Quantcast
Channel: The Retrogrouch
Viewing all 689 articles
Browse latest View live

My New Old Brooks

$
0
0
I just got a new old saddle for an upcoming project for which I'm currently gathering parts. It's a honey-colored Brooks B17 Standard, which is probably my favorite all-around saddle. Prices for new B17s are around $120 - $130 nowadays.  (The first one I ever bought was probably little more than half that). The "Special" version, which has a skivved lower edge and larger, finished copper rivets, sells for around $180. Watching eBay auctions, I've found that good used B17 Standards sell for anywhere from $50 - $100, depending on how "broken-in" they are (Specials can go for a little more, obviously). This one has a slight mark on one of the rails that says it was once mounted to a bike, but otherwise it shows no sign of having ever supported anyone else's butt. No Proofide has been applied to it, either, so I didn't feel too bad paying an even $100 for it. It's basically new.

An old badge -- pre-bankruptcy.
Something I noticed about the saddle, when looking closely at it, was that it had to be in the neighborhood of 15 years old or more, despite being basically unused. Looking at the name badge on the back of the saddle, I noticed it has an older style brass badge with the words "Brooks England" on it, which was probably last used around the time that internal-gear hub maker Sturmey Archer still owned Brooks. The first B17 I ever purchased was made during that period and has the identical name badge. The Raleigh/Sturmey Archer/Brooks conglomerate went bankrupt in 1999, and Brooks was rescued by some investors who kept it going for a couple years before selling the company off to the Italian saddle maker Selle Royal in 2002. Selle Royal changed the name badges to an embossed design that itself recalls an even earlier design from the 1930s. The saddles are still made in England, but the current badge no longer says so.
Current production Brooks name badge.

That got me wondering exactly how old the saddle is. There was a time when Brooks would stamp a number code into the cantle plate (that's the steel plate at the back of the saddle where the rivets attach) which would indicate the year the saddle was made, but they seem to have stopped doing that. My oldest Brooks saddle is marked "72" and is mounted onto a very nice 1973 Mercian. Nowadays, there is an alphanumerical code stamped into the leather. I've read different explanations (or attempts at explanation) to decipher the code, but I've seen codes on some Brooks saddles that didn't seem to conform to any logical system. That would make sense, since I have read that for a time, the codes on the leather were "batch" codes, but didn't necessarily represent a manufacturing date. However, in more recent years at least, the letter is supposed to represent a month of manufacture, while the numbers indicate the year. My new old saddle is marked "9E9." If the E is a month, then it must represent May (5th letter, 5th month), and the year is probably '99. So this saddle would have been made not long before the company was put into receivership.

According to the Vintage-Trek website, which has a pretty useful article on date codes for a variety of bicycle components, the number represents a year, surrounding a letter to indicate the month. That would mean that 9E9 works out to May, 1999.
A couple more pictures:




And here's what it will look like after about 15 years and I-don't-know-how-many miles:

This one is on my Rivendell Long-Low. Like the one above, it dates to the late 90s. The color has darkened a lot, and it has taken on a nice patina. It is also supremely comfortable.
If readers want to know more about dating their Brooks saddles, or to see some of the changes in the name badges, there is the aforementioned article on the Vintage Trek website, and a useful reference on The Headbadge website. Both are worth checking out.

Some might be wondering about the project I'm working on that I mentioned at the start of this. More will be coming out in bits and pieces in the coming weeks. Stay tuned!

Pininfarina Fuoriserie: Bicycle, or Fashion Accessory?

$
0
0
The car designers are at it again, building bikes for people who don't really like to ride bikes. This time, it's the Italian design firm of Pininfarina, which is probably best known for designing cars for Ferrari, collaborating with boutique bicycle builders 43 Milano, to offer this 2-wheeled fashion accessory for the über-wealthy: The Pininfarina Fuoriserie.

The Fuoriserie is said to be inspired by the "tailor made cars of the thirties" and is described by its makers as a "jewel on two wheels" that combines "tradition with innovation." It features a frame built from Dedacciai chrome-moly steel, lugged and brazed (!) then chrome-plated. (By the way, the automotive writers out there keep calling it "welded," demonstrating how much they know about bicycles). The saddle and bars are wrapped with interlaced or woven leather, inspired by the leather interior of a 1936 Lancia Astura Bocca. The inexplicably curved top tube (maybe "bent" would be a more accurate description -- it's not so much of a curve as much as it's a dog-leg) is wrapped in burled walnut. I suppose to recall the look of a vintage car's dashboard? It's another element that says this bike is more about style than anything else.

The Pininfarina Fuoriserie comes with an electric-assist motor in the rear wheel hub (it just wouldn't do to have any plutocrats arriving at the café in a sweat). There is also a generator hub in the front to power the lights and charge the user's phone (an absolute necessity for those who both move and shake!). The battery for the motor is not shown in most of the pictures, but I believe it is kept in a leather "purse" that straps to the top-tube.
That top tube is wrapped in a burled walnut veneer. This is not a bike on which to get caught in the rain. Other bikes from the 43 Milano works feature frame tubes wrapped in wood, leather, or even crocodile skin.
I can't find any confirmation of it, but I have to assume that the battery is kept in that leather "purse" strapped to the top-tube. Most photos of the bike are taken with the pack left off. And what's up with the rim brakes? I thought all the "innovative" bikes were using discs nowadays.
The $9800 bike has an $80 stem from Velo-Orange! (the bars might be V-O, too). The folks at Pininfarina and 43 Milano apparently decided not to mount a bell to the little boss provided. Maybe they thought a bell would be an unnecessary frill? That, and the bell would push the price to $9810, and that would just be ridiculous.

From the 43 Milano description: "Pininfarina Fuoriserie is a fully innovative bike that features the typical lightness and retro appeal into smooth riding under any condition. While it is versatile and easy to handle in the city, it also performs well when used for tourism purposes. . . Pininfarina Fuoriserie is indeed a cult object that does not go unnoticed, as well as a faithful riding companion. This brought to a new exclusively, innovative, refined product we are proud to introduce to the market."

Okay - I'm going to assume that's just a terrible translation. I'm not sure what they mean by "tourism purposes," but if they mean touring, then I have to wonder about the lack of fender attachment points, or racks. No, this is a "faithful riding companion" for short rides to the café only on clear, sunny days.

Only 30 Pininfarina bicycles are being made, so it's a cinch they'll be exclusive. And at about $9800, they're strictly for the 1% club. But that's okay -- people who actually use their bikes have lots of options with far more function for far less dough, and the plutocrats will be spared the indignity of bumping into one of the great unwashed masses riding the same bike.

Zeus Bikes and Components

$
0
0
Basically dead-ringers for Campagnolo Record pedals,
these Zeus Gran Sport pedals feature aluminum cages. 
While going through a box containing some of my old components, I rediscovered this old pair of Zeus pedals that I had purchased years ago for another project, then didn't end up using. They got put away and were forgotten. They're a little dirty, but basically unused. I'm thinking about putting them to use soon.

Zeus was an interesting enigma of a bicycle and component company. There are a number of legends that surround the brand, though it's difficult to parse fact from fiction. They were probably best known as one of several companies making knockoff Campagnolo parts, but they also tried to earn a reputation for innovation, though the results were sometimes mixed. They were one of the few companies anywhere that made not only bike components, but also complete bicycles, including frames. They also made frame fittings, such as dropouts and fork crowns. Back in the '70s one could buy a bike with the Zeus name on the frame, as well as on virtually all the components -- and they were all actually made by Zeus (unlike, say, a Schwinn with "Schwinn-Approved" components, which were re-branded from other companies).

Later iterations of the Zeus pedals would have more of an
"hourglass" shape, and featured titanium spindles and cages!
Zeus was founded in 1926 in the Basque region of Spain, originally making small parts and components, and later frames and complete bicycles. I've read more than once that Zeus claimed to have designed the first parallelogram derailleur in the early 30s, long before Campagnolo, and even before the Nivex of 1938. It's an awesome legend -- but good luck finding any actual evidence to support it. Frank Berto, in his book The Dancing Chain, concludes that it was a corporate myth. Maybe somebody at Zeus made some pencil sketches in a notebook of such a thing, but they certainly didn't make or sell any parallelogram derailleurs prior to the 1950s, when they introduced a faithful copy of the Campagnolo Gran Sport, which they named . . . the Gran Sport. Throughout the '60s and early part of the '70s, the company copied Campy designs almost religiously. Other companies did the same, but the parts from Zeus were at least better than most copies.

A heavily drilled Zeus 2000 crankset, from a mid-70s advertisement.
The arms on later versions wouldn't be drilled completely through. 
In the late 1970s, Zeus got into the drillium craze like nobody else. Their 2000 line of components featured a crank that was milled and drilled outrageously. The rings were just peppered with holes, and the arms were slotted all the way through! The ads called them "ultra-light yet dependable," but I wonder how dependable they were. I read a review of the parts in an old issue of Bicycling where they said the crank could be visibly flexed under hard pedaling. The arms on later versions would be drilled part-way, but not all the way through. The drillium theme carried through to other components as well, including derailleurs, and brake levers.

One area where Zeus tried to out-Campy Campagnolo was in the use of Titanium. As mentioned, they were making pedals with titanium spindles and cages. Their 2000 model derailleur used titanium pivot bolts. The bottom bracket was all titanium (spindle, cups, and bolts), and the hubs used titanium axles and quick releases.

The basic design of the Zeus 2000 derailleur still owed a lot to Campagnolo. Zeus claimed that it was lighter than Super Record, though from what I've read, it was actually about the same, or slightly more. However, its pivot body sections were steel, so it's surprising that it was even close. The upper pivot bolt was titanium (why not the lower?), and as you can see, the pulley cage was heavily drilled. (photo from Classic Rendezvous)
An ad from Bicycling magazine, circa 1980. Notice the crank is not drilled all the way through anymore. According to the ad, the bottom bracket was all titanium, as were the hub axle and quick release. The crank used a smaller BCD than Campy, and could accept chainrings as small as 36 teeth. Also shown in the ad is the alloy freewheel, which preceded the Campagnolo version by a decade.
I had to search through a lot of old magazines to find an ad for one of Zeus' complete bicycles, but here's one from 1980. The Zeus Victoria was probably a nice enough racer in its day for someone on a budget who was trying like hell not to buy Japanese. The "New Racer" components were a lower-cost group, and fairly crude compared with similar priced options from SunTour and Shimano of the time. No mention in the ad about what the frame was built with, but the bike was fully equipped with Zeus parts -- even the frame pump (yes, they made a pump, too -- basically a knockoff of the Silca Imperio).

I still think the Zeus track fork-end is one of the
best looking ones out there. Much more graceful
than the Campy version.
Unfortunately for Zeus, embracing drillium and titanium weren't seen as innovative enough in the face of very serious competition coming from Japan in the late 70s and early 80s. The company tried to revamp their derailleurs and other components cosmetically, but in their basic architecture, they were still little more than copies of Campy designs that could trace their heritage back to 1950. Just imagine how they looked -- and performed -- compared to an indexing Dura Ace, or a SunTour Superbe Pro in the mid 80s?

By the end of the 1980s, Zeus was apparently finished, though the name was purchased by fellow-Spanish company Orbea, which still uses the Zeus name for things like stems and seat posts for their carbon-fiber framed racing bicycles.

When talking with vintage bike enthusiasts, you'll find that some people get fairly passionate about Zeus, and some get bristly at the suggestion that they just made Campy knockoffs. Some will tell legends of how Campagnolo contracted with Zeus to make some of their components (I've heard the same said of other companies that copied Campagnolo designs, like Ofmega), or that Zeus supplied the titanium pieces that Campagnolo used in their Super Record parts, or that Zeus would have been much bigger and better known than Campagnolo if not for the Spanish Civil War (there could actually be something to that one, but nobody will ever know). But that's what I mean when I call Zeus an enigma of a bicycle company. There are lots of stories, but it's hard to find any real evidence to support them. Ultimately, they are remembered (by those who remember them) mostly as one of the better Campy copies, with the occasional dash of flair that set them apart from the others.

The Dyslexic Fixie Conversion

$
0
0
Remember when it seemed like everyone wanted a "fixie"? (or at least, dedicated followers of fashion!) Of course, brakeless track bikes were the ultimate fixie ride for urban hipsters, but that didn't stop many many more from taking regular old vintage road bikes and converting them to fixies. At the height of the fad - what, 6 or 7 years ago? maybe more? - just think about how many classic old road bikes underwent the fixie conversion -- some with truly regrettable results. I suppose the fad saved a few classics from otherwise ending up in landfills, but there was always something vaguely unholy about slapping an aerospoke front wheel and sawed-off straight bars onto a vintage Colnago.
Still trying to figure out the saddle angle on this one. . .
Of course, the fixie fad started to decline, and I'm sure part of it had something to do with the fact that people figured out that multiple gear ratios and derailleurs were invented for a reason. But what to do with all those old fixed gear bikes after their owners realized that being able to change gears (and coast once in a while) is a really nice thing?

Well, the folks at Fyxation, from Milwaukee, have the answer: the Six Fyx Conversion Kit -- which turns a single-speed fixed-gear bike into a 6-speed derailleur bike.

The Fyxation kit includes a 120mm wide cassette hub, a 6-speed cassette, shift cables, and a Fyxation-labled Microshift derailleur and bar-end shift lever. There is also a derailleur hanger that works with bolt-on axles, and a 46 tooth chainring. The regular kit sells for $250. For those who don't want to build a new back wheel, a $300 version of the kit has a complete back wheel built with the Six Fyx hub. A 9-speed chain is needed, but not included.

I'd suggest making sure one can add brakes to their bike as well, but then, I've always believed any bike ridden on the street, fixed-gear or otherwise, should include brakes.

It's so nice when things come around full circle. Before, people were turning old road bikes into fixies. Now they'll be turning old fixies into multi-speed road bikes. I'm I alone in seeing irony here?

Please Don't Call Them Bikes

$
0
0
A platypus has a duck's bill, webbed feet, and lays eggs. But that doesn't make it a duck.

Not a duck.
By that same principal, just because something has wheels and pedals does not mean it's a bike.

Not a bike.
The Raht Racer is billed by its creators on Kickstarter as the "World's first highway speed bike." Nice, but No. The Raht Racer is a small, lightweight, electric car that happens to be equipped with a pedal-powered generator to extend its battery range.

From their Kickstarter page: "If you're a die-hard bike commuter who rides in all weather, that's commendable, but most of us have a hard time riding when it's cold, wet, and dark, not to mention, in heavy traffic." In other words -- biking is great, but what you really need is a car. And let's just be honest folks -- despite all the company's references to this vehicle as a "bike," the Raht Racer is a car.

The makers of the Raht Racer talk quite a bit about safety, noting that "there are more than 40,000 bike-car accidents every year." They describe the Raht Racer as "safer than a motorcycle, or bicycle on a busy street" and tout its "integrated roll cage, reinforced carbon fiber body and automotive safety features like headlights, tail lights, seat belts & air bag." All very nice -- but don't all those "automotive safety features" basically make it a car? Small and efficient maybe -- but still a car.

By the way -- not to sound nit-picky -- but the makers of this vehicle seem to make the same mistake made by many car-centric thinkers: to believe somehow that cars are safe. They note 40,000 bike-car accidents (they don't cite where they got that number, and I can't confirm it, but let's just go with it). Those accidents result in roughly 700 cyclist deaths per year. According to NHTSA, there are an average of more than 5 million vehicular accidents every year, resulting in well over 30,000 deaths annually, and about 1.5 million injuries. If I'm getting hit by an SUV, I'd rather it happen in my car than on my bike, but that doesn't mean cars are necessarily safe. There are all kinds of ways to get killed in a car.

The Raht Racer has some interesting features that make it an innovatively efficient zero-emissions car. For example, the pedal power is connected directly to a generator that recharges the batteries and extends the vehicle's range. It's worth noting that in no way do those pedals actually propel the vehicle. Like I've said, it is NOT a bike. Not only that, but all-electric drive is available at the touch of a throttle button, and the batteries can be recharged with a regular household power outlet. Pedaling can extend the range, but it's apparently unnecessary.
An admirable project for a zero-emissions car. Please don't call it a bike.

However, unlike most cars, one can, if they wish, get some exercise while they're on their way to work. Even when sitting at a light, apparently one can keep pedaling, and the car's computer can run a workout program. "You could be driving the flat lands of North Dakota, but experiencing the hills of San Francisco, even while stuck in traffic."

The makers also claim a top speed of up to 100 mph, and a range of about 50 miles. It seats two (though only one provides pedal power -- it would be nice if both could) and weighs a claimed 570 lbs. They expect it to be priced between $35,000 - 45,000. That might put it out of reach for many people, though there could be EV subsidies available to make the cost more manageable.

Don't let me come across as too negative about the Raht Racer. All one has to do on a typical work commute is look around them to see how the vast majority of vehicles on the road only carry a single occupant. A compact, lightweight, pedal-generator electric car would probably be a great option for many of those drivers. And I'm sorry to say that, based on the fact that they are less than half-way to their fundraising goal with only days left to go, they're unlikely to make it happen. Too bad. As a car, it's pretty cool.
Crispin Sinclair with the Babel Pedal-
Assisted Electric Vehicle. (from BabelBike)

Just don't call it a bike.

Taking a somewhat different approach, the Babel Bike is touted by its creator as the most significant innovation in bicycle safety "since the 1884 Rover Safety Bicycle." I suppose it is still technically a bike, but it stretches the definition. Maybe something like this should be called a "Pedal-Assisted Electric Vehicle." There is apparently a non-electric version, but I don't imagine anyone who would be interested in such a vehicle as this would buy it without an electric motor. It is currently seeking funding on Indiegogo.

Equipped with a "safety cage" in which the rider sits, the Babel PAEV includes seatbelts, built-in lights front and rear, turn signals and hazard flashers, a loud car-like horn, and huge rear-view mirrors. It also has large U-lock-shaped bars to protect the rider's feet. Basically, this thing is loaded with almost as much "passive" safety equipment as a modern car, lacking only airbags to go the full auto. The inventor, Crispin Sinclair of the U.K., says that the design of the Babel PAEV allows it to "bounce off" lorries (that's trucks to us here in the States) instead of being dragged under them. I have my doubts. If someone gets hit on this thing by a truck, the only difference is that emergency crews will have to spend a little more time extricating them from the cage. I could be wrong. Or maybe just realistic.

The folks at Treehugger.com say "There are a hundred reasons why this is a terrible idea. Cyclists shouldn't have to be in safety cages; they shouldn't have to defend themselves against trucks in the first place. If there was proper infrastructure for cyclists this wouldn't be necessary. If trucks and buses had side guards and proper mirrors and well trained drivers they wouldn't crush cyclists." Still, they say, "If every driver was well-trained, alert, sober, kept their eyes on the road and never made mistakes, we wouldn't need seat belts. Passive safety has worked in cars, might it not also work for bikes?"

Maybe. But then, isn't the whole point of a bicycle that it is something active, not passive?  After one adds all that "passive" equipment, is the vehicle still a bike?

Nikola Pedals: Pedal Like a Skater

$
0
0
You've been pedaling wrong.

I know what you're thinking. You probably thought it was enough that you pedaled in circles, and maybe even "ankling" like all the bike magazines used to say you should (do they still say that?). You might have even switched to clipless pedals that allowed more "float" to protect your knees. But none of those things is enough.

A totally new pedal design that incorporates a completely different movement has recently been developed by Nikola Innovation. At first glance, they don't appear to be much different from any other Look-type clipless pedal, but the Nikola pedals utilize something the company calls "Zivo Technology" which is a fancy, copyrighted name that means that the pedals have about 25 mm of lateral motion on the spindle.

The pedals come from Cleveland, Ohio, and were developed by Nick Stevovich who has a background in speed skating. After studying the motion of speed skaters, whose leg movement takes a lateral path as the leg extends, Stevovich believed that if a cyclist could achieve a similar movement, then they would put more muscles into the pedaling motion, and they would see more power output as a result. An added benefit is supposed to be that it might offer a more natural movement which could ease knee and/or hip pain for some riders (that claim is currently being studied).

The pedals have been tested by the Human Performance Lab at Cleveland State University in a study involving 50 riders. According to Nikola, 70% of the riders showed a 2% improvement in efficiency, and 7% more peak power. And of course, they can tell you how much time that translates into for a 40km time trial (because you always have to know how many seconds new tech will save in a time trial): 135 seconds. That's supposedly more time saved than using aero bars, a skinsuit, or an aero helmet. Okay - obviously, I couldn't care less about performance claims. But if there is actually something to the biomechanical benefits of the movement that might benefit people with hip or knee problems, then that might be worth looking into.

(from Nikola Innovation)
There are currently two versions of the pedal - one made with stainless steel for $339, and a titanium version which sells for $549. The company claims the skating-motion pedals will benefit not only racers, but also commuters, and stationary bike users. Unless the prices come down, though, I don't imagine too many commuters seeking these out.

The Nikola pedals are definitely not something I've seen before. Time will tell if they're a success, but I do know that the pedals are getting a lot of attention in the cycling press and blogs. As with most new technologies, I'm a bit skeptical -- but having never tried them, it's hard to be too sure. Would the side-to-side movement feel natural -- or awkward? As it is, I've long happy enough with traditional toe-clip and strap pedals that I don't see myself plunking down big bucks to try to pedal like a skater. Any thoughts?

Curtis Odom - RuthWorks SF Tool Roll

$
0
0
Maker of exquisite vintage-styled hubs, and friend of the Retrogrouch Blog, Curtis Odom is giving cyclists a sneak peek at a new item -- a tool roll designed by Curtis, and made by RuthWorks SF.

The fabric on the inside has almost a whimsical splash
of color and pattern -- though when rolled up, it has a more
neutral "goes-with-any-classic-bike" look.
"I really like this item," Curtis wrote me. "I wanted to make a tool roll and thought about it a long time. I wanted a Ghurka bag quality item." The new roll hangs from the seat rail and seat post by a stainless steel backbone bar. When unrolled, it stays attached to the bike, and everything is easily accessible.

Curtis told me the first prototypes were made by Eric Hjeltness, who restores vintage Mercedes cars in Escondido, CA. Hjeltness's shop is not set up for production work, however, so he suggested Curtis talk to Ely Ruth Rodriquez, of RuthWorks SF, who is building quite a reputation as a maker of beautiful and functional bike bags. I don't currently have any of the RuthWorks bags, but I've seen some really gorgeous work and been reading very good reviews. Go to the RuthWorks website to see a range of drool-worthy bike luggage. Curtis tells me that the bag, which is just about ready for production, will likely retail for about $125. That might be dear for some, though keep in mind it is a hand-made item, and I understand the quality, like other RuthWorks bags, should be outstanding.

One thing you'll notice about the tool roll is that it attaches very compactly, tucked in between the saddle rails and the seatpost -- keeping it very narrow and unobtrusive. In that way, it reminds me a little of the way we used to cinch a spare sew-up tire under the saddle. I might suggest, though, that the roll have two ways to mount. One, in this more vertical orientation as shown, which is great for saddles that don't have bag loops, but maybe another option where it would mount horizontally, with the straps passing through the saddle's bag loops. Just a thought -- not a criticism.

By the way, if you click on over to Curtis' facebook page, you can see some other projects he's working on, including a wine stopper and corkscrew set, which should also be ready for production very soon.
The rando bike shown, which is owned by Ely of RuthWorks, was built by Winter Bicycles in Oregon. The leather saddle is by Rivet Cycle Works -- a U.S.-based maker of leather saddles and other bike accessories.
The tool roll looks like a stylish, but useful accessory, particularly for those times when someone is riding light and not needing (or wanting) to carry a load. Check with Curtis Odom, or with RuthWorks for availability.

Totally Legit 100% Guaranteed Zero-Creak Bottom Bracket

$
0
0
Much has been written, and many curses uttered, about creaking press-fit bottom brackets on expensive state-of-the-art bicycles. Here on this blog, I take an almost perverse glee in the problem. Just last month I wrote about a couple of new entries to the bottom bracket market that were supposed to silence the issue -- the BBInfinite, and the Enduro TorqTite.

Now there's another new solution that has its makers so bold and so certain of success that they promise it to be 100% Guaranteed Zero-Creak, and it comes from a company called . . . (wait for it) . . . Legit Engineering. What seems somewhat less than "legit," however, is the fact that it's impossible to find a website or any other info about the Taiwanese company. In fact, it might just be impossible to purchase one here in the U.S.

Nevertheless, Legit has a solution, and other writers are calling it "ingenious."

What's so ingenious about it?

It's a threaded bottom bracket that fits into a press-fit shell. The two halves thread together in the middle, while the flanges tightly sandwich the frame between themselves, locking it together to eliminate creak-causing movement.

Actually, the Enduro TorqTite is also a threaded bottom bracket solution -- but the Legit unit also incorporates compressible nylon rings at the flanges that are supposed to make up for any possible variables between the BB unit and the frame, and serve as a buffer to further silence the problem.

I find it hilarious that the solution for these problematic press-fit bottom brackets is to install threaded bottom brackets -- even as the industry keeps telling people that their mind-boggling myriad of press-fit BBs are so much better than the old-tech.

What's next?

My prediction:

The next and final solution to press-fit bottom bracket woes will be a fully threaded bottom bracket unit that is tightened into matching threads cut into the frame's BB shell. Carbon frames will have an aluminum shell bonded into place, with precisely machined faces, with threads cut into it. The industry will declare it "revolutionary" and treat it like something brand new. Somebody will come up with a catchy new name for it. ThreadTech™  or something similar.

Not only that, but aftermarket companies will offer products to properly and permanently convert current press-fit BB frames to the new threaded system (and I should probably patent it right now, and I'll be able to retire early)

Here's how it will work:

A machined and internally-threaded aluminum sleeve is pressed into the bottom bracket shell with a headset press. Instead of loctite, it will be coated in permanent "aerospace bonding adhesive." Don't worry about removing it later -- why would you want to remove it? It's a permanent fix. Once the threaded sleeve is bonded in place, a proper threaded bottom bracket (sorry, ThreadTech™) can be installed. It's just like what should have been done right from the start.

Now that's legit.

Death Knell for Rim Brakes?

$
0
0
The UCI, the organization which regulates professional bicycle racing, has finally "embraced" disc brakes on racing bikes -- which just might be the beginning of the end for rim brakes. It probably won't happen overnight, but now that the pros are switching over, the industry marketing machine will go into overdrive to make sure everyone makes the switch.

The UCI decision will introduce disc-brakes on a trial basis later this year as "all teams will have the opportunity to use bikes with disc brakes at two events of their choice during August and September." The testing period will continue through the 2016 racing season, and then the brakes will be introduced officially in 2017. According to the UCI announcement, "The aim is to eventually introduce disc brakes to all levels of road cycling."

Like I said, it's only a matter of time.

What I find hard to swallow in all the discussions about disc brakes, road bikes, and racing, are all the various claims being made. Take this claim from UCI President Brian Cookson: "This step is part of the UCI's desire to encourage innovation in order to ensure cycling is even more attractive for spectators, riders, bike users and broadcasters."

How exactly does this make cycling "more attractive" for spectators, or bike users? Does anybody watch bike racing and find themselves wishing that the bikes had disc brakes? Are there people out there who think, "I'd love to watch bike racing, but not until they start using disc brakes"?

As for "bike users," they've been able to get bikes with disc brakes for years now. Other than providing some kind of meaningless "validation" to their braking choice, what difference does it make if the pros used them or not?

The benefit for broadcasters is obvious. Everyone will "need" a new bike, which means more ads for the "new" and "superior" disc brakes, and the bikes equipped with them.

Of course, nobody benefits from the decision more than the makers of bikes and components. And the World Federation of the Sporting Goods Industry (WFSGI) was on hand when the UCI announcement was made earlier this month. "This decision will further develop innovation and create new possibilities for the bicycle industry as well as additional performance for the riders."

Look at some of those claims. Additional performance for the riders. Really? Apart from anecdotal evidence, I have yet to see anything that convinces me that disc brakes are remarkably better than rim brakes (which, functionally speaking, are disc brakes too). Performance in the rain is somewhat better. And one can apparently reach maximum braking with less lever effort. But the lever effort on modern rim brakes is pretty light, and the modulation is great. If the only experience one has with rim brakes is of the crummy old stamped steel calipers on steel rims of old low-budget bikes, then discs would have to look pretty amazing. Modern brakes, even some of the cheaper ones, work remarkably well. The only downsides to them are that they're light, simple, and effective.

There are other drawbacks to discs that don't get mentioned much. The components are downsized so much in an effort to reduce the weight, that overheating becomes an issue. People sometimes talk about rim brakes getting so hot on a long descent that tires could burst. That is true, but with hydraulic systems, the same scenario can result in the brake fluid boiling, leaving the user with no brakes at all. Too much heat can also warp the discs. It happens on cars with their massively thick vented brake rotors -- how can anyone argue that it doesn't happen on bikes with their tiny 1/8" (or less) thick discs?

Another issue, one that barely gets mentioned, is that disc brakes put tremendous forces on a fork at the ends where the fork is weakest, instead of near the crown where it is strongest. What this means is that the fork needs to be "beefed up" for disc brakes, making it less flexible, which in turn affects the comfort of a bike.

In the debates over disc brakes in pro racing, a claim I have heard more than a few times dealt with the danger over mixing disc and rim brakes in the same peloton. People would say that if some riders used discs while other used rim brakes, it would lead to a dangerous situation in the mountains and in the rain. Any time I've seen independent tests of brake performance, there is so little difference between rim and disc brakes that I'm convinced the concern is overblown. It makes good marketing, though.

The real issue with rim brakes in pro racing is not the brakes, but the rims. So many racers are switching (or have switched) over to carbon rims instead of aluminum -- and the braking on those, especially in the wet, is known to be lousy. It's no secret, considering that the carbon rim makers tout their best rims as having braking performance that rivals that of aluminum. That right there is probably the biggest reason for the push to disc brakes.

For most people, and in most conditions, it makes little difference.

If I were buying a new bike and it came with disc brakes, it wouldn't be a deal-killer. But nobody should get the idea that rim brakes are inferior, or necessarily obsolete. Given the simplicity of rim brakes, their solid reliability, and the versatility of having widespread brake-pad compatibility, I see no reason to make a switch. How much longer will I have the choice?

Who Needs a Power Meter?

$
0
0
Who needs a power meter?

You do, of course.

Or at least, that's what some people would like you to think. You can't pick up a bicycle magazine, or click on a bike industry cheerleading blog without reading about the latest power meter that's "guaranteed" to take your cycling up to a "new level." If you aren't measuring your watts you're just pedaling around, and what's the point of that?

Crank based, pedal mounted, or hub-based -- power meters come
in all shapes, sizes, and styles. Why limit yourself to just one?
I know that a lot of pros out there are measuring their power output, though I have no doubt that even among their ranks there are at least a few who see it as a waste of time and probably do it only to fulfill some clause in their contract. But the pros do it, so you should too. For a lot of riders out there, that's all they need to know. So they plunk down maybe another $1000 on another electronic gadget that will spit numbers at them -- numbers they can track on computer programs and combine with all the other numbers they get from their heart-rate monitors, and speed and cadence sensors -- numbers that should, if anything, just remind them that they are not professional cyclists, which is of course exactly why they don't need a power meter. What they need is to get a grip on reality.

Maybe they spend so much time watching their performance numbers that they forget to look at the numbers in their credit card statements?

You can never have too much data.
The funny thing, though, is that to the performance addicts for whom this stuff seems important, $1000 is a "bargain" for a tool that they believe will give them an edge, no matter how small and meaningless. If they're a mid-pack-finishing Cat. 4 racer, they're still going to be a mid-pack-finishing Cat. 4. Measuring increasingly intricate data won't change that. Or if they're really successful they might temporarily bump somebody out of a Strava ranking. Temporarily.

Searching around various bike blogs, I've found examples of performance addicts for whom having just one power meter wasn't enough. For something as important as measuring watts, you can't necessarily trust one type of meter to give you the most complete performance picture. You need meters of different types so you can compare the results. Get the numbers from the crank, then compare them with the numbers measured at the hub. Crunch the numbers through a computer program. Add in heart rate and everything else, and guess what? You're still an amateur, but an amateur with a lot less money.

I liked this quote from one of the blogs, Why You Need A Power Meter: "So why should you get a power meter? The short answer is that you simply are more likely to achieve your race goals by training -- and racing-- with a power meter than without. It is the most affective (sic) tool you can get to go faster on a bike."

In fact, that blogger would recommend a power meter over "fast wheels" -- "every time.""When it comes to speed the engine is always the most important part. A power meter will help you develop a bigger one. With sleek wheels you still have a small engine."

Except that for the performance addicts, it's not a question of one or the other. It's both -- or all of the above. It's the $1000 power meter and the $3000 wheels. The $6000(+) bike. It's the heart-rate monitor. The computer programs. The off-season stationary trainer. The dietary supplements. Oh, the humanity.

Ultimately, with all this data -- the obsession with numbers and incrementally miniscule (and meaningless) performance gains -- a bicycle just becomes a really expensive training device, and gets farther and farther away from what makes a bicycle great.

My advice? Forget about watts. Unplug and just enjoy the ride.

Video: Campagnolo Revolution

$
0
0
I saw this little promotional video from Campagnolo a couple days ago that really caught my eye: The Revolution Continues. The concept is cool, the music is energetic, it has some intriguing camerawork, and it features some really awesome vintage bikes. As commercials go, it's almost more like a short movie.

The concept of the video is that we see a rider on a Campy-equipped bike riding through gorgeous Italian countryside -- as well as through time itself. His bike, his Campy components, and his clothing keep changing, or evolving, as he rides.

The rider starts out on a 1940s-era Bianchi with Cambio Corsa shifting. You get a nice drive side view of the bike and the shifting system -- though you don't actually see the rider shift gears with it, which I think would have been a great touch.
Close-up of the twin levers of the Cambio Corsa, identified as being from 1946.
The rider, with his Bianchi wool jersey and a spare tire wrapped around his shoulders, passes the mysterious gentleman leaning against a car, reading a newspaper. . .
Who is this mystery man?
The rider stops to fill a waterbottle. . .
And when he comes back, he discovers his bike has changed. What are these levers on my downtube?
It's now 1951, and the bike is another Bianchi, this time with a Gran Sport parallelogram derailleur -- the granddaddy of Campy's derailleur designs for the next 35 years or so.
One of those unusual camera shots.
Stopping by woods for a "natural break."
The mystery man appears . . . 
. . . and leaves a calling card of sorts. By the way, that must be a really early version of the Campagnolo cone wrench. I've got several, some which might be as old as 1970s, but none looks quite like this one.
The rider comes back to his bike and finds it replaced by a Colnago with the full Campy. . .
. . . And a new jersey. 
I have to question the video's dates at this point. The video says Gruppo Record 1963. It's true that Record was introduced in '63 -- but this really looks like Nuovo Record, which was introduced in '67 (with modified chainrings on the crank). I'm thinking that the Colnago is more like '70s, or even '80s vintage, as well.
There's the tell. Campagnolo completed their gruppo with the addition of brakes in 1968. But this is a short-reach Super Record brake with other details (script logo, domed quick-release lever) that say early '80s. Oh well.
Another water stop, and the rider transforms with a really bad mustache (in what era would that have been stylish? Maybe in Italy?) and a new jersey . . .

. . . While the bike transforms into a Super Record-equipped Atala. Super Record was introduced in the '70s, so I'm not sure why they chose to highlight 1983. But it's a good period choice.
The rider continues on in his Atala team kit and bike -- still being watched by the mystery man.

. . . Who is now following in a VW Microbus.
The rider transforms again into lycra kit, on a bike that looks like a pretty generic aluminum and carbon-fiber machine. At this point, the Retrogrouch stops being interested in the bikes.

On the close-up, we see 10-speed Super Record. Still don't know what the bike is -- don't really care, either.
I can't identify the team jersey at this point -- but I really think it says "Gran Fondo." He rides into a tunnel, and when he reemerges back into the light . . .
. . . His bike is transformed into a carbon fiber Trek with 11-speed Super Record. Odd, because I'm not aware of Trek offering bikes with Campagnolo (I could be wrong).
At the top of the climb, we see the mystery man, surrounded by Campagnolo support people. I still don't know who the mystery man is -- I know he isn't Valentino Campagnolo. Maybe he just represents a visual personification of the Campagnolo name, identity, or "presence" -- like some kind of visual metaphor? 

They present the rider with a new bike. A pretty generic-looking carbon fiber frame, loaded up with the latest Campy Super Record parts.
I still think that's a really ugly crank.
The rider at this point pulls on a Europcar team jersey -- and actually changes into a completely different person -- I presume a member of the team. I'm having to declare ignorance here, as I don't know who it is. The only Europcar rider I would recognize is Thomas Voeckler, and this ain't him. Also, I find it odd that it focuses on Europcar, since last I heard, they were denied their WorldTour license for 2015
A few odd choices, and maybe some questionable dates, but the overall effect was kind of fun to watch. You can watch the complete video, which is linked here to YouTube:


Enjoy!

Cool Vintage Bits: Specialites TA Pocket Flasks

$
0
0
That's the model #150 on the left, and the #300 on the right.
The numbers tell how much they hold in ml.
While looking through a bin of vintage bike stuff in my basement, I came upon these two fun little flasks. Made by Specialites T.A. in France, I've sometimes heard of these things referred to as "bonk bottles." They were available in two sizes, fit into a jersey pocket, and were stoppered with corks. I don't know when they started making them, but I do know they were listed in catalogs at least into the early 1980s. The bottles are made with a T.A. chainring logo molded into the side.

The bottles don't hold much liquid. The larger is listed at 30 cl (centiliters) or 300 ml -- which is only 10 oz. The smaller bottle holds half that much. That being the case, they wouldn't serve much purpose as regular water bottles, which is, I believe, where the "bonk bottle" name comes into play.

An old catalog image. I've never
actually seen one with that exact
logo on it, though.
The way I've heard it, riders would mix various concoctions to put into the little flasks -- recipes designed to give a little boost during a long ride, fight the bonk, and relieve fatigue. At the most benign, it would probably be some kind of glucose and/or electrolyte boost. One such recipe I've read about (though I cannot remember where) involved about a half a can of Coca-Cola and a couple of crushed up aspirin dissolved into it. A less benign variation might have also included some kind of amphetamine added to the mix. That would not be recommended for a long hot ride up Mont Ventoux, by the way (actually, I wouldn't recommend amphetamine use under any circumstances).

Nowadays, lots of people use glucose supplements and the like for long rides. If it weren't for the fact that many of those boost products come pre-packaged in little disposable packets, I'd think that mini-flasks such as these should be quite popular. In fact, I've sometimes seen long-distance runners using "marathon belts" -- like utility belts that would hold a couple little flasks that are almost like a modern version of these bonk bottles. They'll mix up their GU (yeah, that's one of the brands) with some water and keep the little bottles in the utility belt. Doesn't quite have the vintage style factor going for it like these old TA flasks have, though.

This little guy easily fits into a jersey pocket.
I recall that I had three of these at one point, though I don't remember how I came to possess that many. But I'm pretty sure that I gave one of them away as a Christmas gift to the mechanic at my local bike shop who always gave my projects a bit of special attention. Like me, he was a noted fan of vintage bikes and gear. Always be good to your mechanics. A six-pack of some good craft brew was generally welcome, too. I never had to wait for repairs when he was there.

I've never actually used the bottles, but I hang on to them for much the same reason that I hang on to things like old leather helmets. Just an interesting bit of vintage cycling ephemera -- a display item, or a conversation piece. Maybe one of these days, I'll get to take part in one of those Eroica rides on one of my vintage Mercians, wearing a classic wool jersey and leather helmet (hmm. . . maybe not the helmet), and one of these little flasks tucked in a jersey pocket. No amphetamines in my recipe, though.

Modern Bike Problems: Campagnolo Ultra-Torque

$
0
0
Pedal, kerChunk, pedal, kerChunk, pedal, kerChunk.

I could feel and hear the "kerChunk" with each revolution -- every time the pedal rounded the 6 o'clock position. It was a little disconcerting, but I knew exactly what was happening. The curse of Ultra-Torque. I've spent lots of time talking about the problems associated with press-fit bottom brackets, I thought today I'd share another bottom bracket issue, but this time, one which even crops up on threaded systems.

The Ultra-Torque crank spindle is comprised of two half-shafts
that are joined together in the middle with a Hirth joint.
Back around 2006 or so, Campagnolo introduced its answer to Shimano's Hollowtech II BB with outboard bearings - which they dubbed the Ultra-Torque system. Comprised of two half-shafts that join together in the middle with a very cool Hirth joint and a single large-diameter bolt, the system consists of some impressive engineering. Hirth joints require complex machining to manufacture, but they are very strong and are used in things like aircraft engine shafts and turbines. Great -- so what's the problem? In those other high-tech applications, the manufacturing tolerances are much better and more controllable than they are in the bicycle industry. In this application, however, Campagnolo can make its cranks to very tight tolerances, but unfortunately they cannot control the tolerances of the bicycle frames into which they will be installed. That in itself is one of the reasons that press-fit BB systems have been so problematic. Even with threaded bottom brackets, there can be certain variables which can affect fit, but most traditional systems have a means to compensate or adjust for those variables effectively.

Here's the non-drive half shaft. It's really a beautifully machined
 piece of equipment, but there may be a problem in the application.
In frames with threaded bottom brackets, the bore of the shell and its threading can be tightly controlled to industry standards. However, the exact width of that shell can vary ever so slightly. A standard British/ISO bottom bracket shell should measure 68 mm wide, or 70 mm for an Italian threaded frame, and the faces of that shell should ideally be perfectly parallel. In reality, the width of those shells could vary by a millimeter or more, or by minute fractions of a millimeter. Even in steel frames with investment cast bottom brackets, there can be a slight variation. And it's not always due to a flaw in the manufacturing necessarily. A BB shell that starts off at the proper spec will be narrowed slightly if a facing tool is applied. But in most cases -- in practice -- that tiny difference in width is not a problem. That's why most traditional threaded bottom brackets have at least one adjustable cup. Phil Wood's excellent cartridge BBs have two adjustable cups, and work perfectly well even if the shell faces are not perfectly parallel. Even with Shimano's Hollowtech system, there is a means for adjusting for those tiny variations in width. But the Ultra-Torque has a rigidly defined shaft width with no effective means for adjustment on frames that might not have such exact tolerances.
Joined together, the two halves of the Hirth joint look like this,
held together in the middle with a large diameter bolt.
So, how does the system accommodate tiny variations in frame shell width? By use of a "wave washer."
To accommodate slight variations in BB shell width, the
Ultra-Torque system uses this "wave washer." It is less than
ideal for the task. (photo from Park Tool)

I suppose that washer is supposed to act almost like a spring to keep the system under proper load laterally. In practice, it doesn't seem to be up to the task. When installed into most frames, even those conforming to Campagnolo's defined specifications (their installation instructions listed an acceptable range from 67.2 mm to 68.8 mm for British/ISO frames), one can physically move the crank laterally in the frame. When pedaling, sometimes this movement can present itself, resulting in a "knock" or that kerChunk that I described earlier. Apparently, Campagnolo's engineers say that this lateral movement is not a problem and that it should not present itself when pedaling. Many rabid Campagnolo fans echo that sentiment, and deny there is any issue. "It's Campagnolo," they'll say -- "how could there possibly be anything wrong?" Some will point to the strength of the Hirth joint, and hail it for its high-tech turbine applications, which is actually irrelevant to this issue. It would be hard to find anybody who is a bigger Campy fan than I am, but realistically, I think there is an engineering problem here.

The issue was first brought to light in 2008 by John Satory, the bicycle mechanic and blogger known as "RogueMechanic." This guy has been on a one-man crusade about the Ultra-Torque issue, has had several conflicts with Campagnolo over it, and has even received hate mail about it.

The thing is, it's quite possible that some people would never notice a problem when riding. If a frame's actual width measures at the wider end of the acceptable specifications, it's possible that the lateral movement would be negated. Maybe some people have such unbelievably smooth pedal strokes that it never presents itself on the road. It's also possible that some people aren't as sensitive to the knocking and therefore don't notice it. Or perhaps some notice it, but don't know to what to attribute it (I've seen where people have attributed the problem to bad bearings, pedals, shoes/cleats, and more).

I installed the Ultra-Torque crank and bottom bracket onto one of my bikes some time back. I was impressed by the engineering, and what seemed to be an unbelievably simple installation (no bearing adjustment whatsoever). After a couple thousand miles, I started to detect that kerChunk. I asked a local mechanic about it, and learned that Campy was aware that some people might have that issue (though apparently, they still consider it a non-issue) and suggested using a second wave washer to solve it. We tried that, and it seemed to settle the problem. I could still produce the lateral movement of the crank when the bike was on the stand, but it did not seem to present itself when riding -- for a while, that is. A couple more thousand miles, and I started to notice it again. Faintly at first. Gradually, it got worse. Pedal, kerChunk, pedal, kerChunk.

The Ultra-Torque shim kit, from RogueMechanic.
Researching it online, I discovered the RogueMechanic site and figured out the reason for what I was sensing. Luckily, Satory had come up with a good, solid solution to the problem. Get rid of the wave washer, and instead use shims to properly space the bearing cups to eliminate the lateral play. He has had shim kits made that he will install for his clients, or which he sells online for home mechanics. The shim kit consists of 2 shims each in 1.0 mm, 0.5 mm, 0.2 mm, and 0.1 mm.  I purchased the shim kit for $45 and watched his video instructions on how to best install them. I'm glad I watched the video, as there is a definite system to determining the best combination of shims that would eliminate any lateral play, but at the same time, did not cause any binding. Installing the shims wasn't difficult, but it was time consuming, and I'll add that having a pair of digital calipers is really helpful. Even with the calipers, there is still a fair amount of "trial and error" to determining the best number and combination of shims. Ultimately, I ended up using about 1.2 mm worth of spacers to eliminate play, which is just a shade (not a technical term) thicker than the pair of wave washers that I removed from the setup. Since the operation, out on the road, the crank feels like it should, with no knocking. No clicking. No kerChunks. We'll see how it holds up over time, but I have to say that RogueMechanic's assessment of the problem seems spot on to me, and I'm convinced the solution is correct as well.
It's a little tough to see, but that's the left-side Ultra-Torque
cup with about 1.2 mm of shims.

It's worth pointing out that press-fit bottom brackets aren't the only ones that present problems that shouldn't be problems, though it's also notable that Shimano's Hollowtech BB system has more adjustment designed into it. But luckily, with the threaded frame and cups, it seems to me that fixing the problem is at least fairly straightforward. I can also say that I'm glad I don't have the press-fit version of the Ultra-Torque. Perhaps one could still make adjustments for width using shims, but I can only imagine that press-fit would only compound the issues. Still, when I think about the fact that I've got a Phil Wood bottom bracket on my Rivendell with about 15 years and I-don't-even-know-how-many miles on it (still feels as slick as butter), could somebody remind me exactly what was wrong with a good old fashioned square-taper bottom bracket?

Jobst Brandt: Loss of an Icon

$
0
0
Jobst Brandt, a tremendously influential person to the cycling world, died this week, on Tuesday, May 5th, at the age of 80.

A mechanical engineer with impressive credentials (Porsche, Hewlett Packard, Stanford Linear Accelerator), he was something of an outsider to the bicycling industry, which allowed him to speak freely about tech issues and other problems he observed. He could be very outspoken. But he did contribute to the industry in numerous ways, and particularly through his work with Avocet, where he helped to develop their "slick" tread tires (they were dubbed Fasgrip, and they were good) as well as their cycling computer (the first, last, and only computer I ever used on a bike).
Probably one of the most iconic images of Jobst Brandt. It appeared in ads in all 
the bike magazines in the '80s for Avocet's slick tires, which he had helped to develop.
To cyclists on the West Coast, the rides he led around the Bay Area -- known as "Jobst Rides"-- were legendary. Usually 100 miles or more, and covering all kinds of terrain, the rides left many seasoned riders struggling and gasping. Reportedly he thought nothing of going down steep, rocky trails on his huge 27-in. road bike (the guy was 6' 6") with road tires, and few could keep up. He was also known for his regular tours of the Alps, which were typically well-documented in ride reports with plenty of breathtaking photos. (see HERE)

This oft-published photo of Jobst on the Gavia
Pass was turned into a poster sold through
Palo Alto Bicycles.
Many other cyclists around the country and around the world got to feel as though they knew Jobst, even if they never met him, through his writing and his frequent contributions to the once-thriving Usenet group rec.bicycles.tech. I was one of those who never met Jobst, at least not in person, but I did have occasional email conversations with him on tech issues, and I was always amazed at how quickly and thoroughly he responded to my messages and questions, despite what I'm sure was a very busy schedule. I really wish I could have have gotten his take on the Campagnolo Ultra-Torque issue (or non-issue, depending on whom you believe) that I wrote about recently, but I have a feeling he'd have seen a shortcoming in that design. Many of Jobst's old posts to the Usenet are archived and can be found HERE or HERE.

Jobst had a rare quality (I believe) as a mechanical engineer in that he not only had an incredible understanding of engineering and mechanical principles, but he also had an uncanny ability to explain them clearly to non-engineers with his commanding use of the English language. It's a testament to his writing ability that one of his jobs for Porsche was to translate their technical manuals into English -- a job he practically created himself because he was dissatisfied with the manuals as they were.

Another testament to his ability to put his engineering knowledge into clear instruction is his book The Bicycle Wheel, which many consider to be the Bible of the subject. Although one could use the book simply as a reference guide for building a wheel, it is actually much more. I've read the book cover-to-cover (twice) and won't build a wheel without reviewing it.

I don't know if it would be appropriate to call Jobst Brandt a retrogrouch (though I'm certain people did), and I don't know how he would have felt to be labeled as such. But I do know that many a self-proclaimed retrogrouch felt a kinship with him, and interpreted his views as testament to the cause. For one thing, like a good engineer, he took a conservative approach to new technology, was fiercely dismissive of marketing hyperbole, and generally favored designs that were simple, proven, and cost-effective.

Right after learning about his death, I pulled out an interview Jobst gave with Grant Petersen for the Rivendell Reader (RR-6). In it, he talked about such topics as . . .

Mountain bikes:

"Most of the MTB's I see are not ridden anywhere where they have an advantage. Tourists who never ride in mud ride thousands of miles on knobby tires and in a riding position that is inefficient for road riding."

Road bikes:

"It is the poseurs who have seriously damaged the road bike, with their attention to unobtanium, 27-speed gearing and disc wheels, none of which has anything to do with bicycle riding."

Tight geometry and ultra-short wheelbases:

"Excuses such as 'quick steering' and 'responsive' are used to cover the quirky handling of these bicycles."

Shifting gears:

"I use down tube shifters (seldom) and use a 6-speed freewheel because 5-speeds are dead. . . I'm not preoccupied with always being in the right gear or following some unwritten precepts on cadence and the like. I ride a gear that's about right and leave it at that. . . The range of gears hasn't changed much in the last 50 years, only the number of gears in that range. I don't believe they are useful, necessary, or any good for the design of the rear wheel. Five or six is plenty, nine is gratuitous hardware and multiple redundancy."

He sometimes ruffled feathers. He sometimes left people stinging when they made claims they couldn't support with facts and evidence. "He didn't suffer fools" was something I've heard many people say.

Three of the Retrogrouch's icons. (left to right) Sheldon Brown,
Grant Petersen, and Jobst Brandt in 2006. (photo from Sheldon Brown's site)
Back in January 2011 (I've read that it was on his 76th birthday), Jobst Brandt was injured in a bicycle crash that, combined with other issues, left him debilitated. It isn't clear what happened, but it appeared to have been a single-bicycle accident. Though some helmet proselytizers would have wanted to use the accident as more evidence supporting helmet use, Brandt, who was well known not to wear one and an outspoken critic against the near-religious fervor that surrounds them, would certainly have chafed at that. Reportedly, it was a stroke he suffered while in the hospital, rather than the crash, that left him unable to write any more. It seemed like such a loss then, made all the more permanent and real now.

Between Sheldon Brown in 2008, and now Jobst Brandt, I feel like I've lost two of my icons.

Bike Safety 101: Just Like A Car

$
0
0
With a title that reminds young viewers about who really controls the roads, the bicycle safety film Just Like A Car echoes other vintage car-centric educational titles like Bicycle Today Automobile Tomorrowand Drive Your Bike. Like many of these old films that I've examined in the Bike Safety 101 series, Just Like a Car, produced in 1972 by Film Loops, Inc., is definitely a reflection of its time. But in many ways it is also different in its tone and its presentation than some of the other films I've discussed here.

For one thing, throughout much of the film there is very little narration, or even much talking of any kind. Unlike the Sid Davis films such as The Bicycle Clown, orBicycle Today Automobile Tomorrow, Just Like A Car does without the judgemental or condescending monotonal narrator. Unlike films such as Drive Your Bike, this one mostly does away with stiff and overly scripted dialogue. Instead, the film instructs mainly through visual imagery, sound effects, and music -- often really cheesy music with instructional lyrics. But the film manages to avoid some of the preachiness that overpowers so many other bike safety films, and instead shows biking to be fun (there's a shocker!) while also emphasizing a certain amount of due caution when sharing the road with cars.

The film opens with a shot of an open road, with the roaring sound of a high-performance engine -- maybe a muscle car. The camera pans and zooms, as if trying to locate the speeding car. We see something approaching in the distance, just cresting a little hill . . . is it a Mustang? Corvette? . . . No. . .

. . . It's a girl -- racing down the road on her Schwinn Varsity. Her hair is blowing behind her, and she looks like she's having a blast.

Cue the very '70s music:

♫ "I'm back on the road again, I've been travelin' (on my bicycle). I've turned every curve and bend, I've been travelin' (me and my bicycle). But you know where I go, what I see, is a world tellin' me you're alone, on your own and you've got to be watchin' out for yourself and be thinkin' constantly. 'Cause you know your bike is just like a car. Got to take it like you know who you are. If you want to be a rebel a while, ridin' in style, open your eyes and you'll see. Just like a car. . ."  Ok -- you should watch out for yourself, but wouldn't it be nice if someone instructed drivers to spend at least some of their time looking out for us, too?
Next follows a montage that shows, among other things, an evolution of bikes and cars, as well as lots of goofy clips from old silent-era films showing bikes and cars behaving badly.

Then comes a segment that alternately shows a series of kids on bikes, and people in cars, as they slow down for pedestrians, stop for signs, signal for turns, etc. -- all following the same rules of the road. No narration - just the familiar opening notes from Beethoven's 5th repeating, played on horns and bicycle bells.
♫ Ba Ba Ba BUM ♫ (that's supposed to be Beethoven's 5th if you can't tell).
The little girl signals with her bell before stopping for the old lady who steps into the road without looking.
Lots of groovy old Sting-Rays and banana-seat bikes.
Here, a very observant boy sees a ball rolling into the street from behind the parked car. He correctly predicts an unseen child may follow right behind -- so he signals a stop for the car behind him, then stops for the girl. Realistically speaking, I think it would be really hard to signal and still be able to stop in time. 
The full orchestration of Beethoven's 5th cues up for a busy city scene. Visually and musically, the busy city traffic becomes a symphony of sorts.

As usual, we get the message that bicycles should stop at intersections and walk across. Maybe bikes aren't "Just Like A Car" after all.

Here's one of the few bits of narration in the film: "When there's more than one person on the road, you've got to communicate." Which is followed by a clip from an old Charlie Chaplin film showing an argument that turns into a pie fight. I guess the message is that when it comes to traffic, the potential for conflict is always there. Or that people on the roads often act like children. Or, maybe that if you anger drivers of cars, they might hit you with a pie.


The narration continues (briefly): "Sometimes other people don't want to communicate with you. Then you've got to watch out for yourself."

"Defense. It's all defense," the narrator says. With the scene from a basketball game, we hear the crowd chanting "DE-Fense, DE-Fense, DE-Fense. . ."

Cut over to the kid on his bike, scanning the road for cars. . . 

"DE-Fense, DE-Fense . . ."
He starts to pull out, only to change his mind and exit the road quickly when he sees an absolutely homicidal driver speeding his way in a station wagon.
The homicidal psychopath swerves and weaves at high speed, right where the boy would have been had he not escaped - then speeds off, running through a stop sign. Actually, I love the fact that the film leaves the impression that sometimes drivers really are @$$holes.
The crowd cheers. The kid seems surprisingly relaxed considering that some psychopath just tried to turn him into a hood ornament. Just another friendly day in the neighborhood.
Again we hear the crowd from the basketball game chanting "DE-fense, DE-Fense. . ." The boy scans the road all around. . .
. . . That Chevy behind him is bearing down on him pretty good.
Suddenly another jack@$$ throws his door open into traffic. The kid is ready and takes impressive evasive action. Knowing how close the Chevy is behind him, he takes a hard right and skids to a stop in a driveway.
The Chevy that was following close behind slams on the brakes. I'd have enjoyed seeing him tear the  idiot's door off with his car. It would be a good lesson for motorists, too.
And the crowd goes wild! "DE-Fense DE-Fense!"
The next sequence has another song with cheesy instructional lyrics:

"When I'm ridin' down the street, everywhere I go I meet some signs tryin' to tell me somethin'. At every corner, every bend it seems as though there's just no end to those signs always trying to tell me somethin'  
♫ Now when I ride I get to feelin' free and clear, don't you? And it's not always pleasant being told what I should do. But when I see a sign ahead I read it through and through. Wanna know why? It's tryin' to tell me somethin'.♫ 
♫ "If you want your freedom and you think that you don't need 'em, remember there's times they'll keep you livin'." 
As a goofy recap to the lessons of the film, there's an after-ride interview in the locker room. Yeah, it's corny, and I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but it did get me to chuckle a little.
"This is Woody Woodford with the post-race show brought to you by Zip toothpaste. Welcome Bob, that was quite a ride. Tell us, Bob, the secret to your riding success. Is it because you use Zip toothpaste?"

Umm, No. Bob explains that he has a good bike and he keeps it in top condition (a bike safety film staple). He goes on, "I keep my eyes on the road, and I always have a good defense."



They go back to the "instant replay" to review some of Bob's skills (like that impressive evasive move where a less attentive rider would have been doored). The message here is actually pretty good advice I think for anyone who shares the road with cars. "Anticipation," Bob tells us. "Thinking. Scanning. Looking around. You've got to expect the worst and figure out the angles. You can never tell when a car door is going to pop open in front of you. . . You've got to look out for yourself out there. Nobody else will." The interview sequence, like a lot in the movie, is pretty corny, but as far as the advice goes, I have to admit, I often think the same thing when I'm out there riding in traffic. An old friend of mine, who had spent time as a bike messenger, took it further and used to operate under the assumption that the other traffic was actively trying to kill him.


I said earlier that the film mostly manages to avoid the stern preachiness of some other safety films I've discussed. Then you get this guy:
"Most accidents are caused by people who don't obey the rules. Please, be a responsible driver. It's the best way to stay alive. Remember, a bike is just like a car."Except when it isn't. The nice thing is that he could just as easily be directing his remarks to motorists as to cyclists.
Wrapping up the film, we've seen lots of examples of kids riding the "right way" (notice that you never see adults riding in these movies -- wouldn't that have been a shocker?) so it's time to see a kid on the path to imminent destruction.

This kid, on another Schwinn Varsity, races along the road without watching for hazards, ignoring signs and signals, zipping around cars, brushing past pedestrians -- all the while the film speeds up, the scenes whizz by in a blur, the music speeds up to a fast paced garble, until the inevitable conclusion. . .
. . . A truck pulls out right in front of him, leaving him to skid to a stop just in time. Whew! That was a close one.
Followed by another quick editing sequence from silent-era movies of car accidents and bike crashes.


Okay - the kid lives to ride another day, maybe a little wiser for his experience. Cue up the cheesy music from the intro again. . .
"Know what you're doin', watch where you're goin'. You're on your own but you're never alone on the road. Lookin' out for you is the ultimate rule and you're playin' it cool. Don't you know your bicycle is just like a car. Got to take it like you know who you are. . ."
It has such a '70s vibe.

You can check out Just Like A Car right here - courtesy YouTube:


Enjoy!

ZhERO, My Hero.

$
0
0
My Hero.
There's a new "secret weapon" out there to make you faster than you ever knew you could be. In fact, this revolutionary "secret weapon" earns you more speed with no additional effort, simply by tackling a problem that is so huge that most people probably had no idea it was a problem -- hub lag. That's just how outside the box the creators of the ZhERO hub are. And keep in mind that people who think outside the box don't say things like "outside the box." Given that I've just said "outside the box" four times in three sentences, I believe I have just placed myself squarely inside the box.

One of the first things you'll notice about the hub is its quirky-clever name. ZhERO. Kind of like "Zero - My Hero." How wonderful you are.


Caution: The song kind of sticks with you.

All kidding aside. This hub will revolutionize the bicycle. It makes you faster. Not just faster, but much faster. I know this because they say so in their Kickstarter ad. Just take it from Ed O'Neill, TV's Al Bundy:

See how fast the word "faster" looks in italics? If that ain't proof then I just don't know what is.
By the way, I loved this guy on Married With Children.

So, how does the ZhERO hub deliver power you didn't even know you had in you? By eliminating that annoying, power-robbing "lag" when you transition from "power off" to "power on" -- that is, from coasting to pedaling. You see, most other rear hubs have as much as 10 degrees of lag (or even more -- I'm looking at YOU Campagnolo!) from the moment you start to pedal to when the power actually gets applied to the rear wheel. Here are some numbers:

And here's what it looks like:
Every millimeter counts.

And here are some graphs that prove everything:


Notice that the graph line marked "time" doesn't actually indicate any specific units of measurement. Are we talking minutes, seconds, milliseconds, millenia? But the red line clearly "lags" about 11 behind the white line. Can't argue with that.
Oddly enough, there is NO mention, no pictures, no graphics of any kind that give an indication of how the makers have come up with a freewheeling hub that has no lag, considering that lag is simply a function of how any ratcheting mechanism works. The "lag" is a direct result of the size of the teeth in the ratchet. Do they use really tiny teeth? And if so, how durable can they be? Or is it some kind of spring-loaded friction clutch? There isn't even a hint.

The Aussie company that makes the ZhERO has no less a celebrity retired bicycle racer to endorse them than Australian Robbie McEwen. He has 3 x Green Jersey's, by the way. (And no, that is not how one uses an apostrophe.)

"Throughout mah career Ahve ridden just about every wheel tahpe that's ever been made." (those aren't typos - that's just mah lame attempt at capturing McEwen's accent)

McEwen stresses that those 10 degrees of lag -- which can be as much as 4 mm (!) -- are 10 degrees that you're missing out on when you could be generating powah. McEwen adds that that powah is coming on all the way through the pedal stroke, even when your foot's at 12 o'clock. Nevermind that nobody is getting much power to the pedals at the 12 o'clock/6 o'clock position, and it isn't because of hub lag. It's just the basic physics of a bicycle crank. No - if you're truly serious about eliminating the "dead spots" in the pedal stroke, you need one of those Dpardo Sickle Cranks, or some Cranktip swing-arm pedals. Maybe throw in some oval chainrings, too. There's no shortage of questionable technology with promises of huge performance gains that can separate the performance addict from his money.
"This is going to revolutionize cycling."
"Whether you're climbing, or sprinting, or riding a time trial -- I see big differences there, too." Says McEwen. "Teams talk about going for marginal gains, finding every improvement in performance . . . Well, this isn't just a marginal gain. This is going to revolutionize cycling as far as drivetrains go."

See that? We're not just talking "marginal gains" here -- we're talking MILLIMETERS, people! Actually, I think this pretty much defines the term "marginal gains."

Lest you think that the ZhERO hubs only give a racer a few millimeters of an advantage, the company also claims all kinds of biomechanical and medical benefits, too. For example, you know that terrible shock that shoots through your legs and back every time you apply power to the pedals and the torque takes those several millimeters to to take hold? It can be debilitating. . . Okay, not really. But the makers of the ZhERO hub claim it "eliminates the shock of lock up through your muscles and joints."

"Your muscles are switched on earlier with each pedal stroke forcing both legs to work as one. Hill climbing you can dance from pedal to pedal equally without experiencing any form of lag, one experienced rider liken (sic) it to running on the bike." The only "lag" I've noticed when climbing is my legs when I'm dead tired at the end of a long ride and still have to get up that 18% grade of a hill to get home. And why would somebody compare it to "running on the bike" when a more natural simile would be that it feels like riding a fixed-gear?

And it's not just for racers, either. "From a Social rider to Road racing, Triathlete, TT specialist or Criterium the mechanical precision that the ZhERO brings will increase your endurance, performance & all round wellbeing on the bike." (really Questionable capitalization in that Sentence, by The way). I'm glad to know that the ZhERO hub will improve my wellbeing. That's perhaps the most unusual claim I've heard applied to a bicycle component.

McEwen isn't the only endorser of the ZhERO hub. There are also several triathletes you've never heard of who can attest to how this hub will change your life:

"Having tested the ZhERO & knowing that it takes 54,000 pedal strokes to complete the 180ks bike leg in a Ironman" (but who's counting?) "it is a no brainer for me I'd choose the ZhERO hub ever (sic) time because not only am I more efficient on the bike, my legs would be more balanced, less fatigued & fresher for the 42ks run."

Another says, "Having tested, trained & raced on the ZhERO from its early conception it's been a secret weapon that I would NEVER start a race without. The gain in efficency (sic) has only enhanced my cycling & triathlon career."

From conception? Okay.

Remember: Fred-dom begins at conception.

The Other Commuter

$
0
0
As I make my way along the road to work, I am inevitably the only one on a bicycle for the whole 13-mile stretch from Akron to Medina. My morning commute takes me from the urban streets of Akron, through suburban shopping plazas, fast food chains, and malls of Fairlawn and Bath, and eventually out to the rural spaces of Medina County. I mostly stick to OH-18, which is the main thoroughfare between Akron and its somewhat quaint, smaller neighbor to the west.
Google says the route should take 1 h 13 min by bike. I typically
average about 15 mph, so I make it in about 50 min. BTW that
big patch of green on the upper right section is the southern tip
of the Cuyahoga Valley National Park -- our local cycling Mecca.

I like to be heading out the door by 6:00 am, when traffic is still very light. It's dark when I leave, though now that it's May, it is light by the time I arrive at work. I do have to negotiate the Interstate 77 interchange, which can be a little dodgy by the time I get to it, and then the remainder of the way, OH-18 becomes practically like a freeway, but there's an extra-wide shoulder, and I just get over to the far right and let the traffic go by until I turn off on a near-deserted farm-country backroad. I'm normally a "take the lane" rider, but when the traffic is flying by at 55 mph, I figure they can keep it. In the afternoon, for the ride home, there is a lot more traffic on the main road, so I take a different route -- choosing backroads over the main thoroughfare. It adds a couple of miles and a bunch more hills, but I'm less pressed for time, and I feel a little more comfortable.

As I said, I'm usually the only cyclist on the road at that time. But this day, some weeks ago, as looked ahead, I thought maybe I saw a faint flash of red in the distance. Maybe I was mistaken, or I misinterpreted a car taillight. A little later, I saw it again. Flashing red. A bike taillight for sure. Another commuter?

I hate to admit it, but I'm a bit of a Cat. 6-er when it comes to seeing other cyclists on the road ahead, even though it never happens on my morning commute. Despite my consciously telling myself to ignore the rider down the road, subconsciously the other rider often becomes like the rabbit in a dog race, and I start pedaling a little harder. Whether it was due to a little extra Cat. 6 effort, or I was just naturally pushing a faster pace, I could see that I was gradually closing the distance between myself and the other commuter. As I got closer, I could begin to see the commuting-cyclist "uniform": day-glo yellow vest, reflective accents, flashing beacons.

Who was this guy? Where was he headed? Why haven't I ever seen him before?

Crossing the county line, I was within about 100 yards behind him, and closing. 50 yards. 20 yards. Just as I made it up to within a couple bike lengths behind has back wheel, I got to my turn off the main route and on to the back road while he continued going straight. I didn't even manage a decent "g'morning."

It just happened the one time, and I haven't seen him since. Was he just trying out bike commuting for the first time, and decided it wasn't his thing? Was he only cycling to work because his car was in the shop? Or does he ride regularly, and maybe I just caught him on an odd day when he was out at something other than his usual time? Who knows.

It's National Bike To Work Day, but around here it's hard to tell. Aside from this one little chance encounter, from what I can see around my area I'm usually the only bike on the road.

Smart Locks for Dumb People

$
0
0
How hard is it to not lose a key? Or to find your bike after you've parked it? Are bike locks really such hassle that tech startups have to keep reinventing them?
I approve of the old Peugeot.

The latest is the Noke U-Lock, from FŪZ, which promises to eliminate "the hassle and frustration of lost keys and forgotten combinations."

The U-lock is a follow-up product from the company's Noke Padlock which was fully funded on Kickstarter. The U-lock had a similarly successful funding campaign -- which means there are a lot of people out there who are apparently too inept to use a key. Either that, or they are so dependent on their smart phones that they can't imagine performing any task, no matter how simple or mundane, without the use of some app.

Like other "smart" locks out there, the Noke works with Bluetooth smartphones. It requires a battery that needs to be recharged from time to time. The maker points out that a charge will last a long, long time -- but does that really matter if someone fails to keep it charged adequately and ends up with an un-openable lump of hardened steel holding their bike to a rack somewhere? Actually, shouldn't happen since the lock also allows a user to create a "custom access code" so the lock can be opened without the phone, or if the battery dies. Do you know another way to say "custom access code"? Lock Combination. Which kind of negates the whole point about eliminating the "hassle and frustration of lost keys and forgotten combinations." If someone can't remember their phone, or to keep their lock charged up, how are they going to remember the combination?

Check out some of the other features:

Anti-theft alarm. "When a would-be intruder shakes your Noke for more than 3 seconds, a shrieking alarm goes off. This will definitely send him running and get the attention of anyone within about 50 meters." Ummm . . . yeah. Have you ever noticed how people react to a car alarm that goes off in the night? Now imagine their reaction to a screeching bike lock.

Sharing. "We know you love to share your bike" (Not me. Who are they talking about?). The Noke app makes it safe and easy. You can give one-time access, or custom access based on specific days and times." Who does this? Are there a lot of people out there with a bunch of freeloading friends who are too cheap to get their own bikes? Are people running their own, personal bike-share systems?

GPS Tracking."Maybe you forgot where you locked your bike. With the Noke app, it's no problem. Each time you lock the Noke U-Lock, it is marked so you can always find your bike."

Now I get it. People who can't use a key or remember a combination also can't remember where they left their bike locked up. Of course, if they're that hopeless, how are they able to ride a bike? Or perform their jobs? Or simply function in the world?

Retail price for the Noke U-Lock is about $130. Or for about $50, you can get a basic Kryptonite with an extra cable which will work at least as well (or better if you consider the ability to easily lock up the wheels) in most situations outside of NYC. Yes, you have to keep the key. Is that so hard, considering we still have keys for our homes, cars, maybe work? Besides, if someone can't remember where they locked their bike, they probably can't find their way home either.

New Silca Impero Frame Pump

$
0
0
Last year, the newly revived Silca company, now based in the U.S., brought out the Super Pista Ultimate, which could well be the most amazing inflation tool a person could buy. Why not call it a pump? At $450, it is perhaps just a bit too deluxe to be labeled with such a pedestrian term. I'm not knocking it -- from all accounts, the thing is fantastic and perhaps the last pump (sorry, inflation tool) a person would ever need to buy. And from what I've heard, they aren't having trouble selling them. In fact, a limited run of special "artist edition" pumps painted by Dario Pegoretti was offered at $900 each, and the entire run sold out in no time at all. Not too many of us on teachers' salaries will be buying them, but that's hardly a yardstick for measuring economic success.

With the newest release from the revived Silca, the company does for frame pumps what it did for floor pumps with the new Impero Ultimate Frame Pump: the updated and improved version of the old classic. The original Impero, introduced in the 1920s used, used "Duraluminum" in its construction, but the model most people are probably familiar with was the plastic Impero from the 60s -- especially with the chromed steel Campagnolo head, which was a nice upgrade from the stock plastic chuck.

The new Impero Ultimate uses full aluminum construction, and a new 2-stage seal head gasket that is supposed to provide a good seal on the valve while still using the familiar press-on chuck function without a lever lock, just like the original.

Can you still install a
Campy head on it?
Silicone bumpers on the head and the handle, which the company calls FlexWing technology, are supposed to hold the pump securely in the frame and are designed to accommodate tubing diameters from 1-in. (for us vintage enthusiasts) to 2.5-in. for the popped-out-of-a-mold carbon fans.

The new pump is made in the USA with Alcoa Aluminum extrusions and bar stock. Even the head is solid aluminum. Might not need that chromed Campy head anymore. Like the new floor model, it promises to be incredibly smooth as well as efficient. The company claims it takes fewer strokes to 100 psi than any other portable pump. It comes in 4 lengths to fit a range of frame sizes.

It appears in photos to be black-anodized, with some red-anodized accent pieces. Something tells me that it would look more at home on some of today's carbon fiber wünderbikes than a classic styled lugged steel frame. Any chance they'll offer a version in a silver-anodized finish? That might be more my style. Think about it, Joshua Poertner!

Okay -- it sounds fantastic. Rebuildable. Durable. Efficient. What's it cost? Currently listed on the Silca website for $165.

. . . Gulp. . .

At least I still have my plastic classic.

    Half Bike - Less Than Half Useful

    $
    0
    0

    For those of you bemoaning how useful your bicycles are, somebody has come up with an alternative: The Halfbike -- which might be fun, but is probably something less than half useful.


    Created by a couple of architects from Sofia, Bulgaria, who share "a vision about urban mobility and how it can be applied to the contemporary city," the Halfbike was on Kickstarter and apparently exceeded their $50,000 fundraising goal by about $920,000. Holy Cow.

    Although the designers are interested in urban mobility in the contemporary city, it seems that the focus of the Halfbike is a lot more about recreation than actual mobility. More fun than function

    It's pretty clear at first look that the Halfbike is technically a trike -- but one that's meant to be ridden standing up. "The standing rider position is essential for the Halfbike. It brings you closer to natural walking and it's the only way to control the vehicle with your whole body and not just your hands. Halfbike is a sort of extension to the body that allows a smooth and intuitive ride." I don't know why it's particularly necessary that it be closer to natural walking, but OK.

    Also, not to nitpick, but the fact is that a normal bicycle is also controlled with your whole body and not just your hands. Anybody with even slightly more than casual riding experience recognizes that.

    Where are the helmet police?! They're gonna die!

    To clarify the real intent of the Halfbike, the Kickstarter campaign talks mostly about fun. "We believe happiness has something to do with playing and having fun." And "We want to enable you to explore new horizons and have fun." I wont argue whether the thing looks like it would be fun. It probably would be, up to a point. 

    But the makers also say it would be great for commuting. Why? And Where? As a commuting tool, I can't imagine this being too useful for a commute of anything longer than a couple of city blocks. It also seems pretty limiting if someone needs to carry more than what will fit into a typical backpack. As for the other commuters, if I'm on a city sidewalk crowded with pedestrians, I sure as hell wouldn't want people zipping through the crowd on one of these (natural walking position or no). And if I'm on a bike in the city, I don't think I'd want to be coming up on these in the bike lane, either. No -- not really much for commuting by my perspective.

    According to the Kickstarter page, the retail price of the Halfbike will be $599. Again, I say Holy Cow. Halfbike: Half Useful: Full bike price.
    Viewing all 689 articles
    Browse latest View live