Dutch Bike: Impressions After an Absence

I own a 15 year old Gazelle A-Touren that is pretty much the prototypical Dutch bike. It was my main city bike for a while, until I put it in storage last November. Yesterday I retrieved the Gazelle (I am looking to sell it edited to add: I have now sold this bicycle), dusted it off, and rode it for the first time in 4 months. The nice thing about riding a very distinct type of bicycle after a long absence, is that everything about it seems new again and you notice aspects of the ride quality that didn't stand out when the bike was familiar. So I wanted to take this opportunity to write up my impressions of Dutch bike handling - from the altered perspective of someone who's now also ridden a variety of other bicycles. 

My first impression of the Gazelle upon our reunion had to do with the riding position. I forgot that it was even possible to be sitting that upright on a bicycle! I consider my other 3-speed and my mixte to be upright bikes as well, but they are certainly not compared to the Gazelle. The rider's position on this bike is akin to sitting in a chair: back straight, shoulders relaxed, hands holding the bars in much the same manner as one would hold an open newspaper or a tray. 

The handlebars are dramatically swept back and very close to the body. There is no feeling of reaching at all - my hands just basically rest on the bars naturally if I simply plop them down, bent at the elbows. This also means that there is very little weight being placed on the handlebars, or on the front end of the bike at all for that matter.

The unweighted front end was a sensation that took getting used to after an absence. However, it was really just a matter of training my body to adjust to it. After circling the block a few times and picking up speed, the handling already began to feel intuitive again. With the handlebars way behind the font hub, this is not a super-responsive bicycle. There is almost a feeling of passivity or detachment in riding it, like being in the back seat of a vehicle instead of the driver's seat. 

These factors combined are what's responsible for the "regal" feeling associated with riding a Dutch bike. The effortlessness, the perfect posture, the ability to observe one's surroundings in a way that cannot be done on other bikes - it all encourages a relaxed and confident attitude. The wide 28" tires create a plush ride quality that further contributes to the luxurious feel. The nuisance of potholes and rough road surfaces need not trouble the rider. As I rode the Gazelle around the neighborhood, it felt as if I were sailing aboard a luxury liner more than riding a bike. I had completely forgotten that sensation. 

Of course another thing I'd forgotten was the weight of the bike. At just under 50lb, the Gazelle is an armful to drag up and down even a small set of stairs on a regular basis. Having now gotten used to my "heavy" city bikes being a good 15-20lb lighter, I admit I did not welcome the extra weight.

The bike's weight however, does not pose a problem when the Gazelle is in motion. It accelerates easily and retains momentum extremely well. On flats I can fairly quickly get it to 17mph+ in the high gear, which is about as fast as I'd want to go in the city anyhow. 

Uphill is of course a different story, though it's not quite as bad as you might think just by looking at the bike. Uphill the Gazelle is slow, but responsive to hard pedaling effort. Unlike some other heavy city bikes, it does not attempt to pull me back, but is willing to advance slowly forward and upward as long as I am willing to push. 

Having had the bike out of sight for so long, it was also nice to see its lovely little details again. Being of mid-90s production, the bike is not exactly "vintage," but still the details were more nuanced on these older models than they are today. Examining all the intricate, albeit now rusty, little embellishments on it is a pleasure. The bike was well used before I got my hands on it, and spent a great portion of its life outdoors as I understand it. In light of that history, the extent to which its functionality and aesthetics have been preserved is impressive. 

While I love and respect the Gazelle, for my current transportation needs I've come to prefer a more active ride and a slightly more aggressive posture. Still, the positive qualities of this bicycle are hard to beat. 

The Dutch bike is an excellent choice for a cyclist who wants to be as upright and relaxed as possible, enjoys a plush ride, prefers to do little to no maintenance on their bicycle even in winter, lives in a fairly flat environment, and is undaunted by weight. It will also appeal to those who love vintage elegance: The basic design of the Dutch bike has gone largely unchanged over the past century and remains an icon of transportation cycling.

Bleak Prognosis for the Dutch Bicycle?

While I can't say I did not see it coming, it was nonetheless a surprise to spot one of the latest offerings from Trek at Interbike.

Meet the Trek Cocoa: a "Dutch-inspired" 3-speed. Loop frame, chaincase, dressguards, vintage-style graphics and even - believe it or not, some lugwork (despite the allegedly aluminum frame?).

Here is an Interbike anecdote for you: Upon seeing Trek's Dutch bike, I naturally wanted to examine it carefully: to feel the weight, to move it to a location that would make it easier to photograph, maybe even to test ride it. But the bike was locked up to a display stand, so I asked a representative in the booth about it. He looked confused, as if I'd brought him some weird bike he'd never seen before and wants nothing to do with. "I don't really know anything about this," he said, "but let me see if I can get someone who does." I waited, but no one came, and so I ended up photographing it as it was, then moving on. It made me imagine that perhaps there were these warring fractions at Trek, with one adamant on designing European-inspired city bikes and the other disgusted by the idea and insisting that all resources be focused on Madones. Who knows what goes on behind the scenes over there, but the bottom line is that a Trek Dutch bike now exists.

If you are waiting for me to tear this bicycle apart, I will have to disappoint you. While I have not test-ridden it, visually and structurally it is not bad. The frame is partially lugged and the welded bits are not as horrendous as on other bikes I've seen. Though the frame size is smaller than typical for a Dutch bike  and the wheels are 26", the proportions - from the thickness of the tubing to the curve of the looped top tube - come across as convincing. The graphics are attractive. There is no lighting, but perhaps they will add that as an option once the bike goes into production.

While the Cocoa is not an authentic classic Dutch bicycle as far as geometry goes, it is much nicer than I what I'd expected Trek to produce in this genre - especially after their take on the French mixte. I look forward to a test ride in 2012.

At this point you may be wondering about the bleak title of this post. Well, in order to explain it, I ask you first to have a good look at the above photo. Then turn your attention to the photo below:

Do you see much of a difference? Because you are now looking at the latest model from the Dutch bike manufacturer Gazelle - namely, at a rather crudely welded unicrown fork. Seeing this at Interbike, it made complete sense as the finishing touch after a number of other changes Gazelle has undergone over the past few years, such as switching to welded chainstays and loop connector. Given that Batavus underwent the same changes a few years earlier, it seems that what used to be known as the two major Dutch bicycle manufacturers are essentially no longer differentiated from bikes mass-produced in Chinese factories by the likes of Trek and Republic - which is not surprising, because as of several years ago they are being produced in the same Chinese factories. While I am sure the geometry is different - at least for now - I see less and less of a distinction in construction and quality between the big name Dutch bikes and their imitators.

All this is to say, that the idea of the Dutch bike as it was first introduced to the North American market - as a timeless design, lovingly hand-made by specialists who'd been producing it in the exact same way for generations - is quickly becoming a marketing myth. The only manufacturer I can think of who still makes Dutch bikes entirely in that manner is Achielle, and they are based in Belgium. Correct me if I am wrong, reassure me, give me examples - I am open to it. But having seen the latest offerings at Interbike, I can hardly feel optimistic. If the likes of the Trek Cocoa ride decently, I don't really see a reason why an American consumer would want the more expensive Gazelle - the difference in quality is rapidly disappearing.

All About the Looks

As recounted in previous posts, I am frequently approached by strangers who are drawn to my loop frame bicycles. It is not a matter of how expensive the bicycle is, and it is not a matter of whether the bike is new and shiny or old and crusty. But something about that elegant curve - combined with the dress guards, chaincase, and wide cream tires - seems to make these bicycles visually irresistible. Most of the time it is women who approach me, and most of the time they are not cyclists. Their attraction to my bicycle is purely a matter of looks. Upon learning that I actually ride for transportation, the ladies will typically enumerate all the reasons why they can't possibly ride a bike - all the while staring at mine with a longing that I can tell is normally reserved for jewelry store window shopping.

Having gone through this type of interaction more times than I can count, I cannot help but believe that aesthetic attraction alone can make people want to ride a bike, or at least try. And while that motive has been mocked by some, I personally find it fascinating. Just think about what this means: The natural beauty of the classic transportation bicycle is so powerful, that it can make even those who are not interested in cycling wish to do it.

Although my reasons for cycling were never based on looks per se, looks certainly played a role in pushing me over the edge from an ambivalent "it would be nice, but..." attitude, to the enthusiasm that led to the start of this blog. The Co-Habitant and I had talked about getting bikes for a couple of years, but when it came down to it I just could not imagine myself riding. Then one day, I spotted this bike in the neighbourhood and suddenly I could imagine it perfectly well. The design of the bicycle suggested that cycling could be done in a way that is easy, safe, and not in the least bit sports-oriented. While initially the extent of our cycling ambitions was to ride on the trails together on weekends, my growing fascination with the bicycle led to the research that made us view it as a viable option for transportation. And although this was never, ever our intent, two years later we stopped using our car entirely.

While I am not suggesting that every woman who thinks my bicycle is pretty is likely to follow the same course, I do believe that looks are important. And it is not so much a matter of beauty, as it is a matter of engaging the imagination - of the person being able to picture themselves riding the bike. There are multitudes of people out there who do not cycle, because they do not view it as something that is "for them." Setting eyes on a bicycle that appeals to them could change that in a matter of moments.