Rumors Of The Mechanical Bicycle's Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated For 120 Years

Not to know what happened before you were born is to remain forever a child.

So said Cicero in 46 B.C.E.  Almost two millenia later, George Santayana wrote, "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

You don't have to be a graduate student in history to understand how true both statements are.  Having spent a decade or two or three as a cyclist or in the bicycle business will teach you that.

I think of Cicero's and Santayana's pearls of wisdom whenever I hear or read about how electic bikes, or e-bikes, are going to turn pedal-powered bicycles into museum specimens.  

That notion wasn't propogated for the first time five, ten or even tweny years ago.  Such a prediction was made in 1970, when Sanyo demonstrated its first electric bike at that year's Expo (a.k.a. World's Fair) in Osaka.

Even that wasn't the first time someone predicted that two wheels powered by two pedals would not survive the shock of electric bikes bursting onto the scene.  The same prognostication was made a century ago, in 1911, when bicycles with electric motors first became commercially available seven years after Popular Mechanics reported that an electric motor could be fitted to a bike.





But predictions that attaching a motor to a bike would turn human-powered vehicles into roadkill go back even further.  Check out an excerpt from a December 1896 Cycling Life editorial:


“Have horseless carriages come to stay? They are still curiosities and only curiosities, although a few limited purposes they may soon be suffienctly practicable. Perhaps, it illustrates what may be expected that the bicycle was a languishing commodity of trade for many a year before it reached that degree of practicability at which wiseacres commence to ask the question “Has it come to stay?” A similar languishing business may be looked for in motor-cycles for all-around purposes…Dealers in bicycles who have the future in view might do worse than by employing their spare time and energy to familiarising themselves with motor construction. Any suitable widening of the scope of the bicycle business can only contribute to enhance its stability and reduce its risks, and there is little doubt that the motor-cycle business, when it comes, will fall into the hands of those who have trained themselves most specifically for the task of taking care of it.”

Compare that with this slide presented by Hannes Neupert--founder of ExtraEnergy, an electric vehicle lobbying organization based in Germany-- at a Light Electric Vehicle Conference in 2010:



How a man can claim to be a visionary while completely ignoring history is beyond me.  Yes, the guy  who delivers your Chinese food may have ditched his old mountain bike for a new e-bike.  But he probably was not riding a bicycle when he wasn't working and if he ever gets a job in which he didn't have to make deliveries, he'll probably never ride anything with two wheels ever again.  

But when he traded pedals for a lithium-ion batteries, someone else started riding a human-powered bike to his or her job at a school, office, studio or store.  And others are signing up for Bike-A-Thons of one kind or another.  Moreover, the cities in which those delivery people and those new cyclists live and work may have started a bike share program.




The reason is simple:  Aside from having two wheels and one rider, an electric bike really doesn't have much in common with a pedal-powered bicycles.  Their purposes and the ways in which they can be used are completely different for a number of reasons, not the least of which is how many miles per charge (or battery) the electric bike can yield.  For that matter, an e-bike has no more in common with a motorcycle than either has with a pedal-powered bicycle.  

But I'll concede that there is one difference between today's e-bike bandwagon and those of decades past:  Today, the e-bike is touted as a "green" form of transportation.  While it doesn't belch smoke or burn gasoline, it still has, potentially, as much of an environmental impact as a few cell phones or other electronic devices.  For one thing, the electricity used to charge e-bikes has to be generated from something.  Chances are, it's derived from fossil fuels, the very stuff from which, we are warned, we must wean ourselves.

Another reason why e-bikes aren't as green as they seem is that, like many other electronic devices, they use lithium batteries.  Lithium itself is highly flammable and reactive, but that's not the least of the batteries' impact on our planet. The US Environmental Protection Agency has linked the solvents used in the manufacture of lithium batteries to cancer and neurological damage.  Even worse is the cobalt used in manufacturing the batteries:  It's been linked to pulmonary, respiratory and neurological issues.  And, as you might expect, cobalt mining is an assault on the environment.  Like other kinds of mining, it results in soil erosion and silting of water. Perhaps even worse, the tailings that are often dumped into rivers and other bodies of water are often contaminated with mercury and cyanide, which are used in the extraction process.

Almost anything degrades the environment also enables the exploitation of undeveloped countries by developed ones, which in turn leads to a widening in the gap between the rich and the poor (and for those in the middle to be pushed into the latter).  Nearly all of the world's cobalt comes from Africa; most of that from the Democratic Republic of Congo.  While the Congo has laws to protect the environment and rights of workers, they are rarely enforced.  So mining companies based in the industrialized world routinely don't pay workers, who are often children or women captured in tribal conflicts. Miners end up in slavery because they can't pay the debts incurred from the exhorbitant costs their employers charge them for their equipment. And, not surprisigly, sexual violence and substance abuse flourish in such an environment and fuel the spread of HIV/AIDS.

In other words, the mining of cobalt used in the making of lithium batteries is one factor enabling a new kind of colonialism in Africa.

Now, I'm not saying that the manufacture or maintenance of mechanical bicycles is completely pollution- or corruption-free:  No industrial process is; some would argue that no industrial process can be.  But as long as the mechanical bicycle remains the only machine that amplifies human energy without any help from an outside energy source (e.g., electricity or gasoline), it will have its place for commuting and other kinds of utility riding.  And the exhiliaration you feel (along with the exhaustion) of pedaling kilometer after kilometer, up and down hills, with the wind your face or at your back, simply can't be replicated on anything powered by electricity or any other non-human energy source!

Monday Funnies

I know that most bloggers save their "funnies" for Friday or Saturday.  But I imagine that some of you can use a laugh or two on Monday, today.  And the weather has been dismal:  Not enough snow to create a winter wonderland, but enough to turn into a glacier of soot when the temperature drops at night.  And subsequent layers of rain, sleet, snow and freezing rain encase ever-more of this city's detritus in ice.   Hopefully, they won't remain for as long as a beetle found encased in amber.

Anyway, I thought I could pick up your spirits (or, at least, mine) with some photos from the wall of I Love Cycling.

I've outrun an animal or two in my time. But I never had to keep one step (or tire-tread) away from a mad cow:

I imagine the bike needed to be cleaned after that.  Maybe this isn't the best way to go about it:

Nor is this:

After showering, you can change into something more comfortable:

I couldn't help but to think about the joke I played on Stella Buckwalter, who worked in a few NYC bike shops and owned one--Rock'N'Road in Park Slope, Brooklyn.  She had just bought a new bike, on which she installed a pair of SPD pedals.  

I found a pair of stiletto heels in her favorite color, orange, in a thrift shop.  I drilled the soles of those shoes to accept SPD cleats.

Now, of course, she never could have walked, and probably would have had a hard time riding, in those shoes.  They weren't even the right size! (I figured as much when I bought them.)  But, hey, for a dollar, I got more than my money's worth in laughs--both mine and hers.

And like any woman in New York, she complained of never having enough closet space.  I can certainly relate to that!


 

A Steady Chain Of Events In Cycling: From Sedis To SRAM

I'm running SRAM chains on all of my bikes.

That's what I've done for about the past thirty-five years or so.  You might say it's one of my few brand loyalties (along with Mavic rims, Brooks saddles and, yes, Mercian bikes) in cycling.

In a sense, though, my use of SRAM chains isn't a brand loyalty.  You see, when I first started riding with them, SRAM didn't exist.  How's that, you say?

Well, back in the '70's, before Campagnolo, Shimano and SRAM became the main suppliers of quality bicycle components, there were many more independent manufacturers than there are now.  Most of them were relatively small, owned by the families that founded them.  Some, like Brooks and Mavic, survive today, though under the umbrella of larger companies.  However, many--like SunTour and Lyotard, which I mentioned in earlier posts--folded because of mis-steps (SunTour with its indexed shifting system) or simply not updating their products (Lyotard and many other European companies).  Others were bought out by larger companies and saw their venerable names relegated to the tire tracks of history.

One such component-maker was Sedis.  Actually, they made one category of bike parts:  chains.  Nearly all French bikes came with them. They also were common on machines from England and other European countries, as well as Schwinns.  Also, Sedis chains were commonly purchased as replacements, sometimes for chains that hadn't worn out.  I'll explain that in a moment.

Sedis chains were popular mainly for the same reasons as SunTour drive train components and Lyotard pedals:  They worked well and were well-made and reasonably-priced.  Those attributes were most apparent in what might be the most iconic product Sedis ever produced:  the Sedisport chain.

Until Shimano came out with the Uniglide in 1977, nearly all chains had flat side plates.  Shimano designed this chain, with its bulged outer plates, to work with the twisted-tooth sprockets made for their then-new cassette freehubs.  (Until 1985 or so, Shimano also offered thread-on freewheels with twisted-tooth cogs.)  Around the same time, SunTour developed its "Ultra-six" freewheel, which fit six sprockets in the same amount of space as the five rear sprockets that were standard at the time. Sun Tour also marketed a chain, made for them by HKK, with narrower outer plates and pins flush with them. All bike chains up to that time, including the Uniglide, had pins that protruded slightly from the side-plates.

The Uniglide and HKK/SunTour chains shared a problem all Japanese derailleur chains  had in those days:  They stretched and wore very quickly.  And the Uniglide was one of the noisiest chains ever made:  Comparisons were made with Harleys and trucks.

In 1978, Maillard (which would later share Sedis' fate) made its own version of the Ultra-Six freewheel.  The Sedisport was created to work with it.  Originally, the chains were available only in a traditional black finish, but gold and silver versions would become available. 

The Original Sedisport Chain, 1978

The basic black version could be had for about $5-6, the same price as just about any entry-level derailleur chain.  The gold and silver versions were, naturally, a few dollars more.  They were among the greatest bargains in the history of cycle componentry.  

When you took a Sedisport out of its packet (for the black version) or box (gold or silver), it seemed almost floppy, especially to someone accustomed to a Regina Oro chain.  That was a function, not only of its narrower side plates and flush pins, but also of its most revolutionary design features:  slightly flared inner plates (as opposed to the bulged outer plates of the Uniglide) and, most important, its bushing-less pivots.

Those features made the Sedisport both stronger and lighter than any of the other chains I've mentioned.  And, the fact that it had fewer moving parts meant that it didn't need to be cleaned and lubed as often, and didn't jam or develop stiff links.  And, best of all, it shifted even better than any of those other chains--yes, even on SunTour's Ultra-Six or Shimano's Uniglide sprockets.  And on Regina freewheels.

Sedisport with gold finish.

As a result, nearly anybody riding any derailleur-equipped bicycle of anything more than department-store quality had a Sedisport chain.   It's what I rode on my Colnago; I knew other riders who installed it on bikes equipped entirely with Campagnolo Super Record equipment.  Up to that time, the custom was to team up a Regina Oro freewheel and chain with a Record or Super Record gruppo, as Campagnolo did not make freewheels or chains.  But Oros cost about three times as much as Sedisports and didn't last as long or shift as well.  Regina developed its own Ultra Six freewheel (They had a standard six-speed, which was wider than the five-speed) but their quality was slipping.  So, many racers and other performance-oriented riders switched to SunTour Winner freewheels along with Sedisport chains even as they continued to ride with Campagnolo cranks and derailleurs.

Every new model of derailleur chain made since the Sedisport--whether for seven, eight, nine, ten or eleven speeds--has been made without bushings, and with curved or flared inner plates and pins that are flush with the outer plates.  Among those modern chains are today's SRAM chains.

That last fact makes perfect sense when you realize that SRAM chains are Sedis chains.   In the early 1980s, Sedis's bicycle chain division, along with Maillard (which made freewheels, hubs and pedals bearing the Normandy and Atom as well as Maillard brands) and Huret were purchased by Sachs, a German maker of coaster brakes, multigear hubs and components for mopeds and motorbikes.  Through most of the 1980's, the chains were sold under the Sachs/Sedis marque.  Then, in 1996, Sachs became part of the SRAM group.  In the beginning, SRAM components were made in the original French factories that produced Sedis, Maillard and Huret stuff.  But in the early 2000s, most production shifted to Taiwan.  However, SRAM chains have been made in Portugal.  

Through all of these changes, SRAM chains retained the qualities that got me (and so many other people) to ride Sedis chains so many years ago.  I've tried Shimano (as well as other chains) on my Shimano cassettes and Rohloff as well as Wipperman chains on Campy stuff.  SRAM chains always worked better and lasted longer--and were usually less expensive to boot.

Interestingly, the Sedis name survived the buyouts. It currently manufactures chains for industrial purposes in Troyes, where Lancelot was born, if you will.   They first started making chains in 1895, when they were part of Peugeot. (Most people outside the Francophone world don't realize that Peugeot is a large, 200-year-old, industrial company that makes everything from peppermills to trucks.)  At that time, Peugeot manufactured in Isere.  In 1946, the chain division merged with two other chain manufacturers, Societe Verjoux of the Doubs region and Societe des Chains Darbilly in the Seine region.  The name SEDIS is an acronym of SEine, Doubs and ISere.  They continue to use the logo familiar to so many of us.