More--Or Mores?

If you mention English three-speed bikes, the first brand that comes to most people's minds is Raleigh.

That makes sense when you realize that not only did Raleigh make more such machines-- and make them for longer-- than any other bike maker, they  had also, by the late 1950s, acquired BSA, Sunbeam and other manufacturers of such machines.  If you aren't a three-speed enthusiast or haven't worked in a bike shop, you probably aren't aware of those brands.  Most people have seen bikes from those marqes but didn't notice because they don't know or care about such things, or because those bikes looked so much like Raleighs that they didn't notice the brands.

So it's not such a surprise that English bicycle saddles have a similar history to the bikes I've mentioned, especially when you realize that most English bikes (as well as machines from many other countries), until the 1970s, came with British leather saddles.

Now, a cyclist who isn't of a certain age can be forgiven for thinking that Brooks is the only British company to have made those iconic perches from hide stretched across rails.  Turns out, up to about the 1970s, a number of firms in Albion were making saddles similar to the ones Brooks offered.

You may have ridden one of their wares, perhaps without realizing it.  Among those saddle makers were Lycett, Wrights and one I re-discovered recently.   They all have remarkably parallel histories:  They started as makers of horse saddles or other leather goods, and they all were based--as was much of the British cycling industry--in and around Birmingham.  

(The name of that city is pronounced "burr-mean-gum" with an accent on the first syllable.  Folks in Alabama will tell you their largest city is "Burr-ming-ham", with the last syllable accented.)

Recently, I saw an old Holdsworth parked in my neighborhood.  I wish I had taken photos of it:  The frame was obviously from the 1960s or earlier, but it was kitted out with a combination of modern, mostly Japanese, components.  The bike, however, sported one item that was very distinctively of its place and time:

I rather liked the nameplate, with the Middlemore name bookended by an enlarged "M" and "E" at the beginning and end, respectively.  What puzzled me, though, is this:

So the rear plate says "Middlemore" but the side emblems read "Middlemores".  It would make more sense if the latter contained an apostrophe, as in "Middlemore's saddles".  Instead,it looks as if someone couldn't decide on the singular or plural.

The makers of that saddle can be forgiven.  The B89, which I believe was the model I saw on the Holdsworth, looks like a cross between a Brooks Professional and B17.  At least, the width seems to be somewhere between the two.  And the leather on it was as thick as I've seen on any, and appeared to be of very good quality.  Whoever's been riding that saddle seems to have taken care of it.

In doing some research, I found an entire blog devoted, not only to Middlemore(s) saddles, but to other items--some not related to bikes--made by the company.  Apparently, the firm was known as Middlemore & Lamplugh after the two firms bearing those names merged in 1896, and continued to make saddles under both names until 1920, when the firm was dissolved and one of its factories was sold.  Middlemore once again became a separate company, known as Middlemores Coventry, that continued to make bicycle saddles.

As Raleigh was acquiring many of the old British bicycle marques, a rival company, the Tube Investments Group, was buying up the bike makers Raleigh hadn't collected.  By that time, Raleigh also owned a number of component manufacturers, including Sturmey Archer---and Brooks.  In 1960, TI bought Raleigh, which meant that, in essence, they controlled the British bicycle industry.

TI would then "retire" some of the old bike and parts brands that had previously competed with Raleigh and its affiliates.  Somehow, though, Middlemore(s) managed to remain independent.  During that time, the B89 came out; later, a cutaway version (like the Brooks Swallow), the B89N, was offered.  And their tri-sprung saddle, the B3, found a following among some more leisurely cyclists.  According to one former employee, Middlemore(s) even made a saddle for Princess Margaret.

By the 1970's, however, much of their dwindling income came from rebadged saddles they made for a few bike manufacturers, including Lambert/Viscount and Moulton.  But as companies like Lambert/Viscount died out, were acquired or moved production overseas, Middlemore(s) dwindled and seems to have stopped making saddles altogether in the 1980s, although it existed on paper until 21 May 1991.

At that time, Middlemore(s) was one of the most longevous manufacturing firms of any kind in Britain or the world.  It had, in fact, existed for even longer than Brooks or Raleigh. 

Across the Channel, a number of French firms made leather saddles similar to the ones made by their counterparts in Blighty.  Some were of decidedly inferior quality, like the Adga Model 28s that came with Peugeot UO8s and other similar French bikes.  (The Adga 28, as Sheldon Brown wryly notes, probably did more than anything else to turn people off suspended leather saddles.)  Then there was Norex, a "second line" of saddles from Ideale, the best-known French maker.  

Ideale seems to have gone out of business in the mid-1980s or thereabouts.  From the next two decades or so, Brooks was just about the only brand of leather saddles available (and then only sporadically) in the US and much of the world.  A Dutch company continued to make similar products, which seemed to be of decent quality.  One possible reason why they weren't imported to America, or to most of the English-speaking world, might have been its name:  Lepper.

Note:  The images in this post came from "VeloBase".

What Makes Primates Primary?

I was brought up--or, at least, inculcated with the notion-- that we are the Primary Primates.

So from what, exactly, does our primacy derive?  Well, for one thing, humans are the only beings capable of speech and language.  Esteemed scientists said as much.  For another thing, they also declared that only homo sapiens can think and reason.  And equally esteemed philosophers and theologians insisted that non-humans could not feel empathy or love, or have any sense of the possibility an after- life.  Thus, they concluded, non-human animals did not have souls.

Early on, I realized that all of the arguments for the superiority of humans were premised on some thing or another that humans could do but other living beings couldn't.  

That got me to thinking:  What if we constructed a hierarchy of living things based on whether or not they could ride a bicycle?  

Why would we do such a thing?  I don't know.  One thing I know, however, is that Max and Marlee wouldn't be too happy if I did--especially if they were to see this:

Of course, the fact that my favorite felines can't ride a bike (not yet, anyway! ;-)) doesn't make them less than any other living being, in my eyes!

Out Front? Or A Fashion Accessory? Or A Human Shield?

If you live any place long enough, you notice changes.  Even if you find yourself with more choices in stores, restaurants or whatever--or if the buildings and parks get fixed up--you'll probably become one of those bitter or cantankerous people who grumbles, "I remember when..."

I'm starting to become one of those people in my current neighborhood of Astoria, Queens.   Before I moved here, I lived in Park Slope, Brooklyn for eleven years.  That was long enough for me to see it turn from "Dyke Slope" (The Lesbian Herstory Archives are still located in the neighborhood.) to a colony of affluent young couples who divided their work thusly:  one worked worked on Wall Street or was running a tech startup, the other pushed the kid in a stroller from pre-school to soccer practice or dance lessons while toting a yoga mat (and wearing $100 yoga pants).  

By that time, the joke was that the kids were the fashion accessories.  If you saw the way those parents (yes, some of them were men) pushed their carts, with the kid (or, more precisely, the kid's outfit) prominently displayed, you might think it wasn't a joke.

When some of those parents crossed the street, I really thought some of them might be using the kids as human shields!

I was thinking of them when I came across this bike:

It would be perfect for them, don't you think?

In Pink

One week ago today, I marched with about a million (depending on whose count you believe) other people in Manhattan.  If you saw that demonstration, or the ones in Washington and many other cities around the world, you probably noticed that many of the marchers wore "Pink Pussy" hats.  

They make for a great statement.  And, if the day ever comes when we don't need to make such a statement, they'll be a lot of fun to wear.  They might even be seen as adorably goofy.

Someone suggested making a bike helmet to match.  Hmm...They certainly would be visible.  Let's hope that if it's ever made, it doesn't look like this:

C-Preme Raskullz Sparklez Peace Love Kitty Helmet

or end up with a name like that!

Call Me Paranoid, But....

You get pulled over, whether you're cycling or driving, even though you're within the speed limit and aren't violating any other laws.  Or a sales clerk follows you around a department store when you don't have any of the store's merchandise on you.  Or you don't get a promotion or raise given to someone who is, or seems, no better or worse an employee than you.  Or, worse, you're summoned into the HR office at your workplace to defend yourself against questionable or simply false allegations.

After such experiences, you might wonder, "Why me?"  If you are a member of a group of people who lives under suspicion--say, you are a young black male or someone who is, or merely "looks", Muslim or Middle Eastern--or merely someone who looks like you're "not from around here", you can't help but to think that your appearance or identity might have something to do with it.  And, in the workplace situations I've described, you can't help but to believe--too often, with justification (Trust me, I've been in such situations!) that someone in your organization "has it in for you" just because of who you are.

It's easy to feel the things I've described in the previous paragraph if you are cycling, particularly in some place where there aren't many adult cyclists or where people are, for whatever reasons, hostile to cyclists.  Or, worse, if you encounter some traffic cop on a motorcycle who has nothing better to do and, being on a bike, you are an easier target in his quest to make his ticket quota for that month.

Lately, other cyclists and I have felt a similar kind of unease--some might call it paranoia.  Within the past week or so, a number of localities have passed, or merely discussed, ordinances that have no other purpose than to harass, or simply discourage, cyclists.  And it's hard not to wonder whether the inauguration of Trump has something to do with it:  Could velophobic legislators and law enforcement officials feel empowered by the Bike Hater-in-Chief in much the same way xenophobes and bigots have felt emboldened to carry out acts of hate?

I want to thank dear reader Coline--who lives in Scotland, no less!--for pointing out two of the latest pieces of legislative lunacy.

The first comes from the state of Montana, where there is a draft bill that, if passed, would ban cyclists from riding on two-lane country roads that lack shoulders. Now, I have never been to Montana, but the article Coline sent me corroborates what I've heard from people who've been to The Treasure State:  most of the state's roads--and, basically, all of the roads outside of the towns (aside from the Interstates)--fit that description.  What that means, of course, is that cycling would be off-limits in much of the state.

What sort of message does that send to some fourteen- or fifteen-year-old in a state that is already automobile-centric?  If that kid can't get from one town or another--let alone ride for fun--he or she is likely to say, "To hell with it; I'll have my license soon!"  And, of course, such a ban would deter folks who might have considered a vacation there.  Personally, I wouldn't want to take a trip somewhere if I couldn't ride--unless I were going, say, to climb a mountain or hike a glacier.

Roads like this could soon be off-limits to cyclists in Montana.

The bill also contains another stipulation that would discourage riding:  Cyclists always have to ride single-file, no matter how large their group or how wide the road.  Hmm...Isn't discouraging social interaction among people of a group, or in a particular situation (such a workplace), the easiest way to "divide and conquer"?  That, of course, is what tyrants have always done to exert power over people they want to subjugate.  (Why do you think the slave-merchants brought people from different African clans and tribes aboard their ships?  Those captives didn't speak each other's languages and therefore were kept in a captivity even more pernicious than the chains that bound them.)

Will Montana's new motto be "Where Cycling Died"? 

The second authoritarian absurdity to which Coline alerted me comes from California.  Actually, it falls best into the category of nanny-state nonsense.  While Montana's bill is not yet up for a vote, the ridiculous regulation I'm about to describe became law in the Golden State on the first day of this year.  

Section 27400 of the California Vehicle Code prohibits a person from wearing "a headset covering, earplugs in or earphones covering , resting on or inserted in both ears" while cycling.  It calls for a fine of $178 for a violation.

Now, I want to say that I never ride with any sort of listening device in my ears.  When I'm riding in traffic, I want to be as alert as I can be to traffic and other parts of my surroundings.  When I'm riding in a more bucolic area, I prefer to listen to ambient sounds such as tides and wind or, if there are no such sounds, to simply enjoy the silence.  If I am riding with other cyclists, I cannot interact with them if my ears are plugged and Metallica or whatever is blaring in them.


That said, I can think of no reason to outlaw ear peices or headphones for cyclists.  As the article I've linked explains, if the practice poses any danger, it's only to the cyclists themselves.  Also, as the article points out, there are clusters of cyclists who wear devices while riding. They include urban areas where people are riding to work, doing errands or taking their kids to the park.  They also include college campuses.  Such places are easy targets for police officers who are over-zealous or simply see an easy target.  I don't think it's a stretch to say that the law, like those against loitering (which can be interpreted in all sorts of ways) targets people who have little wealth and power.  In other words, it's a law after Trump's own heart!