French BMX

 In 2015, I wrote a post about Lyotard pedals.  The French manufacturer was best known for its Models 460–the alloy “rattrap” model popular with cyclo-cross riders and bike tourists and commuters—and the 23, a.k.a., Berthet, a platform pedal that inspired the MKS and White Industries Urban Platform pedals.  Many ‘70’s Bike Boom-era machines were equipped with other models like the 45 (an alloy quill pedal) and the 136R, which was more or less a steel version of the 460 and sometimes had built-in reflectors.

Nowhere in the brochures I could find—or in articles like the one on the Classic Lightweights website—did I find a reference to this:

I am guessing that like Lyotard’s clipless pedal, it wasn’t made for very long. 

Both the BMX and clipless models, as good as they may have been, seem to have been “last gasp” efforts to keep the company, which seems to have ceased trading in the late-1980s, afloat. Lyotard’s sales of its less-expensive pedals (like the steel ones I mentioned) tanked, even as original equipment to manufacturers, when cheaper imports became available. Then the market for its higher-end pedals (and those from other companies) all but disappeared once Look and Time made easy-to-use clipless pedals available around 1985.

That year was also around the peak of BMX’s popularity—and when the cycling world was starting to realize that mountain bikes weren’t “just a fad.” While Japanese companies made many of the early BMX- and mountain-bike-specific parts, and Campagnolo even offered full gruppos for a couple of years, French bike and component manufacturers were slow to enter the mountain bike world and hardly touched BMX at all.

So, it’s hard not to wonder (for me, anyway) whether Lyotard would still be with us—and, in fact, be the presence it once was—had they started to make pedals like the ones in the photos—and clipless pedals—sooner.

The Point Of The Ride

 Some cyclists—especially racers and triathletes—eat to ride. Other cyclists ride to eat.

The same can be said for those who aren’t cyclists but take other kinds of rides.

His Freedom For A Reflector

 If there is a warrant out for you, make sure your bicycle has an intact reflector if you ride in West Des Moines, Iowa.

Now, I realize that this lesson or moral or whatever you want to call it applies to a very small number of you, my dear readers. I suspect (oddly appropriate word choice, isn’t it?) that not many of you have cycled in West Des Moines, Iowa (I haven’t) and, probably, even fewer, if any, of you have warrants for your arrest (something I don’t recommend).

But I have chosen to relate this story for its “Beware!” and “You never know…” elements.

George Hartleroad (Sounds like the name of the street he was riding on, doesn’t it?) was pedaling along a road in the Midwestern community when he was stopped for something that, to my knowledge, has never resulted in a pull-over here in New York. I don’t think it’s even been the ostensible reason why any NYPD officer halted some young man who was Riding While Black.

What was Mr. Hartleroad’s infraction?  His bike lacked a reflector.

But whatever trouble he might’ve been in was nothing compared to what awaited him when he gave a false name and the officers couldn’t find it. Finally, he gave his name, which revealed that he failed to report to a halfway house In Wisconsin in 1995.

“You’ve been on the run for longer than two out of the three officers here on the street have been alive,” said one of the arresting officers.

Turns out, a dozen years earlier, Mr. Hartleroad violently attacked a Minnesota woman in Chippewa County, Wisconsin. He served prison time for that assault before he was released to the halfway house he left and to which he didn’t return.

What can I say?  First I’ll reiterate what I said earlier: Don’t do anything that could result in a warrant. Second: If you’re going to get arrested, make sure it’s for something worthwhile like protesting injustice. And finally:  If you’re in West Des Moines, Iowa, be sure your bike has a reflector.