Jan Gehl, Planner Extraordinaire

A name that I became familiar with only after reading David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries over the Thanksgiving holiday (a complete review is on its way) was that of Jan Gehl, a Danish urban planner who is largely responsible (as far as I can fathom) for making Copenhagen the world bicycling paragon that it is. I have spoken before about Copenhagen and its self-propagated images and perceptions, and frankly, I've been less than complimentary, because I think that the most vocal Danish bicycle proponents confuse cause and effect and fail to give credit where it's due (Mikael Colville-Andersen, in his talk in Washington DC, did not mention Gehl).

But if he is not personally so, Gehl appears to be close to the source itself. He's an architect and planner, and principal in Gehl Architects (who have one of the coolest Flash web front-ends I've ever seen.)

New York has a significant connection to Gehl as well. The New York City Department of Transportation hired Gehl as a consultant to survey its streets in 2007 and, by no coincidence bicycling is up in that city as well. Perhaps related to this connection, the New York Times has seen fit to recognize Gehl in its ninth annual Year in Ideas issue of the Sunday magazine.

Byrne talks about Gehl in several places in his book. He introduces him talking about Melbourne and the success they've had in making their city much more liveable. Byrne describes Gehl as

a visionary yet practical urban planner who has successfully tranformed Copenhagen into a pedestrian- and bike-friendly city.. We here in New York think that's .. all well and good for the Danes, but New Yorkers are .. independent minded, so that can't happen here. But Gehl reveals that his proposals initially met with exactly that kind of opposition over there: the locals said, "We Danes will never agree to this—Danish people won't ride bikes." [emphasis mine]

There are many reasons to be hopeful and engaged after reading Byrne's book, but I must say that I found the above paragraphs to be the most inspirational I'd read in quite a while.

It's a "Bike" only because it has two wheels...

Here's the "Yikebike", a Kiwi-designed transportation device that is going to get a lot of press as the successor to the Segway. In some ways, it's a worthy successor. Here's the remarkably well-produced marketing movie, replete with Europop-music, neon-green contrail, and catchy phrases.

The Yikebike is a foldable, baggable, portable, minimalistic electric transportation system. It's not an "E-bike", at least insofar as there is no way to pedal the thing when the battery runs out. It's not high-performance, as most average-to-good urban cyclists could whip it soundly over a short course of a couple of city blocks.

The "YikeBike" has been getting more coverage on gadget blogs than on cycling blogs, and this is for good reason. (It's not, after all, a bicycle as we think of it.) Here are some pertinent specs:

• Range: 9-10 kms (5.5-6.3 miles);
• Payload: 100 kg (220 lbs.) including baggage;
• Charging time: 20 mins for 80% charge;
• Charging cost: $0.15-0.20;
• Vehicle weight: 10 kg;
• Cost: Between $5200 and $5900.

There's a lot to like about the YikeBike concept, especially its product design. The folding design is top-notch, really well thought-out, and clever to boot (I love the "penny-farthing" iconography combined with the "Keep-on-Truckin" posture of the rider). The unit, when folded, appears to be actually compact enough to sling over a shoulder in its special bag. The steering system is compact, innovative, and (at low speeds at least appears to be) effective. The marketing (so far) is quite catchy. But as a serious alternative to bicycles (and let's be fair, it does present itself as such an alternative in its movie), it fails. The range is too short as an alternative to cycling (my daily commute is twice the YikeBike's range each way), and certainly too short as an alternative to car-commuting (which it also tries to undertake).

This raises the problematic question: if the YikeBike isn't a serious alternative to cycling or aut0-commuting, what is it an alternative to? The uncomfortable answer: walking. Walking on a very short commute, or walking to and from the bus-stop. Not even an e-bike purports to replace walking, typically they replace hill-climbing. (And that's fair enough, I suppose.) E-bikers will actually pedal on the flats, extending their range indefinitely, although too bad for them on the climbs when the juice runs out.

I say we need more walking, not less, and therefore I predict the YikeBike will join the Segway in the pantheon of vehicles for sore-footed tourists who want to do extended-range walking tours in urban settings. There are a lot of good design ideas there, though.

Postscript: what do I really, really, really like about the YikeBike movie? Check it out. The uber-cool YikeBiker is wearing Chuck Taylor All-Star Black Monos. This is the ultimate shoe in the world. It can be worn anywhere: your local skateboarding park, a cocktail party, with a tux to an opening at the Kennedy Center. It's green, recyclable, and your yoga teacher will like it, because it folds and gives your feet an opportunity to learn how to Walk Right. I own two pair (one high-top and one low) and am happy to bestow on them the Practical Cyclists' Seal of Approval. (Now if Converse only made them SPD compatible!)

Apocalyptic, but (hopefully) Funny

No, I'm not talking about the latest Tarantino movie, but about T-shirt designs.

For the longest time, I've been unable to get the irony of the old Sinclair gasoline station signs out of my head. The double-entendre of the "dinosaur" is just too delicious, particularly when applied to (take your choice): petroleum / global warming / large automobiles / SUVs / heedless drivers.

Combining my love of ironic humor with my love of word play, I've mashed-up the old Sinclair sign a bit, finding a new anagrammatic interpretation of the letters, giving ol' Apato a little bit of personality and throwing in a fiery asteroid for good measure (this last element, I must admit, was inspired by Olivia Judson's blog on the New York Times website.)

There are two hi-rez PDF versions, one with a background field, one without (the low-ink version, for those of you printing your own T-shirts on the inkjet printer.) Enjoy, and if you make up some shirts, send me some photos of yourselves!

The Oregon Manifest troubles me...

Sometimes I worry that I'm becoming a curmudgeon. For example, take my reaction to the Oregon Manifest. Here is an event that, on the face of it, people like me should be wholeheartedly in support of. (I know, don't end your sentences with prepositions.) But still, I find it troubling. Bear with me as I explore the reasons why:

First, what is the Oregon Manifest? It's a three-weekend series of bike related events in October and November. There appear to be two main events: The Oregon Manifest Constructor's Design Challenge is a framebuilders' competition aimed at [inspiring] "frame builders and designers to develop considered, integrated, and spectacular solutions for the everyday rider". Complementary to this is the second major event, the Constructor's Race, wherein "Design Challenge builders (or their designated proxies) will put their entries to the test braving dirt, gravel, elevation climbs, and urban technical trials on the route to Bike Victory."

The judging criteria for the Design Challenge is truly broad and deep. From the entry form, it reads like this:

1. Truly sensational solution: A genuinely unique and innovative solution for transportation use. Amaze us.
2. Handling: The bike must handle equally well with and without load. Both options will be tested against turning and straight pedaling.
3. Integration: Design solutions should be integrated into a complete and harmonious whole, rather than a checklist of details.
4. Presentation and Execution: Fabrication refinement and final presentation are important indicators of skill and thoughtfulness. Extraordinary craftsmanship can be displayed equally well in the simplest brazing or the fanciest lug. Individual design solutions should build to a single visual and functional whole.
5. Overall response to the course and challenges: Entry bikes must take into consider all elements of the race course, the 10 design considerations and the overall challenges they present.
6. Load carrying: Bikes must accomodate and securely carry the rider’s award ceremony party attire, a provided 6-pack of beverage (in glass bottles), and a provided small container of party snacks.
7. Security: Bikes must be protected from theft while unattended. A smart, easy solution for securing the bike under different conditions is expected.
8. Portage: Bikes must accommodate being carried by its rider over a section of the course.
9. Utility: Bikes should accomodate the expected need for changing weather, lighting conditions, and visibility. We know that you know what this means.
10. Quality and Rattles: If elements are loose, rattling, or otherwise inoperable at the race finish, points will be deducted for each failure.

So, there you have it. Everything from "Amaze us" (and "us" is a distinguished group of judges) to "smart, easy solution" for security to "accommodate weather" to "no rattles". You will agree that that's a broad portfolio for design and execution, no?

You know, I do believe that issuing a tough challenge is a good way to get results. I've participated in (and, on occasion, won) design challenges under tough, even unreasonable, conditions. So, what problems could a Practical Cyclist have with such a challenge? I think my problem is with the assumptions that this event appears to make about the state of affairs "for the everyday rider" (and I feel that, as a bona fide "everyday rider" and as a blogger who cares about bicycle design I get to weigh in on this stuff):

Assumption 1: The reason people don't use bikes for transportation is that the bikes themselves aren't good enough, nicely-enough designed, practical enough, or (especially) convenient enough. This is a seductive assumption: "Hey, if we could just make bikes convenient, like cars, people would use them!" Well, I hate to be the one to break this news, but it's just not going to happen -- bikes will never be as convenient as cars, and we'll just have to live with that. The truth is, the not-so-little problems with bike "convenience", to wit,

• safety in traffic
• weather
• security
• comfort
• physical stamina
• efficient power utilization
• perspiration

..can be addressed by physical bicycle design only to a limited degree. The problems that can't be addressed by design will have to be overcome by preparation and motivation to ride, and I assert that it is lack of motivation to ride that keeps people off bikes, because, frankly, bikes are pretty wonderful as they are. Making them 2 or 3 or even 5 percent more wonderful is nice, but hardly a revolution.

Assumption 2: A 77-mile cyclocross race is a predictor of a successful transportation system. Look, practical transportation needs are in the range of 20 to 30 miles a day, maximum. And they don't involve portage or dirt trails. (They do involve carrying lunch and a change of clothes, however, which is admittedly also part of the challenge.) Cyclocross races, especially ones with extra "degrees of difficulty", are fun, for sure, but suggesting that an event like this has anything to do with the "everyday rider" is muddying the waters.

Assumption 3: The engineering and fabrication required to solve the problems stated in the design brief can be done in 2 months. I've built frames before; 30 years ago in Houston, I had the great privilege to be an apprentice to the late, great Roman "Ray" Gasiorowski, maker of Romic bikes. From my personal experience, to even begin to solve these problems, you're talking about a month of pencil-and-paper work. Then fabrication of special components, then assembly and testing. The timing is such that what you're going to get is a bunch of beautiful, well-engineered, fast cargo bikes. This is not a bad thing, mind you, but not "velorutionary". (Here's a prediction: several of the entrants, and probably the winner, will use a Rohloff Speedhub, because of its superior transmission capabilities.)

Conceptual problems aside, though, I do see one other problem, or should I say potential conflict, and that is this: The listed Director of Oregon Manifest is someone named Jocelyn Sycip, and one of the listed entrants in the design competition is Sycip Design of Santa Rosa, California. Is this a conflict of interest, or am I to believe that the Sycips of Oregon and California are unrelated?

Yep, all these years and miles of bicycle commuting are turning me into a curmudgeon. No doubt about it.

Times Square

I asked my younger daughter (who lives in New York City) what she thought about the new Times Square makeover (where Broadway has been blocked from automobile traffic in a couple of places) and she seemed dismissive. (She might have called it a "gimmick".) I think that she, as an adoptive New Yorker, wants to keep away from touristy areas, and Times Square certainly qualifies.

It's weird to think about cheap folding lawn chairs in the left-over spaces where Broadway used to cross 7th Avenue (which remains open, by the way.) Supposedly, the city takes up the chairs every night and redistributes them every morning. Is this any way to run a national urban landmark?

But there's something important about the New Times Square makeover by the Planning Department of New York City. If nothing else, it's the first U.S. project (ad hoc though it be) in my memory whose momentum is decidedly anti-car. Nicholai Ouroussoff reviews the "design" in this article. Nick O (as I will dare to call him) is right on the money about the unplanned nature of the action (as he says, "this is not the Piazza San Marco in Venice or even Trafalgar Square", but I think it is so important to expose people (even if they are unwitting tourists!) to the idea that the U.S. can have a "public realm" that isn't driven (sorry!) by traffic engineering.

Over at the very interesting blog, World Streets (newly on my blogroll), there is a very interesting article (which promises to be a series) by Paul Barter, a professor in public policy at the National University of Singapore, about "The Battle for Street Space" that is really worth a read (as is much of the other stuff over there.) I see many people from all over the world on that blog talking about 30 kph (yes, kph) speed limits everywhere except on highways. My first reaction is to lecture these people about how this will never fly in the U.S.; the auto is forever king here. But maybe not -- Times Square is a very interesting precedent. It will be fascinating to see where it goes.

Apple and bikes

Continuing on in the "what if XX made a bike" series, let's take a deep breath and go after the big one: Apple.

Prologue: Today's state of bicycle "captial D" design to my mind is so-so at best. The fact that opportunity still exists for Apple to come in to the market (should they decide they want to) means that design is still lagging, despite all the effort put towards it. At right is a "design" put forth by Puma, a design-conscious fashion clothing manufacturer, for their fourth-generation bike. They appear to be making some kind of statement about color, except they can't quite get even that right (ahem, guys, get a white handlebar, stem, and front rim, and powder-coat the front brake calipers! If you're going to make it about color, DO IT!)

If Apple made a bike, what would it look like? Knowing what I know about Apple (I've been a Mac user since 1984 and have worked for 10 years for Nemetschek North America, makers of Vectorworks, the best-selling CAD product on the Mac), and particularly considering its recent successes with industrial design since the iPod, here is what I could reasonably predict about any Apple product:

• It would be iconic; recognizable as the thing that it is (that is, it would be a realization of a classic design rather than a revolutionary design.)
• It would feature obsessive attention to detail.
• It would focus on the user experience.
• It would definitively fix problems with the product category that users didn't realize they had.
• It would be visually beautiful and a tactile delight.
• It would co-promote other products made by Apple as part of a lifestyle.
  
• It would be expensive, a stretch for the pocketbook; something that conveys status, but stops short of aloofness.
  
• It would be value-engineered, so Apple could make a decent profit.
• It would be sold only through the Apple store. (duh.)
• There would be tremendous opportunity to create a third-party "add-on" ecosystem.
  

So, how would these "branding requirements" translate into a specific bicycle design? What are the "unrealized problems" waiting to be solved in bicycle design that could be fixed with an obsessive amount of user-centric problem solving and delivered through industrial design? I think the major problems to be solved (the "user requirements") are these:

• Looks: The bike should have a minimalist look, as much like a fixie as possible. The explosive popularity of fixies is all about that sexy, iconic bike look.
• Shifting: Bikes need to be easier to use (i.e. shift) so that users don't wear themselves out getting from point A to point B. (Fixies look great, but aren't practical unless you're an athlete.)
• Security: There needs to be a convenient, highly effective anti-theft solution.
  
• Comfort: The places where your body touches the bike, the controls, the seat and the pedals, need improvement. This is after all the "user interface" of the bike. Ideally, other than for a helmet (and maybe some sporty-looking gloves) you wouldn't need any special clothing to use this bike.
  
• Maintenance: The thing needs to set new standards of minimalism in maintenance.

Specking out this bike (at a high level) would be fun—more fun, I daresay, than the sweat-work of designing and testing it. (So, let's do it!) I would think we'd see the following kind of "functional specification" from Apple in trying to fulfill these requirements:

• Frame: Probably hydr0formed aluminum, welded, with smooth-dressed joints. The finish would be anodized ("nanochromatic" colors to match the iPod nano?) and clear-coated. All cables would be internally routed. The frame would be set up so that a minimum number of sizes (maybe just two: small and large) would accommodate all riders. This presumes a maximally adjustable seatpost and stem arrangement.
• Drivetrain: Internally-geared rear hub, probably 8 speed, with an automatic shifter working off cadence and speed scnsors integrated in the frame. Belt drive. Gear range for city hills.
• Brakes: Internal hub brakes front and rear. (Yes, the hubs will be big, but it'll be a clean look and low maintenance. Speaking of which...).
  
• Maintenance: Carbon or aramid drive belt good for 10,000 miles. Sealed bearings everywhere. Aramid-belted tires (possibly tubeless) with interior goo to stop slow leaks. All cables Teflon-coated. An absolute minimum of hardware exposed to the elements. Here's where that famous Apple attention to detail will pay off.
  
• Controls: Brake handles with fully-concealed cabling. The cyclocomputer would be your iPhone or iPod touch running a "free" app from the App Store. The app would integrate GPS, speed, odometer, traffic and weather reports, and (naturally) music. There would be special valve-stem caps that could sense low pressure in your tires and transmit warnings to the control unit via Bluetooth. Oh, and the app would enable customization of your shift points on the transmission. The front hub would be a dyno-hub to keep the lights and the iPhone charged up.
  
• User Interface (pedals, seat, handlebars): I think Apple could come up with some clever platform pedals that would work with street shoes but still have some restraint to allow pedaling efficiency. And the handlebars should be "fixie" style, perhaps with cell-foam padding so they could be used without gloves. The saddle is the real problem, because it needs to fulfill two conflicting requirements (1) be an iconic bike saddle; and (2) be comfortable. I think they'd have to do something like provide a "basic" saddle that has a proven comfort record like the Terry Liberator, and a "premium" saddle that is a Brooks classic leather saddle that comes fully broken in. (That will be an expensive extra cost option!)
• Accessories: I think fenders, yes; but rack, no. (Fenders are sexy, racks aren't.) Instead of selling racks and panniers, Apple could sell coordinated backpacks (they could re-brand this ergonomic German one). Lights front and rear, for sure, integrated into the frame. The really tough challenge is the security issue. You could easily design security to work for Mudville, but not so easy for Manhattan. And effective locks are so big and heavy. I think Apple might try a two-pronged approach: first, a frame design that integrated a solid locking bar that would allow you to use a small high-security lock rather than a U-bar lock, and secondly, something (again an extra cost option) that worked with the iPhone to transmit a "help" signal if the bike were being tampered with.
  

Whew. Quite a bike, huh? What should it sell for? I would say that it ought to sell slightly above the price range for Apple laptops, say $1900 to $3500 depending on the options. I daresay that Apple has enough economies of scale, manufacturing wise, to be able to pull this off, and to value-engineer it to make a profit. (That auto-shifter will be tricky to engineer for sure, but Apple's just the company to do it.)

An industrial designer who is really ready to take on the challenge of the Apple bike is the Swedish designer Erik Nohlin from Gothenburg. He entered his delightfully minimalist, well thought out "MuskOx" design in the Bicycle Design (blog) "Ultimate Commuter Bike" design contest. (He should have won in my opinion.) If Apple wanted to get into bikes, they should just hire this guy, give him the list of requirements, and fund him.

But, first things first, Apple. Before you can proceed on this project, you have to wrestle the "iBike" trademark (#3096850) away from Velocomp LLP, makers of the "iBike" cyclocomputers.

IKEA and bikes

This past weekend, I passed the architect's equivalent of the "busman's holiday", which is, I spent two days in New York City assembling IKEA furniture for my younger daughter who is moving into her own apartment in NYC to take her first job. (Big milestones, you will I hope agree, and particularly poignant on Mothers' Day weekend.)

I am continually impressed with IKEA's value-engineering of their product. Their simple idea is to deliver good design at the least cost. In this case, "good design" means not only visual appeal but also sturdiness without excess weight or material. These are big challenges also for bicycle design, and IKEA stands out as the world-wide champion of achieving this.

Their approach to value-engineering is relentless, and if you assemble (as I did) eight pieces of furniture and observe their VE technique, it's quite remarkable. In eight pieces of furniture, there was only one mistake in execution (a wrong-handed drawer glide was supplied.) The newer pieces used a composite, rather than all-metal, cam-lock mechanism that was lighter, cheaper (no doubt) and held just as tightly as the old all-metal ones. Perhaps most remarkably, in not one of the pieces I assembled (and I did everything from bookcase to desk to dining table to futon) was there either a hardware piece missing or extra.

It's extremely tempting to ask the question, "If IKEA made a bike, what would it be like?" I'm guessing the specs would be something like this:

• Two-piece reinforced resin 6 spoke wheels;
• Sealed press-in cartridge bearings everywhere;
• One wrench required to assemble the whole thing (probably 6mm);
• Internally geared 3 speed rear hub assembly, in-hub drum brakes front and rear;
• Single frame size (also reinforced resin or possibly TIG-welded aluminum);
• Size adjustments with extra-long, cuttable seatpost;
• Some innovate approach to a fork (maybe a motorcycle style double-post fork with resin crossbars) to eliminate the expensive headset arrangement;
• Single-chainwheel crank with either belt drive or lifetime lube chain;
• Standard saddle and pedal attachments to allow for customization / replacement;
• One-piece (i.e. non-demountable) bars, grips and brake lever assembly.
  

All flat-packed and user-assembled, of course. The price would I think be in about the $300 range. It's doable with the current technology (and with the VE technology that IKEA has already assembled.)

Then they should sponsor a team in the Tour. (I'm surprised they don't already -- they must have more money than God.)

AIA-SFO: Integrating Bikes and Business

Next week I'll be attending the American Institute of Architects (AIA) convention in San Francisco. Architects are (at long last) becoming environmental leaders in the professional communities, and "cycling" and "environmental" fit together nicely for me, so I'll be taking a folding bike to push the envelope of "green consciousness" for architects. I don't want to be unfair here—I've noticed that there exists a large intersection among architects, cyclists, and (even) bike builders, it's just that, when it comes to cycling, and particularly practical, everyday cycling, there's a lot more lip service than action. So I hope to turn that around in a small way.

My company, Nemetschek NA, produces a computer-aided design software called Vectorworks. It's used primarily by architects (as I am), but it has great 3D and solids capabilities, and I want to design bikes with it. (This would be just another integration of life, work, and avocation for me.) I've designed buildings and shoes with it, but not yet bikes. If you've used CAD to design bikes, I want to talk to you, so leave me a comment and a way to get in touch!

San Francisco is a city where I've spent time before. And it has hills that are serious challenges to walk up, much less bike up. I don't think I have a bike set up with the gears needed for all of San Francisco.

That's the bad news. The good news is, I'm going to be spending almost all my time in the "SoMa" (South of Market) area, which is quite flat, by SFO standards. Following one of the guiding principles of Practical Cycling, "Research your Route", I've done some homework on SFO. Here's a nifty topographical map of the city overlaid with bike routes. Below is a Google map of what I'm going to be up to. The aqua-colored destination in the middle of the Castro district is where my friend Scott and his wife Polly reside, and that is at the top of a pretty awesome hill, one I don't think I'd try and tackle unless I had about 22" gears. So Scott and I will have to meet elsewhere (maybe at the "Zeitgeist" bar, which is I'm told a favorite of the local bike couriers), or I'll take the bus to his house.

View SFO AIA Convention 2009 in a larger map

So, I've decided to take my folder for the flat areas. I bought (off my brother, who wasn't using it) a Dahon "Speed D7" folder, (mine being about 8 years old, not quite as nice as the one in the link), and a Samsonite "Oyster" standard-airline-case (SAC) that it fits in for transport. I spent a weekend overhauling it, getting it properly equipped for minimal practical cycling (tool kit, pump, lock, patches, lights,) and learning how to pack it. (I made some breakthroughs in this area. There are websites that state that you can't pack a Dahon folder in an Oyster without removing the stem and handlebars, a major pain since I added a cyclocomputer mount. I found that I need only remove the wheels, and everything else fits neatly. (I'll leave the details of that for another post.)

I was in Seattle at the beginning of April and used the trip out there as a first shake-down trip for the travelling cyclist use-case. Excepting a tangled chain on initial unpacking of the bike, everything went surprisingly well. I found the little Dahon, while a bit short in the leg for my tall frame, to still be an acceptable ride for up to, say, 20 miles. I put about 75-80 miles on the Dahon in 5 days, in Seattle, a city not devoid of hills itself. The gear range is rather limited, at both the top and (somewhat surprisingly, given the 20" wheels) the bottom.

So, if you're in San Francisco next week and see the very tall guy on the clown bicycle wearing the Vectorworks shirt, that will be me. Flag me down and tell me you're a reader of A Practical Cyclist, and I'll be glad to invite you to the Vectorworks "City to Green" party on Thursday night! And if by chance you're attending the AIA convention, please drop by the Vectorworks booth, #1651, and let's talk bicycles, design, and computer-aided design.

Bicycle as Fetish

My dictionary defines it thus:

fet•ish |ˈfeti sh |
noun
•an inanimate object worshiped for its supposed magical powers or because it is considered to be inhabited by a spirit.

Now, bear that definition in mind as you read and view this article from the Style (of course!) section of the New York Times, a photo layout of high-fashion models draped over Dutch and high-end American street bicycles. After reading (with no small amount of amusement) this article, I have come to the inescapable conclusion that bicycles are now a fetish in urban America. Since it is defined as bestowing powers, what can we say is the power it might bestow? I submit that the power (in today's America) is coolness.

Bikes have become cool. Partly as a result of Lance, partly as a result of the skinny young bike couriers, partly as a result of the ecological movement, partly as a result of last year's gasoline price bubble, bicycles have arrived.

The fashion models bear witness to this. I mean, really! The set of individuals who would not only bike to work but who would insist on being a fashion plate is very, very small. This is not for societal reasons, it's for practical ones. Let's examine a quote from the Times article:

Can the bicycle, the urban answer to the wild mustang, slow down and put fenders on? Can the urban cyclist, he of the ragtag renegade clothes or shiny spandex, grow up and put on a tie?

I think what's interesting is the way this quote (and the article as a whole) presents this as an either-or. Either spandex or worsted. Either wild or staid. Either adolescent or grown-up. While the either-or is effective as a literary device, I think it's a bit overwrought in this particular case. Let's look at some facts:

"Real" cycle-commuters have to deal with the weather. Even sitting upright on a Dutch bike, in New York City there are probably only about six weeks out of the year (three in spring, three in fall) where you could ride to work a distance of greater than 3 miles and not get either grossly lathered up or pretty darn cold. Fashion cycling is a very limited activity, and people who cycle because they are motivated by fashion-good-looks won't be doing so for very much of the year.

"Real" cycle-commuters have to deal with safety. The Times article states, "Dutch bikes are ridden upright, not hunched over, and you move at a safe, slow gait". Please! Moving at a "slow gait" on the streets of Manhattan is safe? Riding a bike to work, preoccupied with how I'm going to keep my two-thousand dollar Marc Jacobs suit from getting stained or ripped is safe? Not wearing a helmet because "..riding a bike should be normal, and you shouldn’t have to wear a funny Styrofoam hat” is safe?

"Real" cycle-commuters in the City have to deal with New York. The article pays lip service to the ever-present everyday problems of the commuter: the traffic, the fear of theft, the lack of secure bike parking. None of these are made any easier by being dressed fashionably. (Lugging and lifting bikes is a great way to rip tight-fitting pretty-boy suits. I think the look on the face of the model in this picture, dealing with the folding bike, says it all.)

The Times article, in the end, is kind of a mish-mash (or "mashup," the more popular contemporary term). It flits around, and touches on a wide variety of very valid and interesting issues, but doesn't stay with any of them long enough to make sense. Of course, that's not its point. Its point is to sell fashion, which it does admirably with its slide show.

This isn't the first recent intersection of bicycling and fashion that comes to mind. There are the $3000 cycling suits by Rapha, fresh from Savile Row, and the seriously sartorial Dashing Tweeds get-up that bike manufacturer Gary Fisher (right) recently was fitted for in London. The Dashing Tweeds suit is made of Lumatwill, a fabric whose pinstripes are reflective for night riding. Like Gore-tex it's a Teflon laminated fabric, so it's both breathable and waterproof. To me, this is a true bespoke ("custom" for those of you who don't speak the King's English) suit for a cyclist. It's truly forward-looking and (assuming as I must that it's cut for freedom of movement) represents something that could be seriously used by a commuter on those days when he just has to wear a suit.

David Colman of the Times has put up a visually interesting article, but ultimately it's about the conventional fashion trade. It seems ironic to me that there's a true story going on about cycling and cycle-clothing, however, and they're missing it.

PS: Hey, NYTimes, where are the female models? Is it just too hard to reconcile the way that real female cyclists look with the current uber-anorexic female fashion model?

P.U.M.A.

This is too ironic. Here's a verbatim quote from the GM introduction of the "P.U.M.A." auto-balancing two person vehicle made in joint venture with Segway:

"Imagine moving about cities in a vehicle fashioned to your taste, that's fun to drive and ride in, that safely takes you where you want to go, and "connects" you to friends and family, while using clean, renewable energy, producing zero vehicle tailpipe emissions, and without the stress of traffic jams," said Burns. "And imagine doing this for one-fourth to one-third the cost of what you pay to own and operate today's automobile. This is what Project P.U.M.A. (Personal Urban Mobility and Accessibility) is capable of delivering."

Yes. Imagine that. Let's imagine this as a series of bullet points, shall we?
A vehicle:
• tailored to your tastes
• fun to drive and ride
• safely takes you where you want to go
• "connects" you to friends and family
• using clean, renewable energy
• producing zero vehicle tailpipe emissions
• without the stress of traffic jams

I say that my commute (which is to say, my bike) can robustly answer "check!" to all of these with the possible exception of the "connects you to friends and family" item which seems to me to be more like a cell phone than a vehicle. But my bike, maybe kinda sorta, can be said to do even this.

This whole thing beggars the imagination. I've accused GM of incompetence before (before this abomination, even well before the first bailout).

But the point is, really: What does the fact that PUMA can be taken seriously say about us as a society, anyway? Are we so culturally averse to physical activity (and to sweat) that we'll do anything to avoid it, as beneath us? The Roman poet Juvenal described the ideal of the "healthy mind in the healthy body"; the apostle Paul referred to the "body as a temple". It does seem that there is something particularly American about this; you don't see this aversion to activity in Europe. Can this be laid at the feet of Madison Avenue, who basically elevated BO (and therefore sweat) to the level of a mortal sin?

And, does that guy in the photo above have any notion of just how truly dorky he looks? I mean, didn't everyone see Wall-E?

Have we really, truly become South Park? (Thanks to Geeks are Sexy for the reference.) Man, I would feel so much better if I knew this were GM perpetrating an elaborate joke. But I don't think so; they're a week late.

Bike Ownership Patterns and Cyclo-computers

It's funny, you know. There seem to be two different types of bicycle owners. The first kind has one bike. Maybe he or she personalizes it, gives it a name. The second kind of owner owns several bikes: maybe a road bike, maybe a fixie, maybe a twenty-niner, maybe a folder, maybe a vintage 70's model. Either kind of owner can be a dedicated rider or not.

But in the case of the second type of owner who happens to be a dedicated rider, there's a market need going unfulfilled, and that is, cyclo-computers with more than two available wheel size settings. They just don't exist as far as I know. The multi-bike example I gave above (and honestly, from perusing the blogosphere, I don't think this is such a rare occurence) could have 4 different wheel sizes on his bikes.

Later this year, as I rebuild my beloved touring bike, I will be in a situation where I have bike with 3 different wheel sizes, and I will be forced to go to wheel reset mode on a regular basis if I want to properly accumulate mileage (and I do.) I'll bet that the desire to have a reasonably accurate cumulative mileage (coupled with the ability to learn one and only one set of controls) would be highly attractive to a growing market segment.

So here's a great opportunity, all you manufacturers of cyclocomputers (and there's probably only about three, maybe four, of you) -- give us some flexibility!

Chevrons for All

In doing a little more research on sharrows, I came across a brand-new (only two weeks old!) study on sharrows done by the city of Bellevue, Washington. It's worth a download and read. Much of the methodology is very similar to the earlier City of San Francisco (CSF) study.

Continuing in the spirit of my last two posts, I've decided to do a little "free art" for the public. I've made a couple of full-size graphics of chevron-style sharrow images, done to two different municipal standards. They are ready to be printed on a large-format printer and cut into a large sheet of (something). Then, well, do with it as you will. Hang it on the wall, or use it, uh, as a focus for night-time activity.

Images: The images are full-size PDF graphics. They are fairly compact (in terms of file size). The image based on the CSF "chevron" style (download here) is smaller and will fit into a 4' x 8' sheet of stencil material. The Bellevue image (download here) is rather larger and would require a 4' x 11' or 4' x 12' sheet of material. I've slightly modified the CSF image by adding "webbing" for easy positioning of the cutouts. This will be a single-piece stencil. The Bellevue image isn't modified from their spec, which is much more detailed, and is a multi-piece stencil.

Positioning on roadway: The CSF guidelines were for the center of the image to be 11'-0" from the curb in areas of parallel parking. The Bellevue guidelines call for the center of the image to be "about 11 feet from the curb where parking exists" and, with no parking, "about 3 feet out from the curb."

Methodology: Well, the standard approach is to print the PDF full size at a printing shop that handles large-format printing, then to transfer it to stencil material such as corrugated single-face plastic sheet and cut it out (be careful, be careful, BE CAREFUL!)

It is, however, difficult to get an image out of my head, and that is Joshua Kinberg's utterly brilliant "Bikes Against Bush" rig (website here, video here) done for the New York City Republican Convention. The resolution of these images are of course a lot higher than the rather crude (brilliant! but low-rez) letters of Joshua's first experiment. But it doesn't take a genius to visualize a higher-rez "bike dot matrix" system that could handle one-color graphic images as well as just text. This really sounds like a job for JK or the Graffiti Research Lab of NYC. This would be a technological tour-de-force for the "Urban Repair Squad", wouldn't it?

Sharrows

Let's continue on the topic of street marking.

Wanting to know more about sharrows, I went to Wikipedia and read about shared lane marking. (I had to read about a district in Sheffield, England first.) I was a little unclear on the topic, I suppose, as I had thought that sharrows were rather vague in their application. Nothing could be further from the truth, as there appears to be a small if well defined body of traffic standards that apply to shared lane markings.

If you've (like me) not been paying close attention to the sharrows issue, here's a brief definition: Sharrows are "bicycle use" road markings that are installed where complete bike lanes cannot be installed for various reasons including:

• Not enough cyclists to justify bike lanes;
• Too expensive to install bike lanes;
• Use of bike lanes would require loss of parking; and/or
• Use of bike lanes would require road widening;

The city of San Francisco did a study on sharrows in 2004 that they have published in PDF form. The study's stated goals for sharrows is the following:

• Improve positioning of both cyclists and motorists on streets without bike lanes;
• Reduce aggressive motorist behavior;
• Prevent wrong-way bicycling;
• Prevent bicycling on sidewalks;

San Francisco additionally studied two different forms of sharrow marking, the "bike in house" design and the "chevron" design. Their study logged 140 hours of videotaping of before-and-after activity on six different streets in SF, three of which were two-lane and three of which were four-lane. Even though this study is not exactly "new news", I must say that I'm impressed with the size, thoroughness and rigor of this study. San Francisco has got a bunch of wonks that know what they're doing, statistically.

So, what happened? Well, the city of San Francisco (CSF) videotaped and analyzed a lot of traffic behavior. In 6 street locations, and before painting the streets, they taped cyclists' positions on the street, motorists' locations, and clearances afforded cyclists by motorists. (They did this for 1100 cyclists.) Then they painted the sharrows with the center of the figure 11'-0" out from the curb. And they ran the video study again. The results of the study are as summarized in the graphic at right.

I don't know about you, but I think these are pretty significant results. Cyclists are clearly less crowded towards parked cars, and motorists are clearly making better affordances for them.

One of the interesting things that the CSF found was that while the "chevron" design eliminated wrong-way cycling where it was used, the "bike-in-house" design appeared to have no effect in this area. For this reason (and the slightly better affordances noted above), the CSF approved the "chevron" design for use on CSF streets.

Because the markings were applied to the streets with no preceding public education program (the CSF evidently felt this might have skewed the results,) cyclists and motorists were then surveyed as to their perception and understanding of the markings. I won't go into the results of this survey in detail, (you can peruse the PDF if you like, as it's all there,) but will hit on some highlights:

• Most cyclists felt that the markings indicated a bike route;
• 60% of the cyclists felt an increased sense of safety;
• 33% of the cyclists felt that the markings caused them to "take the lane" more;
• 35% of the cyclists felt that the markings improved motorists' behavior;

After reading and reflecting on this excellent study, I feel that I have a much more positive feeling about sharrows than I had before. First and foremost, they are effective; they work to improve cyclist/ motorist interactions. Secondly, they have a "skills improvement" component, that of helping the cyclist attain proper position on the road. Finally, their ambiguity (which had put me off a little before I read the study) may prove to be one of their strong points: while a cyclist may feel he is "unprotected" if he ventures outside a fully-marked bike lane, no such boundary exists or is even implied with a sharrow, and this is probably a good thing.

Cargo bikes

Time for another product review post, yay! It's been a while since I posted anything really substantial (I've been too busy out riding, fighting the cold) so... Let's look at a favorite topic of mine, Cargo Bikes. These are the essence of "Practical Cycling".

I had visions years ago of unusual municipal vehicles in Austin, Texas. Garbage conveyance (which after all doesn't have to travel at a high rate of speed), street sweeping, public safety (THAT one at least came true) -- could they all be supplied by human-powered vehicles? Certainly deliveries could, as these vehicles amply demonstrate. (Note: I limit this review to commercial-style cargo bikes, no kiddie trailers.)

Bakfiets: This Dutch company makes a variety of front-wheel loaded bicycles and tricycles. "Bakfiets" is Dutch for "carrier cycle" or "cargo bike". This make is apparently popular as a purveyor of kiddie-carriers for (hm, how can I say this...) bourgeois US households and even has some name-brand-recognition therewith.

Work Cycles: This is another Dutch company with a nice broad selection of designs. Their philosophy as stated on their website begins: "The bicycle is a perfect example of the beautiful minimalism the world should adopt to continue forward. We thus promote everyday cycling amongst individuals, families and enterprises.." Nicely put. Work Cycles does Bakfiets-style "child transport cycles" but also heavier-duty stuff like the "Bakers' Bike" illustrated. (Regular readers may notice a similarity to the Stockholm commercial bike I pictured earlier.) Update: the bike pictured in this section is a "Truck", made by Monark Bikes of Sweden, better known in the US for their exercise bikes.

The Dutch Bicycle Company: Another, hm, Dutch company (is there anyone other than me noticing a pattern here?) that deals in (among other things) cargo bikes. I get the impression that this company, more than manufacturers, are importer and dealers. They sell a bike (that they describe as Swedish-built) called the "short John" that is pretty much identical to the "Bakers' bike" above, and also a "long John" cargo bike (pictured).

Bilenky Bikes of Philadelphia (finally an American builder!) Full disclosure: I've done business with Steven Bilenky a couple of years back when he modified and repainted a touring frame for me. Bilenky is a full custom builder and does beautiful hand filed fillet brazing on his main frame joints. His motto is "Artistry in Steel", which pretty much tells you his choice of material. Most of Bilenky's cargo bikes are variations on a front-hauler style. In 2005, a courier named Hodari won the "World Messenger Cargo Bike Race" on a Bilenky. Go here to see a video of the race. Fun!

Bikes at Work is a custom shop out of Ames, Iowa that also has a production line of heavy-duty bike trailers (pictured). I really like the unassuming practicality of these units. (They are sized to fit multiples of Rubbermaid garden waste containers, available everywhere.) Bikes at Work also does custom cargo bikes; there's a page on their web site showing some of their "projects".

Carry Freedom: Not a commercial enterprise, but a take on bicycle-trailer-as-appropriate-technology. This is the ultimate green bike trailer, made of bamboo, and plans are free for the downloading. (Wide acceptance of the Internet didn't occur until long after he was dead, but Fritz Schumacher would have loved the Web and the dissemination of information it embodies.) If you have a source of bamboo, it's hard to imagine a more cost-effective solution. The page has a number of other free bicycle cart designs at the bottom that are worth visiting. See this page also for other community bike cart designs. Bicycle ambulances! (This gets back to some of my original visions for municipal support of human power.)

Continuing the "Appropriate Technology" theme, the Center for Appropriate Transportation of Oregon has many interesting practical hauling-cycle designs. Check out the "tri-hauler", a front-wheel drive utility tricycle that comes in a "third-ton" model! I've been fascinated by alternate-steering geometries of human-powered vehicles, and this model epitomizes this approach. I do worry a little about the torque on the steerer of this design, and I feel about this a little like I felt about the front-wheel-drive Volkswagen pickup truck, i.e., the weight ought to be over the driving wheels, oughtn't it?

Segue-ing on while maintaining the Oregon theme, CETMA Racks is a small builder from Eugene, Oregon who (as the name suggests) has made a business in heavy-duty front racks and is now offering a limited edition (and really beautiful) cargo bike. The bike looks exceedingly sturdy and well-engineered with disk brakes and, yes, what appears to be a Rohloff rear hub. Very, very nice. (The racks are nice too, if you're on more of a budget.) This is the builder you go to if you're an execution fanatic, where every detail counts.

I've seen the Danish-origin Christiania cargo trikes in London. They are reverse trikes, with two rigidly connected steering wheels under the cargo box. Very tradesman-looking, and they have a unique offering in the disability-transporting unit that will take a wheelchair passenger. These have many optional extras (including electric drive hubs) and appear to be very professionally built.

We're getting into the serious commercial side of things with Cycles Maximus, makers of pedicabs. These can also be seen on the streets of London and are very professionally made. Three-passenger capacity, space for advertising, compact off-duty storage, 24-speed SRAM rear hubs (no doubt with perfect gearing), differentials, and so on. You get the impression of an almost Darwinian, highly-evolved design for the pedicab, or rickshaw, or "pedicab rickshaw" as they are somewhat redundantly referred to on Maximus' site. Ding-ding! Get out of the way!

David Wilson Industries of Seattle makes a cargo bike called the "Borracho" which would be reviewed here if for no other reason than its name. ("Borracho" translates from the Spanish as "drunken".) At first glance, perhaps, this bike appears a little less sophisticated than some of the others we've looked at, but don't be fooled. It has a 600-lb capacity, and if I had to batter down a reinforced door with my cargo bike, this is the one I'd use with the least fear of damaging the bike itself. The braking system is notable here; rear roller brake (part of the Shimano Nexus hub) and take a look at the size of that front disk.

Fraser Cycles is a custom builder out of San Diego who has ventured into the area of cargo bikes. He's also done track, road, racing, and the sine qua non of custom builders, the back-to-back tandem recumbent. (Is there a more complicated bike, mechanically?) Fraser uses software on his website called "tiltviewer" that is easily the most high-tech gallery viewing software I've seen on the web. It's a little "too-too", I think.

Organic Engines (love that name) is a Tallahassee builder (Daniel Kavanagh) who also has a heavy-duty front wheel drive cargo trike like C.A.T. above, but I think Kavanagh's is more interesting. Firstly, it has a pivot (can we still call it a headset?) setup that doesn't look like it would break under heavy loading. Second, Kavanagh builds it as a cargo trike (platform only) or as a pedicab. Third, Kavanagh touts the pedicab as a small-business pitch, which I really like. Lastly, OE/Kavanagh sells frame sets only if you want to save a buck, and he's very upfront about costs. Very admirable. The first expression on his site is (and I quote,) "OMGWTFBBQ". What's not to like about a guy like this? (Well, I can think of one thing, and that is, he likes bikesnobnyc.)

So that's it, a not-quite-exhaustive survey of cargo bikes. I'm sure there are others out there, let me know if there's a favorite of yours that I missed.

Bike-onomics, or, What Succeeds the Bike?

Here's a link to an article in the Week in Review section of last Sunday's New York Times. It's an article about technological advance and the "creative destruction" of capitalism (a timely topic, you might concur.) It starts with the (to me) exceeding provocative statement, "By some logic, there is no earthly reason why bicycles should still exist." It's a very interesting article, and (as is often the case with the NYT) so very timely on many fronts. (So go on, read it, don't worry, we'll still be here when you're done..)

The author, Catherine Rampell, makes the statement that "older technologies have survived by recasting themselves as luxuries and by marketing their sensory, aesthetic and nostalgic appeal." I wouldn't disagree with that, exactly, but Ms. Rampell does miss (or perhaps chooses to ignore) the point that bicycles do have a straight-ahead economic advantage: they are greatly less expensive to operate than automobiles for trips of a certain length, say daily commutes of 10 miles or less. There's just no comparison, and commuting bicyclists' blogs are replete with stories of how much money they've saved, ad nauseaum. Ms. Rampell might make the argument that such extra modality makes no sense, even if there are savings to be had. I would respond that I know of people who (even today) find cross-country driving more economical than flying, and do so for that very reason.

But I think the article raises an interesting question: what would it take to render the bicycle obsolete, at least as a practical means of transportation, or to marginalize it to such a degree that its only practical use is as a "fresh-air exercise machine"? I say this knowing full well that there are those of us "hard-core" individuals who will let you take our bikes only when you can pry our cold, dead fingers, etc., and it can reasonably be argued (by someone who lacks the personal daily joy of same) that bicycle commuting is inherently a fanatic kind of activity, even if economical.

Well, here's a candidate for a vehicle technology that might someday render the bicycle obsolete except for us fanatics: the Twill Wicked. What if you could have a highly safe personal transportation device, freeway-speed capable, extemely efficient (450-mpg equivalent, say), and capable of existing totally "off the grid", for which a solar panel of less than 4 square meters would suffice to supply energy for a daily 30 mile commute? What if this vehicle cost $12,000 (the price of a high-end carbon racing bike)? Such are the promised specifications of the Wicked.

To be sure, the Wicked exists right now somewhere between the gleam in the eye of an engineer and a partially-working prototype, no more. But the imagination displayed in this project is remarkable. (Allow me to step up on my soapbox a moment.) It is precisely the lack of this kind of imagination on Detroit's part that is at the root of their current death-throes. I mean, look at the ridiculous Chevy Volt, totally hobbled by the fact that it's designed around a superstructure based on cheap oil. As long as a car is assumed to be a ton-and-three-quarters hunk of metal, the battery requirements to get any kind of decent range will be excessive and costly. The problem is that, since this is what Detroit's "best and brightest" can come up with, this is what the public takes for an "electric vehicle". I don't assign any form of conspiracy theory here along the lines of "Who Killed the Electric Car?", rather I just think it's gross incompetence. (end soapbox) Maybe the the Wicked is what will replace the car, maybe the Aptera. Or a vehicle being brewed in any one of a thousand garages right now.

But I'm not worried about them replacing the bicycle. No time soon, anyway.

2539.7

..is what it reads on my cyclo-computer odometer (which I reset on January 1) right now. It being just past the Ides of November, I expect I may (if I'm lucky) get in 3 or at most 4 weeks more of commuting in before the end of the year. This past week, I got in 3 days, had one day lost to bad weather, and one day lost because of having to make a business trip into Washington, DC.

My goal for the year was to displace 3,000 miles of car travel. To me, this meant 3,000 miles of trips that I would have made anyway in a car — commuting, errands, etc., so recreational cycling wouldn't technically count. I feel like I've gotten pretty close, no matter what the rest of the year looks like. I'm particularly happy in comparison to last year, when I cycled only about 2200 miles, over 500 of which were weekend recreational miles. (Nothing wrong with them, except they don't displace auto miles.) I got a late start this year, no cycling in January, which was pretty inclement, and precious little in February. I'm just going to have to get out more in winter if I want to make my goal next year, which I'm setting at 3,300 miles. (You read it here first.)

So, (shifting gears here a little,) as part of the Great Financial Bailout of 2008, the Bicycle Commuting Act was passed. This allows employers to provide fringe benefits to their bicycle-commuting employees of up to $20 and provide various tax incentives for same. I don't know how a "bicycle commuter" is defined; there are several guys at my office who are "bicycle decorators", i.e., they use bikes for office decor, but they don't ride them very much. One article I read says that if you ride your bike 60% of the time, you would be considered a bicycle commuter. So I broke out my calculator:

48 weeks* x 5 days x 17.6 miles in my RT commute = 4224 miles per year at 100% utilization.

(* I figured 52 weeks - 3 weeks vacation - 1 week holidays)

So at 60% utilization, 4224 x 0.6 = 2534.4 miles. This means that on my last ride home this past week, I became a bicycle commuter for the year. Whoo-hoo!

Seriously, I do a good amount of business travel, which should fairly be excluded. And there are other extenuating circumstance -- no one should have to cycle in a downpour. Not only is it not fun, it's dangerous. But I know that by US standards, I'm a cycling fiend. It just goes to show that the bar for defining "cycle commuter" has not been set too low by our friends in Congress.

For a NY Times article on the Bicycle Commuting Act, go here. For more information on the Congressional Bike Caucus (presumably a good place to write to do some informal lobbying,) go here.

Cycling Movies

There haven't been that many English-language dramatic movies about bicycling made since the 19th-century "Ritchie the Tramp Bicyclist" (1899, UK, silent).

The late screenwriter Steve Tesich wrote a couple of movies in the late 1970's and 1980's.

"Breaking Away" (1979) was an (I guess you'd say) "sweet" kind of coming-of-age movie, set in a small Midwest college town. One of a group of four friends gets caught up in the romance of bike racing and the movie follows him and his buddies through the changes of late adolescence. The protagonist is Dennis Christopher, backed up by a very young Dennis Quaid, 4 years before he found a broader audience in The Right Stuff. Here's the Netflix entry. Tesich won an Oscar for the Breaking Away screenplay. (Rating: 7.6, imdb)

(PS: Check out the poster at right: What's wrong with this picture?)


Six years later, Tesich wrote "American Flyers" (1985) starring Kevin Costner, 2 years before he found a broader audience with Untouchables, and Jennifer Grey. I haven't seen American Flyers, so I can't give you a personal plot synopsis, but here's what Internet Movie Database has to say: Sports physician Marcus persuades his unstable brother David to come with him and train for a bicycle race across the Rocky Mountains. He doesn't tell him that he has a cerebral tumor. While David powerfully heads for the victory, Marcus has to realize that the contest is now beyond his capabilities. / Features great views of the Rockies and an insight in the tactics of bicycle races. Here's the Netflix entry. (Rating: 5.9, imdb)


Now the movie that inspired this post: "The Flying Scotsman" (2006) starring Jonny Lee Miller and the versatile Scots actor Billy Boyd of Lord of the Rings fame. This is the fascinating true story of Graeme Obrey, the Scotsman who held two world records in the 1-hour track time trial (on a bike of his own design and fabrication) and was World Pursuit Champion in 1993 and 1995. This is a dramatic and engaging story that has it all: competition, desire, conflict (Obrey and the World Cycling Federation were in conflict for years over his unconventional methods and designs) and (even) mental instability. I wholly recommend this movie.

You'll note that I qualify in the first sentence of this posting the "English language". Let me warn you that (especially for the American ear) parts of the dialogue in Flying Scotsman in in such a thick brogue you may need to turn on the subtitles in English (yes, they have English subtitles in a Scottish movie!) Here's the Netflix entry. (Rating 7.1 imdb)