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Articles
Radio Times articles, from 2003-2005

Escape-proof???
Sounds Familiar
The Hounding of the Royals 
Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells?
The Mystery of the Stones
Going Loco
Troy
Pedal Power
Dentures
Obesity
Genius Sperm
Ultimation
Sandals, Slaughter and Sex
Greased Lightning
Flying Saucers
Aztecs
Venus
The Stuarts
The Ascent of Man
Test-tube Tantrums
RT Mastermind
Medical Marvels
Engineering Triumphs
Eccentricity
Surreal Estate
Offshore Wind Farms
Nothing to Loos
Groovy
A Bridge Too Far
Flogging a Dead Horse
Worst Jobs
Asteroid Alert
Eureka Years
Crash
Inspired
The Man Who Missed Dinosaurs
The Sagger-maker's Bottom-knocker
The Master
Naming Nature
Albert Einstein
Environmental Scariness
Geronimo!
Ancient Plastic Surgery
The Ancients
Gold in Them Thar Banks and Braes
Animal Magnetism
Egyptians
Technophilia
HIGNFY
Panem et Circenses
Tambora
That Spotty Old Sun
Telling Stories
Beethoven's Hair
A Blind Eye
Comets
Medrocks

Other articles

Thomas Crapper  
Thunder, Flush and Thomas Crapper, 1997
The birth of the bike 
Eureekaaargh!, 1999
Romans were streets ahead 
Daily Telegraph, November 2000
The Pioneers who Invented Progress 
Daily Telegraph, August 2001
A tough mistake
Chemistry Review, September 2001
At home and school in 1952 
The Times, June 2002
Newton and the rotten apple 
Daily Telegraph, 11 September 2002
World Toilet Day
Daily Telegraph, 19 November 2004

 

 

      

The birth of the bike

The history of the bicycle is shrouded in confusion, which is curious, since it is such a simple and useful form of transport. The notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci contain a rough sketch of a bicycle, but it looks suspiciously like a modern bike, and there is some reason to believe the sketch was added to the original notebooks within the last century or so.

Horse-drawn carriages were used by the Romans. Ox-carts were routinely used for transport during the middle ages. William Murdoch built a tricycle to ride to school in the 1760s. Steam-carriages came into use in the early 1800s, and by the 1830s railways were snaking across the country. How is it possible that no one had by then invented the bicycle, a far simpler machine?

The first bicycles  

In 1817 Karl von Drais patented the hobby horse - a bench balanced on two wheels. You sat astride it and pushed along on the ground with your feet. This enjoyed a brief popularity in the 1920s, when everyone who was anyone had to have one.

The next giant leap forward was a leap in the imagination, to grasp the idea that it might be possible to balance on two wheels without keeping both feet on the ground! As far as we know, this was first put into practice in 1839 by a Scottish blacksmith, Kirkpatrick MacMillan, at Courthill Smithy about 14 miles north of Dumfries.

MacMillan’s bicycle had a massive wooden frame and wooden wheels like cartwheels, bound with iron tyres. The front wheel was steered using handlebars, more or less as on a modern bike. But the propulsion system was weird: from the cranks on the back wheel treadles came forward to hang either side of the front wheel. You put your feet on the treadles, and pushed forward with alternate feet. Steering was tricky because the treadles prevented the front wheel from turning more that about 20 degrees.

Apparently the original machine weighed half a hundredweight  (25 kg), and MacMillan frequently rode the 14 miles into Dumfries in less than an hour.

An article in the Glasgow Argus of 1842 said that a gentleman of Dumfriesshire had ridden 40 miles from Old Cumnock to Glasgow - in five hours - and there in a crowd of spectators had mounted the pavement and knocked over a small child. Luckily the child was unhurt and the gentleman was fined only five shillings.

Later development

In the 1860s pedal-driven bicycles were made by Michaux in Paris ; they were called boneshakers or velocipedes, depending on whether you were impressed more by their painfulness or by their speed. The ‘ordinary’, high bicycle, or penny-farthing came along about 1870. This was a sensible development. Drive to those early bikes was by pedals attached directly to the front wheel. There were no gears, and usually no brakes; you slowed down by back-pedalling. Assuming that there is a natural rate of pedalling (‘cadence’), the speed of a bicycle with direct drive depends on the size of the driving wheel; with a front wheel six feet across you could go three times as fast as with one two feet across.

There were considerable disadvantages. Getting on to a high bicycle is tricky - I know; I have done it. You need either a mounting block as used for getting on to a horse or a good deal of courage and skill to push forward, put one foot on the foot-rest low down, and then vault into the saddle as the bike moves off. Riding also is nerve-racking, since you are perched about six feet off the ground.

Once going, the high bicycle is more stable than a modern bike, because the huge front wheel produces lots of rotational inertia - like a flywheel which once spinning is extremely hard to twist. I am told you can ride hands off the handlebars at 2 m.p.h. However, if you hit a serious bump or pothole you go straight over the front wheel and land on your face from a great height; many cyclists were injured this way. Even getting off is an acquired skill. Partly because is was so terrifying, and partly because it was so fast, the high bicycle was tremendously popular with young men in the 1870s and 80s. Its demise started quite suddenly in 1889.

Pneumatic tyres

The credit for inventing the pneumatic tyre usually goes to John Boyd Dunlop, the Scottish vet. The Dunlops were living in Belfast , where young Johnny complained that on his tricycle the cobbled streets made his bottom sore. His dad thought he could smooth the ride with a cushion of air; so he got hold of a thin rubber tube, glued the ends together with rubber solution, stuck in a valve from a football, and so made Johnny an inner tube. To fasten it on the wooden wheel, he nailed strips of canvas – or strips torn from one of his wife’s old dresses - over the tube and around the rim.

The reason the pneumatic tyre works so well is that the air cushion in effect irons out the little bumps in the road. When a solid wheel goes over a stone, the whole wheel and therefore the whole bike is thrown into the air, which is uncomfortable for the rider and also wastes energy. When the pneumatic tyre goes over the same stone, the tyre squashes a bit but doesn’t rise. So you hardly feel a jolt, and although some energy is lost - and goes to heat the air inside the tube – compressing the air loses much less energy than is necessary to lift the bike and rider off the ground.

Dunlop’s tyres turned out to be not only comfortable but also fast; he persuaded leading local cyclist Willie Hume to use them for an important race at the Queen’s College playing fields on 18 May 1889 . When Hume turned up not on a high bicycle but on a safety, and fitted with the silly new tyres, everyone laughed at him. But they stopped laughing when Hume won the race. Then everyone else wanted pneumatic tyres too - and in due course the Dunlop Rubber Company was formed.

However, Dunlop’s were not the first pneumatic tyres, because 43 years earlier, in 1845, another Scot, Robert William Thomson of Stonehaven, had taken out a patent for ‘the application of elastic bearings round the tires of the wheels of carriages for the purpose of lessening the power required to draw the carriages, rendering their motion easier, and diminishing the noise they make when in motion.’ Thomson made his pneumatic tyre from a hollow belt of canvas, saturated on both sides with india rubber or gutta percha and cased in leather, and bolted it to the rim of the wheel. He inflated the tyres with air through a pipe ‘fitted with an air-tight screw cap.’ There is no mention of a valve; so the process of inflating the tyres must have been tricky.

The bicycle had scarcely been invented, and the motor car was far in the future; so Thomson’s tyre was designed for carriages. Thomson wrote ‘the comparatively small amount of power required to propel carriages, the wheels of which are fitted with these belts, the steadiness of the motion, the absence of all jolting and consequent security of the machinery from injury, the small damage the carriages will do to the roads, the absence of nearly all noise, the high speed that may be safely attained, and the great gentleness of the motion, will, I think, enable steam carriages to be run on common roads with great advantage...’

Most vehicles then had solid tyres, generally made of iron shrunk on to wooden wheels. In 1847 Thomson proved that these were inefficient, with a series of tests in London ’s Regents Park . He took two horse-drawn carriages, fitted one with his elastic bearings, and compared their performance over two different types of road.

The first thing that everyone noticed was that the carriage fitted with his tyres was silent, whereas iron tyres always made a loud grinding scrunching noise as they rolled along. His carriage caused quite a stir among the crowds in the park; The Mechanics Magazine concluded: ‘Despite the opinion most people would form...that the draught [i.e. the force needed to pull the carriage] must be greatly increased, (it) is unquestionably much lessened. The tyres are perfectly elastic as well as soft. They do not retard the carriage - they yield to every obstacle, permit the carriage to pass over it without rising up, and expanding as they pass from the obstruction, return the force borrowed for a moment to compress the tyre.’

Thomson found in his tests that the force needed to pull the brougham was 60 per cent more for the solid tyres than the aerial wheels on the macadamized (smooth) road, and three times as much on the rough road! Perhaps his elastic bearings would have been a commercial success had the bicycle been invented earlier, but sadly for Thomson they were ahead of their time.

This article has been developed from Adam Hart-Davis’s book Eurekaaargh!, about inventions that nearly worked.

Eurekaargh, 1999

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Page last updated: Friday, 22 July 2005 22:35