“Inventor” of Bakfiets on Bakfiets en Meer.

Henry Cutler writes a nice entry in Bakfiets-en-Meer about the “inventors” of the Bakfiets. Yet, still up in the air about who is the true inventor of these types of bikes, our own Oscar Mulder had sent to him some scans of photos of old “Long-John” types of bikes and a photo of the bike shop his grandfather owned dated in the 1910-1915 range.

Yet, still an undetermined inventor(s), these photos along with Henry’s writeup brings us a little closer towards the history and origin of the Bakfiets/Long John type of bike. You can read Henry’s blog entry here: The “Inventor” of the Bakfiets.

William Hsu | My Dutch Bike

Gear Inches and Retrovelo Ponyvelo Project

We have recently been exploring lower and wider gear range options for our Retrovelo Ponyvelo. We have two Ponyvelos a red single-speed and a blue 2-speed. The 2-speed is equipped with a Schlumpf Speed Drive internally geared crankset. The crankset is fully enclosed and is really nifty because it requires no cables. To change gears, you simply click the button on the bottom bracket with your h This changeseal and will engage the Overdrive option. The gear ratio on these Schlumpfs are 1:1 (direct drive) and 1:1.65 (overdrive).

Before I get into our blue Retrovelo newly equipped with an Alfine rear internally geared hub, I want to talk about gear inches.

Gear inches was originally derived from the diameter of the front wheel of the old Penny-farthing using its direct drive pedaling system. Gear inches are numerical measurements to gauge how low or high a gear is. On penny-farthings, one full rotation of the pedal is equivalent to one full rotation of the wheel. Nowadays, we do not use wheels as big as the front wheel of a Penny-farthing, but rather 700c, 26″ and in our case, 28″ are more prevalent. The Ponyvelo in question, takes a 24″ wheel. If your rear sprocket and your front chainring were the same size, it would be a 1:1 ratio, meaning one full rotation of the pedals would take you one rotation on the wheel. In our case, a 22T chainring and 22T cog would be 24 gear inches (due to the diameter of the wheel).

This gear inch (and ratio) will change if you change the size of the sprocket or chainring. For example, if the front chainring were 48T and the rear sprocket was 24T, it would mean that one full rotation of the pedals would turn the wheel two times. Thus, using a 24″ wheel, would be equivalent to 48 gear inches because of it’s double rotation.

The Shimano Alfine 8-speed rear hub uses its direct drive ratio (1.0) at Gear 5. At Gear 1, it is 0.527 of its Gear 5. For the Ponyvelo, we used a 22T rear cog and the front chainring is 27T. This means at Gear 5, the gearing is 27T x 22T. Below, I’ve compiled a chart to show the total gear ratios and inches for both direct drive and over-drive.

Thus, using direct drive on the lowest gear (Gear 1), you can see, one full rotation of the cranks will only turn the wheel 2/3rds, thus gearing it really low! This is perfect for the hills of San Francisco.

Below are some more build photos of this setup. Enjoy!

William Hsu | My Dutch Bike

Vintage videos from two places we call “home.”

I found two videos from two places we call “home” at My Dutch Bike - The Netherlands and San Francisco.

The first video comes to us from the Netherlands taking place in the 1950′s. I noted in this video the type of bicycles I saw were predominantly city bikes with riders at very upright sitting positions. The types of bikes you see in this video have not changed much to the bicycles you would see in the Netherlands today. Coincidence? I think not. If one was to ride a bicycle every day as second nature to get from one location to the the next destination, it would make sense to be in an upright sitting position as nobody wants to be stretched out while carrying groceries or a passenger on the rear. That brings me to my next point.

Just as Holland is known for bicycling as a means of transportation, it is also known for bikes carrying another person or several children or even dogs. Seems like they were doing this 60 years ago and continue to do it today, but have further specialized in types of bicycles to do these duties (i.e. - Bakfiets).

I noted in this video and also from my previous trip to Amsterdam that nobody in the Netherlands seem to wear helmets. Having come from San Francisco, almost everyone is wearing a helmet. There is even a mandatory helmet law for riders under the age of 18 in San Francisco and almost everyone over the age of 18 still continues to wear a helmet. Despite safety preferences, I was informed by some Amsterdam locals that this preference was more of a result of cultural upbringings. I understood that as bicycles were just another integral component in everyday life (just like something as plain as socks in one’s life), the Dutchman I spoke to told me that he didn’t necessarily consider his bicycle as a “vehicle” and that by wearing a helmet, it would further deem his bicycle as a vehicle rather than something he would get around. He then told me he doesn’t wear kneepads when he walks and falls, so why would he a wear a helmet biking as slow-city speeds anyway?

The second video isn’t so bicycle-specific as it is more just a glimpse of the Market Street corridor in San Francisco in the 1900′s. As some of you may know, we are currently located on Market Street in San Francisco at between 2nd Street and Sutter Street.

The music accompanying the video is actually by Air, titled La Femme D’Argent (The Woman of Silver/Money) and it shows a video taken on a streetcar going down Market Street towards what is known today as the Ferry Building at the Embarcadero in 1905. While it’s not a video mainly about bicycles, you can see bicycles, horse drawn carriages, cars and pedestrians running around in the way of this streetcar. I have to say Market Street has come a long way since then because riding a bicycle on that street in 1905 doesn’t seem all that enjoyable.

Our shop would be about 5:00 minutes into the video on the right-hand side 105 years later!

William Hsu | My Dutch Bike

Ode to my Retrovelo - A poem by Seonaidh Davenport

In light of our new Retrovelo bicycles coming in early this week, I thought we could get into the Retrovelo spirit by sharing a poem by Seonaidh Davenport from Seattle, Washington. Seonaidh writes about her beautiful blue Klara in this poem.

William Hsu | My Dutch Bike

Put It on a Table

Or

Ode to Bluebird

I have chosen the “Put It on a Table” exercise outlined by Daniel Pink. The object of focus in the Retrovelo bicycle that my husband gave me for my fortieth birthday over a year ago. The shipment from Europe was delayed, so Brian gave me a photo, which I fell in love with. Every few days we checked in on the progress, and the anticipation built up deliciously. Finally, the thrilling visit to the store to see it and touch it and make the color choice!!! I felt like I imagine picking out a diamond might—it reminded me of the glow of shopping for a ring after he proposed. I named her Bluebird.

When I look at and ride Bluebird, it makes me think of….

I confess that I think about my Bluebird a lot: I ride it almost every day, and for the summer, she was casually propped on her kickstand on our backyard path, fetchingly positioned against the iris and hammock, as shown on the cover to this document (though be warned, the blue isn’t coming through nearly as fetchingly as it does in real life).

Every time my eyes follow her lines, I think of my husband, his generosity, his sense of style, and the sheer joy I take in our marriage. But I confess, my joy in the bike has very much to do with its form and the way I feel when I ride it.

Bluebird is the cycling equivalent of a European sports car from an earlier era. She is curvy and sleek, powerful and compact, and I feel as glamorous as Vesper Lynd (hopefully not as ill-fated).

Other powerful emotions:

. . . Self-reliance. Stepping on and powering my bike with my muscles, going where I need to go, quietly, feeling the miles and seeing the sights, smelling the smells, and hearing all the sounds.

. . . The atavistic joy of precisely swooping around corners and coming back upright again… it recalls a quick turn skiing down a groomed slope, the delight of banking a small plane.

. . . Puckish delight in arriving at a hotel and having a bellman hand me a valet ticket for my bike as I check in.

I feel racy, I feel naughty and sexy and beautiful on this bike. And it doesn’t hurt that I almost can’t go for a ride without someone complimenting it. So I guess the other emotion, not so pretty, is vanity? That does make me feel a little squirmy. But I love that it is also a great conversation starter, too, with other cyclists.

How does Bluebird affect each of my five senses?

Smell:

I associate myriad smells with the bike: the smells of the bakery in the morning when I dash out for pastries on a weekend and the smells of the stands at the farmer’s market stand out most prominently, but it is really the fact that I travel and smell the world around me on my bike that I love. I was going to say the bike itself doesn’t have a smell, but that isn’t quite true: there is the smell of the wooden saddle that reminds me of the saddle I used to soap and oil meticulously when I rode my horse as a girl. There is the slight back-of-the-palate brush of metal and bike oil as well.

Taste:

I haven’t licked Bluebird, but I do confess I consider it from time to time.

Auditory:

Being able to hear the world around me is lovely. But three distinct audio cues: slight squeak of the srings on my saddle as I pedal, setting a metronome beat that I’ve come to find comforting.

What I do NOT hear, though, is the rattle of ill-fitting fenders or juddering racks. My paniers fit smoothly and the machine holds together with an almost Teutonic rightness.

I revel in the old-fashioned rrrr-rrring, school-marmish and playful at the same time. Whether warning a pedestrian of my presence or bantering with my husband and daughter on their bike bells, that sound makes me smile.

As does hearing the leitmotif for the wicked witch of the west being hummed in my wake.

Visual:

The sense I have is of an utterly perfect composition and balance in form and color. Bluebird has a deliciously sensual palette of cornflower blue, cream-colored tires, and warm leather browns. Every line is considered and crafted with great care, with not a whisker out of place. The frame is compact and steel, strong as a little Arabian. Every joint is smooth or makes honest declaration of itself in a well-placed bolt. Headlight and taillight are delightfully retro – the headlight is rather like one off an old jalopy-but wickedly powerful, driven by my pedaling.

The internal hub and chain casing are discreet and tidy, superb for city riding. The proportions are dead-on, rack and frame and fork just perfectly balanced and solid. Except for a single penciled stroke outward of brake cables, every cable is cleanly and lovingly contained within the frame.

My Fat Frank tires, a cross between 30’s-seeming motorcycle wheels and the lushly upholstered bench seats of a celebrity’s car in the same era….they can only be described as creamy and ample.

In short, the lines of every component work in harmony with every other, with superb detailing and a jaunty confidence.

Touch:

I will go ahead and say it. Bluebird begs to be caressed. Smooth joints, clean lines, perfectly integrated. Cool colors you almost want to dip your fingers into. I do brush my fingers over the lines of the triple crown fork post now and again, just because the art deco detail is so luscious.

Kinetic:

This is tied up with the form. Because it is so carefully crafted, because of all the choices coming together, it is a delectable riding experience. As you might guess from the soundtrack, I sit upright. Positively, Danishly so. I love riding in a little dress to meet my husband somewhere, but it’s just increadibly pleasing no matter what I am wearing to walk outside and step through to ride, whatever the clothing, whatever the shoes (high heels or flip flops, but please no cleats).

The bike is stable, the fat tires give a smooth ride and I positively revel in crossing railroad tracks. The saddle is comfortable and grows more so as the leather shapes itself to my body. Brakes are drum brakes, so they are crisp and responsive. The internal hub gear shifters that allow for twisting handles eliminates little levers. They also provide quite a nice range of gears, so I can go really anywhere comfortably. All wearing exactly what I like.

Now, I must confess, there is the matter of Gear 5. Right in the middle of the range, a sudden downshift to 5 sometimes leaves me with gears slipping, lost pedal footing and a surprising shock to the pelvis. Like a temperamental horse, so I’m even almost fondly resigned to that, I suppose.

But truly, every component works together to sing as I ride, whether along the sound on the Myrtle Edwards trail with the glorious vista of the Olympic Mountain Range across the Sound, or the most mundane of errands.

Oh how I love thee, my Bluebird.

A Typical Monday Morning Commute in Amsterdam.

I took the following video while standing at the corner of Marnixstraat and Elandsgracht on my way to Workcycles. Observe how fluid the bicycle traffic is in Holland, note that none of them ever really come to a complete stop where they have to put their foot down. They tend to yield, let the other pass and then pedal on. I feel like like Dutch bicycle riders are probably some of the most skilled riders in the world just being able to maintain such an overall fluid bicycle system with such high bicycle traffic density.

In Amsterdam, bicycles have the right of way over pedestrians and also automobiles. The exception is that bicycles <em>do </em>have to yield to trams. Collisions between bicycles and bicycles or bicycles and pedestrians or cars do happen on a daily basis, but most bicyclists are skilled enough to avoid any major injuries. The bicycles themselves, for the most part, come out still unharmed due to their solid construction. It’s common to see bicycles from the 1940′s or earlier on the streets in Holland because they are built to last and withstand all the elements Holland has to bring.

William Hsu | My Dutch Bike

Travels

Two bicycles parked out in the alleyway near the flowermart.

I recently made a trip to Amsterdam to not only learn a bit more about the mechanics of drum/roller brakes, internally geared hubs and generator lights, but also just to absorb the culture in Holland.

What I found in Amsterdam is that bicycles aren’t really thought of as a “culture” or a “means of transportation,” but rather just a way of life. Bicycles are incorporated in everything. From the way they get around town, just going down the street, carrying groceries or children or even as a front of the shop display, bicycles are present.

A Pashley bread(cheese) bike parked out as decoration in front of a cheese shop.

If you are taking the time to read this, you most likely are fond of bicycling or fond of the idea of bicycling. All socio-economic groups in Amsterdam ride bicycles and it works out due to the lay of their land. The terrain is flat, the streets are narrow and there are dedicated bicycle lanes almost on every street. It is the perfect setting for bicycles to be a quick way of getting around and the perfect setting for not allowing automobiles to do so. Most of the United States does not offer this type of urban environment, but I believe that a bicycle lifestyle should still be promoted for health and convenience reasons, but most of all - it’s just fun!

William Hsu | My Dutch Bike