Elephant in the City

Meeting up with a friend in Derry for lunch yesterday, I was struck by the number of cyclists out and about. On the path by the river especially, they whizzed past us with merry abandon - a blur of fluttering garments and large wicker baskets... Wait, what! Wicker baskets?

While cycling in Derry has certainly been on the rise for these past few years, it hadn't quite normalised to the point of everyday clothes and full-on wicker basket mode last time I checked. So what bikes exactly were these? When yet another mystery rider went by, I turned to face the path and recognised it immediately: an Elephant Bike!

Gone Postal

When the postman stopped by with today's mail, I doubt he expected to find a two-wheeled ancestor of his delivery machine in my yard. Yet that is exactly what happened.

"Ever ridden one of these?" I asked.

He shook his head vigorously. "How old is this thing anyway?" 

A (Pashley) Penny for Your Thoughts

The Pashley Penny is the companion model to the Parabike I wrote about earlier. This unusual bicycle looks vaguely old-fashioned, but unlike the Parabike it is not based on a specific vintage design. Part cruiser, part mixte and part mountain bike, its uniqueness is enhanced by eccentricities such as the split curved downtubes. The Penny defies classification, and this seems to be how the manufacturer intends it - explaining that the bike "provides the perfect excuse to experience more rural rides."

While the Parabike's aesthetic is defined by the continuous curvature of its top set of twin stays, from head tube to rear dropouts, in the Penny the curve is interrupted and inverted. This difference is so visually dominant that it overshadows the structural similarities between the two bikes. The Penny also lacks the military/historical somberness of the Parabike, coming across as more light-hearted.

Made of cro-moly steel, the Penny is handbrazed and powdercoated in Stratford-upon-Avon in England, like all Pashley bicycles. It is fairly lightweight for its category of bikes, coming in at under 30lb. 

Like the Parabike, the Penny is built for 26" wheels and fitted with 26 x 1.75" Schwalbe Marathon tires. Colour-matched fenders and chainguard are included.

Components include a 5-speed Sturmey Archer hub, hand-operated hub brakes front and rear, a Brooks B67S saddle, a Stronglight crankset, non-slip platform pedals, rubbery "faux cork" grips, and a large bell. Unlike the Parabike, the Penny is set up with straight, rather than swept back, handlebars.

Standing over the bicycle for the first time, I was overwhelmed by all the flowy slender tubes; it was a bit like standing over a swaying rope bridge. Not that the tubes sway. It's the form and the repetition that give that impression of movement. A unique design to be sure.

One thing I had wondered about when seeing pictures of the Penny, was whether the stepover was low enough to be practical. Unlike a traditional mixte, the twin parallel stays here don't extend all the way down to the rear dropouts, but connect to the upper seat stays - which places them rather high. However, this is compensated for by their downward sweep. When mounting the bike, the stepover height resembles that of a typical mixte. 

Riding the Penny, my first impression was that it felt too small for me (I am just under 5'7"). My test riding partner agreed that the Penny's "cockpit," even with the straight handlebars, felt smaller than the Parabike's. Later I looked up the sizes of the two bikes and was surprised to see them described as the same: 19" (48cm). Of course this measurement refers to the seat tube length, and it's possible that the Penny's virtual top tube is shorter than the Parabike's. Regrettably, I did not measure the bikes and have not been able to source geometry charts. But the good news is that the Penny will work well for smaller riders and those with shorter torsos. 

Putting the fit issue aside, the ride quality and handling of the Penny felt very similar to that of the Parabike, which I liked very much: maneuverable, extremely cushy over bumps, mountain-bikey but with a relaxed cruiserish element to it. These are entirely different bikes from Pashley's Roadster and Princess line. Personally, I prefer the way the Penny and Parabike ride to the classic Princess. Of course the looks are a matter of taste. 

One advantage of the Penny over the Parabike, is that - to my eye at least - its aesthetics do not conflict with a standard rear rack. So turning it into a practical city bike would be fairly simple. Unfortunately, dynamo lighting is not included. Also not included are the waterbottle cage mounts that I noticed on the Parabike. Step-through frame designs often do not lend themselves to this, and it's too bad. Finally, I am not sure why the Penny was set up with straight handlebars rather than swept-back bars - I suspect that much of this bike's target market would find the the latter more comfortable. 

In their description of the Penny, Pashley suggests that this bike is meant to move effortlessly between town and country. I can see that. Provided that it's a fairly flat area, this bike could feel equally enjoyable to ride through meadows and forests, on cobblestones and on busy city streets, for shorter and longer distances. It is a nice combination of comfortable, maneuverable, and intuitive to handle. The durable powdercoat and the enclosed brakes and gears allow outdoor storage and make this bike a good choice for winter and inclement weather conditions. If the unique look of the Penny appeals to you, the bike is worth taking seriously.

The Pashley Penny is available in "willow green" (shown here) or "dusk blue" - a dusty indigo. Current retail price is $1,195. Both the Parabike and Penny are available for test rides at Harris Cyclery in West Newton, MA. Many thanks to them for setting up these demo bikes.

No Paratrooper Training Required

When I saw the Pashley Parabike and Penny at Interbike last year, I was not sure what to make of them. "What are they for and how do they ride?" were my questions. This summer Pashley sent a pair to Harris Cyclery for me to try, and I still struggle to find the words to describe them. One thing is certain: These bikes have little in common with the Roadster and Princess models the brand is known for. I will write about each separately (Penny review now posted here).

In a sense the Pashley Parabike is a replica of the WWII-era BSA Parabike, also known as the Airborne. But unlike Pashley's remake, the original Parabike was a folder. Here is one I was lucky enough to see in person - hinged and cleverly constructed, albeit monstrously heavy. Paratroopers would jump out of planes with the bikes strapped to their backs, then re-assemble them once on the ground and ride away. They must have been very strong, those fellows.

I'll be honest here: The fact that Pashley copied the look and even the military colour scheme of the Airborne but not the folding functionality, biased me against the new Parabike at the start. I suspected it was mostly decorative and intended for military paraphernalia enthusiasts. But as the bike went into distribution I started hearing positive things about it, and so I tried to keep an open mind.  

If I let go of my "but it doesn't fold like the original!" grudge, I have to admit the construction is interesting. Pashley calls this a "duplex-tube" frame. In place of the top tube and down tube are sets of twin stays, like on a mixte. The frame construction, from what I can tell, is very similar if not identical, to the Tube Rider and the (no longer produced?) Paramount models, save for the colour scheme.

The upper and lower sets of stays curve away from each other, giving the frame a balloon-like appearance. The whole thing is brazed cro-moly steel. 

Lugged fork crown.

There are little bridges, connectors and braze-ons everywhere, arranged in a way that manages to not make the frame look busy.

The construction around the bottom bracket is interesting and complicated.

I am guessing the purpose is to provide extra support for the lower set of stays.

The seatpost is quick release. The aged Brooks B67 is the stock saddle. There are fenders and braze-ons for a rear rack, though no rack is included.

Chainguard.

Braze-ons for one water bottle cage.

Mildly swept-back handlebars with short, raised stem.

Faux cork grips, hub brakes, Sturmey-Archer 5-speed hub. I don't have a good close-up picture of this, but the frame has horizontal dropouts with a derailleur hanger.  

The Parabike is one size only, described as 19". The wheels are 26" with 1.75" Schwalbe Marathon tires. Basic Stronglight crankset with platform pedals. No toe overlap with my Eur 38 sized shoes.

I test rode the Parabike over the course of several miles, and mechanic Jim (pictured here) rode it briefly as well. We agreed it is a cool bike, and we agreed that it's hard to describe. But let me try. Two main impressions stuck with me. One is the excellent ride quality over bumps - by far cushier than the Pashley Princess I used to own. Not that the Princess was harsh; it just wasn't impressively cushy compared to, say, Dutch bikes. The Parabike, on the other hand, felt like butter over potholes. While its tires are a bit wider, I don't think that is enough to account for the different feel. It could it be the springiness of the "duplex tubes." The other impression I was left with was that of maneuverability and zippiness. The handling is all together un-roadsterlike, with greater agility and what I think is a lower center of gravity. The bottom bracket is lower, the rider does not sit up as high, and overall the bike comes across as being rather compact. Of the bicycles I've tried so far, the Parabike rides most similarly to the city bikes with mountain bike heritage group. However, it is a more compact and lighter-weight bike.

Stepping over the Parabike in a skirt wasn't elegant, but doable. With true diamond frames I tend to be clumsy in this regard, but the curve here makes it a bit easier to lean and step over without having to swing my leg over the back. The fit of the 19" frame felt pretty much ideal for me, though on my own bike I would lower the handlebars.

The main problem I see with the Pashley Parabike is its identity. I like how the bike rides, but I am still not sure what it is for. I think the handling and durability (hub brakes and gears, tough powdercoat) would make it a great transportation bike - including in winter climates and seaside locations. But for a transportation bike, it is missing the rather crucial lights and racks. Although eyelets for a rear rack are provided, it will be difficult to find a suitable model for a bike so unique-looking - a topic I've covered before. I wonder whether Pashley has plans to design a rack specifically for the Parabike, or at least to source one that looks appropriate. An option with dynamo lighting would also be welcome. Of course if the bike is intended mainly for recreation, these practical considerations are less important. But then the hub brakes and fenders and chainguard seem overkill to me - I'd be tempted to strip it down, lighten it up, and ride it on trails.

Finally, to return to the Parabike's historical reference: Admittedly, I have not actually ridden an original BSA Airborne Parabike. But there is nothing about Pashley's remake that reminds me of a vintage bike other than the look. The ride quality feels distinctly modern - 90s mountain-bikey, in a good sort of way. It is a neat bike that is fun to ride, and the visual/historical aspect adds a layer to it that I don't quite know what to do with or where to fit into this write-up. It's as if the two things are entirely separate.

Pashley bikes are hand-built in Stratford-upon-Avon, England. The Parabike is available in "ash green" (shown here) or "dusk blue" - a dusty indigo. Current price is $1,195. Both the Parabike and Penny demo bikes are available for test rides at Harris Cyclery in West Newton, MA. A separate write-up about the Penny is forthcoming.

Weight Distribution Mysteries

One thing that continues to mystify me about frame design, is how different bicycles react to weight distribution. Over the years, I've really found this aspect of a bicycle's handling to be a wildcard. My Rivendell Sam Hillborne is built like a typical mid-trail touring bike, which, it is said, makes it optimal for carrying heavy loads in the rear but only moderate loads in the front. However, I prefer to ride this bike with an enormous handlebar bag, and it does very well with it. It also handles well with a saddlebag and panniers, but interestingly the handlebar bag - with the same amount of weight in it - does not appear to affect speed at all, whereas the saddlebag does a bit. If I am going on a fast ride, I remove the saddlebag but do not bother removing the handlebar bag. All of this is just fine with me, because I find it far more convenient to keep my stuff in the front for easy access. But it goes against my understanding of the way a bicycle like this is supposed to react to weight. 

Then there is the Moser racing bike, which reacts badly to any weight I put on it at either end. The front gets twitchy with even a small bag attached. And with any saddlebag larger than a tiny wedge the bike feels distinctly rear-heavy. A few times I've affixed a mid-sized saddlebag so that I could carry my camera, and it felt like trudging through mud compared to the speed this bike is normally capable of. On the other hand, a full water bottle on the downtube (the bottle weighing about the same as my camera) has no effect, and neither does my own weight gain when I stuff my jersey pockets with all the things I would have otherwise kept in a bag.

Riding bikes like this has made me understand why some cyclists chose to ride with backpacks instead of baskets or panniers - some bicycles simply do not handle well with weight on either end, but do fine when the weight is part of the rider. This is one reason the argument "If you want to lighten your bike, lose some weight" does not make sense to me. You cannot simply take the combined weight of a bicycle, its accessories and its rider, and assume the handling and speed will be the same as long as the total remains the same.

My first city bicycle - a Pashley Princess - came with a huge front basket, but it did not handle well for me when I put things in the basket. Eventually I removed it and attached a set of rear folding panniers instead. With that configuration the bike handled much better, and faster. When I carried weight in the rear, I could detect no difference in speed, even with a full load of groceries.

On the other hand, the Bella Ciao city bike I now ride - while faster than the Pashley overall - is more sensitive to weight in the back. The handling doesn't change, but I can feel a difference in speed depending on how heavy the load I am carrying is. 

With pretty much every bicycle I've ridden over an extended period of time so far, I've noticed some sort of relationship between weight distribution and handling, and it is not always a logical one - or at least not obviously so. I am sure there are lots of factors contributing to these effects, and these factors are just too nuanced to be obviously discernible. It's interesting to figure this stuff out in the process of getting to know a bike. 

Yeah Baby! Transportational Elegance Reigns at Interbike 2011

As I was setting off for Las Vegas, those who'd been to Interbike before warned me that 90% of what I'd see there would be completely irrelevant: that the road, mountain bike and BMX industries would rule the floor, with city bikes and classic bicycles making up a tiny fraction of the offerings. So what surprised me the most about my first Interbike, was that this was far from the case. The upright, step-through city bike was downright ubiquitous: From exclusive European makers such as Cicli Montante (above) to mainstream giants such as Trek (see my post about their "Dutch bike" here), it seemed that anyone who is anyone had one on offer.

Frames of Mind: Why Did We Not Cycle?

There has been a great deal of talk about the recent English study that urges policy makers to ignore the views of experienced cyclists and bicycle activists when designing infrastructure, and to focus instead on the views of those who don't cycle. The idea is that answering the question "Why don't they?" will provide greater insight into what is needed for the majority of the population to find bicycling appealing.

I tend to agree with this premise. As cyclists in a non-cycling culture become more experienced, it is only natural that they undergo a shift in perspective. Situations that used to feel awkward, difficult or dangerous to them (and still do to the majority of the population!) no longer feel that way; they can no longer place themselves in their former frames of mind. By no means immune to this effect, I too no longer see cycling in the same light as I did a mere two and a half years ago. But I've been trying to think back and remember my attitudes from the time when I didn't ride. Why didn't I?

Probably the major reason was a failure of imagination on my part:  I did not understand how bicyclists could safely share space with other road users. Seriously, I could not imagine it. The difference in speed was drastic. It was confusing that sometimes there were bike lanes and sometimes there weren't. What about merging? What about intersections? It all seemed downright absurd. I tried to watch other cyclists on the roads, but that was not reassuring in the least. They weaved around cars. They sometimes obeyed traffic laws and other times did not. All I saw was chaos. And I witnessed many close calls between cyclists and motorists, which only intensified my skepticism that cycling was in any way safe or normal. It was not until I discovered the world of friendly bicycle blogs - some of which practically spelled out in encouraging baby talk how to ride a bike on the street - that it began to (slowly) make sense. And if you're thinking that I must just be exceptionally dumb, be assured that most non-cyclists I speak to express the very same lack of comprehension I recall in myself. "You ride your bike right on the street? But how?..." I explain it step by step, but they are skeptical. The very notion of bicycles sharing the road with cars is too much to swallow for the general population, and I think many of us have lost touch with that.

The other aspect of my former mindset is somewhat difficult to admit, but here it goes: I found the vast majority of cyclists I came in contact with unappealing. And no, I don't mean just the ones in lycra. If anything, it was obvious that those were of the racing variety and simply had nothing to do with me. What I mean is that I found the attitudes of the self-identified "transportation cyclists" I happened to meet over the years unappealing. Many of the ones I came into contact with struck me as cantankerous, self-righeous, dogmatic and overall tedious. Maybe it was just bad luck that I happened to meet those particular people. But an impression formed in my mind of what being a "cyclist" in the USA entailed, and it was a negative impression. As a college undergrad, I remember this student who would always arrive late to my favourite seminar, interrupting the professor mid-sentence with the banging of the door and chairs. She would remove her bicycle helmet revealing sweaty hair, then plop it down loudly on the table. "Had to lock up my bike!" she'd announce triumphantly, as if this not only excused the lateness but also made her superior to those who did not share this tremendous responsibility. She would then sit down, produce a jar of peanut butter from her backpack and proceed to eat out of it with a spoon for the duration of the seminar - waving said spoon around when participating in group discussion. That image more or less sums up how I perceived "cyclists" until several years ago.

But my alienation from cycling would not have been complete without the occasional visits to bike stores - which, until two or three years ago, had nothing to offer but roadbikes and mountain bikes. I would walk in, optimistic, and walk out convinced that a bicycle I felt comfortable enough to ride did not exist on the market. It is amazing to think that in a relatively short amount of time, the selection of bicycles has changed so dramatically - but still, only in some parts of the country, and only in select bicycle shops. It is also amazing to think how much influence the bicycle industry's output has on the types of cycling people believe are accessible to them. Before the category of "city bike" was finally created for the North American market, the concept did not exist here as far as salespeople in bicycle shops were concerned. And, consequently, would-be consumers such as myself did not think it existed either.

For those of us who began riding bikes for transportation in adulthood and have since changed our views of what that entails, I think it's beneficial to try and remember our former attitudes. What were our reasons for not cycling before? What were our concerns, fears, misconceptions? What was difficult to understand and what was easy? And how did we feel about other cyclists? Do you remember this about yourself? And finally, do you agree with the idea that the feedback of timid would-be cyclists is more informative for infrastructure decisions than that of experienced cyclists and advocates?

The Pashley Roadster Sovereign: Review After Two New England Winters

If you are a regular reader, you probably know that the Co-Habitant owns a Pashley Roadster Sovereign. We bought a pair of Pashleys when I first started this blog, and while I've since sold my Princess, he has kept his Roadster. He loves this bicycle. It is his main transportation bike, taking him to and from work every day for nearly two years now - in sunshine, rain and snow. This review is based on both his and my impressions of the bike.

Pashley bicycles have been made in Stratford-upon-Avon, England since 1926. The Roadster is a traditional lugged steel English roadster frame with relaxed geometry and 28" wheels. It is powdercoated black and fitted with a 5-speed Sturmey Archer hub, dynamo lighting, and drum brakes. See here for the full specs and here for the complete set of images. This bicycle was purchased in May 2009 from Harris Cyclery in West Newon, MA (not a sponsor at the time).

One interesting thing to note about this bike is the sizing. The Co-Habitant is 6' tall and his preferred frame size is normally 60-64cm, depending on geometry. However, his Pashley's frame is only 22.5" (57cm), and yet it is his size. That is because the Pashley Roadster has an unusually high bottom bracket (330mm), which makes the standover considerably higher than it would be on a typical bike. For comparison, the bottom bracket height on his vintage Raleigh DL-1 Roadster is 310mm, which in itself is considered high. This explains why the Raleigh and Pashley are both his size, despite the former being a 24" frame and the latter a 22.5" frame. When in doubt, go down a size with the Pashley Roadster.

The Pashley Roadster Sovereign is a bicycle fully equipped for commuting: generous fenders, full chaincase, vinyl dress guards, large rear rack, drop-down kickstand and an integrated wheel lock. The Co-Habitant finds the dressguards and chaincase convenient, because they enable him to wear pretty much anything he wants on the bike - including dressy clothing and overcoats. He does not like tucking his trousers into socks or wearing ankle straps when riding to work, so these features are important to him. The chaincase has kept his chain immaculately clean through two winters and does not stand in the way of rear wheel removal. For those who dislike the drop-down kickstand, the frame does come with a kickstand plate, so it's possible to install an alternative. Initially, we installed a Pletcher double-legged kickstand and used it instead of the drop-down, until it broke, so now it's back to the original.

Though the headlight on the Roadster is dynamo-powered, the tail light is battery-operated. The 2.4W dynamo hub makes it difficult to modify this lighting set-up, and we are really not sure why Pashley chose to do this instead of using a 3W hub and bulb. We are considering eventually replacing the lighting on his bike with a front and rear LED system with standlights. Trouble is, there aren't any classic LED headlights in a style that would suit the Pashley.

Supplementary Cateye battery lights attached for situations when visibility is especially poor. The bolts on the Pashley's front axel make it easy to mount these.

The rear rack is spacious, but made of such thick tubing that most pannier mounting systems will not fit it. The Ortlieb QL2 and the R&K Klick-fix systems sort of fit, but just barely.

Tires are Schwalbe Marathon Plus. They are not my favourite tires, but the puncture protection is unbeatable.

The saddle is the super-sprung Brooks B33 - especially suitable for the larger gentlemen on upright bikes.

And of course, the shiny "ding dong" bell. That's us, reflected in it.

Though we are both lovers of customisations, there wasn't much that the Co-Habitant modified on this bicycle. All the components have remained stock thus far. As far as positioning, he lowered the handlebars to make them level with the saddle and angled them down a bit, for a more aggressive position. He also shoved the saddle forward by means of reversing the seat clamp. He added a Brooks Glenbrook saddlebag and Millbrook handlebar bag, which are permanently affixed to the bike. The saddlebag contains his lock, bungee cords and saddle cover in the side pockets, with the main compartment kept empty for quick grocery trips and other errands.

The handlebar bag contains his rain gear, gloves, bad-weather cycling glasses, flashlight, and epic toolkit. The toolkit he carries only on longer trips.

The original plastic handlebar grips were replaced with the Brooks leather washer grips. Front and rear drum brakes are hand-operated, and he has them routed right-front. And just in case you haven't noticed, the handlebar set-up includes a cycling computer and twined water bottles in their DIY handlebar mounts. The computer is fairly unobtrusive, blending in with the black part of the riser stem.

And a close-up of he bottle cage mounts. The set-up with the twin bottles sticking out like miniature cannons over the handlebars is over-the-top eccentric for me - but over time I've grown used to seeing them on his bike and even find them endearing. He has also carried paper cups full of coffee in those bottle cages - successfully.

We considered washing the bicycle before taking pictures for the review, but ultimately decided against it. These pictures realistically portray what the bike looks like after a winter of commuting - and a harsh winter at that. The only time this frame has ever been wiped down was after the previous winter. With everything either fully enclosed or stainless, the Pashley Roadster is as low-maintenance as they get. The powdercoating has held up excellently, with just a few scuffs here and there. Over the time he's owned this bicycle, the Co-Habitant has broken two spokes on the rear wheel (one per year) and had them replaced. The wheels also had to be re-trued a couple of times, no doubt due to the horrible pothole-ridden roads on which he commutes. Otherwise, significant adjustments have not been necessary.

As far as ride quality and subjective feedback go, there is a distinct feeling of the bicycle being stable, reliable and enormous.

It can comfortably travel at high speeds, with the cyclist feeling relaxed, perched high above city traffic. And this isn't merely an illusion - with the high bottom bracket and the upright sitting position, the height at which the rider is placed really is out of the ordinary.

The bicycle handles well on the road and off, in dry and wet conditions. In the winter, it has proven to be a trusty companion.

Even during blizzards, the Co-Habitant continued to commute on this bicycle, and felt comfortable doing it.

When describing the Pashley Roadster's ride quality, it is worth noting that it is not the male equivalent of the Princess model: The geometry and handling of the two bikes are different. Performace-wise, the Roadster accelerates faster and climbs hills easier than the Princess, which can be problematic for those who buy the two bikes as a "his and hers" pair. Though this discrepancy between the men's and women's models is unfortunate, the Roadster's performance in itself is terrific.

As for my own impressions of the Co-Habitant's Pashley, I've come to see the bike as his permanent companion or even an extension of his personality. He loves the bike, never complains about it, and uses it daily for transportation, which is fantastic. But sometimes I do wonder whether the bike is overbuilt for his purposes: To me it seems excessively heavy, and I don't get the point of having that monstrous rear rack if it is seldom used for anything other than saddlebag support. Also, it takes great effort to convince him to leave the bike locked up in the city, which is frustrating. At work he has secure locking facilities, but when we go out he worries about the bike too much - which in my view somewhat undermines its usefulness. However, the most important thing is that he enjoys the bike and rides it, which I feel has been accomplished here pretty well.

Though the Pashley Roadster Sovereign is not inexpensive by any means, it is a good value once you consider what is included and add it all up: a traditional lugged frame made in England and a fully integrated "commuting package" consisting of fenders, drum brakes, full chaincase, dressguards, puncture-proof tires, lighting, and a high quality sprung leather saddle. After close to two years of daily use, including two New England winters, the bicycle looks hardly worse for wear - a testament to its durability. As with everything, your impressions may differ, but the Co-Habitant is a happy owner. He is not looking for another transportation bicycle for the foreseeable future.