These Bikes Could Emancipate Them, Too.

Yesterday was International Women's Day.  I'll repeat one of her most famous quotes:  "Let me tell you what I think of bicycling.  I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world."

Now I'll tell you what I think. Bicycling can do more to emancipate people than almost anything I can think of. People who use their feet to spin bike pedals rather than to pump gas pedals can free themselves from the costs--financial, physical and mental-health-wise and environmental--of excessive automobile dependency.

Also, I feel that cycling can change a person's outlook in other ways.  Though there's always that group of cyclists who's obsessed with having the newest and latest gear (I was once one of them!), I find that cyclists are, on the whole, more conscious of how and what they consume and less status-conscious than other people.  And, I like to believe, we are more socially conscious.

At least, we try to be. Like all people, we have our blind spots, individually and as a community.  One of those areas, I believe, is people with disabilities.  Sure, we can volunteer to take blind or deaf people on tandem rides or lead rides for those who have mild- to- moderate cognitive disabilities. (I am using terminology as I understand it.  If you are a professional in those areas, or simply more knowledgable than I am, please feel free to point out any inaccuracies.)  But, on the whole, cycling isn't very accessible to those who have impairments of one kind or another.

Among them are a group of people that, I blush to admit, I very rarely think about:  those who live with dwarfism. (I only recently learned that some consider it derogatory to call such people "dwarves."  Every now and again, a person with dwarfism will try a kid's bike and find it very unsatisfying.  I can't blame them:  Most kids' bikes aren't made to be responsive and, frankly, too often look cartoonish.  

Another, more important, reason why child-sized bikes don't work for adults with dwarfism is that they aren't built like children or scaled-down versions of average-sized adults.  For example, people with disproportionate dwarfism, or achondroplasia, have torsos similar in size to people without the condition, but shorter arms and legs.  So, while a child-sized bike might provide them with the proper seat height, if they ride it, they will be as cramped as if they were stuffed into a car trunk.

Designing a bike for a person with dwarfism is therefore difficult because, "You can't just lop bits off," says Steve Scott of  the Dwarf Sports Association.  That is what his father did for him mainly because there weren't any better alternatives.  His father motivated him to stay in the sport, but too many other people with dwarfism abandon it or never take it up in the first place because of the difficulties in getting bikes to fit, among other things.

Islabike Joni24

So Scott collaborated with Islabikes of the UK.  After several years of work, they've come up with the Joni 20 and 24 for adults and the Cnoc 14 and 16 for kids.  The numbers in each model name refer to the tire size, and the frames are proportionately sized.  The Joni is a 7-speed with a SRAM rear derailleur and trigger shifter; the Cnoc is a single-speed (freewheel) with a fully-enclosed chainguard.  In addition to their specially-designed frames, both bikes also have brake "micro levers" as well as cranks specially made in shorter lengths.

Islabike Cnoc 16

At the moment, the bikes are being sold only in the UK and for delivery in Europe. One hopes that they, or bikes like them, will become more widely available so that people with disproportionate dwarfism, wherever they are, can be liberated as Susan B. Anthony would have women, and all people.

Stacking Up

 Around 1980, “aerodynamics” became all the rage in bicycling.  Certainly, there are advantages in shaping parts to minimize air drag for some riders, particularly time trialists.  But studies have revealed that, for the most part, the benefits of aerodynamics accrue only to cyclists riding at more than a certain speed—45 KPH, if I remember correctly.

Still, that didn’t stop bike and component manufacturers from making “aerodynamic “ bikes and parts for loaded bike touring or even “aerodynamic” versions—which looked as if they’d wandered into a vise—of Huffy and Columbia ten-speeds sold in department stores. 

Now, it seems there is a trend in the opposite direction. At least one European team is making part of its rolling stock less aerodynamic.

I’m not talking about the bikes.  Rather, a new anti-aerodynamic principle is being applied to the team cars and vans that follow riders during major races.  Typically, these vehicles carry one or two spare bikes and, perhaps, some wheels and other parts.  But, lately, some teams have been stacking five or more bikes atop those cars and vans.

The reason, apparently, is to create a slipstream for the riders ahead of them.  Not only does a taller stack, like a higher wall, blocks more wind.  But, because the vehicle is moving, it pushes air ahead of it—in the direction of the riders.

As far as anyone knows, neither the Union Cycliste Internanationale (UCI) nor any other governing body has a rule against this practice.  If the UCI were to pass such a rule, I have to wonder if it will do as much to deter bad behavior as, oh, their anti-doping rules.

Acorn Bags: Nuggets Of Beauty And Function

Some would argue that a true artist, or even artisan, wants the focus to be on his or her work rather than him or her self.  They may have a point:  After all, while some (yes, I include myself) might be interested in the details of  Rodin's, Picasso's, Shakespeare's, Louis Armstrong's or Georgia O'Keefe's personal lives, what matters is the images, sounds and words they left us.

So I could understand Ron's wish not disclose his wife's name, or even his last name.  For the past fifteen years, they've done work that has, rightly, attracted attention in the cycling word--and outside of it. 

One day this past fall,  when I was crossing underneath the Hudson on the PATH train with Dee-Lilah, my custom 2018 Mercian Vincitore Special, two young couples asked me about the bike, with its lovely (if I do say so myself) paint finish, intricate lug work and a couple of nicely-made bags--or, if you prefer, pieces of bicycle luggage.

A male member of one couple, and a female of the other, seemed to be regular cyclists and wanted to know about the bike itself.  But the male member of the other couple--who told me he rides, but is "not a bike fanatic"--was interested in the bags because, he said, he's thinking of leaving his regular job and becoming a full-time maker of custom bags of all kinds.  He could see the workmanship on the bike's bag, he said, and was curious as to who makes such items.

A couple of weeks ago, when I pulled into a service station/convenience store on Point Lookout with Zebbie, my 1984 Mercian King of Mercia, someone asked about both the bike--which, while its lugwork isn't as intricate as Dee-Lilah's, has a unique paint job--and the bags I'd attached to it. 

In both instances, folks were curious about bags, or bicycle luggage, made by Acorn Bags in California.  I've been using them (along with Ruthworks Bags, which I've mentioned in previous posts) for about three years.  They haven't quite developed the "patina" canvas bags like it acquire because, since I have several bikes (and a bunch of bags), there isn't one, or even a set, that I use every day.  But I feel I've ridden the Acorn bags enough to comment on them.

First of all, I want to say that while they might seem expensive in comparison to mass-produced bags of synthetic materials,  Acorn's prices are actually quite reasonable, especially when you consider the materials used and the hand work that goes into making them.  

More important, the materials and workmanship on them are impeccable. The canvas is as strong as it is aesthetically pleasing, and the stitching is consistent and formidable.  Currently, Acorn's bags are made in three colors:  black, gray and brown.  Every couple of months, Acorn makes a run of bags in one of those colors.  They post a list of colors and anticipated availability dates on their website, so if you have your heart set on a particular color or model, sign up for their mailing list.

While I like all of their colors, my particular preference is for brown.  It looks both earthy and classy, like a leather bag or pair of boots made in a similar color.  Also, it's similar to a color in which Specialites TA-LaFuma bags were made for several years.  

I've been using their medium randonneur bag, front "bread box" bag and two of their saddle bags.  With the exception of their "bread box" bag, all are inspired by classic French and English designs.  It's hard not to notice the similarities between the Medium Rando bag on the front rack of Zebbie and its Specialites TA counterpart, the Medium saddlebag on that bike and the Berthoud "banana" bag, or the saddlebag on Dee-Lilah and some Carradice or Brooks designs.

But Ron and his wife don't seem content to copy traditional designs as much as possible.  They seem to have thought of how those beautiful, durable bags can be made more convenient.  For example, the Medium Rando bag can be used, with light loads, without a decaleur as long as you mount it on a rack like the Nitto M12 or M18 or Velo Orange racks with the "tombstone."  (The "bread box" bag is also designed to be ridden with such racks.) With somewhat heavier loads, you might want the decaleur, but I've managed to stabilize the bag with a small bungee cord attached hooked onto the D ring on either side and passed underneath the rack.  And, while I haven't tried it yet, I imagine that it might be possible to use the large saddlebag--with an exterior size and inner capacity like that of the Carradice Barley--without a support because of the ways in which the bag is reinforced in key spots.

The "breadbox" bag is somewhat smaller in capacity than--and, perhaps, not as "classic" looking as--the Rando bag. But one thing I really like about it is the way it fits on the rack:  Its profile almost perfectly matches the platforms on the Nitto M18 rack on Dee-Lilah or the Velo Orange Constructeur front rack on Zebbie.  And, its flap provides easy access to all of the bag's contents, though I advise tightening the elastic closure.

In all, I can confirm all of the good things you've read and heard about Acorn bags.  They are worthy of the finest handmade frame and will add a touch of class and personality to a mass-market bike. But, most important, Ron and his wife have managed to make functional improvements to beautiful classic bags--and to imbue them with the pride of true artisans and artists.