a few from Japan, which probably has had more pedal-makers than any other nation.  There is a good reason why Lyotards were so common:  They offered a wide range of intelligently-designed products, and they offered good quality at a reasonable price.
 

No. 460

The three most popular models were probably the Nos. 460, 136R and 23.

No. 460 en bleu

No. 460 was an alloy double-sided, sawtoothed "rat trap" pedal popular with Cyclo-Cross riders, cyclo-tourists and bicycle commuters. They were usually silver, but for a time were offered with blue, red or black anodizing.  The 136 was a less-expensive steel pedal with curvy plates that often had reflectors built into them. It was standard equipment for many years on the Peugeot U0-8, Motobecane's Nobly and Mirage, and other lower-priced French machines popular during the '70's Bike Boom.

No.136R

 
But Lyotard's most iconic product was probably the No. 23, also known as the Marcel Berthet pedal.  You've probably seen the 23, if you haven't used it yourself:  It's the one with the flat platform and the "tongue" that makes toe clip entry easier.  It's the pedal that inspired the MKS GR-9, GR-10 and Urban Platform pedals, as well as White Industries' amazing Urban Platform pedals.

No. 23, a.k.a. Marcel Berthet

It's no surprise, really, that the 23 would inspire other pedals:  It is among the most elegant pieces of cycling equipment ever made.  And, oh yes, it's comfortable and is still a relatively light pedal, especially for one constructed entirely from steel. For those reasons, and for its cornering clearance, it was sometimes found on otherwise all-Campagnolo bikes.

No. 45

Lyotard started to make pedals in 1921 and continued until 1992 or thereabouts.  The qualities I've mentioned--good value for the money and a wide range--are probably what kept the company in business for seven decades.  However, they, like many other French component makers (such as Simplex), failed to innovate or even update their lineup.  Cheaper Asian imports took away much of the market share the 136--and, to a lesser extent, the 460-- held.  The Berthet/No.23 was seen as a "cult" item, and the development of easy-to-use clipless pedals from Look and Time all but ended the demand for high-quality traditional pedals, which included the No. 45: the pedal that came with the Peugeot PX-10.

PL 2000

Lyotard finally came out with a clipless pedal, the PL 2000, in 1989, half a decade after Look first came to market.  I don't know anyone who actually used the PL 2000, but the design looks interesting.  Essentially, the pedal is really just an axle with a spring-loaded cap on the end opposite the pedal threads.  The cleat had a groove into which the axle fit when the rider "clipped in"; the spring-loaded cap held the rider's foot onto the pedal.  The rider would slide her or his foot outward to push the spring-loaded cap aside and disengage her or his foot from the pedal.

For all I know, it may have worked very well.  And, if nothing else, it was probably a very light weight pedal.  But I have to wonder how (un)comfortable it was:  Look and Time pedals at least have something resembling platforms that provide more surface contact area.

Also, Lyotard's cleat was proprietary.  You couldn't mount it on a shoe drilled for Look or other cleats that were using Look's three-bolt mounting system, which quickly became the standard for road clipless pedals.

Even if Lyotard's system had caught on, it might not have been enough to save a company with one of the longest histories in cycling.  But at least its legacy lives on in some pedals produced today:  the Berthet/No.23 has directly inspired the MKS and White Industries pedals I've mentioned and, perhaps indirectly, almost any pedal designed with aerodynamics (or pretentions thereof) in mind.  Such pedals would include most road clipless pedals. And the MKS Sylvan --very popular with tourists and commuters--echoes, in many ways, the 460.