An Old Overlooked Gem From Campagnolo

As a self-described packrat, I have a tendency to keep a lot of things I don't really need on the pretense that they may come in handy someday, or out of the fear that as soon as I get rid of something I'll discover a need for it. Now and then, I'll go through boxes looking for something, and I'll find something else that I forgot I even had. Something like that happened the other day when I uncovered a late-80s Campagnolo Athena derailleur.

After decades of dominating the high-end bicycle component market, Campagnolo in the mid to late '80s was gasping to keep up with the rapid changes that were happening at the time. It must have been a major challenge, considering that for the previous several decades, the company made new product introductions only infrequently, and component models would run for years with only the most minor of changes. Take for example the Nuovo Record derailleur, which was made virtually unchanged from 1967 through the mid '80s, and had a basic design that dated back to 1950.

When Shimano released their indexing Dura-Ace 7400 SIS, it seemed nobody was quite prepared for the fallout. SunTour was struggling to get their own indexing system together. Many European component makers started slipping into obscurity. Campagnolo managed to hang on mainly due to the loyalty of older and more tradition-oriented road cyclists, but despite that loyalty the company was still faced with making some major changes to their product line to bring them into the new modern shifting era.

Campagnolo's first attempt at an indexing system, Synchro, was admirable in that they tried to make indexing work with their existing derailleurs. Unfortunately it didn't actually work that well. As already mentioned, their traditional parallelogram derailleur design essentially dated back to 1950 with only minor changes, and adding a shift lever with built-in "clicks" wasn't enough to make them index reliably. Between 1985 and 1990, the company introduced a number of new component groups, and several completely new derailleur designs - each one different from the next. There was the Croce d'Aune with its unique tie-rod activation, the Chorus with its dropped and slanted 2-position parallelogram, and by the end of the decade there were a couple of mountain bike groups with derailleurs that appeared to be modeled after Shimano Deore, but with Campagnolo aesthetics. In the middle of all that there was the Athena which was introduced in late 1988 and positioned below Chorus. Of the new road derailleur designs, the Athena was probably the derailleur that looked the most traditional -- the most "Campy-like." There was no dropped parallelogram to ape SunTour or Shimano designs. At first glance, some less-savvy observers might have mistaken it for a Campagnolo C-Record, with its smooth polished surfaces, and aero-looking upper derailleur cage. Closer examination would show it to be very different.

No "dropped parallelogram" here. Most modern era derailleurs follow the SunTour and Shimano designs, with the parallelogram dropped below the upper pivot, orienting it more horizontally, and slanted at an angle so it moves downward as it moves inward - tracking the profile of the rear cogs more closely across the range. It isn't obvious from this image, but even though that parallelogram hangs down directly in line with the upper pivot, in traditional Campagnolo style, it is actually canted at an angle so its movement still tracks the cogs more like other modern designs.

The Athena is a smooth and quick-shifting derailleur, and more "modern" in function than it appears. If it didn't index-shift as well as Shimano (and in 1988, nothing indexed as well as Shimano), it probably had more to do with the lack of system integration than with the trend-defying derailleur design itself. After Shimano introduced their SIS, it seemed that companies that first set about trying to imitate it mistakenly believed the key to indexing was mostly in the clicking levers, and the rest of the drivetrain could get by with some minor tweaks. In reality, it was more involved than that. The freewheel cogs had to be precisely spaced to match the indents in the levers, the tooth profiles on each cog had to be optimized to make the shift happen exactly as intended, the chain links needed to be profiled to properly mesh with those cog teeth at the proper moment, and the cables and even the cable housing had to be designed specially to eliminate (or at least minimize) cable stretch or housing compression. It took some time for SunTour to work all that out, and even longer for Campagnolo to do it.

The Athena has another difference that separates it from most other modern designs: no spring in the upper pivot. While a sprung upper pivot can help with indexing, it may not be entirely necessary. But the upper bolt did have an unusual feature to help the derailleur handle different gear ranges:

Instead of a screw to adjust the derailleur angle (typically called the "B-screw" or "B-tension") the Athena used this toothed stop ring that fit around the upper pivot. It had 5 possible positions that were supposed to allow better angle for different sprocket sizes. Notice the guide which shows "Biggest Sprockets" ranging from 20 to 30 teeth. Unfortunately, in my experience, the toothed ring is the Achilles Heel of the Athena. I had one shear off, which let the derailleur swing forward, crashing into the cogs and ending my ride. The piece is replaceable, but not exactly easy to find. And I've seen other used examples of the derailleur out there that were damaged in the same way.

I've used the Athena derailleur with Campagnolo's last version of indexing downtube shift levers, that were made for 7 or 8 speed systems, and it worked well. Just for grins, I tried installing it on a bike with a modern 10-speed cassette and Campy's Ergo shifters. It actually worked alright, though it had some trouble getting to the innermost and outermost cogs -- not a surprise, considering it was never designed to shift across 10 cogs. Nevertheless, I've seen it mentioned on some online forums that people have gotten it to work, so it might just be a matter of spending a little more time fiddling with the adjustments. However, one thing I noticed that might have been contributing to the issue was that it took a little more pressure on the shift levers to move the derailleur -- as if the springs in the derailleur were stronger or stiffer than current models. Newer Campy designs have tried to lighten the shifting "feel" or action to better emulate the light touch of Shimano shifters, and lighter springs are probably part of it. So there's that.

Where the Athena really shines, though, is with friction shifting -- particularly with a set of smooth-acting retrofriction levers, like the Simplex, or Campagnolo's C-Record. With the retrofriction levers, the derailleur has nice feel, and offers quick, smooth shifting.

The Athena design was also released as a lower-end derailleur called the Xenon, with a much more pedestrian painted finish.

I used the Athena for several years on a bike I no longer have -- a late '80s Vitus aluminum -- but it's been sitting unused in a box for a while now. I have no plans to get rid of it though -- who knows when the right bike might come along for it?

Pokémon DON'T

I was with my kids last week in a popular local park. We had gotten some ice cream and walked to the park to enjoy it. It was a gorgeous day and there were lots of other people in the park. We sat in the shade and ate our ice cream, and afterwards my girls chased each other around, and tried to do handstands and cartwheels. While I watched them playing, I noticed that, apart from two boys kicking a soccer ball back and forth, every other person in the park was walking around with their eyes locked on their phones. Kids, teens, and even adults. The majority of them were playing Pokémon GO.

Just in case there's anyone reading who doesn't know about it, let me briefly explain that Pokémon GO is a smart-phone based game that leads people through real-world surroundings in search of animated creatures that they can "catch." People will walk around following the trail on their phones trying to find the creatures -- wherever the trail might happen to lead. And of course, because their eyes are glued to their phones, they aren't typically looking where they're actually going. This kind of carelessness can be obviously hazardous to the person playing the game on foot (reportedly, a number of game-playing idiots have walked into traffic). When people try to play the game while driving, the result can be deadly, and not just for the player. The game's creators recommend that people use common sense when playing the game - but if there's any indisputable truth that I've learned over the years, it's that "common sense" is actually very uncommon. And it seems to me that the "smarter" phones get, the dumber people get.

Within a week after the game's release last month, the inevitable happened. In Auburn New York, some idiot, trying to track down Pokémon critters while driving, slammed his car into a tree. Judging from the damage to the car, I'd say he was fortunate to escape with only minor injuries. A couple of days later in Baltimore, another Pokémon-hunting driver crashed into a stopped police car. Emerging from his car, still holding his cell phone, the driver said, "That's what I get for playing this dumb game." Again, luckily, nobody was hurt, but the police officer, who was standing outside his patrol car at the moment of impact, could easily have been killed. It was just pure luck the phone-addled driver missed him.

A couple of days later in Melbourne, Australia, a teenager drove through a schoolyard and crashed into a school building while playing the game. That same week, a teen in Napa, CA drove into a power pole. Miraculously, none of these incidents has resulted in anything more than property damage and some minor injuries. But the very first thing I think of with these incidents, along with all the texting and other phone use while driving, is what about cyclists and pedestrians? People are already being killed by drivers texting or talking on the phone. It's only a matter of time before one of these jackasses kills one of us while hunting animated creatures. And will the stories about it still be as glib as they are now?

After the first crash involving a Pokémon-chasing driver happened, Auburn Police Chief Shawn Butler advised people to use common sense (there it is again) when playing the game, and said "personal safety should be paramount above everything else." I say screw that. It's bad enough these fools put themselves at risk playing a ridiculous phone game while driving -- maybe the risk they pose to the rest of us should be "paramount above everything else."

I know there are always concerns about the "nanny state" and reactions against regulating "personal behavior," but the problem of distracted driving just keeps getting worse, as the distractions get more tempting, and people keep demonstrating that they are unable or unwilling to think about anyone but themselves, it's pretty obvious that some kinds of "personal behavior" have consequences for the rest of us. And yet, many states still have no distracted driving laws, and for many of those that do, the laws are basically unenforceable. In my state of Ohio, for example, an adult can drive past a police officer with a cell phone right in front of their face, and cannot be pulled over. Only if they can be observed breaking some other law can anything be done, and all that means is that they get an extra fine added to their bill.

On a bike, I have a pretty clear view into the cars that I encounter, and I'd estimate that probably ⅓ of the drivers I see at any given time have a phone in their hand. They clearly aren't too worried about the no-texting law. It should be obvious to people that they are putting others at risk - but they apparently don't care. Maybe its time that something finally gets done.

Retro Pashley 90th Anniversary Models

Established in 1926, Pashley is said to be England's longest-running bicycle company. The brand is mainly known for some very retro style bikes, like upright roadsters and delivery bikes - some that come complete with classic wicker baskets. For the company's 90th anniversary, they're releasing two special edition bikes. The Speed 3 SE path racer, and the Roadfinder SE.

Of the two special edition bikes, the Speed 3 SE is the one that really harkens back to the company's founding in the 1920s.

With its long wheelbase, slack angles, long raked fork, and large volume tires, the Speed 3 should have a super cushy ride. Probably not a nimble-handling bike, but a cool-looking cruiser.

The Speed 3 SE is made from Reynolds 531 tubing, and equipped with a Brooks B17 saddle, and dropped North Road style bars. It has Sturmey-Archer 3 speed gearing, as well as S-A hub brakes.

The frame lugs and the little number plate have art-deco details that recall the 1920s. I've seen where other bike blogs have derided the traditional quill stem as a piece of equipment that "died for good reason," and that the Pashley is "stuck with it" in the name of nostalgia. Jeesh. Nothing wrong with a quill stem, and does anybody think a bike like this would look in any way "right" with a threadless stem?

The special edition bikes also come with a classy stainless steel head badge.

I've seen prices for the Speed 3 SE listed at just under £1000 (around $1300).

The Roadfinder SE model is more of a modern-meets-retro road bike. The bike combines a classic-looking lugged steel frame built with Reynolds 725 heat treated tubing, and a thoroughly modern Shimano Ultegra drivetrain.

Notice that the Roadfinder comes with low spoke count Ultegra wheels (16 front/20 rear) which can make a retrogrouch cringe. Like the Speed 3, it does have a Brooks saddle, but in this case it's a Cambium C-13 racing saddle with carbon fiber rails. I can swallow hard and get behind those wheels as a nod to modern equipment choices, but one thing that absolutely turns me off visually is the bloated looking Ultegra crank, which looks horrid against those slim steel tubes. I've been hating these recent-generation Shimano 4-bolt cranks for a couple of years now, and pairing them with a traditional steel frame is an unfortunate choice.

Pashley says they still build their bikes in England -- not imported from Asia. The lugs are simple, traditional, and nice. The Roadfinder SE, like the Speed 3 SE, has the special edition stainless steel head badge.

Pashley claims that the Roadfinder takes 25 mm tires with fenders, or 28 mm without. That's OK, but a little more tire room wouldn't have hurt anybody, would it? Especially considering that nobody is going to buy the Pashley for racing, and a little more comfort and versatility would probably be appreciated by the bike's target market.

I should point out that there is a "regular" edition of the Roadfinder that has some component choices that might be a little more appealing to those whose tastes run a bit more traditional. Or there is a similar model called the Pathfinder that is designed more for touring and has room for larger tires (equipped with disc brakes).

I've seen prices listed for the Roadfinder SE at £2490 (around $3300). That's probably a good bit more expensive than a generic-looking made-in-China bike, but then, this isn't a generic made-in-China bike. For comparison sake, I've seen the Roadfinder regular edition listed at just under £2000 (around $2600).

Check out the Pashley website to check out more of their retro lineup.

What Keeps A Bike Upright?

I've been seeing and hearing a lot lately about a recent article from Nature: The Bicycle Problem That Nearly Broke Mathematics.

The article mainly focuses on Jim Papadopoulos, an engineer who has spent much of his life studying the dynamics of bicycles in motion. I think the title might be overstating things a little when it suggests that the questions "nearly broke mathematics," though it is something interesting to read.

"Papadopoulos, who is 62, has spent much of his life fascinated by bikes, often to the exclusion of everything else. . . He could never ride a bike without pondering the mathematical mysteries that it contained. Chief among them: What unseen forces allow a rider to balance while pedaling? Why must one initially steer right in order to lean and turn left? And how does a bike stabilize itself when propelled without a rider?"

Papadopoulos, with friend and colleague Andy Ruina, studied these questions of bike balance and stability as part of the Cornell Bicycle Research Project -- an endeavor they hoped would attract research interest (and funding) from the bicycle industry, though according to the Nature article, didn't really pan out. The main interest came from makers like (Alex) Moulton and Dahon -- whose small-wheeled bicycles presented different handling issues than most regular bikes. With the apparent lack of interest from the industry, the Cornell Bicycle Research Project ended at the end of the 1980s. After the project ended, Papadopoulos wrote some contributions to the 3rd Edition of D.G. Wilson's Bicycling Science.

The riderless bike, in action. There is an annotated diagram
in the Nature article.

In 2002, Ruina teamed up with a scientist from the Netherlands, Arend Schwab, to set up a new state-of-the-art laboratory to pick up where the Cornell Bicycle Research Project left off. Papadopoulos joined the project the following year. The team worked out a full set of mathematical equations to take into account all kinds of bicycle design variables for stability. Gyroscopic effect, fork rake and trail, the caster effect, and weight distribution -- all are part of the picture. With the equations worked out, the team created models to put them to the test. One of these test models was a "riderless bicycle," built with small wheels, and counter-rotating wheels to cancel out the gyroscopic effect, a negative trail figure, and weighs that could be re-distributed in different configurations. Once set in motion, the bike would self-correct its balance and stay upright until it came to a virtual standstill. Understand that, at least according to some earlier theories on bicycle movement, the negative trail and lack of gyroscopic effect should have caused the bike to topple over almost immediately. The riderless bike essentially proves that weight distribution plays a role as well.

The research this team is doing builds on research that's been done for decades, but is apparently more maths-based than trial-and-error as a lot of earlier research had been. As the article points out, for much of the bicycle's history, gyroscopic effect was believed to be the main factor in keeping a bicycle balanced. Then in 1970, David Jones put that to the test with a series of "unrideable bicycles" -- one of which had counter-rotating wheels that should have cancelled out the gyroscopic effect. What he found was that the bike could still be ridden without much difficulty. By the way, there seems to be a discrepancy between the Nature article, and the account of Jones's work as it is described in the book Bicycling Science (2nd edition -- I don't have a copy of the 3rd). The Nature article says Jones had little difficulty riding the bike hands-free. Bicycling Science says it was very difficult to ride hands-free without the gyroscopic effect. In any case, Jones built more "unrideable bicycles" to test what we know about rake and trail -- which contributes to the "caster effect" where wheels turn in the direction of movement. Jones found that a bike with an extremely large trail figure was so stable that it was awkward to ride, and the bike he built with an extremely negative trail figure was impossible to ride no-hands. The "unrideable bikes" were all, however, rideable.

The work done by Papadopoulos and Ruina today seems to indicate that keeping a bicycle upright is a combination of many factors. Gyroscopic effect, caster effect, and weight distribution are all important. However, as the article seems to indicate, the hope was again that the industry would take notice and that their research might lead to new bicycle designs, and there may be some disappointment owing to the fact that it isn't happening.

"Papadopoulos can't help but feel deflated. 'It did not change everything in the way that we imagined,' he says. This year's bike frames look much like last year's. 'Everyone is still in the box,' he says."

One question many might be asking is what is the practical use here? Bicycles work quite well as they are. There is no need for a riderless bike. Understanding the mathematical equations on bike balance doesn't change the fact that riding a bike is a "second-nature" skill that we all learn and never forget. And maybe that's why basic bike designs are unlikely to change much regardless of what the research finds.

However, there may be some practical applications of the research, albeit with a fairly limited appeal, and therefore only a small marketing potential. Some of the projects "include a 'steer by wire' bike which separates steering movements from balancing ones, and a 'steer assist' bicycle which stabilizes itself at slow speeds." The article also mentions a "rear-steered recumbent that shows self-stability," the chief advantage of which is that it could have a shorter chain and better energy transfer." Other attempts at rear-steering proved truly unrideable. I can imagine that further research into such things could potentially lead to bikes that could be ridden by people with physical disabilities. But those kinds of applications probably aren't going to attract the main bicycle manufacturers. In the article Papadopoulos also mentioned working on the problem of speed shimmy, which has long been a bit of a mystery to bike designers and builders.

I did read a pretty sharp criticism of the studies and the Nature article by retired framebuilder Dave Moulton: When Science Finds Problems That Don't Exist. As Dave points out, in his no-nonsense way, "Bull$h!t baffles brains. And clever sounding waffle can impress. . . but analyze the piece and it says nothing of value." 

Dave points out, and I would have to agree, that understanding how a bicycle works isn't that much of a mystery, and people have understood a lot of the principals for long time without feeling compelled to work out the math. Consider that anyone who has tried to ride extremely slowly (or even track stand) has been able to recognize that gyroscopic effect is part of balance, but clearly not the only part. And that trail, or the caster effect, is again part of the picture - but not the only part - because again, one can balance at a standstill simply by shifting their weight appropriately - making constant small "corrections" - just as we can balance the end of a broom on the palm of our hand. So it would seem that a lot of the research into a self-balancing riderless bike just confirms what a lot of us may have already known intuitively.

I suppose if there is one fascinating takeaway from the article and the research, it's that the people who built the first bicycles really stumbled upon something pretty incredible, because the bicycle's basic design and layout hasn't really changed much in well over a century. The design, within a fairly narrow range of frame angles, fork rakes, and trail figures has remained pretty consistent. Angles have steepened somewhat (from the high-60s to the low-70s), but they've always been within a narrow range that works, and has worked from the beginning. Think about that when you're out for a ride.

The "Totally Different" Bike

Totally?

"There are products that help you solve problems and products that help you enjoy life. . . LFN bike does both." Who on Earth has problems that would be solved by this contraption?

The LFN "Totally Different" Bike is on Kickstarter (the LFN stands for "Looking For a Name" -- No, really. You can't make this stuff up), but for some reason isn't anywhere close to meeting its fundraising goal with only days left to go. As of this posting, they've raised only about $1,800 of a $100,000 goal.

It's billed as "The only bike that lets you climb a mountain without the mountain." I'm not sure what mountain climbing has to do with this thing, since nothing about it makes me think mountains, or climbing -- unless it involves climbing stairs. Maybe somebody wanted to combine a stairclimber machine with a bike, not that there's any logic in putting those two things together -- I mean, when I'm on my bike, I never find myself wishing I could be in a gym on a stairclimber.

The makers say "The LFN pedal system is vertical that's why it simulates movements of running, walking, cycling, mountain climbing, and climbing stairs." OK - there's where climbing enters into it - but that doesn't exactly explain Why. And I'll give them stair climbing, but how exactly this machine simulates the movement of walking or running is beyond me. Unless the creators are members of the Ministry of Silly Walks.

The LFN does away with a normal circular crank, and instead has pedals that move straight up and down in alternating strokes - kind of like a treadle drive. Treadle drive bikes are not new (they go back to the very earliest days of bicycles, even pre-dating the safety bicycle) though the specific layout of this one is a little different than most I've seen -- the pedals move in tracks, as opposed to levers, but the biomechanical function must be similar. Nevertheless, such designs are inherently less efficient than a traditional crank when it comes to propelling a bicycle -- that is, in converting leg motion into the circular motion of a wheel.

Here's something on the subject from the late Jobst Brandt, patron saint of all retrogrouches:

"The main problem is that the invention is based on constant-velocity lever pedals, instead of circular cranks on which the rotating foot presents no inertial problems and on which the leg moves in sinusoidal motion." Brandt was referring specifically to a treadle-drive bike called the Alenax, but the critique would be the same. He continued, saying that such a drive "requires the foot to reach full speed from a stop before it catches up to the load it is trying to propel, after which it must stop suddenly from full speed at the bottom of the stroke."

Our family had this exact model when I was little. Even as a
little kid, I figured out that treadle-drive sucks.

Older readers may recall riding little treadle-drive toy cars when they were young. We had one that was passed along through all the kids in my family. What I always remember noticing, even as a kid, was that pushing those pedals straight back and forth didn't work very well. One of the problems I noticed was that if you started pushing on one pedal before the other pedal reached the very end of its stroke, the forces on the two pedals ended up fighting each other and the little car would grind to a halt. I was probably no more than 4 years old when I decided that the little car had nothing on a bicycle.

Besides - what exactly is the proposed benefit of pushing the pedals up and down in a straight path as opposed to a circular one? The Kickstarter page doesn't really explain why "totally different" is "totally better." They do, however, claim that "the slider bars (that's their alternative to a crank) have 3 times more the resistance of the pressure applied when pedaling." I'm not sure what that even means. They also claim that "with the combination of gears in the gearbox, the LFN bike can ride faster than any regular bike, but we designed it to run similar in speed as a regular bike. We don't want riders to hurt themselves with a faster speed." Call me skeptical about the speed (or potential speed) claims.

As long as we're talking about not wanting to hurt riders, here's something else I'm trying like crazy to figure out about the "Totally Different Bike" -- the totally different handlebar ergonomics:

Start with a normal drop bar, but mounted something like upside-down-and-backwards. Add some MTB bar-end extensions, pointing straight up. Then mount brake levers in the most inaccessible part of the bars where a person can't even get a decent grip or leverage. I guess it's a good thing they didn't explore the full speed potential of the LFN bike.

And of course it's also an e-bike. One with a head-scratching range of 52 mph (?)

Here's another claim made on the LFN Kickstarter page: "We guaranty that our Bike is not on the market in any country, we dreamed it, designed it, developed it, patented it, and brought it to you to get your support." Spelling, grammar, and punctuation issues aside, I do sincerely believe this claim.

There's always the chance I'm being overly harsh on the LFN bike. Maybe there are hordes of people out there who would love to ride bikes if only the things felt more like a stair climber. If that's you, then better act fast before time runs out and the Totally Different Bike ends up in unfunded Kickstarter purgatory.

Cleveland, The RNC, Bicycles, Books, and More

I know that all the other bike blogs today will likely be full of news about the Big French Bicycle Race in France. Let me dispense with that right away - defending champion Chris Froome won, despite his momentary loss of higher brain function on Mt. Ventoux where, after apparently hitting his head in a rear-end collision with a stopped motorcycle, Froome got to his feet and somehow thought he was competing in the NYC Marathon. It coulda happened to anyone. That makes three wins for the likable but physically awkward Brit.

Poor guy is just a lanky bundle of jutting limbs.

. . . Even on foot.

But no, instead I'd like to talk about that other circus that just came to an end - the Republican National Circus (sorry) Convention - which was held last week in Cleveland. I'd have liked to have ignored that one too, but it was practically in my backyard. You see, Cleveland is kind of like Akron's bigger brother to the north - and the brotherly comparison is an apt one. To Akronites, Cleveland is kind of like that jerk of a big brother who held your head in the toilet when you were kids, and tells embarrassing stories about you to your girlfriend.

Sibling rivalries. If Akron is Kevin Arnold, Cleveland is big brother Wayne.

Yes, they can be jerks sometimes, but they're still family.

On the whole, the RNC defied most people's expectations. Oh sure, there were some memorable moments: Melania Trump's cribbing from Michelle Obama's term paper (or Twilight Sparkle Pony, depending on whom you believe).

"From a young age, my parents impressed on me the values that you work hard for what you want in life. And one day you will be judged not by the content of your character, but by the luxuriousness of your rainbow-sparkly mane."

. . . Or the non-endorsement heard 'round the world . . .

"When I said 'Vote your conscience,' why did y'all assume I meant 'Vote for someone else'"?

And of course there were apocalyptic visions of an America on the brink of annihilation.

"There won't be any more crime or terrorism after January 20th. So we got that goin' for us, which is nice."

Perhaps the biggest surprise of the week, at least to most of America apparently, was that Cleveland turned out NOT to be the horrific third-world cesspool they all assumed it was.

Surprise, America -- This is NOT Cleveland.

Nor do the residents look like the banjo boy from Deliverance:

However, in true @$$hole older-brother form, many Clevelanders will try to tell you this is Akron. But we loaned them LeBron James, for which they should be on their knees thanking us every godd@mned day. 

In further defiance of expectations, there were not massive, violent clashes between opposing protesters. And apart from some dimwit who tried to burn an American flag and instead managed to light himself on fire, things in Cleveland outside of the Quicken Loans Arena were relatively calm. Major credit goes to Cleveland Police for that.

Actual police quote: "You're on fire, stupid."

And this is where bicycles come back into the story.

Cleveland Police relied quite a bit on bicycle patrols to help keep things under control. The advantages of the bicycle unit, which was only recently formed specifically for the convention, are said to be that the officers have better mobility and maneuverability through crowds while being "friendlier" and "less-intimidating."

The bikes are also equipped with gear packs, radios, lights, and
fire extinguishers (handy for extinguishing potentially
self-immolating flag burning protestors).

The CPD purchased 300 bikes with a federal grant they got for hosting the convention. The bikes themselves are Safariland Patrol Bikes, made by Kona. According to Outside Online, Safariland is a supplier of police equipment, including things like shields and body armor.

The Cleveland bike patrols received training from Seattle police, which have used bike patrols for some time now. Seattle police trained the new Cleveland patrols in tactical uses and crowd control formations. In some cases the bikes can be used to move quickly around the city, and in other cases, police used the bikes as moveable barricades to separate opposing protestors, or to help move and direct crowds.

Though the new bicycle unit was formed specifically for the RNC, the unit got to make their debut at last month's massive celebration parade for the NBA Champion Cleveland Cavaliers. That parade drew approximately 1 million people (!) easily making it the largest gathering in the city's history, and one of the largest sports parades in American history. It was especially noteworthy for being incredibly peaceful and non-destructive.

And in Akron we say, "You're Welcome Cleveland."

Overall, reactions to the bike patrol were generally positive. Though I did see a quote from one protestor who called the bikes a "cold weapon of steel" and complained that police rolled over someone's foot. Can't keep everyone happy, I guess. The bike patrol is set to become a permanent part of the city's police force.

Lastly, my favorite bike related thing to come out of the convention was this guy:

"Make America Read Again."

That's Jon Harris, a Cleveland-area librarian, who loaded his bike up with books and rode to the convention to distribute them to delegates and protestors alike. Declaring himself a "book propagator" and wearing a "Make America Read Again" hat from the famous Strand Bookstore, Harris said, "I've tried to make my pitch for what we do and how vital public funding for libraries is. The Tea Party crowd can say they love libraries, but they need to put their tax dollars where their mouths are."

Here's the best part. Harris was one of my former high school students. I gotta say, I'm proud of the guy. Last note to fellow bike retrogrouches -- if you look closely at the photo, you'll see Harris' bike is a vintage Austro-Daimler. I actually remember that bike because he brought it to school once (it's got to be 12 or more years ago now) so I could help him fix the brakes. I notice he's added a Brooks leather saddle since then. Nice to see he still has it.

Designed in America: Part Four

The Rise of Shimano

When IBM was developing its groundbreaking personal computer, the IBM PC, it turned to a relative newcomer in the business, Microsoft, to provide the PC's operating system. In the negotiations with IBM, Microsoft's young entrepreneur Bill Gates made what probably seemed to be an odd but benign request. He wanted to retain the rights to the software. IBM likely figured that the real potential for profit was in the computers themselves - the hardware, not the software - so they allowed Gates' request. I can just picture the IBM executives shrugging, "Sure, kid. Why not."

As we now know, Gates saw the future, and his MS-DOS, and later Windows operating systems, would come to control roughly 90% of the world's personal computers. Since the '80s, the term "PC" has become just a generic term for any computer that runs a Microsoft operating system, regardless of whatever brand name is on the case, as opposed to, say, a "Mac." (Trivial disclosure. This blog is composed on a Mac).

The bicycle industry has its own version of Microsoft, a company that has grown to such a position of dominance that their components have become more important than the name on the bike. Obviously, the Microsoft (or the Intel, or the 800 lb. gorilla) of the bicycle industry is Shimano.

In the previous installments of the Designed in America series, I've mostly discussed the loss of American bike manufacturing, and in that specific context, the rise of Shimano may seem less important than some of the other factors already described. Shimano only makes components, and America never really had much of a bicycle component industry -- at least not for lightweight, multi-speed bikes. But Shimano's dominance came at the expense of most European component makers, and their rise hastened and facilitated the shift of the center of the world's bicycle industry to Asia.

Up through the 1950s, Japanese component makers, Maeda Industries (aka SunTour) and Shimano, were both almost entirely focused on bicycle parts for their home market. But in the '60s, they were looking to expand into lucrative Western markets. Early offerings from both companies were mostly inexpensive knockoffs of European components. French designs were a typical source. By mid decade, both companies began to innovate, and one of the most influential of the Japanese innovations was SunTour's slant-parallelogram derailleur of 1964, the design of which would become the basis of all modern derailleurs. That patent-protected design gave SunTour an early edge against Shimano, but both companies still needed some help breaking out of the Japanese market.

It just so happens that, once again, the American giant Schwinn would play a significant role in helping Shimano establish itself in the U.S., though it didn't begin there. The American company that first gave Shimano a foot in the door was Westfield Mfg. - better known as Columbia.

According to Frank Berto's The Dancing Chain, the Western Auto Supply chain, which did considerable sales in bicycles in the '50s and '60s (some older readers may recall the Western Flyer brand of bikes. Yeah - that's them), imported Raleigh 3-speeds from England for their lightweight line. In the early 60's, Raleigh cut off their relationship with Western Auto, leaving the auto parts chain scrambling to find a replacement supplier. Westfield/Columbia stepped up. They couldn't make a profit if they equipped their bikes with Sturmey-Archer 3-speed hubs (Raleigh owned S-A, and got the hubs at well-below market value), so the company looked to Japan. Westfield's president, Norman Clarke, was practically given a hero's welcome when he arrived in Japan. One of the many parts contracts he came back with was for Shimano 3-speed hubs, at roughly half the price of Sturmey-Archer.  Shimano's 3-speed hubs, named the 3.3.3, had cold-forged internals, making them light and durable.

Throughout the 60s and 70s, Schwinn's
main supplier of derailleurs had been Huret
with their Allvit model, which was
notable for its steel shroud to protect the
rather flimsy parallelogram.

A few years later, it was Schwinn's turn. In Crown and Coleman's book No Hands, it tells how Schwinn dealers were having to replace too many freewheels on their multi-speed bikes - from 5-speed Sting-Rays, to the 10-speed Varsity. The problem was due to the intrusion of dirt and sand inside the mechanism. When Schwinn asked for a sealed-mechanism freewheel, their main supplier, Maillard, either wouldn't or couldn't provide it. Shimano had been trying unsuccessfully to court Schwinn for a couple of years at that point, and Schwinn finally took an interest. They asked Shimano if they could make a sealed freewheel, and a short time later, the thing was done. It was the beginning of a very beneficial relationship -- particularly for Shimano. During the bike boom, Shimano was equipping all of Schwinn's Japanese imports, as well as supplying replacement parts for the company's domestic models. The Shimano-made derailleurs were a nice replacement for a worn-out Huret Allvit.

Clearly at Schwinn's request, Shimano modified their Lark
derailleur to include a very Allvit-like steel plate. The result
was re-branded as the Schwinn GT-100.

Shimano's head of U.S. sales in the '60s was Yoshi Shimano, son of founder Shozaburo Shimano. Yoshi Shimano developed a close relationship with Schwinn's management, particularly Al Fritz (the man usually credited with bringing America the Sting-Ray), typically serving as Fritz's translator in meetings between Schwinn, Shimano, other Japanese suppliers, and even the Japanese government.

The relationship between the two companies could be seen not only in Shimano's sealed mechanism freewheel, but also their derailleur designs, some of which were obviously requested by or influenced by the American giant. Shimano made versions of their derailleurs with the Schwinn name, and some bore Schwinn-specified modifications. The derailleur database website, Disraeli Gears, has a whole page of Schwinn derailleurs, many of which are re-badged Shimano units.

The Shimano Crane GS, which was one of the best touring derailleurs of its day (only the SunTour V-GT shifted better) was re-branded for Schwinn as the LeTour GT-300. According to Disraeli Gears, the Schwinn version may have outsold the Shimano-branded one. (photo from Disraeli Gears)

Shimano was, no doubt, given a considerable boost from Schwinn, and by the 1980s, had grown to the point that they really didn't need the American company's help anymore, and the cooperation between the two gradually faded.

During the '70s, Shimano's line of components expanded, and they quickly adopted the "gruppo" concept, inspired by Campagnolo of Italy, whose full line of components included nearly every part needed to build a complete bicycle. Still, their competitor SunTour continued to control more market share for derailleur-equipped bikes.

One of the things the company became well-known for was its constant innovation. Those who are less charitable might refer to it as a commitment to planned obsolescence. If anybody had been trying to copy Shimano's lead, they would have found themselves trying to hit a constantly moving target. According to Berto, Shimano had a company policy that 10% of their workforce must be graduate engineers, and 10% of the employees worked in research & development. Through the '70s and '80s, some of the company's notable innovations would include: several versions of Positron indexed shifting, FFS freewheeling cranks, Dyna Drive pedals, BioPace chainrings, 10-mm pitch chain and drivetrain (normal chain pitch is 12.7 mm), AX-series aerodynamic components, and Freehub cassette hubs (not actually new, but a refinement of an older idea). Many of them failed to catch on and quietly faded away after a couple of years.

Then, in the 1980s, two things happened that combined to make Shimano the dominant force in the industry. The first was mountain bikes. Both Shimano and SunTour jumped in early to provide components for the hot new trend. SunTour got a slight jump on Shimano with their mountain-bike-specific MountTech derailleur. However, the MounTech, with its extra linkages and pivots, was too complicated for its own good and didn't hold up under hard use. Many users replaced it with the Shimano Deore, which was a simpler, more robust design. That gave Shimano an edge in the burgeoning off-road market.

The second thing was indexed shifting. Indexed or "click" shifting was really nothing new. SunTour had already tried a system they called Mighty Click. Huret offered something they called the Commander. In fact, some of the earliest gear-shifting bicycles from the turn of the 20th century had some form of indexed shifting. Shimano had made several attempts at indexing with their Positron system, but they were all aimed at entry-level cyclists, and didn't work reliably enough to catch on. Then in 1985 Shimano introduced a redesigned Dura-Ace SIS, which stood for Shimano Index System. The new Dura-Ace utilized the slant-parallelogram derailleur design (SunTour's patent had just expired) and two spring-loaded pivots, along with a special shift lever with very distinct detents built into it. It was a revelation. Introduced at the top of the line, it was poised for trickle-down appeal. Best of all, it worked reliably.

Suddenly, everyone had to have indexed shifting. A common expression was heard at the time: "If it don't click, it don't sell." SunTour responded in 1987 with AccuShift, which worked reasonably well, but not as well as SIS. Campagnolo responded with Synchro, which really didn't work well at all. What Shimano had figured out, and which their competitors took longer to realize, was that SIS was a fully integrated system, relying upon the derailleur, shift lever, chain and sprocket profiles, and even the cables and cable housing to achieve the most reliable performance. By the time their competitors figured that out, Shimano -- the constantly moving target -- was already onto something else. By the end of the decade, most of the European component makers were flailing and failing. Campagnolo managed to hold on, mainly because of loyalty among the racing elite. Even SunTour was greatly diminished. Shimano's once-formidable competitor was sold, combined with Sakae-Ringyo, re-sold, and moved to Taiwan. SR-SunTour is only recently starting to re-enter the U.S. market, but with a much smaller range of components.

By the end of the '80s Shimano had gained a Microsoft-like near-monopoly in bicycle components, controlling approximately 85% of the market.

The idea of integration appealed to Shimano, and their next innovations took that concept to new levels. STI, or Shimano Total Integration, combined shifting and braking controls into an integrated package - which meant that if someone wanted the company's drivetrain components, they needed to get the company's brakes as well. The days of mixing and matching components from different manufacturers (and even different countries) were truly gone. More to the point, Shimano took steps to seriously discourage bicycle manufacturers from even attempting to mix parts from different makers.

In the same way that Microsoft would bundle their own software, like their own Internet Explorer, with their Windows OS on new computers, Shimano would bundle all their components into packages that discouraged bicycle manufacturers from equipping their bikes with any competing products. If a manufacturer wanted to include a different brand of shifters or brakes, for example, they were slapped with a surcharge on the Shimano components. Both mega-companies were sued in similar anti-trust suits for stifling competition. SRAM Corp, makers of Grip-Shift shifters, sued Shimano for their bundling practices. The case was settled out of court, and the price penalties were dropped, but ultimately few companies would choose to break up a Shimano group.

The result of the company's dominance is that most bikes are now marketed and sold based on the level of their Shimano group set. Sales people will tout, or buyers will ask for, the "Ultegra-level bike" or a "105-level bike" and the name on the frame is of minimal importance. And that shift of power, from the bike manufacturer to the parts manufacturer, made it harder for buyers to notice or even care as more and more bike production moved to the same handful of suppliers in China and Taiwan. Ostensibly competing bike brands are overwhelmingly selling bikes that have frames that are made by the same factory, equipped with identical components. Choosing from different bikes in the showroom has become a matter of choosing which color or graphics package a person prefers.

Yes, there is still Campagnolo - but good luck finding a Campy-equipped bike in the average bike shop. And SRAM has managed to take away some of Shimano's market share, but even their story manages to fit into the same "design it here - import it from there" business model, as the American-based component maker, just like the rest of the bicycle industry today, imports most of their components from Asia.

From a retrogrouch perspective, the saga doesn't exactly have a happy ending. But I hope readers enjoyed the 4-part series.