One Out Of Ten Europeans Can't Be Wrong! Right?

One of the most common problems with old English three-speed bikes is that the hubs (and, in some cases, bottom brackets) have not been oiled in a long time.  I am guessing that British working-class people and farmers, who used such bikes regularly, if not daily, knew enough to drip some oil into their Sturmey-Archer SW hubs every month or so, depending on weather and other conditions.  Was that knowledge that was passed on from parents to children, or taught to them in school?

Most Americans have never had such knowledge.  (I know I didn't, until I encountered it in Tom Cuthbertson's Anybody's Bike Book.)  So, on this side of the Atlantic, Raleighs and Dunelts and Robin Hoods and whatever-other-brand three-speeds were ridden with Sturmey Archer hubs that had less oil in them than Japan or Western Europe. 

For that matter, the chains on those bikes--and others ridden, or at least owned, by the vast majority of Americans were just as dry.  One day, while parking my bike, I recognized the bike of a co-worker and saw that its chain was almost as orange as my safety vest.  The following day, I brought a little bottle of Tri-Flo with me and, finding the bike parked just a couple of spots away from where I saw it the day before, dripped some lube into the chain.

As it happened, that night we left at the same time.  On such nights we rode together, as her place was along the way to mine.  About ten minutes into the ride, she said, "My bike feels different tonight."  I could barely suppress my grin. "Why does it feel so much easier to pedal?"

From that night onward, she lubed her chain. And kept her tires inflated.  It may not sound like much, but it's more maintenance than most other people do--or want to do.

For that matter, in oiling her chain and pumping her tires, she's doing more than the average IKEA customer would ever do.  Someone at the home furnishings store chain figured that out.  Actually, that person (or group of people) came to realize that the fact that chains have to be lubed is exactly what prevents some IKEA customers from even buying a bike in the first place:  They're afraid that oil or grease will stain their nice new furniture, or simply clash with the décor.

So, the company--on whose beds one out of every ten living Europeans was conceived--has just announced that it is going to start selling the Sladda--a unisex bicycle "designed to fit an urban lifestyle"--in Europe this August.

The Sladda will come equipped with a sealed internally-geared rear hub and a cogged drive belt that, according to company literature, is good for about 15,000 kilometers (9,320 miles). 

Now, of course, a bike with such a system is not new:  Trek introduced one nearly a decade ago, and other bike-makers preceded and followed them.  But the Trek District and Soho are available only in bicycle shops, as are (or were) most of the other belt-driven bikes.  Some clever marketing person in IKEA's employ recognized that the sort of person who's put off by chains or hubs that require oil will probably never set foot in a bicycle shop. That realization, more than the design or even the seeming novelty of the bike itself, is probably what is motivating IKEA to offer the Sladda.

The bike-- designed by Oskar Juhlin, Jan Puranen and Kristian Eke of the design consultancy Veryday--will also have what the designers describe as a "click system" for attaching accessories, including  a basket, a rack and a cart.  Juhlin hints that third parties might create others:  "Sladda is like tablet apps:  you can add endless accessories to enhance ease of use."

That statement, I believe, says as much as anything else about the intended market for the bike.

Taking Them With You

What do you like to take with you when you ride?

There are, of course, the things we must take with us.  For most cyclists, they include keys for the house (a, possibly, a bike lock), identification, some cash and, perhaps, a credit or ATM card.  Many of us would also include a couple of small tools (or a multitool), tire levers and a spare inner tube--and, depending on the conditions in which we're riding, a bottle or two of water and an extra layer of clothing or a rain jacket.  And a banana or energy bar.

Then there are those things we want to take. Often, that includes a camera (or something that can be used to take photos).  I also like to have something to write with and write on or, if I am leaving home for more than a day or two, a notebook--or my tablet.  And, when I have taken multiday tour, I usually had a book or two in my panniers. 

Now, if I had my druthers, I'd take Max and Marley with me.  Neither they, nor any other cat I've had, were crazy about being carried in a basket or bag, or about posing on my handlebar stem.  Plus, their tastes seem not to run to bananas, Clif bars and Gatorade.

Oh, there's one other thing I like to have with me, whenever I can, on my bike:  flowers.  Yes, even when I was the "before" photo (i.e., before I became my siblings' transistor), I would tuck a bud I'd plucked into a vent in my helmet or between crossed cables or on any other nook or cranny.  Although my favorites are lilacs and cherry blossoms, I'm not picky about what kind of flower I wear on myself or my bike: They all make me happy.

Over the past few years, creative and enterprising people have come up with accessories for carrying six-packs, bottles of wine, pizzas and all sorts of other things.  So, I should not have been surprised to see these:

 

Atlanta-based artist/designer Coleen Jordan likes to have flowers with her wherever she goes.  That motivated her to design the vases in these photos, as well as necklaces, badges and other jewelry that contain tiny living plants.  They are available from her shop, Wearable Planter, on Etsy.

 

A Real Race Face

Today, most of us would cringe if we were to see a white performer in blackface.  I could barely contain my rage when I found out that the only film version of The Tragedy of Othello available in the library of a college in which I taught was the one in which Laurence Olivier is in blackface.  I know he was legendary, but I didn't think I--let alone my students--could stomach the sight of even an actor of his stature in that mask of oppression.

You might think I've been infected with the hypersensitive political correctness of the academic world when I say that this photo nearly made me jump out of my skin:

 

He is Barry Hoban and, thankfully, he wasn't channeling Al Jolson in The Jazz Singer.  Rather, he was wearing a mudpack to protect himself against the terrible weather he and other riders encountered in the 1972 Paris-Nice race.  Hoban was also wearing two layers under his team jersey and two pairs of gloves. 

By the way, he won that race.  In 1969, he became the first Briton to win two consecutive stages (Nos. 18 and 19) of the Tour de France, and the only Englishman to do so until Mark Cavendish did it in 2008.  He also won six other Tour stages from 1967 through 1975, and completed 11 of the 12 Tours he started.  To this day, no British rider, and almost no other rider from any other country, has finished more Tours.

He also won two stages each of the 1964 Vuelta a Espana and the 1974 Ghent-Wevelgem.  In the latter race, he finished ahead of Eddy Mercx and Roger de Vlaeminck in the overall standings.  In addition, he won a number of one-day classics and stages of longer races.

In the 1967 Tour, he won the stage from Carpentras to Sete the day after Tom Simpson collapsed and died during his ascent of Mont Ventoux.  Two years later, Hoban married Simpson's widow, with whom he had a daughter and raised two stepdaughters.

This is what he looked like without the mudpack:

 

Sound: Of The Wind, Or From It?

April Fool's Day was nearly two weeks ago.  Still, I thought the e-mail someone sent me about a certain bicycle accessory was a joke.  Then again, I think a lot of bicycle accessories are jokes, whether or not they are intended as such.

Anyway...It has to do with the sounds you hear when you're riding.  Me, when I'm riding, I like to be aware of my surroundings.  That is why I never ride with headphones:  I want to hear traffic and such, so I can be alert to any possible hazards.  When none exist, I like to enjoy the sounds of birds chirping, ocean waves spilling,  the wind rippling and rasping,  and snippets of conversation--or simply silence, depending on where I am.

When I was a kid, Radio Shack used to offer transistor (Is that what I am to my siblings?) radios that clamped onto the handlebars.  I was tempted to buy one, mainly because they were offered in every color in which jellybeans were ever made.  Or so it seemed.  But since that fancy passed, I never had any desire to add an accessory that made sounds I couldn't already hear from my saddle.

I guess others don't feel the same way.  For them, Korean designer Joseph Kim created Sound From The Wind, which, as its name tells us, takes the breeze that blows in your face and turns it into something that sounds like a flute or an ocarina.  The funny thing, though, is that the device looks like something a kid of my generation might've put on a Sting Ray or Chopper to pretend he was piloting a fighter jet.  Like such devices, Sound From The Wind grows louder as you ride faster.  The pitch can be altered with switches on the handlebars.

Hmm...I wonder whether the way one rides also determines what kind of music comes from the device.  I mean, how would I have to pedal if I wanted to hear Vivaldi's La Tempesta di Mare?  Or a Chopin nocturne?

P.S.  Gotta wonder about that brake lever...
 

An Ovation That Hasn't Found Its Audience

We've all seen, or at least heard of, "solutions in search of problems." They seem, as often as not, to come from engineers, inventors or simply geeks who have too much time on their hands.

The bicycle world has seen its share of such "solutions".  What's sad or funny, depending on your point of view, is that even if no problem is found for the solution and said solution fades away quietly, someone might revive it.  An example is elliptical or ovoid chainrings, which I discussed in an earlier post.

I remember hearing about another innovation that left me wondering, "And the purpose of this is...?"  I hadn't thought about it in a long time until someone passed along a video of it:




I guess somebody figured that if four-wheel drive works for jeeps, two-wheel drive would work on bikes, especially mountain bikes. 

The bike in the video made its debut in a 2005 robotics show.  I have to wonder whether its inventors knew that, nearly a decade and a half earlier, someone else had the same idea. And it shared the same problem with its descendent:  It didn't work very well. 

The Legacy Ovation first saw the light of day in 1991.  I remember reading about it in one of the magazines at the time.  If it looks like a conventional mountain bike with an oversized speedometer cable running through it, well, that's pretty much what it is.  Besides the cable, the other major difference is in the front wheel, which is a rear wheel, and the fork, which has a diameter of 135 mm (most front forks are 100 mm) to accommodate the wheel. 

 

As you can probably tell, the rear wheel (the one that's actually in the rear) is powered in the same way as rear wheels on other bikes.  Each end of the cable has a rotor-cut gear mounted on the side opposite the freewheel.  So, the rotation of the rear wheel causes the front wheel to turn.

The idea actually sounds pretty good.  One of the problems, though, is that of "fighting" the gear, which has a lot of resistance.  Also, having such gears exposed leads to rapid wear and deterioration, which was the downfall of the few Ovations that were ridden.

Solutions like the Ovation don't always find a problem, thankfully.  But sometimes they find a market.  And the bicycle's developers confidently predicted that their invention would capture "20 to 40 percent of the market over the next few years".  It, of course, didn't, and neither did the bike shown at the robotics show.  From what I understand, there have been a couple of other attempts, since then, to create a two-wheel drive.  They didn't gain traction (pun intended) with the public, either. 

Still, even if the two-wheel drive bicycle doesn't find the problem it's supposed to solve, the idea probably won't die.  As long as there's the potential for finding an audience, would-be inventors and entrepreneurs will probably continue to work on this "solution", whether or not it ever finds its problem.