I find myself in a quandary. I've had this dilemma for a few years now. It's a thorny one, with which I've found myself wrestling on the bike, on foot, in cafes and bars, or anywhere else bike traffic is visible. This dilemma bears on a sensitive idea; one we frequently debate at the shop but have barely touched in the blog: style.

I will not be pretending an ability to render any sort of objective judgment on bicycle or sartorial elegance in this post, nor will I project my own values onto the simpler question I'll address here. You won't hear me tell you to wear “fashionable-three-quarter-length-pants” and certainly nothing so tired as to stop wearing neon helmet covers (even if I try to avoid them). I won't be debating the stylistic merits – or demerits, depending on your point of view – of colored tires, matching fenders, or ground effect lighting, or telling you to wear jeans on your training ride. Use equipment that works well for what you're doing, and wear what you want to wear.

The basic intersection of style and bicycles has little to do with whether you prefer denim or tweed or linen, and even less to do with what you choose to ride. The crux lies in how your riding influences your style. However you choose to express yourself through your appearance – be it clothing, accessories, hair, or makeup – that expression must necessarily extend to the hours you spend on your bicycle, and if you're reading this blog those hours are likely not few. How do you let your chosen appearance change when you ride? If you commute, do you change your clothes to do so, or do you wear your normal clothing? By extension, do you feel that you look like yourself while you ride, or do you feel like a bike person? How do you feel about that? The answers to these questions can come in many forms, and will be dictated by everything from meteorology and physiology to geography and demography. In fact, what you actually wear matters much less than how you feel about it. Comfort and aesthetics are different for everyone, but the more it rains the more important it becomes to like your raingear.

Back out on the street it's easy to see who's comfortable and who's not. Not the cyclist passing by who wore the clothes most appropriate for the weather, but the one that knows they look good. Whatever “good” may actually mean for that particular rider, it's pretty obvious when someone hasn't compromised their style to ride their bike, or at least feels at home in what they've chosen to wear. Conversely, it's quite painful to see someone living on their bike who obviously doesn't enjoy what they've ended up wearing. There seems to be an industry-wide assumption that when we swing a leg over a top tube we don't get to look like anybody except “bike guy.” Whether you're dressing like a Boeing supercommuter, a couture model, or a (hardcourt bike polo) Guardian, I'm a fan of choices. Anyone that has been able to see past an industry that tells them to wear a uniform is being a vitally important kind of cycling advocate- they're showing everyone one less sacrifice that must be made to ride a bike. When you roll out happy about how you look, you show each person standing on the sidewalk next to their car that they can do the same.

At last this brings me back to my quandary. I feel quite strongly about this subject, to the point that I would love to dispense heartfelt praise and excited high-fives to more than a few strangers on the street. Despite my utter sincerity, our culture isn't very comfortable – especially in Seattle – with that sort of behavior, and honestly there have been awkward moments. I'd love to be able to tell someone that I think they're doing a great job making cycling look stylistically accessible, but I haven't found a way to express it quickly and clearly enough to avoid uncomfortable misunderstandings. Since I really don't want to be “that guy,” can we come up with a nice shorthand for “Hey-I-think-you're-doing-a-great-job-making-cycling-look-good-and-no-I'm-not-being-sarcastic-or-hitting-on-you”? Or maybe a hand signal?  A little help here would be greatly appreciated.

I’ll admit it.  I’m a little jealous that Seattle gets a Snowpocalypse before Chicago does.  I take pride in my city’s brutal winters.  So now that Seattle has had its fun it’s finally Chicago’s turn to play in the snow.  And while Fritz may happily snip zip ties off his bike now that things are back to normal over there I’ve got three inches of snow on the ground and more on the way.  In a matter of days the plows will shove all the snow in the valuable lanes of pavement I like to ride in, and soon after that all that snow will be compacted into something far more slippery than snow.  So, sure, Seattle gets “battered” once or twice every year, but what about real winter? 

What about many sub zero days, lots of scorching cold winds, the possibility of frost bite, snow, ice, more snow, more ice, and the inevitable lake effect misery that is the reality for all us crazy Midwestern winter riders?  What good is a bike commute if every time I swerve to avoid a collapsed catch basin or perilous pot hole, I lose traction and end up a pile of painful person underneath my bike?   Anyone who has attempted to ride down the lakeshore path will know what it’s like to see the sheen of a vast expanse of ice ahead.  When I was younger and I rode my 1977 Trek TX550 through such conditions, I just barreled through and braced for what I knew was going to be a couple of very uncomfortable moments.  But that was back when I trusted my patellae wouldn’t shatter upon impact, before I had any sort of thoughts that some injuries are more than just annoying to walk away from and some pain is too great to ignore. 

Anyway, what do we do about the dangers of an entire winter of ice and snow?

The Answer is studded tires.

These are the Schwalbe Marathon Winters I like to use.  (and that’s Chris in the background)

These things are great.  Greater, I might argue, than the zip tie snow chains.  And I might argue this because, well, I’m a bit too classy to be uglifying my stately Dutch bike with silly little zip ties.  (Kudos to you, Fritz, for choosing such a bright and safe color for your snow chains.  Safety first!) Seriously though, if you plan on riding through an entire winter, the studs will save you just when you need saving.

Remember when Fritz boasted of his uncanny placement of the zip ties so that they bit into the ice while cornering?  That’s the whole idea behind the placement of the carbide studs in the Schwalbe Marathon Winters.  The studs are arranged so that when running at full pressure your tires will primarily be making contact with the road right in the middle, on the rubber.  When you start cornering, the studs will do their job.  Of course, when the roads do get totally nasty, and the ice and hard pack snow is everywhere, you might just want to lower the pressure and let the carbide studs do their thing all the time.  With the increases contact area of a soft tire, the studs give you way more traction. 

With 240 metal studs on 700cc tire I feel secure on my ride no matter what I roll over, I’ll keep my wheels underneath me.   They also have the Schwalbe standard reflective strip on the side wall which makes me feel not only bijster (very) European but also bijster visible. 

It’s true. You will sound like a swarm of bees when pedaling along dry clean pavement.  But the advantage when you need it is well worth the noise.  And when you arrive to work, or the bar, or back home again all in one piece, everyone will be very happy to see you.  

We’ve got the tires in stock now, and we’ll get just about any size you need.  Heck, I’ll even put them on free of charge.  That’s how much I care about your safety.

SNOWPOCALYPSE!

No matter how much we swear we've learned our lessons, Seattle always seems to get caught by surprise by the snow. There we were, minding our own business with our feet all toasty in our sandals and socks, when the temperature plummeted and it turned into Juneau in January. While this year the City did a much better job than last year at preventing widespread carnage and destruction, we at Dutch Bike Seattle still didn't bring in studded tires because it never snows in Seattle. Even if we had stocked them, I'm not sure they'd sell because it never snows in Seattle, right?

We found something else, though. Something else entirely.

You're not going to believe it at first.

It's quick, it's cheap, and yes, it looks completely ludicrous.

BUT. It works. It works beautifully.

I can accelerate, brake, and corner with aplomb, even on the vile snowpack/sheet ice mix the plows leave in the bike lanes. The zip ties dig nicely into the hardest packed surfaces, but they're thin enough not to bounce the bike around at low speed or on short pavement sections.

I've cunningly positioned the tie heads to dig in as soon as the bike goes into a corner while staying up and off the ground in a straight line. This is the place that the ties are most likely to interfere with the fenders, so if you're installing these yourself be careful to make sure you have or can create the clearance.

It is at this point that I must admit that I didn't dream up this amazing technique. It pains me to admit this not because my ego suffers, but because the zip-tie-DIY-bicycle-snow-chains idea appears to have originated with my favorite bicycle industry whipping boy: fixed gear hipster culture. Several years ago, I'm sure, some bright child with extremely tight pants and an asymmetrical haircut had a genius-caliber idea, and I hate that it wasn't me. So here it is: Fixed gear street bike hipster guys, I'm sorry for the things I've said over the years. It's not true that the only drink you like is 4Loko. It's also not true that you're not allowed to wear shoes that don't match your bikes. You can wear whatever you want. And finally, you have come up with a good idea besides brightly colored deep-section rims.

Fall is here!  Which means, for those of us living here in Seattle, rain.  A lot of rain.  Driving rain.  Endless driving rain.  I’m pretty sure that last November it actually rained every day.  However, any experienced Northwestern cyclist can tell you that the best way to combat the crushing depression of the winter months (other than maybe buying a SAD lamp) is to keep riding your bike!  And what this means, is fenders. 

There are many different types of fenders.  Because I insist on riding completely impractical bikes, my only option are the clip on, or “fairly ineffective,” type of fenders.

These fenders are convenient because they simply clip on to the seat stays and fork blades of the bike, and don't need any eyelets or mounting hardware.  They’re inconvenient because they don’t really work very well, and as a result my bike is always dirty

and my feet are always wet and sad.

So, despite the more involved mounting process, full fenders are a better option.  They provide much greater coverage, which is great for your bike because it keeps it clean, prolonging the life of your components, and great for you because it keeps you more dry, prolonging the life of your ride.  A great example of full fenders are the ones that Fritz has on his bike.  Look at that clean bike!

And look at those happy feet!

“But wait!” you might say.  “I ride a racy road bike! I don’t have room for fenders! Or eyelets!”  Not to worry!  Both Fritz and myself have extensive experience putting together custom fenders to fit on even the most race-oriented carbon fiber speed machine.  There are several ways we can do this, but our most common method is to actually fabricate some mounts out of rack struts (thin, rectangular pieces of steel) and use these to clear the tight spaces in between the tires and brake calipers.  In the case of bikes without eyelets, we can use different types of clamps to keep the fender stays attached to the frame.

So why wait! Get some fenders! Keep your feet dry!

We've carried bikes from Linus for more than six months now, and in that time we've sent a surprising number of the little guys and gals out into the world in both Chicago and Seattle. It's been a pleasure to see them locked to bike racks downtown in the Loop , rolling down the Burke Gilman, and hanging from the chain link outside bars on Capitol Hill in Seattle. I've seen them used for commuters, bar bikes, kid haulers, and “couples' cycling incentives.” Just as Linus riders seem to have discovered the versatility of the design, we've had a great time expanding the capabilities of the bikes themselves. Here are a pair of the projects Alex and I have set up with some of the bikes. We've had a huge amount of fun thinking up ways to keep the Linus style undiluted while adding function and some new ways to ride!  If you cold winter riders are  looking to set up your Linus, Chicago Schwinn or  Raleigh with a similar light set-up ask us about the Schwalbe studded tires for winter riding.  

Classic headlight, classic tire generator, classic Roadster 3, and a nice warm yellow halogen beam.

Live on the top of a monster hill? The SRAM i-Motion 9 hub nearly triples the gear range of this Dutchi.

Dream it up and your Linus can probably do it.

Just thought everyone might like to know what happens when Dutch Bike Chicago heads over to Dutch Bike Seattle. Watch until the end to see who forms the head.  Who is that guy?

We've been repairing, maintaining, and upgrading all types of bikes here at Dutch Bike since day one, because while we love the somewhat exotic (here in the US, at least) mechanical aspects of the bikes we import, one of our core beliefs is that the best bike is the bike that you ride, whatever it is. Whether we're installing custom fenders on your 90's Bianchi racer or overhauling your 1976 Schwinn cruiser, we love keeping bikes on the road.

Particularly in the past two or three years, I've seen a massive upswing in the numbers of bikes being brought out of storage, bought used, or restored for everyday use. All types of reasons – economic, practical, or ethical – bring these faithful steeds back into harness, but my favorite of all is that it just seems to have become cool. With increasing numbers of bicycles on the road – many of them seeing their second tour of duty – every shop is seeing an increase in repair traffic and, more relevantly, more people are becoming acquainted with the world of bike repair.

For many, getting a bike repaired can be even more intimidating than “taking the car in.” I will be the first to admit that bicycle service shops do not have a stellar reputation for friendliness or customer service, and even though a bike is less complex than a car it can still be an opaque and mysterious opponent when it's not working properly. For these very good reasons, a large number of my service customers don't come to the shop for anything as specific as wheel truing or derailleur hanger alignment, but rather for a general tune-up. It might be every few hundred miles or every few years, depending on where and how you ride, how your bike is designed, and how it's stored and cared for. Whether your mechanic calls it a “tune-up” or a “general service” or a “maintenance package,” the basic idea is the same: make my bike work so I can keep riding it. You drop your tired, creaky steed at the shop, and a day or two later you pick it up shiny and ready for another ride. What actually happens to the bike, though?

As you've seen in previous posts, I enjoy few things more than deflating the fear and mystery around the technical side of bicycles, and so today we'll walk through exactly what goes on during a tune-up. Different tune-ups will include a variety of different operations (wheel truing, adjustment, part replacement, etc.), and different shops will provide a sometimes bewildering variety of options and levels of detail. The tune-up you'll see here is our “Comprehensive,” usually best for older bikes or commuters with medium to high mileage. If the bike requires less I'll suggest a less in-depth “Standard” or “Basic,” or simply perform a few adjustments a la carte.

First, I'll remove the wheels to make cleaning the bike easier and because I'll be working on them individually later. I'll spray and wipe down the frame and components with a weak cleaning solution (I like Simple Green), because it's much more pleasant to work on a clean bike.

Now for the wheels: cleaning first, then truing and balancing spoke tension.

Next I'll open the hubs to check the bearings and inject fresh grease. When I put them back together, I'll be sure to adjust them so that they'll spin smoothly when they're installed.

Back on the bike, I'll do the same to the headset and bottom bracket bearings if they can be serviced. Before I reinstall the wheels, I'll sand and pick debris out of the brake pads for stronger and quieter braking.

Now that the pads are clean and grippy, I'll adjust the pad position and spring tension of the brakes so they'll work powerfully, quietly, and drag-free.

With the brakes “dialed,” I'll move on to the derailleurs; adjusting the cable tension and limit screws, and the position of the derailleurs themselves to optimize the speed, smoothness, and above all the accuracy of each gear change.

Finally, I'll check the tire inflation and take the bike for a test ride to make sure everything is working perfectly!

As you can see, there's no mystery and no magic here, but the proper tune-up should have your bike riding like new – or at least close to it – and keep you going for plenty of rides. Having your bike tuned may not be the most glamorous, but the cumulative positive effects of a smoothly functioning bike can be far-reaching!

Padraic Swanton of Chicago's Lincoln Park Chamber of Commerce sent Stephan these questions in anticipation of publishing a story about the Dutch Bike Co. in The Source summer 2010 edition.

LPCC:  How long has Dutch Bike Co. been in business? Personally, how long have you been working for them?

SS [StephanSchier]:  Dutch Bike Co was founded in Seattle by David Schmidt in the spring of 2007.  I became involved as a partner in October of 2007.  We decided during the Summer of 2008 to open a Chicago store and I moved to Chicago in September 2008.  We opened for business a few weeks later in the middle of October. I am now back in Seattle.

LPCC:  What sets you apart from your competition in Chicago or across the country?

SS:  Right from the start we decided we were going to become the Dutch bike experts – so we import ourselves, directly from Holland and focus on classic utility bikes – the bikes most typical to Amsterdam residents.  Many of us live an everyday bicycling lifestyle, so we understand the needs of families and individuals who might never consider themselves “cyclists” in the sporting sense of the word, but want to ride a bike.  We were the first to set up multiple locations (including warehousing bikes in NY) so that we could serve customers across the nation, and we have customers from coast to coast.  We specialized in shipping fully assembled bikes all over the USA – typically getting to our customers in less than a week.  We also have an online store at which people can purchase bikes and accessories.

Q: I need a bike.  What should I be looking for?

You should look for a bike that is comfortable and meets your goals and  needs.  Are you training or are you commuting; do you want to shop or carry children; will you ride in inclement weather or at night?  Answers to these questions will inform the types of bikes and accessories we would recommend.  From there it's a question of how much money would you like to spend.  We would always recommend buying the highest quality bike you can afford..  Our best WorkCycles bikes will last you a lifetime.

LPCC:  What’s the most common question clients ask you?

SS:  Because of our Dutch bikes' size and heft: “Aren't these hard to ride up hills?”  In Chicago (unlike Seattle) hills are not much of an issue, but our most popular WorkCycles all have the smoothest shifting, 8-speed internally geared hubs which will get most anyone (if they take their time) up most any hill.

LPCC:  Why Chicago?

SS:  Mayor Daley and the high level of cycling advocacy going on in Chicago was and continues to be a big attraction. The hundreds of miles existing bike lanes.  The flat topography and neighborhood oriented lifestyle create a perfect climate for incorporating cycling into our everyday lives.  In example, in Lincoln Park everything is within ten minutes by bike, from Trader Joes, to Whole Foods, to the gym, to the lake, to the post office and bank – there is little need for a car.

LPCC:  How has your company changed over the years? Have you seen changes in the LPCC or the Chicago community?

SS:  We grew quickly, took some early risks (coming to Chicago) and we've consolidated (closing our NY warehouse during the economic downturn) and now we are more cautiously moving our original shop to a new location in Seattle's historic Ballard Ave district which will include a cafe. Chicago continues to be an anchor.  We are happy to have survived a rough period in which it seemed there were far too many empty storefronts in our Lincoln Park neighborhood.

Q:  What are today’s trends in your business?  

SS:  Cycling fashions that look like everyday clothes.  More practical everyday bikes for non-”cyclists”, that come equipped with baskets, racks, fenders and chain guards.  Cargo bikes (which we love), electric assisted bikes and more specialized (and expensive and trendy) bikes for sports and recreation from cyclocross, to downhill, to bmx, to fixed-gear.  Cycling is more hip across a wide range of ages, occupations and lifestyles.  Visit progressive Portland Oregon for a day and you will see the signs of the revolution.

LPCC:   What do you look forward to most on a day-to-day basis?

SS:  In Chicago, a grinning new customer riding away on their new bike.  Seeing customers riding through the neighborhood taking their kids to school, shopping or going to work.  Knowing that a bike can greatly improve the quality of someones life.  In Seattle, I look forward to sunshine.

LPCC:  What’s one thing you’d like everyone to know about Dutch Bike Co. or yourself?

SS:  More than just being technical experts on Dutch and other bikes used for transportation and cargo, we  live with bikes as our primary means of transportation.  We love our bikes, but more importantly, we strive to love our city lives.  Our beautiful and practical Dutch bikes support our view of an urban American utopia, where public transportation, pedestrians and cycle-friendly neighborhoods are king.

Q:  Anything you’d like to add about your experience with the LPCC?

SS:  Thank you for being advocates for our business and those of our peers in the Lincoln Park community.

...So once again we spring-less Chicagoans have skipped right through from winter into summer, and as the temperatures jump from frigid to boiling, we find ourselves in season for beautiful weekends and wonderful bike rides.  As Memorial Day draws near, I look forward not only to channeling my inner Dade County fashion sense and releasing my vast assortment of white linen clothing onto the bike lanes and pathways of Chicago (not really), but also to the amazing event that is Bike the Drive.  

We want to see every Chicagoland Dutch Bike riding down Lake Shore Drive this Sunday.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve got an heirloom omafiets or a brand new Workcycles Transport.  If you ride like the Dutch, you should ride with us.  Is your bike less “Holland” and more “anywhere else?”  Don’t worry, we won’t discriminate.  Come ride with us too.  It’ll be fun.   If you are coming down from the North Side, up from the South Side, or in from the West Side, feel free to meet up at Dutch Bike Co. for some coffee and morning sundries.  I’ll be in the shop around 5:00am listening to some James Brown and getting properly caffeinated.  We’ll head out for the ride at 6:00am. We’ll cruise down to the ride start in Classic Dutch Style with a Bakfiets full of supplies.  So please join Will, the Brehmen brothers and myself for a great ride.  Just go to www.bikethedrive.org for all the information and registration.  Or come by the shop and pick up a coupon for discounted registration.

Need to rent a bike for Bike The Drive?  Give us a call at 312-265-0175 and we’ll set you up with special pricing for the big ride on Sunday.  Pick it up on Saturday night before we close up or come by on Sunday morning.  So let me know if you need a bike.  And call me if you want some more info on where to meet. 

Hope to see you there,

Vince

Dutch Bike Co.
651 W Armitage Ave
Chicago IL 60614

It's been almost a year since I built and started flogging the strange hybrid beast that we named the Saison (a saison is a Belgian farmhouse beer style whose wild yeast strains produce a light body but strong earthy flavor).  The idea was to build a bike that could balance the toughness and "fuhgeddaboutit" maintenance interval of one of the Dutch bikes with the speed and acceleration of a modern American commuter.  Strong wheels, a strong frame, internally geared drivetrain, disc brakes, full fenders, and a comfortable riding position were required.  Add a few little extra touches for comfort (carbon bar and 28c Tserv tires) and style (gold Nokon brake housing and gold grips), and I was ready to go.

The Frame
Predictably, I couldn't let myself simply order a frame designed to do exactly what I intended for it (they exist).  Instead, I decided to use the wrong-est frame to build this multi-speed city bike: a single-speed mountain bike.  The Surly 1x1.  And yes, I am perfectly aware of the abject silliness of this premise.  That said, measure the actual radius of a 26" wheel with tire, and a 700c wheel with tire, and you'll find a surprisingly small difference.  Measure the wheel/tire clearance of a 1x1 and you'll run out of measuring tape; you could lose a medium-sized child in the depths of that gigantic rear triangle.  Even with tires half again the size there would be plenty of room for nice beefy fenders, too.
 


With tough steel tubes, convenient horizontal dropouts, and easily adjustable brake caliper mounts, the Surly would have been a fair bet even if it weren't super cheap.  And deep down, who doesn't want to ride "the thing that should not be"?

The Build
Lace up a wheelset: light-ish rims made for 29'er mountainbikes on a Shimano Alfine hub (the stealth-bomber version of the eight-speed hubs in our Workcycles bikes) and a mostly-matchy front hub, and slap them into the frame.



Throw on the rest of the parts.  Get a different crankset because the chainstays are so wide that the arms of the compact road crank I'd planned on using wouldn't even come close to clearing...wow.  Bend the fender stays and install spacers to clear the brake calipers.  Install lights on the brake bosses because they're just sitting there doing nothing.  Install the KitchenAid headbadge because this is supposed to be an appliance, right?

The Ride
The first impression of the ride is the quickness: even though it's a big bike with a wide bar, it feels very nimble and responsive.  You just point your shoulders and the bike zips that way.  It's difficult to sufficiently emphasize the nimble feel of the bike and the resulting confidence: the handling is so intuitive that maneuvers that would be nerve-wracking on a more conventional bike just happen naturally and with little fanfare.  The wheels and frame are highly rigid, and even with relatively big tires and the flex of the carbon handlebar the ride isn't Dutchbike-smooth, but it's not punishing.



The Alfine hub and shifter snap off quick, positive gear changes with almost no lag or interruption of power transfer.  The disc brakes (Avid BB7 calipers and Shimano XTR levers) offer a surfeit of power and smooth enough modulation to keep it under control, although after putting in the miles on our roller brake-equipped city bikes they feel surprisingly aggressive. 

The Year
Now, after a year of riding around Seattle, up and down stairs, through alleys, around parks and pump tracks, through street brawls and farmer's markets, and over every nasty piece of pavement and road debris I could find, I can actually evaluate the bike.  It has commuted, gone on dates, shopped, and pubcrawled.  It's been taken on countless test rides, and borrowed for extended periods.  Through it all the Saison has required very little of its rider in terms of either maintenance or even basic consideration.  After a few adjustments for break-in, the mechanical systems have functioned as close to flawlessly as any bike I've ridden.  A little chain lube every few weeks, and the occasional stack of batteries for the cheap blinky lights I can't seem to get around to replacing with a sexy generator setup.  It's not quite as impossibly maintenance-free as a Workcycles bike, but it's not too far off.

I can explain the experience of living with this bike best by calling it "enough."  It's tough enough that even through the year of abuse I've barely had to think about it, while remaining light enough to accelerate and climb with pizazz.  It's fast enough to really feel fast, and -- most important of all -- fun enough that I consistently want to ride it.  The best bike is, after all, the one that you ride.

Want one?
With a somewhat less extravagant component selection, you can have one for right around $1700.  We're custom building each one of these for the time being, so even though you're dodging the challenging "experimentation phase" of a project like this you can still have plenty of input on the specifics of your Saison.  An albatross bar, a Brooks B67 saddle and 38mm wide tires for a more "Dutch" feel?  A narrow cut-down riser bar and racy tires for tackling traffic?  A Workcycles Transport-style front cargo carrier?
No problem.  Have a tall, chilly glass of Saison.