His Spirit of Innovation Wasn't Suspended

The other day, I wrote about some bicycle suspension systems that were patented nearly a century before Rock Shox or Girvin Flex Stems came bouncing down the trails.

It's not as if the idea of cushioning the ride and rider died with the fin de siecle Bike Boom.  Indeed, some of you rode balloon-tired Schwinn, Columbia, J.C. Higgins or other bikes with a big spring in front of your handlebars.  That spring was attached to a bars that were, in turn, attached to the front fork.  How much that actually absorbed shock, I don't know.  I have long thought that they--like the "banana" seat struts attached to shock absorbers on bikes like the Schwinn "Krates"--were really intended to enable kids' fantasies of riding a "chopper" on the flats of Daytona.

Around the time that boys (and, on occasion, girls) were tearing up and down driveways and cul-de-sacs, one of the few American adults riding at the time was thinking about real, functional suspension for bicycles.  Having been one of the first commercial pilots (for American Airlines), he no doubt saw the value in keeping his bike stable and upright (the real purpose for suspension on cars and motorcycles) in turbulent conditions.

If you've on any kind of organized bike ride for, say, the past half-century, you have heard his name.  More precisely, you have followed his directions.



Yes, there was a real, live Dan Henry behind the "Dan Henry arrows".  While he is best remembered for his system of road symbols, his most interesting contributions to cycling may well be in the ways he made his bikes more comfortable and stable.  



I remember reading about Dan Henry's bicycle in an issue of American Cycling, the magazine that became Bicycling!  As I recall, the bike was a Rene Herse or Alex Singer--or that of some other prestigious French builder.  He made the mechanisms himself from springs and bar stock he obtained in auto-repair shops.  Again, if memory serves, he said that this system allowed him to ride the lightest tubuar tires and rims under nearly all conditions without getting flats or dinging his rims.

(Interestingly, he would later convince Clement to make tubular tires with butyl tubes, which are more durable and retain air longer than the latex tubes commonly found in high-quality tubulars.)

Another part of his "suspension system", if you will, was something he made himself--from a pair of handlebars, a tandem "stoker" stem and some canvas webbing.  

It seems that every decade or so, someone re-invents this saddle.  When I first became a dedicated cyclist (around the time I found that copy of American Bicyclist in the local library), a similar saddle called the "Bummer" was advertised in Bicycling!  I think one of the magazine's editors test-rode it, probably unaware of his perch's provenance.  

Perhaps it's not surprising to know that Dan Henry was also one of the early proponents of recumbent bicycles, and that he designed and rode such a machine.  I guess he was one of the first cyclists to see that high performance and all-day comfort needn't be mutually exclusive--and, as an engineer and pilot, was one of the first modern cyclists to have the background and skills to realize such a vision.

He died nearly four years ago, just short of 99 years old, riding almost to the end.  I wonder what he thought of some of the suspension designs--especially for downhill bikes--that have come along.

See How They Run: Choosing Your Fuel

Are you trying to convince someone (yourself?) to cycle rather than drive to work or school or wherever?

If you are, this might make your job a little easier:

They Didn't Come As A Shock Then...

Writing recently about "path racers" and the mountain bike experiences of my youth got me to thinking of just what it means to be a "mountain" or "path" rider--and what makes bikes suitable for those kinds of riding.

I also got to thinking about how and when those kinds of riding came to be seen as distinctive from other kinds of riding, and how the terms to describe them came to be.

It seems to me that those kinds of cycling and bikes--as well as cyclo-cross and bicycle motocross (BMX) evolved as specialties within cycling because of paved roads. 

Think about it:  In the early days of cycling, there were few paved roads.  And the few paved roads had gravel, cobblestone or granite sett (a.k.a. Belgian Block) surfaces. Thus, most of the time, cyclists were riding under conditions that, today, we would equate with off-road or cyclo-cross--or what the Brits would call "rough stuff".

If you are a mountain or cyclo-cross rider, try to think of what your rides would be like with solid rubber tires--or no tires at all. In other words, think  of what it would be like to ride your favorite trail on bare wood or metal rims. That is, I believe, what normal riding conditions would have been like for most cyclists before the pneumatic tire was invented in the late 1880's.

And to think cyclists rode, not only without the cushioning of air-filled tires, but on front wheels that were almost as tall as the riders themselves!

So, really, it's not surprising that there were attempts to incorporate suspension into bicycles. 

This Blackledge bicycle, patented in 1890, uses a spring in the fork assembly to soften the blows from the rough roads of the day.  It seems that ever since the "safety" bicycle (two wheels of more or less equal size) was invented, attempts to incorporate suspension into bicycles began with the front fork.  For one thing, we feel road shock first at the front.  For another, shock to the front is more likely to upset our balance or momentum--and cause crashes-- than shock at the rear.

This Tillinghast bicycle, patented the following year, has another interesting front suspension system as well as a unique kickstand built into the pedals:

Still, attempts to soften the ride--and make the bike more stable on rough surfaces--weren't limited to tinkering with the front end.  Here is a drawing submitted by Fernand Clement for the suspension bike he patented in 1892:

Here is another early rear suspension system on a J.H. Mathews bicycle, patented in 1891:

Hmm...Wouldn't it be fun to envision Messrs. Blackledge, Tillinghast, Clement and Mathews showing up at Tamalpais a century after they created these bikes...but just before Rock Shox, Marzocchi, Manitou came along?

She Would've Had Us Riding In Style--And Comfort!

When you think of female clothing designers (which, I assume, you regularly do! ;-) , names like Coco Chanel, Miuccia Prada, Vera Wang, Betsey Johnson, Carolina Herrera and Sonia Rykiel probably come to mind.  They have influenced what we--and, yes, you guys, too!--wear today. 

We American women, especially those of us who are active in any sport like cycling, owe perhaps an even greater debt to someone you probably don't know about unless you're, ahem, of a certain age. Or if you teach at FIT or Pratt.  Or if, of course, you are a fashion designer.

According to Jennifer Minniti, the chair of Pratt's Fashion Design Department (and herself a designer), the person of whom I am writing "is known as the inventor of American sportswear or ready-to-wear."  That's not an overstatement:  She was probably the first designer to understand how American women's lives were different from those of upper-class Europeans (who were, traditionally,  the main customers of most designers) and how they therefore needed clothing that was more functional and adaptable while still elegant and stylish.

Most important of all, her creations fitted and moved with the body, something that could not be said of the work of other designers, whose clients still largely eschewed physical activity. It is no surprise, then, to see that she created this "cycling costume" in 1940:

 

I don't expect to see that in the peloton. But, hey, forget that it isn't in Lycra--wouldn't you wear it? 

 

 

Claire McCardell, who designed it, was the first American fashion designer to garner name recognition.  She was so well-known in her time that in 1950, President Harry S. Truman presented her with the Women's National Press Club Award, making her the first fashion designer to be voted one of America's Women of Achievement.

Hmm...How would she have dressed the man who quipped, "I like riding a bicycle for two--by myself"?

 

A Path Racer's Companion?

Yesterday, I wrote about Mercian's new limited-edition Path Racer.  It is quite a lovely machine.  For that reason alone, it's easy to see why path racers--a category of bikes all but unknown in the US and all but forgotten in England, France and other countries where it was once popular--is enjoying a revival.  Aside from the fact that they can be very practical, especially for someone who lives in a rural area and wants to (or can) own only one bike, they can have some of the most graceful lines and curves to be found on two-wheeled vehicles.

After writing yesterday's post, I came across another bike with graceful arcs and stunning symmetry. Unlike the new path racers, which harken to past bikes, this one is futuristic (both in the lower- and upper- case "F" sense of the word) even as it retains a classical aesthetic. (All right, I'll stop writing like the art critic I'm not!) This bike--the "Humming Bird"--is inspired by R. Buckminster Fuller's Dymaxion car, according to its builder, Cherubim:

Somehow I can see it next to the Mercian Path Racer.