The bicycle has been evolved—a mechanism, propelled solely by human power, capable of quadrupling the distance traversable by the pedestrian.

The simple, light, and almost universally accepted machine is constructed to stand a strain tremendous in proportion to its weight; for the modern machine weighs only twenty pounds, and it may be lighter, though for some purposes it should be heavier. The bicyclist is virtually mounted on a set of casters, which propels the weight with much greater ease than can be attained in the act of walking. In walking, advantage is taken of the force of gravity by continually falling forward, and simultaneously placing the feet, with a regular motion, one beyond the other, to alternately receive the weight of the body. On the bicycle, the weight is carried and supported, and the wheels reduce friction to a minimum.

The wheel being set in motion, power is applied to overcome inertia, and speed is increased by multiplying the number of the wheel’s revolutions; the application of the gyroscope principle assists materially, and the resistance of gravity is overcome in a degree while the wheels are rapidly revolving.

To set a bicycle in motion requires the expenditure of considerable power. A given rate of speed on the level may be maintained by a minimum expenditure of power. Bodies or masses set in motion maintain their velocity undiminished unless other forces intervene. The bicycle in motion is resisted on the level by air pressure and friction, on the roadway by friction, and by the incidental obstacles of the road. On an ascending plane, it must overcome the additional resistance of its own and its rider’s weight, which must be lifted constantly; on a descending plane, it must oppose a constantly lessening resistance. All this resistance and lack of resistance means a proportionate stress laid upon the bicycle, the wheels of which are all the while kept rapidly revolving, the large wheels moving much faster than the cranks and pedals.

Each separate part of a bicycle must be made capable of withstanding a certain wear and strain, and must perform its own particular duties and work in conjunction with all other parts of the machine. To this end, it has been studied, perfected, tested; its weight and tensile strength calculated to a nicety; its finish and adjustment made matters of deep thought and careful investigation.

Only the best can be made to do in bicycle manufacture; each piece of metal must be separately tested, and the maximum of strength with the minimum of weight must be attained. What is known as the safety factor enters largely into the construction of the modern bicycle; that is, the machine is made much stronger than is necessary for the strain it is expected to withstand; this added strength involving of course the added weight of the material which supplies it. The calculated strength of a machine is the strength which fits it adequately to perform its work. When, as in the bicycle, the accurate testing by skilled workmen proves the existence of this degree of strength, the safety factor meanwhile being reduced to the lowest possible limit, the product is the perfected result of the highest degree of skill. Each part is tested for so many pounds strain or tension or compression, and each strain is accurately figured for each particular part; each part, moreover, must be able to stand so much additional strain, more than it is ever likely to have thrown upon it, though no bicycle is built to withstand the shock of collision under speed. In case of collision, the older, heavy bicycle was not smashed into fragments, as is the modern twenty-pounder. Something would give way, perhaps; it might break in several places. The light modern wheel holds together or is crushed to pieces, though its rider is less likely to suffer serious injury, the lighter construction having less power to do damage than the cumbrous wheel of fifty or sixty pounds weight.

The cost of a well-made bicycle, of perfect workmanship and finish, represents the amount of skilled labor required to construct it rather than the value of the raw material, although, when it is remembered that each part must be tough, hard, strong and elastic, it will be apparent that only the best of material can be used.

Wheels can be made at a very low cost; but such wheels cannot be correctly adjusted and tested without the additional cost of skilled labor. For the production of a perfect bicycle, the machine of tested strength, simplicity of detail, and beauty of finish, the most accurate workmanship as well as the best material is necessary. A machine or a tool should always be the best of its kind, and it pays to take care of it. A bicycle requires as nice and accurate adjustment as a watch, and like a watch, with regular attention afterwards, will run steadily and smoothly. A bicycle, moreover, as much or more than a watch, is individual property, and each individual wants the best.

Our physical powers have been tested in certain directions; in walking, for instance, we know what we can do, how far we can go, how much it is wise to attempt. The bicycle appeals to us as a means of swift locomotion attained without other force than our own powers four or five times multiplied by mechanical processes. The bicycle enables one to do, to prove one’s powers; it puts one in conceit with one’s self. When one is not a pedestrian, does not care for equestrian pleasures—and, indeed, in the majority of cases, there is little to compel attention to these means of recreation—the bicycle offers the opportunity to find the limit of one’s powers in a new field. It supplies, too, a new pleasure—the pleasure of going where one wills, because one wills. The attention has only to be directed, and the wheel, responsive to touch or thought, moves in unison with the rider’s will, flitting hither and thither, that he may enjoy the freshness of nature and the ever-changing beauty of clouds and sky, of sunshine and shadow, of meadow and sea, lake and river, mountain and forest.

Riding the wheel, our own powers are revealed to us, a new sense is seemingly created. The unobserving are gradually awakened, and the keen observer is thrilled with quick and rare delight. The system is invigorated, the spirit is refreshed, the mind, freed from care, swept of dusty cobwebs, is filled with new and beautiful impressions. You have conquered a new world, and exultingly you take possession of it.

Travelling by vehicle or by any public conveyance, the sense of individual responsibility is reduced to the minimum; it is indeed no appreciable factor. You pay so much to be taken up and set down, so much for a reasonable amount of safety, comfort, and convenience. Mounted on a wheel, you feel at once the keenest sense of responsibility. You are there to do as you will within reasonable limits; you are continually being called upon to judge and to determine points that before have not needed your consideration, and consequently you become alert, active, quick-sighted, and keenly alive as well to the rights of others as to what is due yourself. You are responsible to yourself for yourself; you are responsible to the public for yourself; and you are responsible to the public for the rights of others. The upholding of laws and ordinances, the general welfare, public health and safety—problems never before, perhaps, called to your attention—come up one by one for consideration. In short, individual duty, recognition of the rights of others, consideration of means for the proper enforcing of laws, all are suggested to the awakening mind of the bicyclist. The bicycle is an educational factor, subtle and far-reaching, creating the desire for progress, the preference for what is better, the striving for the best, broadening the intelligence and intensifying love of home and country. For all that is beautiful is ours—ours to protect and to cherish.

To the many who earnestly wish to be actively at work in the world, the opportunity has come; they need but to come face to face with it to solve this problem of something to conquer, something to achieve.