Do Bikes Cause Bike Thieves To Steal?

Whatever your politics, whatever your religious beliefs (or lack thereof), whatever your situation in life--if you are reading this blog, there is one kind of person whom you find irksome, loathsome or something in between.

That kind of person is a bicycle thief.  If you've been riding long enough in the US or in any number of other places, chances are you've lost a bike to someone who didn't ask or pay for it.  And, I'll bet that even if you oppose capital punishment or anything "cruel and unusual", you've thought of ways to "teach a lesson" to whoever took your treasured two-wheeler.

I must admit: One of the things of which I'm proudest is having stopped a bicycle theft.   Actually, I wasn't so much proud as I was gleeful, almost giddy, to see the expression on the would-be thief's face when I tapped him on the shoulder as he was trying to break the lock on a parked bike.

That day, I stopped someone else's bike from being stolen.  But a couple of times in my life, I couldn't do the same for my own bike.  Perhaps those experiences are the reason why I feel a more visceral kind of anger toward bike thieves than I feel toward others who have committed more "serious" crimes.  I hope that the ones who took my bikes--and the one who tried to take someone else's bike until I stopped him-- had some terrible fate befall them.  Maybe they got chewed up between an inch-pitch chain and sprocket!

All right, I'll stop with the fantasies of torture and dismemberment.  But I'll pose this question to you:  What is a good penalty to impose on a bike thief?

I got to thinking about that question upon learning about John Liddicoat.  The homeless 47-year-old Englishman has 48 convictions for 142 offenses, many of which include bike thefts.  In his most recent incident, he targeted the garage of a house in the Devonshire community of Plymouth. 

In his latest hearing, Judge Ian Lawrie said "You have an appalling record, you are incapable of behaving yourself and you have not learnt your lesson" in handing down Liddicoat's sentence:  a lifetime ban from bicycling.

Yes, you read that last phrase right.  Liddicoat is not allowed to ride a bicycle again, ever.  In fact, he is not allowed within four meters (about 13 feet) of a bicycle--or to enter the campus of any college or school, the places where he committed most of his thefts.

Would you let him within four meters of your bike?

Now, you are probably wondering:  a.) How will the ban be enforced?, and b.) Will it actually stop his criminal behavior?

I couldn't find any answer to a).  Has Apple or some other company been commissioned to make a wrist or ankle bracelet that can detect bikes within his sphere?  Or will bobbies be deployed to watch his every move? 

As for question b.), I think most of you would agree that the answer is most likely "no".  You probably came up with that answer even if you didn't know that he has battled heroin addiction though basically all of his adult life and that he'd just spent three and a half years in jail for his latest stealing spree.

In his most recent burglary of the garage, he also took 20 bottles of wine the homeowner had been saving for Christmas.   Hmm...Will he be banned from being around bottles of Bordeaux?   Is there any way of preventing him from pilfering Port?

 

Playing Chicken--In Reverse--With The Rain

In other posts in this and my other blog, I've written about "playing chicken with the rain".   It's one of my guilty pleasures:  I go out for a ride when the sky looks absolutely pregnant with precipitation and keep on riding, all of the while daring the sky open up on me.  The best such rides are the ones in which I pull up to my house (or wherever I'm going) just as the first couple of drops touch my skin:  I feel as if I'd gotten away with something.

I was playing a kind of "reverse chicken" during this morning's commute.  It rained last night, heavily as I slept and a little lighter as I was getting ready to go to work.  As I hopped on my bike, a few drops plipped against my helmet; by the time I got to the RFK Memorial-Triborough Bridge (a little more than a kilometer from my apartment), the rain had stopped and the sun was starting to break through the clouds.

By the time I got to work, what little rain had fallen on me had dried up.  I looked no different than I would have had I ridden under clear skies during my entire commute; none of my co-workers asked, with astonishment, whether I had actually ridden "in this weather".  I was smiling or grinning, I'm not sure of which, and they might have wondered what I was smiling or grinning about.  I'll let them think what they will (I love them. I really do!); I am content to start my day feeling as if I'd gotten away with something, like a kid who made off with the box of cookies! 

 

Into The Fold: A Bike For The French Army

I recall reading or hearing that Peugeot invented the folding bike.   Of course, I am skeptical about that, just as I am skeptical about any other claim of inventorship unless there is solid documentation.  To be fair, though, I must say that, if I recall correctly, Peugeot has never made any claim to having invented the folding bike, although they probably were one of the first bike-makers to mass-market them.

Peugeot did, however, enter into a consortium with Michelin and the French army to buy the patents of an early folding bike, which appeared in the Peugeot sales catalogue of 1899.  

Gerard Morel folding bike prototype, 1892

That bike had its origins in 1892 when Charles Morel, a wealthy French industrialist, fell under the spell of the then-current bike craze and built a prototype of a folding bicycle. Around the same time, a French army lieutenant named Henry Gerard envisioned the military usage of a folding bike and in June of 1893 filed a patent for one he created.

Drawing for English patent issued to Charles Morel and Henry Gerard, 1896

Lt. Gerard's design was, however, deeply flawed and didn't work very well.  While looking for help in fixing the design flaws, he was introduced to Morel, who showed his prototype bike to Gerard.  Morel suggested a meeting between one of his mechanics, named Dulac, and Gerard to come up with a working design.  That meeting was successful and on 5 October 1894, Monsieur Morel and Lieutenant Gerard entered into an agreement to manufacture the bikes. 

Illustration from Revue Militare Suisse, 1897

Production of the bike began the following April. In October, a retail store for the bikes opened in Paris.  Gerard got the job of selling the bike to the military, and he supplied 25 test bikes to the French army.  The experiment was successful; the army bought more bikes and Gerard was put in charge of a bike-equipped regiment.  Soon, he was promoted to captain, largely on the basis of his success with the regiment.  In the meantime, the Russian and Rumanian armies placed orders for the bikes.

Because of his stature as a military commander, Gerard became the public face of the folding bike venture and the bikes came to be known as "Captain Gerard folding bikes".  Apparently, he forgot that Morel had the initial idea for the folding bike and wholly financed the venture and started to believe, as many people believed, that he invented the bike himself.

So, Captain Gerard sued Monsieur Morel for what he believed to be his "fair share" of the profits.  Not surprisingly, that led to a falling-out between the two men and a dissolution of their partnership.  That is when Peugeot and Michelin came into the picture.

Peugeot folding bike, 1970s

During the 1970's Bike Boom, many Americans saw (and a few bought) folding bikes for the first time.  Most Americans' introduction to folding bikes came from the Peugeot model that came with fenders, rack and generator lighting--very French!--and the Raleigh Twenty.  Since then, there have been any number of designs (and improvements) from Brompton as well as other manufacturers and custom builders.

Raleigh Twenty, 1970's

Now, as to who "invented" the folding bike:  The answer depends on how you define "folding" and who and what you believe.  Do "break-away" or "separable" bikes count?  Whether or not you count such bikes, or others that are portable in one way or another, you still have to consider that many claims by many inventors in a number of countries were made.  Most can't be documented in a convincing manner, whether because the documents were lost or they were never created or filed in the first place. 

Whoever deserves credit for creating whatever you consider to be the first folding bike, it's not hard to believe that the idea isn't nearly as old as that of the bicycle itself.