I don’t consider myself especially mechanically inclined, but I did get an early start. My brother is four years older than me, and he’s one of those people with an insatiable curiosity about how things work and what’s under the hood. He drove my parents nuts when he was a kid because no matter what kind of new thing he brought home, he immediately had to take it apart to see what was inside. Most of the time he was able to reassemble what he took apart, but much to their chagrin, he occasionally ruined something because neither him, nor my Dad, could solve the puzzle of reassembly. It was my brother’s influence and guidance (misguidance?) that got me started wrenching on our bicycles well before the age of 10.

Eventually, we both ended up racing motocross (motorcycles) which was a real education in mechanics. We raced every weekend for years, and our bikes took a beating. To be competitive, you had to really step it up and learn how to tune your motorcycles. The top riders in the area had sponsorships and their bikes were maintained by pro mechanics, but we were on our own to keep our bikes rolling and competitive. This racing experience was a great foundation for maintaining bicycles.

All that experience came in handy when I started mountain biking back in the early 80’s. At that time, I was living in the Pacific Northwest. Early mountain bikes were not much different than road bikes, and very few specialized parts for off-road riding were available. We rode in the forest on the Olympic Peninsula (essentially a rain forest), and our bikes took a terrible beating every weekend. We rode single track and spent a lot of time in ankle deep mud, fording streams, and crossing football-field-length “puddles”. None of our bearings were what would be considered “sealed” bearings today, which meant every outing had to be followed by a total overhaul of every bearing on the bike. The routine involved disassembling both hubs, the headset, and the bottom bracket, flushing everything (including the freewheel), then repacking everything with grease (or Phil’s Tenacious Oil in the case of the freewheel). Out on the trail, the bearings flushed out so fast that we’d each carry our own bottle of Phil’s to squirt in our bottom brackets and hubs to keep everything from seizing up on us… LOL!

Compared to motorcycles or cars, bicycles are a cinch to work on. Just about everything is exposed, and even a complex task like rebuilding an internal gear hub isn’t so intimidating when compared to working on a modern internal-combustion-powered vehicle. Traditional bicycles with derailleur drivetrains and rim brakes are probably the simplest of all; if anything goes wrong, the problem is usually very easy to diagnose because the parts are out there in full view to observe. I think this utter simplicity is a real advantage, particularly for folks who don’t have a lot of mechanical experience.

I’d encourage anyone who hasn’t done so to pick up a few tools and try a little basic wrenching. There’s not much you can do to harm a bike, and the satisfaction derived from doing your own maintenance is its own reward. And even if, by chance, you don’t end up enjoying the process, having a more intimate understanding of how your bike works is not a bad thing.

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All too often, motorists attempt to justify their poor treatment of bicyclists by blaming so-called “scofflaw bicyclists”, as if somehow it’s OK to mistreat one bicyclist simply because some other bicyclist disregarded the law at some point in the past. Even if there were large numbers of bicyclists who disdain the law (this has certainly not been my experience), it would still not justify the mistreatment of bicyclists by motorists.

What I believe is really at work here is the fact that bicyclists are vulnerable and somewhat powerless when up against motorists, and that this inequity emboldens a few motorists to abuse bicyclists in a way they would never consider if they were face-to-face with the same person outside of their vehicle. The anonymity of being inside a car causes some people to behave more aggressively than they would otherwise, and when up against a bicyclist who has very little ability to defend or retaliate, it’s just all too easy to mistreat the bicyclist. In my opinion, it’s these underlying attitudes, not the behavior of a small group of mysterious “scofflaw bicyclists” who are “ruining it for the rest of us”, that are fueling the mistreatment of bicyclists by motorists.

Bob Mionske summed it up best when he said, “If every cyclist obeyed every traffic law, do you think we’d have harmony? No. Look at how motorists treat each other.”

Grocery Shopping

Up until a few years ago, we rode predominately for fun, entertainment, and exercise. Typically, we’d go for long rides in the country or load the bikes in the van and drive to a riding destination outside of the city. We did very little riding to replace car trips.

Now we ride predominately for transportation. We use our bikes for commuting, shopping, and general errands around town. We still own one car, but bikes play a much more important role in our lives than they have in the past.

There are a couple of unexpected benefits that came out of changing how we use bikes. One is that we actually put in more annual miles now than we did when we rode solely for sport. Our typical rides are shorter, but we ride more frequently, sometimes getting on the bikes numerous times throughout the day. The second is that we actually enjoy riding more now than we did when we were riding only for “fun”. This is probably the most unexpected result of changing our focus. Now, riding is fully integrated into our lives and there is absolutely no competitive or sporting aspect to it. This change of emphasis and attitude has made our time on the bikes more relaxed and social, which in turn has made it more enjoyable.

We’d be curious to know how you approach bicycling. Do you ride only for transportation? Do you also ride for sport, participating in organized rides and/or races? What kind of mix works best for you, and what type of riding do you enjoy the most? Feel free to elaborate in the comment area below.

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Michael is the other, not-so-public half of the team that is EcoVelo. She does a lot of the behind-the-scenes work and this site would not exist without her help. This is typical for Michael; she’s always eager to do the heavy lifting, but she’s more comfortable when the spotlight is on others.

There’s an interesting story about Michael that I’ve been wanting to share, a story she rarely talks about for fear of bringing too much attention to herself. Finally, after much convincing on my part, she’s reluctantly allowed me to tell it, with the hope that it might provide some encouragement and inspiration.

Not so long ago, Michael weighed 240 lbs. She wasn’t always this weight — in her 20’s she weighed approximately 160 lbs. — but kids, a job in the food industry, and a sedentary lifestyle eventually caught up with her. In 2005, at the age of 33, she decided she didn’t like where she was headed, so she embarked upon a program to get in shape.

Having never been an athlete, she started slowly by joining the local “Curves” health club. Curves was a great introduction, and she religiously attended classes, but in just a couple of months she outgrew the program and moved over to a larger, full-service health club. There she dove into various classes, eventually working up to a point of exercising approximately 2 hours per day, 5 days a week, mixing three days of weight training with two days of high intensity cardio, all topped off with 45-60 minutes of low intensity cardio each day. During this same time period she discovered bicycling and started working active transportation into her lifestyle.

Along with the exercise, she also made big changes to her diet. She eliminated virtually all animal products, refined carbs, and processed food from her diet. Fast food was out, as was soda, alcohol, and “frappucinos”. She replaced her previously high-fat/sugar/salt diet with a healthy, plant-based diet centered around locally grown fruits and vegetables. During this time period she also turned herself into an accomplished vegetarian cook, using the internet to research nutrition and technique.

You’ve heard the old saying, “Showing up is half the battle.” Michael likes the saying, but she says it should read “Showing up is most of the battle.” She’s really good at showing up. Using the above self-designed program, she was able to lose 95 lbs. over a 21 month period using no drugs, surgeries, TV shows, or fad diets. She firmly believes anyone can do what she did with a simple program of diet and exercise if they’ll just stick to it (that’s a big “if”). She’s maintained her healthy weight for three years running and has since cut back to exercising 1.5 hours per day, 4 days a week while incorporating even more active transportation into her daily routine.

At this point, Michael’s new healthy lifestyle is the norm and she has no doubt it’s 100% sustainable for the rest of her life. And most importantly, she says she’s never felt better. Her tenacity and willingness to “show up” make her a daily inspiration to friends, family, and just about everyone who knows her.

Made in Taiwan

Not everyone may realize this, but nearly all low-to-mid level bicycles available at dealers in the U.S. are imported from China. It’s only when you get to the mid-to-upper level that you start seeing bikes made in Taiwan. In effect, Taiwan has become the new Japan, and the Japanese-made bikes that were reasonably priced and nearly ubiquitous for decades have completely disappeared, out-priced by the Chinese and Taiwanese. The cause for this shift mostly comes down to the cost of labor, the value of the dollar, and what we’re willing to spend as consumers. It’s good to remember that if you’re advocating for ever cheaper bicycles, you’re also advocating for production in China. As for U.S. made bikes, plan on bare framesets starting at around $1500-2000 and going up from there. A majority of the complete bikes made in the U.S. are priced in the stratosphere, well on the other side of $3K.

There’s an interesting article in the New Internationalist that talks about the possibility of Chinese investors moving some bicycle production back to the U.S. What an irony that would be! Here’s an excerpt:

Imagine a U.S. branded and manufactured entry-level bike, produced at a Chinese-designed factory with U.S. labor, sold right here in the States. The idea sounds a little far-fetched after seeing so many companies take production of low-cost bikes overseas, but it would certainly be a good thing on a number of levels if it actually happens.

The New Internationalist →

While discussing bicycles someone will occasionally make a statement to the effect of, “A frame is just something to hang parts on.” I’ve never quite understood this thinking. In my mind, a frame determines the character of a bike by having the greatest influence on fit, ride quality, appearance, and longevity. Modern materials and manufacturing techniques have done much to lower our expectations regarding craftsmanship and frame longevity, but a well-crafted frame has the potential to last decades. Over a span of 20 years or more, one can expect to replace every component on a bike multiple times. So while components (even wheels) are essentially consumables, I believe a well-designed, finely-crafted frame is the heart and soul of a bike.

What do you think? Is the essence of a bike its frame, or is a frame simply a collection of tubes that holds together the more important collection of parts?

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Parting Company

We briefly tried fostering dogs for a local rescue organization but we found it impossible to continue because we too quickly became attached; continuing would have meant a house full of dogs and a visit from the County. Dogs are wonderful, living creatures, and we’re certainly not saying they’re in any way comparable to inanimate objects like bicycles, but testing bikes can sometimes be analogous to fostering dogs: some you just can’t let go and end up becoming a permanent part of your life; others you let go, but not without a measure of regret; and some you can hardly wait to get packed up and out the door (don’t ask ;-)).

We sometimes question all this shipping bikes back-and-forth across the country. We’ve even talked about giving up road tests altogether, though we’ve managed to talk ourselves out of it. Our hope (rationalization?) is that our road tests provide a much-needed platform for what are generally under-marketed transportation bikes. Our thinking is that if we promote bikes that function well as car replacements, more people will be successful in their attempts at going car-lite or car-free, which in turn will encourage further sales of these types of bikes, which in turn will make for more success on the road, and so on in an upward spiral. We’re probably giving ourselves way too much credit for having an influence, but at minimum we hope our positive impact on bicycle use offsets the negative environmental impact of shipping our road test loaners across the country.

I’m fortunate that I’ve had the opportunity to ride an extremely wide variety of bicycles over the past few years, including everything from recumbent tandems, to belt-drive commuters, to compact folders, to English roadsters. A high percentage of these bikes were well-designed and a pleasure to ride. All were limited in some way, because no one bike is appropriate for every use, but most came close to meeting the criteria set forth by their designers, which in my opinion qualifies them as successful designs.

Where things go awry is when we (us riders/consumers) mis-match a bicycle with a use. For example, a recumbent tandem is a lovely bicycle for day-tripping in the country, but it makes a lousy commuter or city bike. A carbon fiber racer is perfect for racing (go figure), but it’s a complete failure as a loaded touring bike (go figure again). And I’d venture to say that I won’t see a lugged-steel touring bike on the podium at Alpe d’Huez in my lifetime… ;-)

I see an awful lot of mud being thrown around the i-net at various bike-types, materials, and brands. In my opinion, much of this criticism is mis-placed because of our proclivity to judge any bicycle only in the context of how we’d personally use it, instead of taking into consideration the goals of the designer and how he/she intended the bike should be used. Judging a bike in the context of its intended use (and considering its intended audience), then comparing it to other bikes intended for the same use, is the only way to get a true measure on the success of a design. Anything short of this is just conjecture and personal preference (something we have plenty of around here, too).

Bike commuting in the suburban hinterlands can be somewhat of a solitary affair. It’s probably hard to comprehend for riders in cities with high bike shares like Portland, Davis, and Boulder, but bike commuters in outlying areas can sometimes feel isolated in a sea of automobiles. These solo commuters aren’t typically members of a bicycling community such as those found in bike-dense urban areas, and they don’t enjoy the benefits of the moral and physical support offered by such communities.

Besides being an opportunity to get out-of-doors, enjoy the day, and have a little fun dressing up, recreational rides like Sacramento’s recent tweed ride provide an opportunity for these lone wolf bicyclists to meet up with like-minded riders. I was amazed by the number of dedicated bike commuters, bike advocates, and fellow bike bloggers we met at yesterday’s event, many of whom would not normally be together in one place to meet up, share ideas, and encourage one another. I think this kind of face time is critically important, and these rides provide a perfect venue for these activities. I can’t imagine another type of ride that would attract such an eclectic mix of riders who share the common goal of promoting transportational bicycling. So, if you’re a solo bike commuter and there’s a tweed ride coming up in your area, keep in mind that it’s not just about having fun (though you most certainly will have a blast), but know that you’ll also have an opportunity to meet other dedicated transpo bicyclists who share your interests and goals.

Road and mountain bikes have travelled a long and winding road over the past 20 years. One may or may not be happy with where they’ve ended up, but it’s hard to dispute the fact that they’ve gone through a dramatic evolution. Natural selection, driven by market forces and the large number of people riding these bikes, has created a homogeneous collection of mostly svelte, carbon fiber racers and fully suspended, monocoque mountain bikes, both of which are far removed from their ancestral beginnings.

Bikes designed to be used specifically as car replacements (we’ll call them “transpo” bikes), have yet to go through this vetting process in the U.S. The data’s not perfectly clear on this, but some studies suggest that at least a small majority of transportational bicyclists in the U.S. ride bicycles not by choice, but because they’ve lost their driver’s license or they can’t afford a car. These bicyclists are more than likely riding whatever bike is available and it’s unlikely they’ve provided significant feedback to the market through bicycle purchases.

We’re just now at the threshold of what I believe is an impending explosion in the number of transportational bicyclists in the U.S. A look at the new models for 2010 indicates that the manufacturers have woken up to this emerging market in a big way. The wide variety of designs being marketed for transportation bodes well for us transpo riders. These bikes are all over the map, with design influences coming in from such diverse areas as track, cyclocross, touring, Dutch, trekking, road, mountain, and others. I believe we’ll see these bikes go through a process of natural selection similar to what we’ve seen with road and mountain bikes. It’s an exciting time to be a transportational bicyclist — I can’t wait to see where we end up!

I see a lot of coverage in the press on bicycling and fashion, much of it fueled by Copenhagen Cycle Chic’s wonderful photos of fashionable Copenhageners living the good life in one of the world’s most bike-friendly cities. It’s undoubtedly a seductive image and one a full-time transportational bicyclist like myself views with envy. The number of Cycle Chic imitators that have cropped up on the web is a testament to our desire to ride bikes in a civilized manner, in an environment where “share the road” means sharing a cycle path with 10,000 other cyclists, not fighting for limited shoulder space with diesel-spewing semi trucks.

I like riding in my street clothes and I recommend it to anyone who isn’t racing, riding extremely long distances, or riding in extreme weather conditions. Riding in street clothes makes us much more likely to hop on a bike for short trips; if I felt the need to throw on bike shorts and a lycra jersey every time I needed something from the grocery store, the day-to-day utility of my bike would be greatly diminished.

I do have reservations about placing too much emphasis on bike fashion though. The reality is that the U.S. is not Denmark, and our infrastructure is such that we truly do “share” the road with motor vehicles. Even in cities with high ridership and mature infrastructure, you’re highly unlikely to find a complete system of separated facilities. Given that here in the U.S. most of us ride very close to automobiles at least some of the time, it may be prudent to set aside our desires to be fashionable and do what we can to make ourselves visible to motorists.

A simple way to dramatically increase your visibility is by wearing a decidedly unfashionable chartreuse safety vest. A lightweight vest can be thrown over whatever you’re already wearing. Some are packable and compress down small enough to go in a seat bag or coat pocket. All are ugly as sin but may actually prevent a collision.

I have to admit, I don’t always wear a safety vest, just like I don’t always wear a helmet. But during high traffic commute hours, or when the light is low at dawn or dusk, I usually set aside vanity and let better judgement determine my riding attire.

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A good friend and I have been engaging in an ongoing and amiable debate regarding what constitutes a good commuting/utility bike. He was the editor of a bicycle magazine for many years and speaks from a position of immense knowledge and authority, so he’s a great person to spar with if you want to learn a thing or three. I quite enjoy confronting him with controversial ideas — some of which I don’t necessarily wholeheartedly agree with myself — just to see where it leads our discussion. Something interesting almost always comes out of these exchanges.

Recently, this friend has been on a quest to learn everything there is to know about traditional Dutch (and English) Roadsters. He lives in the Pacific Northwest and he believes the Northern European pedigree of Dutch bikes may transfer well to the rainy climate where he lives. He’s learned much, and shared much with me, about band brakes and internal gear hubs, load carrying and how it relates to frame geometry, the pros and cons of chain cases, and on-and-on. At this point, he’s almost, but not quite, convinced that traditional Roadsters (particularly those of the Dutch variety) represent the ultimate in practical bikes for daily transportation, at least for riders who live in a dank-and-damp climate and don’t have many hills to climb.

Always one to play the Devil’s Advocate when it comes to discussions around bike design, I’ve been throwing it back at him, advocating for more modern, higher performance, U.S.-centered commuter bike designs such as those from Civia, Breezer, Rivendell, Raleigh, and others. I live in Northern California, where on a wet year I’m likely to encounter heavy rain on no more than 20-30 commute days; I don’t need a bike that can withstand sitting in the rain 150 days a year. I also don’t mind working on bikes, maintaining drivetrains, and adjusting brakes and the like.

For the soggy conditions in which he rides, enclosed drivetrains and brakes make sense. He likes drum or band brakes because, unlike rim brakes, they don’t create brake sludge. He likes enclosed chain cases because they protect the drivetrain from the elements. He’s not 100% sold on internal gear hubs, though he likes the concept for ease of use (his reservations have to do with the difficulty of repairing IGHs in the event of a failure). Of course he insists upon fenders and racks. He prefers integrated lighting systems with internal wiring. He wants a bike that won’t be damaged if it’s parked out in the rain everyday. He doesn’t care much about performance or weight, so he doesn’t mind the fact that most traditional Roadsters are built like bricks and are quite heavy.

Here in suburban California, everything is spread out, so getting anywhere on a bike can take a while. I rode a Pashley for over a year, and it’s a lovely bike in many regards. But like my wife said about her Princess just the other day, it’s a bike that likes to go one speed (slow), and as long as you’re not in a hurry or don’t need to travel too far, it’s a nice ride.

The thing is, we’re covering longer distances on a regular basis, and for us, lighter, faster bikes make the trip more enjoyable. We’re not talking racing bikes with skinny tires, but practical bikes that share some characteristics with traditional Roadsters while being manufactured with modern materials to reduce weight and increase performance. These bikes may also be missing some accessories that are unessential for our climes and limited cargo carrying needs.

For example, a bike like the Rivendell Sam Hillborne is a sweet ride for someone who has a longer commute, has access to indoor bike parking, and has the need to carry only up to touring loads. The Hillborne I’m riding is outfitted with a traditional component set including a triple crank, 8-speed cassette, bar-end shifters, and high profile cantilever brakes. My friend, who lives in the rain forest, has little interest in an exposed drivetrain or rim brakes like on this bike, and I can certainly understand that. But it’s a non-issue for me, and I’d rather have a lighter bike with a lively frame, wide range gearing, and exposed drivetrain components that are less expensive and easier to adjust and replace in case of a failure.

My Civia takes a different approach, with a full Alfine group including IGH, generator hub, and hydraulic discs. It’s a bit of an enigma in that it’s built with high-tech materials, yet the components are essentially maintenance-free following the traditional Dutch lead. The Breezers and some modern European Roadsters fit this model as well. I think of the Hyland as the bicycle equivalent of a modern automobile such as a Honda Accord or Toyota Prius; very high-tech and very reliable, but not necessarily easy to service or repair at home for most people. The approach is basically, “ride it until it makes a funny noise, then take it to the dealer for service”, which is a totally legitimate approach and a great way to maintain a bike for many people. What the Civia has over traditional Roadsters is higher performance in nearly every regard.

I could ramble on about individual bikes and their unique mix of design priorities all day (oops, I guess I’ve already done that). Like most bikes, Dutch Roadsters are the result of a process of natural selection, which makes them ideally suited to the wet climes and flat terrain where they were developed. Bikes like the Rivendell and the Civia are coming out of a different lineage altogether, and arguably, may be more well-suited to the varied and expansive terrain found in some areas of the United States. Ultimately, I believe local conditions are everything, and local conditions probably do more to determine our specific preferences than any overarching advantages or disadvantages inherent within differing bike designs.

New York Press gave Janette Sadik-Khan, Commissioner of the New York City Department of Transportation, a “Best of Manhattan 2009″ award for spearheading the move to close Broadway from Central Park to Union Square:

And while they’ve managed to close a portion of Broadway in NYC to car traffic, here in our City they’re talking about opening the only major pedestrian-only street in the area to automobiles. Talk about moving in exactly the wrong direction. We need a Sadik-Khan here in the state capital.

The 2007 New York City Bicycle Survey lists a lack of secure bike parking as one of the main reasons people don’t commute by bike. While having a safe place to store a bicycle is certainly important to any bike commuter, bike parking and storage is an issue for everyday utility bicyclists as well.

Our city has made great progress developing off-street bike paths and extending our network of on-street bike lanes, but one area that has been overlooked is bike parking. Because shopping destinations are on private property, development of bike parking facilities is left to private developers and decisions on what type of facilities will be built are made on an individual basis. The outcome of this scattershot approach has not been good.

The bike parking facilities at many of our local shopping areas are inconsistent at best and non-existent at worst. Many of the bike racks are poorly designed and are likely to damage bicycles. Often there are not enough spaces. It’s not uncommon to see bikes carelessly leaned against other bikes with little regard for damage. In many locations bike racks are completely absent and bicyclists are left to fend for themselves, locking up to stair rails, sign posts, benches, or whatever immovable object is close at hand.

What we need are standard recommendations for bike parking facilities that tie-in with the development of other facilities such as bike lanes and off-street bike paths. Allowing developers to decide what type of bike parking is required is almost a guarantee that the facilities will be underfunded and inadequate.

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This innocuous little chart says an awful lot about why the automobile continues to reign supreme in the U.S. Until that bottom line comes more in line with the others, no amount of advocacy work is going to create the kind of sea change we’re all hoping for.

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I like to think of myself as a good ambassador for bicycling. I always endeavor to ride by the rules of the road, I nearly always wave and say “hi” to pedestrians and other bicyclists, and I do my best to cooperate with my fellow users on multi-use paths. But, no matter how hard I try, every now and again something doesn’t go quite right.

If you’ve visited this blog before, you know a portion of my commute takes me along a separated bike path. It’s a pleasant stretch of trail that is far preferable to riding on the busier roads that parallel the route. The only problem is that when going my direction, the trailhead is mid-block on the opposite side of a 4-lane divided parkway. The only way to access the trail without back tracking a fair distance is to cross the road at the intersection before the trailhead, then ride the 1/4 block to the trailhead on the sidewalk. I’ve been doing this for two years without incident. (Note: It’s legal to ride a bicycle on the sidewalk in our city).

Today was different. It was pitch black this morning, and I was probably riding a little too fast, when I came upon a man heading my direction walking two dogs. Because we met at a little bend in the sidewalk, we were all startled simultaneously (the dogs, him, and I). I’m sure they were startled worse than I was due to the fact that I have my full 400-lumen winter light set-up installed and I probably looked like a motor vehicle coming down the sidewalk.

Before I had a chance to say “sorry” the man said something to the effect of “there’s a bike lane over there” in a stern voice. I tried to explain to him about the problem of accessing the trailhead while traveling south but he was having none of it and just kept repeating “there’s a bike lane over there”. By now adrenaline was pumping on both sides, and after attempting to explain the situation for the 4th time, I finally gave in to frustration and told him he should “just mind his own business” as we both muttered expletives under our breath and continued on our ways.

The entire episode only lasted a minute and no real harm was done, but it’s been bothering me all day and it took all day to figure out why; in retrospect I think it’s because the situation so unexpectedly spun out of control. Given another chance I would have handled it far differently, but the emotions of the moment took over and turned what should have been a benign encounter into something worse. Certainly, the last thing I wanted to do when I rolled out the front door this morning was startle a pedestrian, argue with him about my right to be on the sidewalk, then part ways angrily.

In hindsight, I have to admit my headlights are far too bright for riding on a sidewalk, even if we’re only talking a 200-foot stretch of rarely travelled sidewalk (until today, I hadn’t encountered a pedestrian at that time of the morning, on that stretch of sidewalk, in over 2 years). Going forward I’ll probably just skip the trail on these dark mornings since my lights may be too bright for other trail users too. Of course, that’s only avoiding the real issue that’s eating at me, the issue of allowing my emotions to draw me into a conflict on the road when I know better and want better, both for myself and for the other bicyclists who will come down the road behind me.

Many people who wouldn’t blink an eye at taking out a 5-year loan to purchase a $15,000-$25,000 motor vehicle would never dream of paying over $500 for a bicycle. Of course, automobiles are much more complex and expensive to manufacture than bicycles, so they should cost more. On the other hand, if a bicycle is to be used for daily transportation and serve as a replacement for an automobile, it makes sense to allocate resources to purchase that bicycle analogous with its true value and usefulness.

I believe that, in general, we expect bicycle prices to be unrealistically low, an expectation that is most likely fueled by our widespread view of bicycles as recreational equipment. Obviously, it’s not prudent to invest a lot of money in a bicycle that will only be taken down from the rafters a few weekends a year and ridden to the local park, but a bicycle that can withstand hard use throughout the year (and over the years) and function reliably as an automobile replacement is going to require a larger investment. In my view, it’s not unreasonable to expect a bicycle being purchased to replace a car to cost 10-20% of the value of the car it replaces.

This is not to say that bicycle manufacturers should raise bicycle prices. To the contrary, we need a good selection of inexpensive bicycles to woo newcomers into the fold and to meet the needs of those with limited resources. And this is not to say a person must spend X number of dollars to obtain a decent bicycle that will function as basic transportation; certainly many (most) of the bicycles being used for transportation fall into the low-to-mid price range. But for dedicated transportational bicyclists who have the resources, even bicycles at the mid-to-upper end of the spectrum are a tremendous value when compared to automobiles, particularly when measured by their functionality and not by their manufacturing costs and complexity.

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How would you classify this bike?

I took a highly informal, unscientific survey of the largest U.S.-focused bicycle manufacturers’ websites to see how they classify their bicycles. What I found may say something about the current state-of-mind of the mainstream bicycle industry in America. Here’s what I discovered:

• The top two categories are Road and Mountain.
• Most of the bikes filed under the Road category are carbon and aluminum racing bikes, with the occasional smattering of transpo/utility bikes in the mix. In many cases, the category could easily have been called Racing.
• Mountain is frequently broken down into sub-categories such as Hardtail and Full-suspension. Depending upon their target market, some manufacturers list Mountain before Road in their menus.
• At one time, Hybrid was a catch-all phrase for any bike that didn’t fall into the Road or Mountain categories. A few companies are still using the Hybrid moniker, though it appears to be on the way out (the term is conspicuously missing from the Trek website).
• Urban is a relatively new category that’s gaining steam. In looking at the bikes listed under Urban there doesn’t appear to be consensus on what qualifies a bike for the category.
• Most manufacturers break out their bikes into gender and age categories. Typically there’s a main category targeted at men (though it may not be listed as such) and smaller Women and Youth sub-categories.
• I didn’t find a single major company that lists Touring as a product category. In years past, the two main bike categories were Racing and Touring. The advent of Lance Armstrong, combined with the rise of the mountain bike, virtually eliminated Touring from the lexicon of the U.S. bike market.
• Beyond that, you get into a variety of names unique to each manufacturer. A few examples include Multi-street, Lifestyle, X-road, Bike Path, Recreation, etc., etc.

I was surprised to find Commuting and Utility mostly absent as categories. We’re definitely seeing more bikes designed to be used for these practical applications, but it appears the major manufacturers are still primarily marketing their bikes as recreational equipment. Perhaps the mainstream U.S. market is ready for the bikes, but not quite ready for the idea of bicycles as tools for transportation.

A Properly Outfitted Utility Bike

We’re tired of messing with bikes that don’t have kickstands. Seemingly simple tasks that we do dozens of times every week such as loading groceries, strapping books on racks, stuffing panniers with clothing, etc., can be real a headache on a bike without a kickstand. We’ve come to the conclusion that no bicycle used for transportation or utility is complete without a kickstand. And if a manufacturer would rather sell their transportation model without a kickstand to save weight or cut costs, there’s really no excuse for not providing a kickstand mounting plate on the frame in the event the owner would like to add a kickstand at a later date.

Your Friend, the Kickstand Plate

Clamp-on style kickstands are available, and they work reasonably well on some bicycles, but in many cases they can damage paint or even permanently damage frame tubes. I’ve seen more than one case of deformed chainstays caused by clamp-on kickstands installed on bikes lacking kickstand plates.

The Click-Stand we reviewed earlier this year is an option for those bikes that absolutely can’t be outfitted with a kickstand. It’s a clever device that works well for what it is, but it doesn’t replace a heavy duty kickstand on bikes used for carrying heavy loads.

We have the opportunity to ride a variety of bikes and without a doubt, those outfitted with kickstands are more useful and get ridden more as a result. Going forward, any bike that we purchase to use for utility and transportation will either come outfitted with an integrated kickstand or a kickstand plate for mounting an aftermarket kickstand; anything short of that will be a tough sale around here.

They say there’s nothing quite like a long ride on a tandem to shine a bright light on a relationship. If the relationship is good, the ride will be too, but if the relationship has its problems, well…

Riding together on individual bikes is not too unlike riding a tandem as a couple. In other words, it can be a real joy or a real pain depending upon how it’s approached. We’ve been riding together for a number of years, and though we’ve experienced a few bumps along the way, we’re fortunate to have a harmonious relationship on the road in which we read each other’s subtle cues and ride together with little effort and zero conflict. We only arrived at this on-road relationship through many, many miles of practice, and lots of talking about how to better communicate and take care of each other while riding our bicycles. Following are a few of the things we think are key to riding smoothly and safely as a couple:

Someone needs to lead and someone needs to follow – It’s usually best if a ride leader is determined before departure to reduce the likelihood of confusion or conflict on the road. Typically the more experienced rider leads.

The slower person determines the pace – The slower person should always determine the ride pace, even if they’re in the following position. It’s the leader’s responsibility to be sure they don’t drop the follower or inadvertently push the pace beyond the comfort level of the slower rider.

The slower person should be on an equal or faster bicycle – If at all possible, the slower rider should be on the faster bike to reduce the speed differential between the two riders. It’s common to see the less-experienced, less-fit rider on the heavier, slower bike, which only undermines the pacing rule above.

The less experienced rider sets the comfort level of the route (traffic levels, infrastructure, distance) – It’s up to the less-experienced rider to determine what type of roads they’re willing to traverse. The leader should never pressure the less-experienced rider into situations in which they’re uncomfortable.

The leader always defers to the less experienced rider unless it’s a safety issue – A less-experienced rider may not understand what they’re getting into and find themselves feeling overwhelmed once they’re on the road. It’s imperative that the leader defers to the follower and respects their need to turn back, take an alternate route, or whatever is necessary to reduce their unease.

Develop a consistent method of communicating (hand signals, voice, visual) – It’s important to learn each other’s signals and cues. Agree upon a set of simple hand signals to indicate upcoming turns, slowing, debris in road, car-behind, etc.

A sure way to put a quick end to a riding relationship is to simply head out the door without a clear understanding of each other’s expectations. Acknowledging each other’s expectations and agreeing upon a plan for the ride, while always putting the other rider’s needs above your own, is the most effective way to ensure a healthy, long-term riding relationship.