There’s something adorably disreputable about the small basement annex of the Handlebar, a bicycle-themed watering hole in Wicker Park. With a wooden bench running along a rough masonry wall and an Art Nouveau poster of a girl on a bike, the “revolution room” seems tailor-made for the hatching of idealistic schemes.
It’s no wonder, then, that a recent frigid night found it full of revolutionaries. The people attending the inaugural meeting of the Chicagoland Folding Bike Society want to change the world not through barricades or marches but through technology. By promoting the use of bikes that can be folded into compact, totable bundles, they hope to strike a blow against the tyranny of car culture.
“Folding bikes are so good at encouraging people to live `car free’ or `car light,'” said organizer Bob Matter. Later, he added, “I’m coming on my first anniversary [of living without a car] on Feb. 7. I just got a folding bike this winter, and it was like an epiphany.”
His zeal was echoed by the others in the room, most of whom, like him, were bespectacled, male and aged somewhere upwards of 45. Steve Weeks, a dentist who commutes downtown from Mundelein, suggested that the unusual sight of a folding bike might prompt motorists to question their car use. Jerry Enenstein, a research consultant in Evanston, told how he’d once smuggled a folding bike into the Sears Tower.
“I had a friend who worked for Sears when it was still in the [tower],” he said. “I took my folding bike up there and biked around the 50th floor.”
A burst of popularity
It might seem strange that a group of cycling hobbyists should have such a subversive side. Ever since folding bikes debuted in the early ’80s, their main users have been travelers in motor homes.
That’s not what you’d call an edgy demographic.
Recently, though, improvements in the bikes’ design and lower prices have led to a burst of popularity. Dahon, one of the few manufacturers, saw sales jump in by about a third in 2003. The company sold 90,000 bikes during the first half of the year, compared with 65,000 during the same period in 2002.
“Folders” are particularly hot among space-deprived New Yorkers and gizmo-happy San Franciscans, according to Dahon manager Pete Mole.
Because they can be collapsed in about 60 seconds and taken on buses and trains, folding bikes are particularly useful for commuters. In Chicago, that makes them political. Thanks to advocacy groups such as Critical Mass and Transportation Alternatives, car-free commuting has become a cause celebre for many Chicago cyclists.
In fact, on the same night folding-bike aficionados were hatching schemes downstairs in the Handlebar, upstairs a group of people huddled around a table to plan this year’s Critical Mass art show. In addition to setting up the folding-bike group, Matter himself also is busy planning Chicago’s third annual bike film festival, to be held sometime in March.
For Matter, folding bikes are a magic bullet in the battle against auto culture, the innovation that will finally persuade waffling car owners to throw in their keys. Others in the new group take a more moderate view of their potential.
“I think people who are really committed to a `less car’ as opposed to `carless’ society are more interested in them,” Enenstein said. “[These] people would not forswear cars completely but would say, `I want to be a little more green, a little more environment-friendly.'”
“Folders” can bridge the gaps in Chicago’s transit network, enabling a commuter to make part of his journey by train or bus, then cycle to his final destination. Although the CTA allows bikes on trains, and most buses have bike racks, standard bikes are banned from the “L” during rush hour. Metra trains don’t allow them at all. Folding bikes, however, are allowed on both systems at any time.
“What’s nice about my folding-bike habit is that it pays for itself,” Weeks said. “Every day I ride it, I save $3 [in bus fares.]”
The geek element
Alas, the one stumbling block to a flourishing new community of “less car” folding-bike riders is the appearance of the bikes themselves. With their long, spindly front posts and tiny wheels, they look kind of dorky.
“There’s a lot of social pressure,” said Chris Stodder, co-owner of a Wicker Park bike shop. “You don’t want to be weird when you ride your folding bike to work.”
By banding together, the members of the CFBS hope to belie the notion that there’s something weird about their bikes. As the meeting at the Handlebar drew to a close, they still hadn’t determined the best way to do this.
They may turn up in one of the city’s parades, as Weeks suggested, stopping every block to show the crowds how their bikes collapse. They may act on another suggestion, and offer free rides at bike shows and other gatherings. Or they may just ride off into the sunset.
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The Chicagoland Folding Bike Society’s next meeting is scheduled for 7 p.m. March 10 at the Handlebar, 2311 W. North Ave. For more information, contact organizer Bob Matter at rjmatter@prodigy.net or visit www.geocities.com/rjmatter/.
