The Bicycle Has A Great Past Ahead
of It!
An Interview With Brian Gravestock by Noel Black (originally
published in
Newspeak!, a Colorado Springs monthly)
Editor's Note: Brian Gravestock,
owner of the former Brian's Bicycle Repair shop in Colorado Springs,
is a friend of mine and a treasure trove of wisdom. This
interview, done by the publisher of Newspeak!, a Colorado
Springs monthly, has a lot of content that applies to our mission here
at Wheels Of Change. In the interest of coherence, we've
published the interview in its entirety; however, we've emphasized the
more philosophical sections with a boldface font. Much of
the following interview is technical in nature and, while interesting,
is not particularly fun for people who aren't cyclists. Enjoy!
Brian Gravestock is as much medicine
man as he is mechanic. A bicycle to him is a magical instrument
capable of compressing and expanding time— work of art and political
tool as much as it is a means of transportation.
A native of Cripple Creek, he started
riding seriously at 13-years old when a VISTA volunteer invited him
along on a 50-mile ride in Pueblo. He rode his Schwinn Stingray and
made it. "It was difficult, but it was exhilarating."
He was hooked and the bicycle became
both a means to and a way of life. Though he dabbled in professional
cycling, he became a mechanic and he's been at it for over 30 years.
If you've ever been to his shop
underneath the Colorado Avenue bridge in the old grain elevator with
the bike on top and the wood-burning stove inside, then you've
certainly encountered his cantankerous wisdom (peppered with plenty of
"henceforths"!) whether you wanted to or not. There are no "cheap
bikes" in Brian's world, and you have to be willing to listen—even if
you just want a tube changed.
I spoke to Brian at length about what
matters—magically, politically and technically—about bicycles.
Newspeak: So you got really into bikes at age 13. What was it that
grabbed you?
Brian Gravestock: I had already become
sensitized to environmental issues at that time in my life [during the
Vietnam war]. Paul Ehrlich had just written The Population Bomb and I
realized there were issues related to population growth we were all
going to have to deal with. Cycling seemed to be the answer to all the
questioning I was doing at that time because it's relatively clean, it
doesn't have negative political connections that cars have, and it
liberated me from having to be so economically successful. I didn't
want to prioritize my economic status at that time in my life. I was
more interested in having more experiences. And cycling allowed me to
have my mobility without having to pay the price of being steadily
employed to be able to afford cars and insurance. I enjoyed the health
benefits, and I found that it gave me ample time for thought and
consideration. Cycling is just a win-win situation. I think there are
many things we can be involved in our lives that cause us to have to
quiet our conscience. And certainly by driving at all you're saying,
"I'm willing to accept a certain amount of impact." Cars are noisy and
they're probably the most dangerous things that are in our everyday
world. Even inadvertently you can endanger pedestrians, other drivers
and cyclists. You're definitely polluting when you drive a car—it's
definitely putting out poisonous gas every inch of the way. And also,
our very need for gas causes us to support regimes that are unsavory
and possibly damaging to the long-term health of our democracy. So I
equate the use of cars with the acceptance of war, acceptance of
oppressive regimes that operate in these countries, acceptance of a
repressive regime that operates in our country, and it's all fueled by
cars. People tell you to vote, but I would say that the most important
vote you can make is with your feet. If you can stop driving and start
riding a bike, that action will speak louder to the powers that be
than any other thing that you could do or say (certainly more than
anything you could do in the voting booth). I'm not saying you
shouldn't go to the voting booth and do you job there, but probably
the more important job is where you spend your money. And if you spend
it on bicycles … there's an old Indian proverb: If there are two dogs
in a fight, one symbolizing good and one symbolizing evil and someone
asks which one will win, and the elder says, "The dog that you feed."
So you want to be careful which dog you feed. Riding bicycles enables
you to channel your dollars in a better direction.
NS: Tell me more about your bicycling
youth?
BG: As I got interested in bikes, I
started discovering this magic—that a bicycle could suspend time and
distance; it's an absolutely magical machine. And all of a sudden I
realized I could ride 50 miles or a hundred miles and that I could
explore and that I didn't need any money. This was tremendously
liberating, and it was magical to me. So, after having experienced our
school system, which in my mind is kind of related to prison. It's
definitely conditioning for corporate America; you have to respond to
bells and your willingness to do compulsory tasks is probably what
makes you the most successful there. To me, those things seemed more
of an advantage to people who want to employ you later than it is to
yourself. I was just really fed up, and the bicycle was a wonderful
counterpoint to that where I could go out and experience freedom. So
as I started doing that, I realized I was better at it than just about
anyone that I knew. So that kind of led me to racing and I raced for a
long time, and not particularly successfully. But I enjoyed the
experience. Keep in mind that this was all road racing because it was
in the 1970s and there were no mountain bikes available until 1982,
which is when they started becoming commercially available. But the
racing kind of led me into being a mechanic because I started working
on my own bike both because I could and because it was a lot less
expensive and I had an aptitude for it.
NS: I've often heard you say the
phrase, "The bicycle has a great past ahead of it." What do you mean
by that?
BG: Well, a lot of people get caught up
in needing the newest and latest and most current technology. And,
really, most of the great advances in bicycles were made back in the
late 1800s and early 1900s. Actually, very little of the technology
that's around today has much of an impact on the performance of the
bicycle. And much of it adds extra mechanical complexity and that
equals extra maintenance, less reliability and, to some degree, a
planned obsolescence. In other words, you'll be replacing expensive
components on a bicycle sooner if it's more complex. Also, the lighter
a bicycle becomes, the shorter an interval of time it will last. So
there are a lot of value decisions you can put into buying a bicycle,
or not. Many people shop for a bicycle using only their ego to make
their decisions. They're interested not only in what is good, but what
is perceived as prestigious and perceived as high-performance by their
peers. And what influences our generation the most? Marketing. Even if
we have some suspicion about it, we tend to fall prey to it anyway.
Consequently, many of the young people I know who've bought a bicycle
in the past few years have opted, for instance, for suspension and
disc brakes despite being warned about extra maintenance and extra
expenses in ownership and a limited life expectancy of the bike
altogether. So it's interesting why we can't make a decision to buy
something more basic that's designed to have an unlimited lifespan,
lower maintenance and user cost and no planned obsolescence. I think
it's marketing that's doing that. I'll be curious to see if that trend
can be reversed in the face global warming and the sketchy connection
between human rights violations and abuse of the environment with
products made overseas. Consider the idea that if you buy something
that's made by people who are essentially slaves overseas, are you
becoming a slave owner? I think that you definitely are. Now with the
growing ecological implications of the status quo—which is that we
work ourselves to death and, in the process, kill the environment—is
it really wise to buy something that doesn't stand the test of time?
It may be trendy and high performance, but you'll have to replace it
in 10 years if you're lucky. Or would it make more sense to support a
craftsman in your community and build a relationship and enjoy all the
benefits of that along with the absolute unlimited lifespan of the
bike given proper choices? It just makes more sense.
NS: So what were the innovations of
bicycle manufacturing when it did reach its peak? And what are those
proper choices for a good bike?
BG: The bike hasn't been improved much
since the 1920s. They're not much lighter. They definitely don't last
any longer. Generally speaking, you can't go much faster on them.
Certainly you can point out the extremes. Someone who's only concerned
with going downhill on a bicycle is going to go a little bit faster on
a suspension bike. So if you want a bike that you have to be
petrochemically addicted to using—in other words it has to be hauled
uphill in a car or truck or chairlift and then you just ride it
downhill only—then you're not going to accept what I have to say
anyway because you've already accepted the petrochemical addiction
part of the sport. But if we're talking about cycling where you ride
up the hills, clearly you don't get as much advantage out of
suspension as you would think: extra weight and extra mechanical
complexity doesn't really buy you much performance on the uphill. In
fact, in my experience, the people riding the simplest bikes will
actually climb at a faster rate than people riding the more complex
bikes. So riders on a full-suspension bike might wait 60 seconds at
the bottom of a descent for someone on a simple bike while riders on a
one-speed will wait for 5 and 10 minutes for riders on a
full-suspension bike at the top on an ascent. Everyone has his or her
choices to make. I'd like to make a couple connections if can.
NS: Sure.
BG: The first thing is reparability. If
you buy an aluminum frame, it won't take as many stress cycles and if
it cracks and has to be repaired then it has to be heat treated to
regain its strength. So, generally speaking, we don't consider an
aluminum bike to be one that will stand the test of time. A steel bike
frame can take an unlimited number of stress cycles and can last a
very long time. A lifetime guarantee used to be a normal thing. But
that's largely been phased out. So steel bike can be repaired with
relatively primitive technology. Even a forge could be used to repair
a steel bike. Braising, welding—all of it can be used on steel … patch
mending. So it can be repaired indefinitely.
NS: What are the qualities of steel
that make it such a good material for bikes?
BG: Well if you look at all the springs
you've ever seen in your life, they're all made out of steel. The
reason why that's true is because steel is springy. You'll never see
springs made from aluminum. And it's the springy quality of steel that
makes a steel bike fun to ride. And if you ride down the road on a
springy bike it'll be a nice ride. A bike frame needs to have adequate
stiffness to transmit your pedaling energy into forward motion, but if
it flexes in the process that's not necessarily considered a loss of
energy unless it doesn't return to its normal position. In other
words, if it's acting like a spring that's returning energy to you, it
can actually be quite efficient. On the other hand, if you're riding
on a bike that's very rigid you'll actually tire more easily because
you'll fatigue more easily. So, to make a long story short: too rigid
of a bike will wear you out, too soft a bike will waste your energy.
But steel tends to have the best overall qualities of providing a high
performance pleasant ride that's efficient, being repairable with
primitive enough technology that allows you to support a craftsman
instead of a factory, and also not terribly hard on the environment to
manufacture. The smelting of steel all the way to manufacturing a
bicycle frame isn't as toxic and doesn't require as much energy as
aluminum or titanium, both of which use quite a large amount of
electricity to manufacture.
NS: What about carbon fiber?
BG: I'm not very knowledgeable about
carbon fiber, but it can offer a ride that's comparable to steel at a
lighter weight, but with reduced longevity. And it's the province of
high-tech manufacturing. So, once again, you're probably not
supporting a craftsman in your community; you're likely supporting a
corporation.
NS: So what all were the technological
innovations that were around in the 1920s when you feel the bike
reached its peak?
BG: Certainly modern drive trains. Ten
speed cassettes and wide-range gearing systems can be an advantage for
a facet of the cycling market, but most people's use of a bicycle
revolves around the experience they have while riding. And I meet many
people who find the added complexity of a multi-geared drive train to
be a detriment to their pleasure and experience of riding the bicycle.
Henceforth, there's been a major movement back toward one-speed
bicycles right now where people have begun to question all that and
the necessity of it and whether it adds to the experience of getting
from point A to point B.
NS: Like getting off your bicycle every
once-in-a-while might not be the worst thing in the world?
BG: Right. Exactly. And when you do
climb uphill on a one-speed, you do go a little bit quicker and you do
have to put some extra effort into it, but usually it's for a shorter
duration of time. So in terms of perceived energy expense, you'll
perceive the energy to be higher on a geared bicycle. So this thing of
perceived energy output is very important. If you do something you
really enjoy doing, an hour could seem like nothing. But if you're
doing something you don't enjoy, it could seem like an hour even if it
was only a few minutes. So cycling can be one of those magical
experiences that actually suspend time and distance. You could ride
all the way to Pueblo and it might seem like you were hardly on the
bike at all. Those magical things are precious in our lives, I think.
So how can you mess it up? Putting a computer on your bike is the
first way to mess it up because you've tried to replace your
experience with hard, cold information. And hard, cold information
often robs the magic from the experience and it's simply not necessary
in most cases. There can be a case made for serious athletes wanting
hard data about their performance on a day-to-day basis, but that's
not the average person. I also think that if you say to yourself,
"Well, Lance Armstrong rides this particular kind of bicycle, so
that's what I want to ride because I want to give myself every
advantage," well, Lance Armstrong has mechanics who take care of his
bikes on a daily basis, he has an unlimited supply of components and
frames available to him, he's absolutely not constrained by cost,
reliability, maintenance or any other factor besides performance. And
what I find is that many people who buy these machines end up being
dismayed by the maintenance costs and by the frequency of replacement.
So to me, once again, it's not really about the hard data; it's about
your experience. And if your experience is enriched by having a
relatively simple machine with low maintenance costs and a
relationship with a craftsman then buying a custom-made frame locally
has many advantages.
NS: Talk about wheels if you would.
There's a lot of fuss about the size of wheels these days.
BG: The wheel issue was settled pretty
early on in about the 1880s. Thousands of bicycle manufacturers around
the world settled on the 700c wheel as being the optimal size. If you
make a wheel bigger, it can be more flexible and supple, but it can
also get heavier. So you want to watch out for "if a little bit is
good, then a lot is better" because it's easy to say that if a 26"
wheel is better than a 20" wheel, then maybe we'll make a 36" wheel.
Well a 36" wheel gets too heavy, so there's kind of a balance point
right around 700c. They actually called them 28" wheels back at the
turn of the century. And that was settled on because there were no
paved roads; most of the roads were either dirt or cobble and they
were very rugged and there were a lot of ruts because of the horse and
wagon, and the 28" wheel had the best characteristics for those kinds
of conditions, much like what we need now for mountain bike riding. We
have paved roads now so we can ride very efficient, skinny-tired
wheels. But still, we tend to favor the 700c wheel even for that. And
it turns out that a 700c wheel is also optimal for anyone over 5'8" on
a mountain bike also. And the reason for that is that it's a softer
riding wheel; it has more flexible and shock absorbent
characteristics. And the larger the diameter of a wheel, the easier it
will roll over a given obstacle. Like you can roll a small marble up
to a ledge and it'll stop it, but roll a marble twice the size and
it'll roll right over it. The larger the circumference of the wheel,
the easier it'll roll over something like a curb. So a bigger wheel
makes bumps feel smaller. And if you put a mountain bike tire on a
700c wheel, it becomes a 29-inch wheel, which is why mountain bikes
with those wheels are often referred to as 29ers. So this brings us to
a perceptual thing. On a 26" wheel, suspension is extremely desirable
because they're pretty unyielding and pretty rigid and pretty strong.
But a 29" wheel can be ridden without suspension and feel quite
acceptable. So we're going to go back now to things like reliability.
26" wheels pinch flat very commonly on mountain bikes. 29" wheels very
rarely get pinch flats and it's common for people to run extremely low
pressure on them. I know many riders that ride as little as 20 lbs. of
air in their 29" wheels and do so without pinch flatting.
NS: And that takes up a lot of the
shock?
BG: Yeah, this helps absorb the shock
and vibration and makes it possible to ride without suspension, which
eliminates a lot of maintenance and expense from the bicycle. And
again, a modern suspension fork has a life expectancy of maybe 10
years if it's cared for and maintained. But many of them don't last
that long. So a rigid fork with a 29" wheel—you could ride it for the
rest of your life and never have to replace the fork. That's an
advantage from my perspective. And I'm trying to think about not
creating waste in the world, not filling up the landfills with planned
obsolescence, not buying products from countries that use slave labor
and don't have environmental standards. You can eliminate some of that
by having a simpler bike and sourcing it locally.
NS: Let's talk about fixed-gear bikes
because they're really trendy right now. What's their history as
street bikes? And … well, I know you have some strong opinions about
them.
BG: Well, fixed gear bikes were the
original high-performance bikes. They're defined as bikes on which you
cannot coast. In other words, if the wheels are rolling, the pedals
are moving—there's no coasting option. So it requires a greater degree
of skill to manage a bike like that in city traffic where you have a
lot of stop and go. And it is, theoretically, possible to resist the
forward progress of the pedals with your legs and use your legs as a
brake of the bike. However, that's a fairly unreliable way to stop in
an emergency situation. Probably the most controversial thing about
riding a fixed gear is the use of a brake, or not. In my view, just
using your legs to stop is simply not adequate and I have a lot of
experience riding fixed gear. And I would tell you it's absolutely
essential to have a front brake to ride safely in the city because if
somebody opens a car door or turns left on you or a cat runs out from
under a car, you might not be able to stop even with two brakes, and
certainly not very well with none.
NS: So why don't track bikes have
brakes?
BG: Well, track bikes are ridden in a
controlled environment on an oval bicycle tracks called velodromes
with banked corners where it's simply not necessary to stop suddenly
and no one else is allowed to ride a bike that has brakes on the
velodrome. So no one can stop suddenly and it allows the bike to be
even lighter. And it's possible to enjoy that because of the extreme
smooth surface and the absolute freedom from the need for sudden
stoppage. You still might wreck, but the incidence of that is reduced
compared to riding on the street.
NS: So why do you think riding
fixed-gear bikes on the streets evolved, particularly among bike
messengers?
BG: Legitimately, and this goes back to
riding one-speeds also, it's a technique-over-technology type of
experience. It's much like a person who prefers fly fishing over bass
fishing with sonar and scented baits and things like that; you're
trying reduce the amount of technology and increase the amount of
technique and pleasure, henceforth, from the experience. For instance,
the experience of riding up a hill on a one-speed or a fixed-gear bike
is much more satisfying than on a multi-geared bike where you gear
down and just sit in the saddle and spin. You have a finer,
more-satisfying experience stomping up the hill, and it's how you end
up feeling that's the most important aspect of cycling to most people.
For me, I had a lot of fear about that when I started riding
single-speed bikes—that it was going to be too hard. And I'd go out
and I would work hard and I'd struggle. But then if I went back and
rode the same ride on my geared bike, I found that my experience was
that I worked even harder. So I lost my fear of riding single-speeds
and realized that no matter what bike you ride, you're going to
struggle and suffer on hills. So you might as well do it in a way that
makes you feel good.
NS: And what about why fixed-gears
became street bikes?
BG: I think it's another case where
people began reducing the technology and got seduced by it. And then
maybe they wanted to have even more of a purist experience. That can
be true, but it's easy to go too far with the "if a little is good,
then a lot more will be better" thinking. By all means, if you're
riding a fixed-gear bike with brakes, you can slow down and stop
without using the brakes, and you have that option and you can have
that experience. But if you do need to stop, then you have the option
of actually stopping the bike. I don't see that there's any downside
except a small amount of weight. It seems like a logical precaution.
NS: So how do you think we're going to
solve our problems with the world looking so grim these days?
BG: I like to encourage self-reliance
in young people I meet—to develop the skills and to become
self-reliant. Self-reliance in our lives is going to be one of the big
issues of our time. In other words, how much do you want to suck at
the tit of the man?
NS: Self-reliance, or community
reliance?
BG: Community reliance is, in a lot of
ways, equivalent to self-reliance. For instance, you publish and
newspaper and I want to be heard. You can do something for me and I
can help you with a bike. This is what makes life wonderful. The
American model that says that if I want to do woodworking then I have
to own every woodworking tool, independently, myself—I have to
reduplicate all those facilities in order to do anything. That's
simply a dead-end. What we need to do is to rediscover community and
community reliance like you're saying where we have relationships with
people who build bicycle frames and relationships with farmers who
supply us with food. We have things that we can give and that we can
do and we exchange those for things that we need and that we want.
NS: Yeah, it's egotism to think that
you can do it all. Total self-reliance is fascinating.
BG: Yeah, this independence that has
been encouraged in us and has been promoted through a lot of
manipulation over a long time is very real to us, but it's not a
necessity. There are other ways; there are humbler ways. So I really
think the bicycle can be this fine too to self-discovery. For
instance, if it catches in your craw that you might have to go to work
for corporate America or support things in this world that you know
are unwise, cycling can offer you a way to not do it. |