Date:  2022-11-29
Time:  03:34:47 UTC
Title: Behind my Strida Mark I, or how I learned to love the triangle of death
After rambling on a bit about my recent cycling adventures in Cincinnati, I
thought I owed you all readers a little more background about the incredibly
strange bike I rode there. 

The bike itself, like these rides, was found in Cincinnati, back during the
later waves of the pandemic, in November 2021. I noticed a Facebook Marketplace
ad for a Strida Mark I folding bike for only $40. I was a little bit familiar
with the Strida at that point, but more as a curiosity than as anything
practical. A weird, triangular, single-speed folding bike? What could this do
that my Dahon Speed and Huffy Touriste couldn't already? Nonetheless, I went
ahead and scheduled a meeting with the seller, with the plan to fix up the bike
and sell it for a hefty profit, having noted its prices on eBay and elsewhere
(well over $300).

I got incredibly lucky as the first person to meet out a list of at least 20
buyers. It turned out that the seller was an industrial design professor at the
University of Cincinnati (UC) College of Design, Architecture, Art, and
Planning (DAAP). From the moment I met him I caught his enthusiasm about this
industrial design marvel, much as I would from the British inventor of the
Strida itself, Mark Sanders. The seller, Peter Chamberlain, had purchased the
bike on a whim in Boston and lawyered it onto the airplane by calling it a
"personal mobility device." Alas, because of its broken plastic top joint, and
too many projects in the garage (a MG convertible sat behind Peter as we
talked), Peter decided to sell the bike. I wobbled around on my test ride,
constantly smacking my knees into the handlebars, but went ahead and bought the
bike for two $20 bills, anticipating at that time a payoff of much more through
flipping.

It turned out the highest return on investment wasn't the flipping opportunity,
but actually just riding the darned thing. At this point, I had been cycling
regularly for about four months on a number of inexpensive bikes I'd
accumulated over the years, but primarily my 1969 Schwinn Collegiate I bought
in Philadelphia for $25 in 2012. I didn't have the bike fit intuition or bike
repair experience I did now, so it was serendipitous that the weird triangular
Strida fit so well.

As I mentioned in my last phlog post, the Strida is completely different from
the typical diamond frame bike or even folding bike. Imperial College London
master's student Mark Sanders designed the Strida in the mid-1980s for his
thesis project, aiming to build an inexpensive folding bike for the masses
inspired by the MacLaren stroller. He wanted to build a vehicle not only
inexpensive but compact and reliable that would help commuters make last mile
journeys to and from buses and trains in his dense native country as well as
similar urban environments worldwide. Instead of a single horizontal bar
(Raleigh Twenty) or U-frame (Rog Pony) that folded in half with collapsible
seatpost and handlebars, the Strida instead formed a triangle of rear tube,
front tube, and bottom tube that could open at the bottom and fold up into a
tall structure the shape of a stroller. That's right - the pivot point, seat,
and handlebars all sat within a foot of each other. The folding mechanism
offered a substantial advantage over existing folding bikes by allowing the
bike to be rolled around folded, much like the stroller that inspired it. Only
later, when I had replaced the broken top joint, would I realize the advantage
of this feature, making it very easy to bring the Strida into grocery stores or
restaurants for doing errands. Additional conveniences included a small rear
rack for carrying a bag; single sided forks, making tire and tube replacement a
breeze; strong, low-maintenance Sturmey-Archer front and rear drum brakes; an
automotive timing belt as the drivetrain, allegedly lasting 50,000 miles with
proper cleaning, not requiring lubricants, and costing only $7.50 to replace;
and finally straps from the handlebars to engage the brakes with the bicycle
folded and standing on end, thus keeping the bike stationary when folded (how
clever!).

Anyway, my first rides didn't quite realize all those features, as I just
wanted to see how the bike felt despite the cracked top joint. Peter had
fastened the cracked part around the ball pivot back together with a bolt, so I
needn't worry about the top joint (stem equivalent) splitting in the middle of
the ride - though I certainly did. This meant I couldn't truly fold the bike up
the way God intended, but solving that issue would come later. In just the
first few hours riding the bike, I no longer went in circles or hit the
handlebars with my behemoth knees. Despite the slightly small size, I managed
daily 5 to 10 mile rides around my neighborhood for the first time in my life.
Like other beginning cyclists, I always dreaded bumps hammering into my rear,
but somehow the weird little Strida did away with this inconvenience through
the play left in the bottom tube socket. Instead of bumps rattling into my
rear, they rattled into this joint holding the bike together without bumping
the bottom tube off the ball of the front tube. I went up and down hills that
winter, single speed bedarned, coming to appreciate the four speeds of the
bike: coasting downhill, accelerating on a flat, climbing a hill, and walking
up a hill. 

Eventually I had to return to the DC area for work, but the following summer I
returned home to Cincinnati when I took leave. I decided to finally make the
repairs needed to restore the Strida to its former glory, and certainly now was
the right time, having accomplished many more bike repairs beyond the
pedestrian changing of tires and tubes I learned the year before. I had a
replacement top joint 3D printed in ASA (UV resistant ABS equivalent) for about
$40 and managed to disassemble the existing part and replace it far more
quickly than expected. This was a real confidence booster. At this point I
could now fold up the bike as intended and wheel it around by hand into tight
spaces. A whole new world of possibilities opened up that I knew existed but
didn't understand firsthand. 

I then replaced the tires and tubes following an embarrassing, slime-oozing
blowout caused by bead failure on the old tires. I replaced the existing
whitewall tires with some new ones that looked much cleaner and brighter.
Because the seat irritatingly fell further and further down each ride, I
disassembled the plastic seat assembly to make sure the seat retaining pin fell
within and not between the seat height adjustment grooves. After doing this the
seat hasn't fallen down since. Finally, I overhauled the bottom bracket with
new, fresh red lithium grease, having overcome my fear of bearing repacking on
a classic Panasonic bike to be discussed in a future phlog post. The overhaul
was easy except for the moment I had to remind myself to put the belt back on
after reinstalling the single-piece crank. As a finishing touch, I replaced the
existing cracked foam hand grips with a set of finger-contoured comfort grips I
found stuffed in a plastic jar of bike parts. These felt great and were a big
improvement over the existing hardened foam grips.

With all these repairs done, the Strida really felt like a new bike. It was
even more comfortable to ride than before, and quickly I managed even 20 mile
trips with it, in which I rediscovered yet more suburbs near my hometown.
Ironically enough I met another folding bike inventor, Bill Ropp, at the
midpoint of a ride to Summit Park in Blue Ash, Ohio. He discussed electric
folding bikes he designed and was really impressed with the design of the
Strida. When I returned to Washington, my dad continued using the Strida for
last mile commutes to and from work and mentioned the many compliments he got
from passersby and the similar unexpected satisfaction from riding this rolling
triangle.

Honestly, I don't know quite how to describe the ride of a Strida. Much like
other folding bikes, it's like a scooter crossed with a bike, with the
advantages of quick acceleration/deceleration and a tight turn radius. It has
the disadvantage of a low speed, but perhaps thanks to extended cycling
experience, I managed a reasonable 12 mph average pace in the last few 10-20
mile rides in mixed traffic in Cincinnati.

Owning the Strida has truly been a wonderful experience. I do not regret
purchasing it, as I came to love its quirks from the first ride. It's not only
taken me throughout the Cincinnati area but also inspired me to cycle more in
general, helped me understand the importance of bike fit, and connected me with
now at least two creative individuals designing the next generations of folding
bikes.

Additional high-res Strida content below.
YouTube video featuring Mark Sanders describing the Strida design process:
https://youtu.be/CW_GKCfbYcU
YouTube video showing my Strida repairs/upgrades: https://youtu.be/CPVrUUc9k6w
YouTube video showing me ride my Strida: https://youtu.be/fl82PGsfyV4