Last Saturday morning two masked men ran into our Veemarkt shop, put a gun to my head, waved a knife in my face, and moments later ran off with a few hundred euro in cash. I was alone since Wesley had just ridden a bakfiets full of trash off to the recycling center down the road. There wasn’t much I could do aside from stand still and subtly try to stay away from the knife the punk repeatedly threatened to slash me with without provoking him to actually do so. Several times he screamed at me “Where’s the cash?! Where’s the register?!” but it was obvious that his pistol wielding buddy had already cased the joint. He ran right upstairs to the correct drawer in the correct desk before I said a word.

It took me a moment to even realize what was going on. Is this a joke? Is a guy in a ski mask really pointing a pistol at my forehead? After a few seconds the neurons connected. Yes, that gun looks real enough. The big kitchen knife is certainly real. No I don’t have any prankster buddies with Moroccan-Amsterdam accents. And they’re yelling at me that it’s a robbery.

I’ve never been threatened so directly and dangerously before but I can easily imagine that different people could react in many ways. One might just be paralyzed from the fear. Or spurred into risky hero-action by the rush of adrenaline. I managed to keep it together. I just stood there quietly and tried to catalog as many characteristics of the two men as I could remember. I have a very good visual memory. I don’t mean to imply it’s easy under such stressful circumstances but I managed to get the following down:

Robber 1

Robber 2

Since customers don’t normally go upstairs Tom immediately recalled a suspicious incident a month or two ago: A young guy came in asking for change. Despite firmly telling him to stay downstairs he followed the employee upstairs, apparently to see where the cash is kept. When you run a couple retail shops all sorts of strange things happen but this one caught Tom’s attention for several reasons:

After last week’s robbery our descriptions of this character matched well, obviously given the limitations of what one can identify on a man wearing a woolen ski mask, a heavy sweatshirt with the hood over his head and baggy jeans.

When the men ran out (pistol guy falling and bumping down the stairs on his ass) I scrambled to find a phone and dial 1-1-2 as quickly as possible. I was running as soon as their backs were turned. Of course I later realized that one of the phones was actually sitting on the workbench within arm’s reach of where I’d been cornered. Oops, a ten second delay in calling the police. Phone in hand I ran outside hoping to see which direction they went. They were no longer visible but that in itself is an answer since there’s only one direction one could run and be out of sight within about 15 seconds. I assume they had a vehicle waiting around the corner and my vehicle prejudice says it was probably a scooter, but I didn’t actually hear or see anything to confirm that.

Reaching the police through the emergency line was frustrating though in retrospect it probably took less than a minute. The dispatcher couldn’t seem to understand why I wanted the police to come to the Veemarkt while another address (the billing address for the phone) was shown on her screen. But once they had the right address the police were there within a couple minutes. A better part of the day was then spent talking to the police, waiting for the forensics team to collect fingerprints and other samples, and then viewing a suspect through a one-way mirror. It was all pretty much like we see in movies and on TV except the criminals weren’t so polished and there was no dramatic music to make it more exciting.

This isn’t Workcycles’ first criminal incident this year. In fact it’s at least our third in just the last few months and it’s getting rather annoying to say the least:

A couple months ago and actually the last time I spent a Saturday at our Veemarkt shop a rather normal looking, well-dressed woman talked to an employee about Cargobikes, rode off on a test ride and never came back. Upon inspection we discovered that the wallet she’d left behind was filled with nothing but fake cards and small change.

We’ve also recently had two incidents at the Lijnbaansgracht shop that we can only guess were botched or failed robbery attempts. One unfortunately resulted in a fight between an employee and one of the perps, apparently instigated as a diversion.

So it’s clearly time for some changes to make it safer for everybody except the criminals. In the grand scheme the material losses are annoying but minimal. The risk of an employee, customer, family member (my kids are often in the shops) or bystander getting hurt has to be minimized.

Change number one: Eliminate cash from Workcycles’ stores.
In the Netherlands this is not so difficult. The locals already pay for most things with debit cards instead of cash. Tourists almost always have credit cards. The only significant challenge is the rentals, for which we’ve always taken a cash deposit. That’s always been an annoyance but neither the debit card nor the Dutch credit card system allow reserving deposits or making refunds. We now have an alternative credit card system that we can employ for deposits but many Dutch simply don’t have credit cards. Whatever. We’ll figure it out and then make sure that even semi-literate cretins can see that there’s no cash to take here. It’ll make our bookkeeping a good deal simpler too.

Change number two: Surveillance cameras in our shops.
I’ve always been opposed to such things but it’s both a good deterrent and would have helped the police in each of the cases above. Of course I mean REAL cameras and recording systems, not the ubiquitous fake cameras with red LED light one buys for a few euro on the Internet. Then we’ll somehow make it very clear that there are cameras. Yuck, but we need it.

Change number three: Silent alarms.
After last Saturday’s robbery I thought through the incident about 75,000 times finally coming to the conclusion that, under the circumstances, I couldn’t have done anything much differently or significantly better. I wish I could have remembered even more, noted the perp’s shoes for example but that doesn’t make much difference anyway. What I really missed was a way to silently alert the police that I was in danger, and in most of the incidents we’ve had the criminals were around longer than it took the police to reach us. I tinkered unsuccessfully with my iPhone to find a way to make an emergency call from my back pocket. That would be handy but does such an app exist? Even if it does we can’t count on every employee always having a certain type of mobile phone in their pocket. No, much better would be “panic buttons” discretely located in various places. Considering that one push of the button brings the police some care would have to be taken to ensure that they don’t get touched accidentally.

Meanwhile the police are apparently working on the case and have two potential suspects. I’ve complained about the Amsterdam police in these pages before but it’s clear that they do take the matter very seriously when weapons are involved. I’m OK and relieved not only of several hundred euro, but also that nobody was hurt.

Visitors and readers of Dutch cycling blogs might be getting the impression that the Netherlands is a sort of parallel, heavenly universe where every man, woman and child cycles around safely on perfect bike roads, blithefully tossing their rusty, black omafiets into a five story tall structure packed with thousands of other rusty, black omafietsen. And further that motor vehicle drivers are largely banished to inconvenient, circuitous routes around the cities and when actually allowed to drive near real, vulnerable humans they proceed cautiously and with the utmost courtesy.

That would be nice but alas the Dutch are human too. Like other members of this species they get impatient and angry, they sometimes have crazy opinions, they break rules, they can just be malicious asses for no apparent reason. Cycling really is usually quite fantastic here; The images you see on this blog and Amsterdamize really are representative of our daily travels. The extensive explanations of cycle infrastructure and cultural factors David Hembrow and Mark Wagenbuur write about in A view from the cycle path really are true. Nonetheless, a couple times a year I have an “incident” not entirely unlike the more frequent unpleasant or even dangerous encounters one has cycling in most other places. I’ll describe the most recent examples.


No, this isn’t the actual van but it is the same model, in the same neighborhood and it’s a nice picture so it will do nicely. Thanks “Roel”.

Incident 1: Mr. van Driver
Last summer I riding with my then 22 month old son between my arms after having picked him up from his daycare. Stopped at a red light behind other “commuting” cyclists on a narrow canal street (Singel for those who know A’dam) the driver of a small delivery van pulls up so closely that he’s actually touching my left calf with his bumper. Obviously somewhat perturbed I turn around to look at the driver and silently motion “back up a little”, though the expression on my face certainly said something more like “back the f__k up you psychotic asshole!” But silly me, that’s apparently just what he wanted me to think and I get nothing but pure aggression in return. There wasn’t much room but I made my way forward in the group of waiting cyclists to avoid a conflict. So I thought. The light turns green and ten or so cyclists push off across the intersection (Raadhuisstraat). As we’re funneling back into the Singel Mr. van Driver charges along to the left squeezing us off the road into the bollards and cafe tables there. I don’t know whether he was targeting me specifically but son and I ended up pressed between van and bollard. Acting instinctively I bang the side of his van with my fist or elbow. Mistake. Touching an Amsterdam car lover’s beloved vehicle is apparently the “wanna fight?!” signal. Don’t, for example, ever touch a taxi unless you want to take a ride in it or get into an argument with it’s driver.

So Mr. van Driver driver slams on the brakes trapping us, jumps out of his vehicle and begins the scene many friends have independently described. I’ll translate the obvious: “Don’t you ever (insert expletives) touch my car! I’ll (more expletives) kill you!” Of course I’m equally livid and tunnel visoned now and screaming at him that he already has tried to kill us, that I hit his van only after it hit us. Etc etc but it’s all pointless. Son is screaming his head off at the scene. Other cyclists and bystanders are disappearing as fast as possible to avoid having to help or be a witness (the Dutch are amazing at this). We’re at a standoff: He’s blocking our way and with a toddler laden bike I’m hardly maneuverable anyway. Finally after a couple minutes of this the driver of one of the waiting cars behind comes over to talk some sense and get things moving again. Fortunately he’s gigantic, commanding some respect from Mr. van Driver. He begrudgingly gets back into his van and drives away.

Why on earth, you ask, didn’t I call the police? Because I don’t think they would have helped. They might even have given me trouble for touching his vehicle, regardless of the circumstances that led to it. Well mayyybe it could have fallen in my favor just out of prejudice; Mr. van Driver was of a non-native ethnicity. The cycling conditions might be amazing here but the Amsterdam police often suck.

The following day I took a photo at the same place, from the same perspective, minus VW Golf and man getting harassed.

Incident 2: Four kids in a VW Golf against the older man
This Spring I was again riding home with son on bike and just a block before home we come across somebody else’s “incident”. A man of 60ish years old on a bike is being hassled by four twenty somethings in VW Golf. We’re behind the car watching the scene unfold. They’re honking and yelling at him to get out of the way, but really our neighborhood street isn’t wide enough for a car to pass a moving cyclist. Besides it has big speed bumps so cars don’t go much faster than cyclists anyway. Two blocks away on either side are wider through roads for car traffic. This is well engineered traffic calming but these guys are unclear on the concept. They’re just on the wrong road.

So after they lay on the horn a few times and yell several expletives the man on the bike stops, thus blocking the guys in the car. The yelling and threatening from within the car escalates while the man (at least outwardly) remains calm. Four on one doesn’t seem fair and given our location this is likely a neighbor. I ride next to the car and ask the guys through the open windows what the problem is. Obviously I already know what’s going on but you have to start somewhere. They bitch loudly that the man is taking up the whole road, that he should ride closer to the right. I reply that it might seem so from inside a car but it just doesn’t work that way. One cannot safely cycle centimeters from the parked cars. Sure it’s annoying that they have to drive slowly but that’s just what happens when you try to bypass car traffic on a neighborhood street. While they gradually calm down both the older man and I repeat this several times in various ways. They relax after a while and drive off with no apparent hard feelings.

A different day, a friend instead of my daughter… but the same idea. This is how we roll.

Incident 3: The four scooter guys
Thursday is my papa day. Kyoko teaches art classes while I take the kids. After picking P1 up from his Montessori class we ride the Cargobike across town to a play date with friends. Riding down the bike path on the Spuistraat in the city center I get elbowed from behind by two young guys on a scooter. They shove me and bump the bakfiets, kids arms hanging out the sides. Two buddies on another scooter were just ahead. I guess they figured they’d be gone before I could possibly do anything. But 30m further they got stuck while a tram crossed. I rode up behind them, jammed my elbow into the guy’s back to get him to turn around… and then punched him as hard as I possibly could in his face. I was aiming for the nose but connected well with a cheek. I was so angry and confused that I would have kept hitting him had I not been straddling a Cargobike with two tots in it.

I can accept youthful stupidity; driving vehicles too fast, risking people’s lives. I did it too as did most of my friends. But now as a dad and with responsibility for more than a dozen employees I’m far more conscious of such risks. But deliberately trying to knock over a family with little kids on a bike? That’s pure evil, way beyond being young and dumb. I’m sure some will comment that punching the guy was the wrong approach for various reasons and perhaps they’re right. But it is what I did, right or wrong. It probably wasn’t the most practical thing to do but it sure was satisfying.

But before you go off talking, blogging and tweeting how bad cycling in the Netherlands is keep in mind that the above are the total of noteworthy incidents I’ve had or seen in the last few years of cycling every day in a major city. As much might happen within a couple weeks or even days riding in the US or UK.

In promoting cycling for transportation worldwide most of the discussion and action tends to focus on getting adults on bikes, particularly for that very American concept of “commuting” a considerable distance from home to work. Here in the Netherlands cycling for transportation just means generally getting around by bicycle. It’s mostly short distances since people tend to live much closer to work or school. Few would consider cycling greater distances unless it’s just for fun; Urbanites would instead take a train and country folk would most likely drive.

Here cyclists are mostly created from birth, both by example and by teaching kids to ride bikes at a very young age. Below is our story of our son P1 who now at the tender age of 2 1/2 is quite comfortable on a real pedal bike without “training wheels”. With a sample of one it’s certainly not scientifically proven but friends and customers have also had success with the same methods. So without further ado, here’s a timeline of P1′s development as a cyclist (so far). Please note that not all of the pictures show P1 at the age the activity actually begun:

1. One month: Riding as passenger in the bakfiets

It’s debatable whether feeling the motions of cycling from a very early age contribute toward one’s inclination toward cycling, or their development of balance months later. But P1 visibly enjoyed riding in the bike, watching the sights and sky go by. As young as four or five months old we were taking him on longer cycling trips, for example along the Amstel river as in the photo above. The bike is our very popular Cargobike Long.

2. Eight months: Riding as passenger up front on normal bike

We normally state nine months as the time to begin carrying a child in the front seat. P1 was already highly mobile and had been sitting securely for quite some time at eight months so we started a little earlier. Again it’s debatable how much this relatively passive activity contributes to the later development of cycling skills but my educated guess is that riding in the front seat of a parent’s bike is so much like cycling that there must be some learning involved. Kids are like sponges for knowledge and skills and here they’re seeing and feeling the world from exactly the same perspective as the cyclist; the dynamics of cycling, the sights of the city, the interactions with other road users. They even learn how to use the bike’s controls; P1 began pulling on the brake levers, twisting the shifter and ringing the bell within a year or so. Sometimes it’s terribly cute but other times it’s a little annoying to have a signal turn green only to find yourself in the bike’s heaviest gear with a little hand pulling the front brake lever as hard as possible.

3. Always: Generally having a lot of freedom

It seems that the Dutch or at least Amsterdammers give their kids a lot of freedom to play and explore. We often travel with our kids and elsewhere people are amazed or shocked to see a little one crawling around while we rest along a hiking trail, climbing big kid’s structures at a playground, or pushing a little shopping cart though the supermarket. Are they well behaved and playing safely because we’ve allowed them the freedom to learn, or are we just lucky to have a couple well behaved kids? Perhaps mostly the latter but really I cannot say. It is clear though that the local kids are given more space than kids elsewhere, and spend much less time strapped into strollers and the back seats of cars. To my untrained eye these 2-5 year olds seem more physically mature, at least with respect to the activities we see such as riding bikes and kick scooters, and climbing in playgrounds.

4. 12 months: Riding a baby bakfiets

I bought this tiny, antique, wooden bakfiets two years ago on Queen’s Day for €5.00. Since then my son and countless other kids have enjoyed it. P1 began riding it about when he began walking thus about a year old. It’s really tiny and maneuverable and that makes a big difference; Kids have to feel comfortable with these “toys”. I really believe that the ergonomics influence their experience and learning curve considerably. The lesson: Get little vehicles that fit and work properly and that are light enough for the child to have fun with. If necessary tinker a little to lower a seat so so your child get her feet on the ground, or shorten a handlebar because the manufacturer didn’t bother to do so. Most of the little bikes and trikes our kids use have been modified in some simple ways.

After a few months P1 would tear around the bikes at Workcycles Jordaan shop on the little bakfiets, skidding the rear wheel or intentionally flipping it, giggling as he rolled across the floor. Probably once or twice he hurt himself enough to cry but I honestly cannot remember it.

5. 18 months: Riding a Micro Mini scooter

P1′s first experience in riding a wheeled vehicle requiring balance was with the Micro Mini Scooter. The box says ages three and up but that must just be to please the lawyers of the firm’s American distributor. Even much younger kids love riding these little kick scooters. At a year and a half P1 made his first tentative steps around the shop (with the handlebar at about eye level) and gradually developed his skills on it. A few months later he would speed through the store, surfing through the parked bikes. What’s great about the Micro Mini is that it’s a three wheeler with the behavior of a two wheeler. At rest it stands up so a child can easily begin pushing around on it. But it steers by leaning with very natural dynamics so to really ride it one must develop the same balance skills as cycling. It also folds up to carry in a bike basket or backpack and weighs approximately nothing.

6. 25 months: Riding a balance bike

Once P1 was comfortable on the kick scooter I figured he could also ride a balance bike. He wanted to try it but even the smallest model (the Micro G Bike) was too tall for him at 18-19 months. I made the mistake of encouraging him to try anyway but then he fell off several times, got frustrated and refused to go near it for the following half year. Even lowering it my installing smaller wheels and dressing it up as a motorcycle (like many little boys he’s fascinated with motorcycles) didn’t help:

Then one day at about 25 months old he just stepped over the G-Bike and pushed off. Already having months of experience on both the little bakfiets and the kick scooter it was only a few minutes before he was gliding through the shop this time.

P1 became inseparable from his balance bike which has been really handy for mom and dad. He rides it to the store, to the park, and the whole day alongside us as we go about our business in the city. Rarely do we need to carry him. He’s much faster on the bike than Kyoko walking with P2 in the stroller or on our backs so he stops and rides up and down steps or practices other tricks while mom catches up. We’ve even dropped him into the local skate/BMX bike bowl to copy the tricks he sees the big kids doing.

7. 32 months: Riding a real bike without pedals (without training wheels)
He only did this for a few hours and I didn’t think to take a picture. To ease the transition from balance bike to bigger and heavier “real” bike I removed the pedals and let P1 ride around for an afternoon. He knew exactly what was going on and was totally psyched to ride his “real BMX bike”. Not only did this help P1 get used to the bike, it also gave me an opportunity to adjust the handlebars and saddle for him. Even at their lowest adjustments both saddle and handlebar were too high. I shortened the seat post and cut a couple centimeters off the top of the seat tube to lower the saddle. The handlebar was far too high so I fashioned an adapter to clamp it at the crossbar instead of at the normal spot. I would have just replaced the handlebar with a lower one but this stem has strange dimensions.

Note that this bike never had nor will have “training wheels”. That’s because training wheels actually hinder the process of learning to ride a bike.

A little about the bike itself:
I did quite a bit of research into the available kid’s bikes with 12″ wheels before buying. Almost of the bikes in this size are really awful; badly “designed”, crudely made and shockingly heavy with terrible bearings, covered in tasteless graphics. In fact the only decent 12″ bike I found was this Specialized Hot Rock 12. It has an aluminium frame, rims and handlebar, good quality tires and fairly tasteful graphics. By no means is it perfect. The cheap, steel cranks are much too wide forcing P1 to pedal like a duck (if a duck could pedal, that is) and the handlebar and stem are too tall and have nonstandard dimensions. It weighs 7kg without the training wheels which we never used. That seems light for us but really isn’t light for a 12kg rider. For comparison sake his Micro G-Bike weighs just 2kg.

8. 32 months: Riding a real bike

A few days later we brought the “real BMX bike” to the Vondelpark, this time with the pedals installed. P1 wasn’t so happy about this development so first we flipped the bike upside down and made a game of “pedal”… “brake”… “pedal”… “brake”. That was fun so then we did the same with him on the bike, me supporting the bike from the saddle while he pedaled and braked his way around the park. I gradually held the bike more and more lightly and after a few minutes he continued pedaling (and balancing) alone. After all P1 had long since developed the skills to ride the bike.

The following weekend P1 did a few laps around the big Westerpark and really became more relaxed on his bike. Though kids learn to ride young here it’s still rather strange to see such a small child riding a bike. Thus P1 gets an incredible number of stares, “awwww look, how cute”s, and “How did you do that? My child is four and still can’t ride a two-wheeler.”s

So now P1 can ride a bike but actually he still prefers his balance bike. Each day when we head out together I ask him which bike he wants and he always chooses the G-Bike. Why? Because it’s smaller and lighter and more fun. P1 can toss it around, try doing wheelies, carry it up steps, fall off it painlessly. That little bike is to him what a BMX or trials bike is to a big kid. And I’m very happy about that; I’ve had the proud papa moments of seeing my 2 year old ride a real bike yet we can still go about the city with his much lighter and easier to carry (in the basket of my own bike for example) balance bike.

I wish you the same success making your own little ones into happy cyclists!

There are few things more fun than cycling with your kids, especially when they’re in front of you so you can talk as you ride. A baby giggles, gurgles and squeals at all of the sights and probably the dynamics of cycling as well. With a toddler the communication is obviously more intellectually stimulating. P1 (2.5 yrs old): “Papa, papa… Taxi, blue Land Rover jeep winch, two motorcycle! Thaaaat’s funny. No helmet racing bicycle! Playground! Slide. Go to plaaaayyyyy ground!!! Plaaaaaayyyyy ground!!!!” Still, nowhere is P1 more motivated to articulate complete concepts than on the bike. I expect the same will be true for P2, except probably with girl topics instead of our current mini gearhead talk.

Both P1 and P2 began riding in the Cargobike at about a month old (in a Maxi Cosi secured in the box) and then moved to sitting on the bench at about nine months old. P1 absolutely loved watching the world go by from the Maxi-Cosi and even at just a few months old was happy (or sleeping) for rides up to a couple hours long. P2 on the other hand, just didn’t like riding until she could sit up. Of course she still went in the bike almost daily for errands, to the daycare, to friends etc but we didn’t even bother to try a longer ride with her. It was clear it would just be too frustrating.

P2 (10mo old) began to enjoy cycling about a month ago when she began to sit either in the child seat behind the handlebars of our Fr8, or on the bench of the Cargobike. She sits in the same support seat we used for P1 (the shell of a Bobike Mini), mounted on the right side of the bench. Now, she’s clearly enjoying herself, smiling, squealing and waving her arms as we ride. It’s also a lot more convenient not having to bring the Maxi-Cosi along and it’s freed up lots of room in the box for other stuff: P1′s tiny bicycle, picnic gear, or perhaps everything the family needs for a few days on the road.

With P2 now enjoying the ride and the spring weather appearing it’s time to get back to the long bike rides through the countryside we so enjoy. Last year we did a number of quite long rides with P1, even bike touring a hilly area of France with him between my arms. But having two kids makes everything more complicated so first a little mini-tour to refine what we need to bring along, figure out how far we can ride and how much we have to stop and just plain old see whether it’s still fun. So last weekend I escaped my usual Saturday shop duties for a weekend family bike tour.

We figured 50km to be a reasonable distance and there are fortunately interesting routes and destinations in practically every direction. The weather in these parts is notoriously fickle at this time of year so going much further would be akin to asking the gods for a day of force 5 headwinds blowing a steady rain into our faces for the return trip. A bakfiets is probably only marginally more aerodynamic than a barn door and it doesn’t fit in the train for a shortcut home so we played it safe. Lage Vuursche, a village in the “Utrechtse Heuvelrug” (a wooded area with some small hills in the middle of the Netherlands) was chosen as destination, a hotel reservation for Saturday night made and the bikes checked over thoroughly. I would ride the Cargobike with the two kids and most of our stuff. Kyoko would ride our Fr8 city bike with just the snacks (lots of them!) in the bin on the front carrier. Coincidentally I found a clean sheet of eggcrate foam just big enough to line the floor of the bakfiets box. A little trimming and it fit perfectly. P1 was on hand to test our “instant bed” and approved… immediately taking a nap in the box.

The gods smiled upon our plans and blessed us with a beautiful Saturday and a forecast of a rainy but warm Sunday. I can live with that. A nice big breakfast, comfy clothes on, everybody smeared with the first sunscreen of the year and off we began our little adventure. With a warm day ahead we didn’t want the bakfiets canopy greenhousing the kids so I wrapped it up with a small tie-down strap and stowed it under the bench. Not bringing a rain canopy in the beginning April would be very dumb! Loading up the bikes I couldn’t help but note the sheer volume of stuff we were bringing: We filled the bakfiets box and the bin on the Fr8. In retrospect I shouldn’t have been surprised; It was mostly just clothes, raingear and other light, soft items just loosely packed in bags instead of being tightly stuffed into panniers. We brought a small sleeping bag along for possible picnics, to wrap the kids in if it got cold or for napping in the bak. And anyway we are packing for a family of four, mostly in one bike.

It wasn’t long before the first stop was necessary: An unhappy P2 turned out to be a hat that’d flopped over her eyes. P1 wanted his sunglasses, which he mostly wears pushed back on top of his head.

Riding with little ones you just have to accept and enjoy LOTS of stops. First major stop was for a snack and playtime along the Waver river. Here we also had a lovely talk with an older couple heading the other direction on their own weekend tour. Yes, bike touring is very popular in the Netherlands, particularly amongst those of the “empty nest” age group.

Scrutinize this picture carefully; It’s the only one with me in it. A great thing about this area is that we can ride almost endlessly on such paths. We’re only about 10km from Amsterdam but you wouldn’t know it from the scene.

An hour or so later it was lunch (and play) time. We stopped at a great little cafe along a river in the village of Baambrugge. P1 enjoyed until it dawned on him that we wouldn’t be going canoeing like those who glided past: “Caaaaanooooooo!! Caaaaanooooooo riiiiide!!!!” and so he screamed, writhing and kicking while I secured him in the bakfiets again. This is the main reason the bakfiets has harnesses, more so than protection in the unlikely case of a crash. Of course he calmed down again after a few minutes but continues to ask about going canoeing. I’m stalling by telling him he needs to first learn to swim.

Another hour or two further (I don’t keep track of such things nor do we have computers on any of our bikes) we escaped the paved world entirely, riding on smooth dirt paths through a nature preserve. Here P1 points out the obvious to us.

Probably already six hours “on the road” at this point the kids are looking pretty fried. No more hamming it up for the camera.

And a little while later they’re both lights out. P2 can rest her head against the clothes we’ve stuffed behind her head but P1 is doing the nodding thing, waking himself up. We rearrange some baggage, make a little nest with the sleeping bag and plop him in there. We’re less than 10km from Lage Vuursche, entirely on these perfect dirt paths so the danger factor is exceedingly low.

The mostly elderly guests at our rather posh hotel didn’t seem to know what to make of this bike riding family with two free-range tikes. I think we scared them away from this patio. Interestingly, even in the Netherlands, even in an area extremely popular amongst cyclists… there was no bike rack at all at the hotel and we seemed to be the only guests who’d arrived by bike. Lacking any more obvious option we just parked the bikes on the patio and nobody complained.

Sunday morning was cooler, foggy and wet but not really raining; perfect cycling weather in my book. Still it was cool enough to better have the kids out of the wind so the canopy went up, and stayed up the whole day. In case you’re wondering the black tape on the canopy window covers a couple little holes caused by the two times the bike was tossed over into the canal by the wind.

The website for Lage Vuusche mentions the Castle Drakensteyn. Not reading the description carefully I promised P1 that we’d visit the castle this morning. But despite Drakensteyn being just a few hundred meters from our hotel there was not a sign to be found anywhere, never mind an entrance for visitors. There’s just a big, imposing fence and lots of high-tech security gear surrounding the grounds. I asked a woman working at the hotel and she replied “Which castle? There are many castles in Holland… Oh sorry, I’m not from around here.” A couple of local women outside were more helpful. They informed me, clearly amused by my question, that Drakensteyn is the summer home of Queen Beatrix. It was further just refurbished and will soon become the permanent residence of (soon to be king and queen) Alexander and Maxima. None of my Dutch colleagues or friends seemed to know this either so I don’t feel like such an idiot. (And according to Frits below, this isn’t even correct.)

Anyhow the promise of a castle visit remained and the ladies told me of another castle, called “Groeneveld” less than 10km through the woods. They were sure you could visit. It was in the opposite direction from home but a promise is a promise and it seemed a worthy destination as well. So off we headed for Kasteel Groeneveld. It was a beautiful ride and only took about half an hour. Upon arriving the kids were of course…

…asleep. With the canopy up they sleep better because the corner of the canopy works perfectly to nestle their heads into. Unless we lived in a desert or tropical climate I couldn’t fathom not having this canopy.

So we did actually go to a castle (thus fulfilling the promise!) but the kids unfortunately slept through it. It’s probably just as well since this castle was also “closed”, with no signs of opening times or anything. At least we could get up close and I got to take a nice photo.

Oh, in case you’re wondering what bike Kyoko was riding here she is, snacking in front of the castle. It’s just my current daily ride: a Fr8 with a random collection of parts I’ve been testing. It’s now a three speed with drum brakes front and rear. A Nu Vinci infinitely variable hub and the latest Shimano roller brakes will be installed soon for their long term test. The bin on the front carrier is cut away because there’s usually a child seat behind the handlebars and bin (fixed to frame) would otherwise interfere with the footrests (that turn with the handlebar). A couple strips of duct tape keep the bags from falling out the back this weekend. Nope, you don’t need a special bike to go touring and I know lots of folks here who’ve done far more ambitious rides on far more basic bikes.

When the kids woke up a while later it was play, snack and coffee time again. Here P1 demonstrates why a rock-solid parking stand (and strong spokes) are important. He climbs up, sits on the rack and insists we ride like this just like he sees the big kids and adults do all the time. No, not yet kid – certainly not on a bike without any foot/skirt guards over the rear wheel.

About halfway home (different route, even more nature reserves) we encountered an odd obstacle for the Netherlands. This gate was locked with a padlock. Usually these are just secured with a latch since (I assumed) they’re to prevent large animals from passing through. A standard size bike can be squeezed through the chicane with a little maneuvering but not a 2.5 meter long 40+ kg bakfiets. Fortunately a very sweet older couple helped us lift the bakfiets over the gate (without the kids inside!). The gate at the other side of this area just had a latch as usual.

The ride through this nature reserve (first image above in this post) was worth the little hassle though. It’s a very beautiful marshland. The rest of the ride home was equally scenic and peaceful: a warm lunch at a village cafe, a good playground to let the kids work off some steam and dinner at a favorite restaurant in Ouderkerk aan de Amstel. Finally we rode home with full tummies as it was getting dark and quite cold. The sleeping bag came out again to cover up the kids who of course fell asleep for the last leg.

It was a great trip and many handy lessons were learned for future editions. But the basic format of touring from home with the kids in the bakfiets and Kyoko on a simple city bike works perfectly. The distance of 50-60km seems about right. Much further would just take too long with all the stops required. Hopefully we can choose a new direction and get out for such a ride each month or so while it’s warm.

The coastal climate keeps it from snowing in Amsterdam as much as you’d figure for a place quite far north and with a reputation for considerable rainfall. Some winters it hardly snows at all while some winters it begins in November and snows regularly until spring. Still it almost never snows more than perhaps ten centimeters and then it usually warms up a couple days later, making a slushy, dirty mess and gradually disappearing.

This winter, however, it’s already snowed more in November and the first half of December than we usually see all year. No matter; we have our bikes to get around and today’s snowfall was just what I needed to remember that. This morning I had a plan to train at the Velodrome with my friend Toon. Yes, I still do that sort of thing and no, there is no conflict between being a cyclist for both transportation and fun/fitness. The Amsterdam Velodrome is great way to stay fit when it’s like this outside. It’s just warm enough to wear shorts and even in a snowstorm there are 30 or 40 riders in a training session paceline.


Here’s a picture I coincidentally found of Toon at the Velodrome. See? Nice and warm and dry and fast; sure beats sitting on a stationary trainer at home.

The only challenge today was that I had my track bike at home, not in the storage at the velodrome. Carrying a bike while riding a bike is no big deal; usually I do it with the bakfiets. The front wheel comes off and I strap the handlebar against the back of the box. The rear wheel stands on the front edge of the box and a pair of straps hold the whole rig upright. Looks a little funny but it works like a charm. You might be thinking “Why doesn’t he just ride with the track bike rolling alongside like most normal folks would do?” Or alternatively “Why doesn’t he just ride that darn track bike like the entire world population of skinny-jeans with U-lock wearing, butt-crack showing hipsters. And there is a reason: At a wooden velodrome it’s not allowed to ride on tires that have ever been ridden outside. They can pick up debris that would damage the track surface.

Anyhow Kyoko needed the bakfiets to bring the kids to the daycare this morning and for reasons to mundane to explain our Fr8 city bike was at the shop. That left me with my Brompton folding bike, which actually sucks in snow much less than you’d expect. It is sketchy handling on the slippery, squishy stuff but it’s also very low to the ground making it really easy to do the one foot “outrigger” or tripod thing. So for lack of a better option I set the saddle a few cm lower than usual, tossed the track bike on my right shoulder and set off through about 10cm of unplowed snow holding the Brompton’s handlebar with my left hand. Comfortable it was not but neither was it dangerous; I just had a few kilometers to ride, almost entirely on separated bike paths. I didn’t fall until I tried to dismount at Toon’s house. Then I discovered that the neighborhood road I’d been cycling on was as slippery as a greased pig and fell immediately on my butt with two bikes on top of me. So much for grace.

I did consider the other transport options this morning:

Car: Well, we don’t have one of our own. I could probably have borrowed a friend’s car but it’s parked about half as far away as I had to ride anyway. In any case auto traffic around the city was a mess. The few snowplows they have here were running way behind the heavy snowfall and cars were stuck everywhere.

Tram: There’s a tram that runs between our two houses, with just another few minutes walk on his end. Problem is that the trams and buses were all getting stuck behind the floundering cars and trucks. One of my Workcycles colleagues spent half the afternoon trying to cross the city by tram and finally ended up walking most of it out of frustration. The trams that are running smoothly are jam packed so I also wouldn’t have made any friends carrying a bike frame and a pair of wheels.

Taxi:That would be convenient aside from sitting in traffic while watching the meter tick away at the alarmingly fast Amsterdam taxi rate. Oh, yes, I’d still have to disassemble and reassemble the bike to fit it in the trunk. Basically we only take taxis in Amsterdam when headed to deliver a baby or return home with that baby. Four times thus.

Walking: The distance was just too far for a reasonable walk. It would have taken well over an hour.

This evening after work I rode the Cargobike (bakfiets) to the daycare to pick the kids up. By then quite a bit more snow had fallen and it was either packed down into ice on the car roads or half packed and half sliced up into zig-zag tracks on the bike paths. The bakfiets is actually quite good in such crappy cycling conditions. Though the front wheel is lightly loaded and slides fairly easily the low center of gravity and long wheelbase make for very forgiving handling. Kyoko and I both prefer it to our city bikes when it’s slippery. When it’s as slippery as it was this evening falling is more an inevitability than a bad scenario. Falling with the children under a tough canopy in the wooden box of the bakfiets is annoying for you but probably just funny for your kids. Falling with kid(s) on child seats on a regular bike will result in at least one snowy, screaming kid.

I did drop the bakfiets once this evening; After successfully navigating the paths, roads and sidewalks (hey, whatever works when it looks like this out) to our home I once again today fell on my butt after dismounting at my destination. Two year old Pascal’s response while on his side under the canopy? “Bakfiets Boom! Bakfiets Boom!”

This is a slightly updated repost: Winter is upon us somewhat early this year and this is highly relevant info for anybody who cycles through the winter, especially if your bike is stored outdoors.

By far the most common problem that the cyclist encounters with winter cycling is the brake or gear cables freezing. This is generally the result of water condensing or dripping into the cable housing and then freezing, effectively bonding the inner cable to the housing. It only takes a tiny bit of water to do this but we fortunately have a solution. Read below for an explanation.
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We arrived at work yesterday figuring that the sub-zero cold, wind and snow would keep most of the customers away, leaving us with time to work on some projects. The highest priority is reconfiguring our workshop after building a massive, floor-anchored, steel frame to hang our electric bike lifts from. It’s a great improvement but not entirely our own initiative. The lifts, you see, were bolted into the 150 or 200 year old wooden beams of our ceiling… and thus the floor of the neighbors upstairs. Though the lifts are nearly new and operate very quietly they do make some vibration. Standing on the concrete (over sand) floor we never noticed this vibration but it drove the lady upstairs crazy. Actually she’s complained very vocally and angrily about a lot of things, apparently calling and writing every possible authority on a regular basis. Most of her complaints have nothing to do with our activities (there’s another bike workshop next door and several apartments have been renovated), but the vibration was a legitimate issue according to the various city inspectors who visited to investigate.

So the city ordered the building owner (a social housing corporation that manages tens of thousands of properties) to fix the vibration problem. It was decided that the only solution was to totally isolate the lifts from the floor beams, and the only practical way to do that was to build a steel frame all the way to the floor. We’re very fortunate and thankful that they took care of the job and paid for it. But it still requires an investment of several days of our labor to refit the lifts and lights. We took the opportunity to make them fully adjustable on both X and Y axis as well as angle, and now we’re adding more lights. I don’t think a workshop can ever have enough light.

Comments one year later: Apparently the frame has solved the vibration problem since we haven’t heard a peep from our upstairs neighbor. Meanwhile the mechanics are very happy to have been able to adjust the lifts to exactly the location and angle where they can most efficiently and comfortably work.

For those of you who build and repair (heavy) city and transport bikes: Such lifts are absolutely the only way to work. These bikes are much too heavy and unwieldy to manually heft into the workstands used in most bike shops outside the Netherlands. Those are intended for lighter, recreational bikes. The lifts are also highly flexible; You can lift only the front or rear, or perhaps one side of a big three wheeler. When working on something other than bikes you can simply raise the hooks above head height and then you’ve lots of free floor space – often really handy in a shop that builds and repairs wooden boxes.

Anyhow, this is all we were thinking about yesterday morning so I got busy with the scaffold, drills, plugs, screws and wiring to hang the fluorescent boxes on our ancient ceiling. And then the first snowy Cargobike and customer came in:

Customer: “My bike is almost impossible to ride. It’s really slow, and I think the brake lever might be broken.”

Mechanic: “I’m pretty sure your cables are frozen.”

Customer: “But I think there’s also something wrong with the brake.”

Mechanic: “The brakes are probably fine but they’re being locked by the frozen cables.”

Customer: “Oh wait, now it seems to be fine.”

Mechanic: “Sure, your bike is indoors so the cable just thawed, releasing the brake. It’ll freeze again a few moments after going outside. If you can wait 15 minutes I’ll fix it.

While working on this bike another snowy bike came in with the same problem, and so it went the whole day. Alexis and I pulled and flushed the cables of at least 15 bikes yesterday. The problem is that Amsterdam bikes live outdoors, rain or shine. Tiny amounts of water drip and condense into the cable housings. On good quality bikes the cables are stainless steel and the housings are lined with polyethelene or another low friction plastic so the water doesn’t make much difference… until the thermometer goes below the freezing point. Then the cable freezes inside the housing. Usually it creates enough friction that pulling hard on the brake lever will overcome the friction, actuating the brake but the brake’s return spring cannot pull it back… thus locked brakes.

So here’s what you do to fix (or prevent) a frozen cable:

1. Let it thaw.

2. Remove the crimped end cap and make sure the end of the cable isn’t unwound or damaged. If it is either rewind, shorten or replace the cable as necessary.

3. Remove any kinks in the cable so that it can easily be pulled and reinserted through the housing.

4. Pull the cable out.

5. Seal the nozzle of a compressed air pistol against the upper end of the housing and blow everything possible out of the housing.

6. Seal the dispenser straw of a suitable light oil against the brake lever end of the housing. It might be necessary to pull the housing cap to do this. We use a generic multipurpose oil with teflon but just about any light oil should work fine. Don’t use “dry” type lubricant because it won’t displace the water for long.

7. Spray the oil into the housing until it begins coming out the other end.

5.5 Oops. Put a rag at the brake end of the housing to catch the oil coming out at great velocity.

8-9-10. Thread the cable back into the housing, readjust the brake and crimp a new end on.

This fix is valid for any brake (or gear) cable but I’m basically assuming the bike has roller brakes here. Drum brakes can pull their own freezing tricks and rim brakes simply aren’t suitable for storing outdoors and riding in snow country. Now the techies can ask me why I didn’t write anything about disk brakes.

This experience also demonstrates something about Amsterdam cyclists: Not only do they store their bikes on the street, they also ride in ALL conditions including snow. Of course they do; How else would they get to work, take the kids to school, do the groceries and visit their friends?

Speaking of snow, here’s a sneak peek at our surprising new development: The WorkCycles Child Transport Sled. We’re strong proponents of the K.I.S.S. philosophy (Keep It Simple Stupid) and our Sled meets the K.I.S.S. criteria beautifully: It needs no wheels, tires, bearings, towing linkage or even harnesses. Just shove the kid in and go! It’s versatile too: You can pull it while walking, tie the patented “S.T.R.A.P.” (Singular Tied/Releasable Attaching Piece-of-plastic-webbing) to your bike or even have your dog(s) or oxen pull it from a yoke. When there’s no snow it can be attached to the front carrier of your bike as a convenient transport bin.

In testing the WorkCycles sled we also learned that Amsterdammers not only ride their bikes all year round in all conditions, they can also make really big snowballs.

One morning about a week ago I walked outside with the kids on the way to their daycare to discover that our beloved bakfiets had disappeared. A number of Workcycles customer bikes have been stolen recently so theft was our first thought. Nonetheless I walked across the street for a closer look and found the bike hanging from its front wheel. The second lock, which I usually leave behind on that rail, wasn’t connected to the frame. I’m really careful about locking so this all seemed very strange.

A neighbor, headed to unlock his own bike, commented that he’d just seen some guys busy here. Probably they’d tossed the bakfiets over as a joke. He was kind enough to help me pull the 40kg bike back onto land and I continued on to the daycare and work. Aside from some scratches on the box and canopy there was no visible damage.

The bike had been sitting in the water past the rear hub so I asked our shop guys to open the hub, clean the taillamp and chain etc. They found surprisingly just a few drops of water in the hub but that’s still too much. Cleaned and re-lubricated, back in the bike, and the hub now actually feels much better than before. This hub, not uncommon for early Shimano Nexus 8 speeds, was noticeably rough in the fourth gear. Freshly lubed and adjusted, this has all but disappeared.

Fast forward a few days to Friday morning. A storm was passing through (as it often is) and the wind was blowing like mad last night. Bikes, scooters, branches, motorcycles are all over the streets and pavements. Kyoko looks outside and yep, the bakfiets has disappeared into the canal again. From our third floor (fourth to those counting American style) dining room perspective we can just barely see the bottom of the box and a parking stand leg poking into the air. As sentient beings we put 2 + 2 + 2 together and realize that it was, in all likelihood, the wind that tossed the bakfiets off the pavement and not some local, malcontent youths.

But why, all of sudden, does the bike get knocked over by the wind twice in a week when it’s never happened before in the last two years of parking it in the very same spot? Our new habit must be to blame: About a week ago we began leaving the canopy on the bike instead of bringing it inside every evening. It seemed more convenient… and I suppose it would be
if we didn’t park the bike in such an exposed location. Thus a word of warning: Don’t leave your kids in a bakfiets with canopy up in a windstorm next to a canal.

Staten Island Criterium 1982, I’m the kid with orange helmet, blue jersey, red arm pieces.

Speaking of windstorms my old bike racing buddy Chris sent me this photo from our bike racing days as young teens. It was March 1982 and I’d just moved up to the Junior category (ages 15-18) as District Champion in the Intermediate category (ages 12-14). The race was a criterium on a highly exposed course along the beach in Staten Island, NY. We did thousands of such, little races but I remember this one vividly because it was freezing cold and the wind was absolutely howling. Only those with glasses wore eye protection in those days and clouds of sand kicked up from the beach got in our eyes. Lots of it. At least half the field called it quits after it was too painful to continue. The wind and resulting echelons sliced up what remained of the field and finally only a handful of us finished. Our home was just a short drive away and my dad had lived on Staten Island so my folks came along to watch. Even given the awful conditions in such a meaningless race, quitting was not an option today. Instead I won a meal at a local Italian restaurant (or something like that) and washed sand out of my eyes for days. Those were the days.

Well, it’s at least thought provoking… especially if you can ignore such details as the radial spoked front wheel with disk brake and the lack of several important, practical details. Most notably, where’s the little fold down seat for a toddler?

From here on Designboom

Thanks to Sjoerd of Double Dutch in Switzerland.

Apologies for the lack of blogging action here at BeM. We’re just super busy with “business as usual” at Workcycles and taking turns going on holiday after lots of busy business as usual for many months.

What’s new? Well, speaking of toddlers, lots of things though the most recent proud papa moment was 26 month old Pascal suddenly deciding that the balance bike (loopfiets) is cool after all. So he just got on and pushed off. A week later he’s tearing around like he was born on the thing. It’s quite surreal to see a two year old riding a bike. I haven’t had a chance to snap any photos yet so here are a couple just a week earlier of P1 demonstrating his mad scooter skills. He’s been riding this little Micro Mini scooter (€70 at Workcycles!) for 8 months already so the balance thing is already second nature; riding the bike was just a matter of doing the same on a different shaped vehicle. Actually he pedals a tricycle around at the daycare so, in principle, he could already put the two skills together and ride a pedal powered bike already… except that I don’t think there are any bikes small enough for such young kids. It’s doubtful he could reliably operate either a handbrake or coaster brake, so this little bike would probably have to be a fixed gear like the antique Dutch kids bikes we’ve restored. I have to admit liking the idea of building a teeny-weeny fixie, complete with mismatched wheels, top tube pad and a couple Knog lights but really, riding a balance bike until he’s three won’t exactly stunt his development.

Sometimes he goes a bit overboard and takes a spill but thus far he’s never hurt himself. Mostly he laughs and just jumps right back on. I imagine it helps to have begun developing these skills at such a young age but anyhow, I suppose a toddler who’s trying to ride skateboards he makes from Lego blocks and wheels needs a little space.

I first wrote about P1′s little scooter, balance bike and baby bakfiets half a year ago: Pascal has a bakfiets too.

More importantly, what’s keeping us busy and me in a steady stream of proud papa moments is that we’re now a family of four. P1 is now Pia’s (P2) big brother.

Here they are, snug as bugs in rugs, in the family Truckster (a.k.a. Bakfiets Cargobike). Pia’s napping in the Maxi-Cosi while Pascal no longer needs (nor wants) his toddler support seat (a Bobike Mini with its mounting equipment removed). Here they demonstrate that kid(s) can sit on the bench together with baby in Maxi-Cosi, all weather protected by the canopy. As far as I’m aware Workcycles’ Maxi-Cosi carrier is the only way to do this.

A couple weeks ago we made our annual trek to Zeppelin capitol of the world, Friedrichshafen, Germany for the Eurobike trade show. Most bike nuts would wet their pants over the idea of some 15 former zeppelin hangars full of the latest carbon fiber race wheels that weigh less than your toenail clippings, extreme downhill bikes with a meter of suspension travel, our favorite pro racers’ bikes complete with real Roubaix mud still in its nooks and crannies and more buzzwords than you can shake a stick at. I, however, am jaded by 30ish years on and off around the bicycle industry. These days I go not to ogle the latest gear but to talk to suppliers and dealers, shake some hands and meet some new people. I also like to take pictures of the dumbest stuff I see but even that’s getting difficult because it’s mostly the same dumb stuff as the past few years, maybe copied by somebody else.

I was still amused by the following little interchange: I was ending my one minute tour of the giant, enclosed Specialized stand where two attractive young women at the entrance informed me that no photos were allowed while half the visitors were voraciously snapping pictures of everything but the carpet. What they’ll do with all those pictures of last year’s silver hybrids repainted in retro colors and renamed “city bikes” I do not know. As I was approaching the same two security ladies on my way out, Alberto Contador (3-time Tour de France winner sponsored by Specialized) was on his way in. The security ladies, apparently not recognizing Contador from the 20 meter tall images of him in the very same stand, asked to see his expo ID card. Contador stood there and smiled but did or said nothing. His brother produced their ID’s from his bag and they continued along silently. I found it funny but maybe you had to be there.

Exxon Graftek 5, originally uploaded by paulmoseleyphotos.

As a teenaged bike racer and mechanic I went to the shows full of excitement to see the very latest weight-weenie wonders from names such as O.M.A.S, Pino Morrini, Speedwell, Exxon Graftek (yes, that very same evil Exxon made some of the first carbon fiber frames), Bullseye, Weyless and Hi-E. Eddy Merckx autographed a poster for me while I tried in vain to think of something to say to him. A guy at the Benotto booth wrapped handlebars with translucent “Cello-Tape” in something like five seconds per side. Phil Wood, already advanced in his years, sat at his table cutting and rolling spokes with his lovely machine. One year Castelli or another Italian firm showed up with shockingly shiny Lycra bib shorts and bibs. I was happy to trade a chafed butt and legs in black wool for looking a bit too disco.

There must have been things other than mostly Italian racing bikes and parts at these shows but I hardly noticed them. I guess Wald was there with their galvanized steel baskets and training wheels, Bendix with coaster brakes. Nishiki, Peugeot, Schwinn, Univega, Ross, Raleigh and two dozen others were omnipresent with maybe a couple real racing bikes and the rest of the display filled with caricatures of them: frames of mild steel pipe, narrow handlebars, brake lever extensions, fat counterweight pedals, stem mounted shifters, pie plates to keep the bike from committing suicide by tossing its chain into the galvanized spokes loosely holding the potato chip shaped, chromed steel rim with embossed sidewalls that maximize water holding capacity. Ironically many of these BSO’s (Bicycle Shaped Objects) are now being rescued from suburban garages and fetching small fortunes as “vintage” bikes. Actually even we found a good use for these crappy bikes back then: We dug through the semi-broken parts bins to convert dozens of them into ratty, disposable cyclocross bikes for winter training and amusement. It’s good we worked in bike shops since our “death ride” sessions through the local woods rarely ended until somebody or their bike was too broken to continue.

There were also always a few characters (sorry: “inventors”) peddling new and better ways to convert one’s muscular output into forward bicycle motion. These were (and still are) typified by a myriad of machined aluminium levers, cams and pulleys operating a web of cables, springs and short sections of bicycle chain. Since pedaling in circles is obviously unnatural and inefficient we could now row, hop, treadle or oval-pedal our way down the roads so innocently free of bicycle infrastructure. The inventors are still at it, apparently still not satisfied with pedaling a single wheel, in circles, through trusty roller chains. In the Netherlands I learned that one could make that near perfect roller chain drive nearly maintenance free simply by wrapping a plastic or vinyl chain case around it. That, of course, hasn’t stopped the development of toothed rubber belt drives.

This one seems to have been inspired by the one below that has been displayed with much fanfare and many scantily clad young women for the last several years. Since bakfiets-en-meer is a family friendly blog Richard demonstrates it here instead of the scantily clad girls.

For a nice overview on most of the weird and wacky bike stuff I saw through the years check out mountain bike pioneer Charlie Kelly’s site.

And voila! here’s the Swingbike at Eurobike, as shown on Kelly’s site. Of course even after 25 years it’s well preserved since it’s unlikely it has ever been ridden.

Now this one below was actually at Eurobike’s nerdy cousin SpeziRad last year. The inventor seems to have accepted (for now at least) that pedaling in circles is OK. Perhaps a linear drive system is his next project. However he’s unsure of whether one should ride sitting or reclining… so he’s built a bike that can be rapidly switched between both on the fly with an amazingly complex system of interconnected hydraulic linkages. Perhaps with this development recumbent bikes will finally take over the world as their proponents have been predicting since I began riding bikes. I, on the other hand, predict that recumbent riders will continue to mostly be engineers with beards and dutch engineers with long commutes through the countryside.

There was no debate, however, about the best approaches to building bike lanes in the 1970′s and 80′s in the USA; Actually I don’t think I’d heard of a bike lane until I moved to California a decade later. Helmets? We strapped leather hairnets on only when we raced and it was hip to wear a cycling cap over your hairnet, brim to the rear. I still have my shiny, patent leather (vinyl I assume) Saavedra helmet and two year old Pascal thinks it’s funny to bump into things while wearing it. Isn’t that a sort of proof in itself that helmets are bad? There were actually a few plastic helmets available by then: Bell made an enormous, white mushroom with two red stripes (had one but never wore it). ProTec made one that looked much like the current skate/multipurpose helmets, except dorkier. Skid Lid made a very creative helmet that looked kind of like a big phillips screw on your head. In 1980 or so I got an orange Brancale hardshell. It was trim and light though it probably didn’t offer much impact protection… certainly not after I bored out the many ventilation holes to about double the original size (FYI: I was 14). At Eurobike these days there’s an entire hall dedicated helmets, glasses, pads, gloves and the likes. That was handy for us since we could simply skip it. We did still see several more companies showing helmets disguised as bulbous hats in other halls though.

I’m a little unclear on these “hatmets” from Denmark. If I absolutely had to live in a place with traffic conditions dangerous enough to warrant wearing a helmet while cycling around town I wouldn’t have any problem just wearing a helmet like the other cyclists there. The same is true for going fast on a racing bike with a group. In a safe cycling place such as the Netherlands or Denmark a helmet is simply unnecessary, which makes me wonder about a Danish company’s motivation for making helmets for cycling around town. I guess it’s just a vanity thing so unfashionable people like me just can’t get it.

A decade or so later in the early 90′s I began going to Interbike while I worked for Avocet, the company that (amongst other things) got cyclists hooked on putting little computers on their bikes to monitor their performance. I was always super busy building and working the booth as well as visiting their last remaining OEM customers so these shows were just a blur. This was the golden age of mountain bike garage innovation (which Avocet steadfastly refused to accept) and try-athlons were really popular amongst moneyed, type A 30-40 plussers but I actually don’t remember seeing anything at all at these shows. I only remember talking to justifiably cranky Grant Peterson when he was at Bridgestone (now Rivendell), skeptical Sky Yeager at Bianchi (now Swobo) , and my friend Ross Shafer when Salsa had soul and rockin’ parties. The Southern California contingent showed off lots of crazy neon yellow, purple anodized, white tired, elevated chainstay mountain bikes… and my memory begins to fade about there. I guess somebody must have been making road racing bikes in the early 90′s but it has since disappeared into the ether that exists between latest-greatest and classic.

But wait, just for the sake of balance here’s a gratuitous shot of some scantily clad women promoting something at Eurobike:

And city bikes, Dutch bikes, cargobikes, utility bikes, even just comfortable bikes with fenders etc? Nope, aside from cheapo beach cruisers I don’t recall seeing any of it at all until I began visiting IFMA (Cologne) and Eurobike in Germany. Practical bikes have always been available in most northern European countries, particularly in The Netherlands and to a lesser extent in Scandinavia and Germany. The bike expos though, like most of the bike industry, are much less about practical bikes and gear than bikes as sporting goods, lifestyle accessories and just plain old stuff to sell to make money. Thus 95% of those 15 Eurobike halls is dedicated to showing off the latest recreational gear. Here and there are a few firms making bikes or parts intended for normal people to ride as transportation. Real city bikes for daily use in all weather, for carrying kids and groceries and whatever, can practically be counted on your hands. Sometimes the focus on play bikes is laughable, such as Shimano who decided to not even bother showing ANYTHING from their utility oriented Nexus and Inter lines this year. The only internally geared hub to be found in their huge stand was the new 11 speed Alfine, which is disk or rim brake only. I couldn’t find a single coaster or roller-brake in their entire stand. There was a specially marked “disk brake zone” though.

Shimano did show their new E-bike components called “STEPS”. On the bright side it’s all nicely integrated into the component set and works very smoothly and naturally (I rode it for 15 minutes). On the downside it’s not at all torquey at low speeds and some of the components (which have to be used as a complete set) aren’t suitable for the harsh, outdoor life of a city bike. No, Shimano proudly points out that this system is designed for recreational cycling.

Each year at Eurobike brings a new hype. The buzz about E-bikes has been building for the last several years but the bikes themselves have been pretty wonky. This year was absolutely the year of the E-bike, or alternatively “E-Urobike”. Not only did Shimano show off their new STOPS system, Bosch introduced their creatively named “e-Bike-system” that they claim to have invested €440,000,000 in. Panasonic and Yamaha’s already well developed crank motors were fitted to bikes offered by several manufacturers and Heinzmann and Daum in Germany each showed new systems. Of course there were also tons of hub motors from China and Taiwan mounted as unmarked, original equipment on bikes of many brands. Even Specialized proudly showed off the e-bike Fabian Cancellara used to win Paris Roubaix and the Tour of Flanders.

We spent about half a day riding various bikes with the systems most promising for Workcycles bikes. In a nutshell the motor has to offer good low-speed torque from a near stop, be durable in a rough outdoor life, and compatible with gear hubs, roller or drum brakes, a chaincase and a rear baggage or child carrier. Since most systems are intended for “play” use very little of what’s available meet even those basic requirements. Some impressions on the systems we were able to spend considerable time with:

Shimano
See above.

Bosch crank motor. Note the ISIS crank axle, meaning that fitting a chain case will require having special cranks made. No it’s not available any other way.

Bosch
We each rode a couple bikes with the new Bosch crank motor and found it good but not awe-inspiring considering the investment and hype. Probably most impressive was the well developed software which offered four different modes, each tailoring the various behavior parameters to a certain type of riding situation. Oddly enough the Sport mode was the best we’ve seen yet for load carrying since it kicked in with lots of torque from a standstill without feeling out of control. On the downside the Bosch motor was surprisingly rough and noisy and the arrogance of the reps staffing their stand was staggering. The Bosch guy I talked to basically ended our conversation when I told him that Workcycles builds just a couple thousand bikes a year.

Daum crank motor in the Urban Arrow prototype. More about the bike later.

Daum
Daum is a German manufacturer of exercise equipment who displayed a promising, new crank motor unit. Overall the feel was quite similar to the Bosch or perhaps even torquier though the software management wasn’t nearly as polished. At low speeds the reactions of the Daum were jerky and sometimes disturbing. The people at their stand took our commentary seriously though, and promised full access to tinkering with the control parameters. Daum is incidentally happy to sell either one or a thousand systems.

Panasonic crank motor in a remarkably unattractive and nonsensically spec’ed Flyer grocery getter bike.

Panasonic
Several Japanese firms have already been building e-bike crank motors for a decade and this experience was obvious in the Panasonics we rode in expensive but butt ugly Swiss Flyers. These are the first e-bikes that have ever performed well enough to make me think I could willfully ride one… though definitely NOT one of the Flyers since, like most e-bikes, they’re criminally ugly. The Panasonic motor is smooth, quiet, about as torquey and powerful as any of the 250W systems and pretty much invisible in use. You just feel very strong, like Spartacus Cancellara. Since the Flyers are built for the Swiss market they’re not governed as severely as the EU spec bikes. That doesn’t influence the pulling power but it did enable us to cruise along effortlessly on fairly upright bikes at 35km/hr. Yamaha’s crank motor is very similar to the Panasonic unit though I haven’t ridden the latest version.

So if I’m writing about e-bike motors the obvious question is whether Workcycles is going to introduce one. Yeah, good question. I’ve expressed my general dislike of both the existing models and to some extent the concept itself. On the one hand I’m absolutely in favor of anything that extends the usefulness of bicycles as practical vehicles. I’m perfectly happy to ride around in wind and weather on a bakfiets loaded up with kids and stuff but I’m not so arrogant to think or expect that everybody else is, especially if they live in a town with more elevation variation than a lot of steep, little bridges.

On the other hand the addition of a motor, a bunch of electronics and a big pack of batteries almost guarantees the end of the bicycle as a timeless, durable vehicle that can be inexpensively kept on the road for decades. When those batteries wear out or fail in a few years bike owners will discover that replacing them, often along with the battery management system, will cost as much as a decent non-electric bike. Control units will die and since there’s precious little standardization in the bike industry there will often be a slim chance of finding a replacement after a few years, never mind the question of who is going to diagnose and carry out these repairs. I can assure you that we won’t be seeing lovely old electric bikes like these still in trusty service after 70 years, or probably even ten years for that matter.

So did I see anything interesting at E-Urobike aside from the electric stuff? No, not so much. Below are a few of the pics I took with some commentary:

Urban Arrow, click image to see more photos on Flickr.

Here’s the Urban Arrow, whose bottom is shown as the example for the Daum motor. This is a new two-wheeled e-bakfiets from an(other) Amsterdam firm. The design is by Wytze van Mansum whose neato Cannondale Dutchess concept bike got lots of publicity. The partners are an experienced team who’ve previously been with Kronan and Bugaboo. I haven’t ridden it but it’s quite attractive, generally seems well considered. There’s nothing to point and laugh at, such as most of the johnny-come-lately’s in this field. I’m thinking mainly of the various 2-3-4 in one monstrosities, all marketed as the perfect solution to a transport problem parents weren’t aware of.

Urban Arrow’s expanded polypropyleen box, click image to see more photos on Flickr.

There was plenty to see on the cosmetic end of “cargobikes” though. A couple of the better examples hail from Denmark, the designer bike capitol of the world:

I think this one is called the “Handlebrack”. Crappy handling dynamics and parking instability aside it is pretty good looking.

This Pumiomega gets my vote for Most Pointless Poser Utility Bike. We have here a long bike with a not very big or usefully designed cargo rack, exposed derailleur gearing, cheap V-brakes, uncomfortable ergonomics, no fenders/lights/chainguard or even a darn bell. It’s sort of a Bilenky cargo/ Kemper Filibus mashup with all of the functionality removed and built with a single aluminium tube to leave it’s rider wondering when the inevitable catastrophic failure into two halves will occur. Fortunately few children will get hurt since it’d take somewhat more creativity to install a child seat than the typical buyer will possess.

A really expensive, techno-pizza bike

A couple Workcycles employees would jizz in their pants if they saw this spread of Phil Wood goodies. Yep, that the same Phil Wood as described above. Sadly Phil, who genuinely enriched cycling with several handy innovations (sealed hubs and pedals, cartridge bottom brackets…) passed away earlier this year.

And I think that’s enough words and pictures for one post so I’ll leave you to contemplate the following:

Last night I loaded our freshly refinished (in RAL 2004 “pure orange”) dinner table into one of our big, classic rental bakfietsen in order to bring it home. This morning I was then faced with the dilemma of how to both return the bakfiets to the shop AND bring Pascal to his “creche” (daycare center), both about a kilometer or two from home. Do I dare let an almost two year old sit in the 190 x 85cm box untethered, unhelmeted, unpadded, unrollcaged…? After some deliberation with Mama-en-meer we decided that it should be OK, particularly since Pascal has logged enough thousands of cycling kilometers to not have much urge to do anything stupid and terrible-twos-toddler-like. Besides, we figured, the bakfiets has a top speed of about 10km/hr and everybody (even taxis!) gives it a nice, wiiiiiiide berth.


The old table I just painted orange.

So upon arriving at street level instead of Pascal climbing into mama’s cargobike or being lifted onto papa’s Workcycles Fr8 he was propped into the back of the bak, tucked between the moving blankets and my courier bag. I released the parking brake between my legs and rolled off the curb, still curious whether child would just stay where I put him or insist upon “exploring” the nearly two meters of mahogany playground in front of him. I’m happy to report that we figured correctly; Pascal was perfectly happy to sit back near me, feet out front, calling out the “autos”, “cheeps”, “big ships”, “monononos”, “bicipas” and “tjams” as we rode. We got a few approving smiles and no disapproving looks that I could see. Isn’t it unfortunate few kids outside of the Netherlands can have such experiences?

We always go on this bike now?