Walkabout: Freewheeling Summer, Part Two

Read Part 1 of this story.

Brooklyn’s current cycling enthusiasm is not new. Today’s bicycle riders are continuing in the grand traditions of biking from the turn of the 20th century, when this two-wheeled adventure was at a peak that has yet to be matched. The bicycle was that period’s great equalizer. There were bicycles available for sale or trade for almost every income group, and the roads belonged to all. A poor laborer could find himself waiting to cross the street with one of the richest people in town. Men and women could ride together, and for the first time in memory, a modern single woman could ride the streets by herself, unaccompanied by chaperone or male companion. This relatively simple steel framed contraption on wheels was a major catalyst for change in American society, and after the bike craze of the fin de siecle, nothing would be the same again.

Realizing that it had a phenomenon on its hands, on April 3, 1898, the Brooklyn Eagle devoted 15 pages of its Sunday paper to biking. All topics pertaining to the popular activity were discussed, including the politics of riding and the roads, new innovations in equipment, the proper clothing and accoutrement for the modern and stylish cyclist. Bicycle paths for day and overnight trips were mapped out, with accommodations and attractions, and the state of the roads for these trips, as well as in the city, were also thoroughly examined. A summary of those topics can be found in Part One of this story.

One thing the bikers of yesterday had that has not seen resurgence today is the importance of the many bicycle clubs that existed in the 1890s. Everyone belonged to, or followed a club. There were clubs for every ethnic, religious and racial group. There were regional clubs, private rich clubs, egalitarian touring clubs, elite racing clubs, men’s clubs, ladies’ clubs and co-ed clubs. There were Flatbush clubs, Brooklyn Heights clubs, Canarsie clubs, Manhattan clubs, Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Long Island clubs. There were literally hundreds of biking clubs in the city and surrounding suburbs.

Everyone, it seemed, loved to bike. One of the articles in the Eagle biking section was called “Ministers Who Ride,” about the many pastors of Brooklyn’s churches who enjoyed biking for its health benefits, as well as to get around to their appointments and to visit their parishioners. They found that riding enabled them to double or triple the number of congregants they were able to see. Like their British cousins always portrayed on bikes in country parishes, Brooklyn’s rectors regarded the bicycle as a godsend.

Many of Brooklyn’s most well-known and important preachers were cyclists. The term for a biker in those days was a wheelman, and his bike was generally known as a wheel. Brooklyn’s ordained wheelmen included pastors of just about every Protestant faith, as well as many Catholic priests. They came from Brooklyn’s largest and most well-known churches, to the smallest, including Grace Church, Plymouth Church, the Baptist Temple, St. Francis Xavier, St. George, Christ Church, St. Andrew’s, St. Patrick’s, Our Lady of Victory, St. Charles Borromeo, St. Finbar’s, Saints Peter and Paul, Church of the Messiah, and many, many, many more.

Dr. J. J. Heishmann of St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Bedford was one of the city’s first cycling pastors. He told the Eagle that he had been riding for about five years. He said that although his parish reports tell of a fair number of “headers” that he had taken, he remained enthusiastic about cycling. The Rev. P.F. Jubelt of Zion Lutheran Church in Flatbush called his wheel “one of the clergyman’s best friends.”

Dr. Peter Alsop, the rector of St. Ann’s in the Heights was also an avid cyclist. He could often be found on his wheel, accompanied by his son and two daughters, who were all excellent riders. He told the paper, “I ride the wheel not to make a record, but because I enjoy being in the open air and because I think it is good for my health. I think it is very desirable for men who lead sedentary lives to have some enjoyable exercise which entices them from their books and into the open air.”

The wheel, it turned out, was a great pastoral tool. Many other pastors told the papers that some of their parishioners were also avid wheelmen, and often went out riding with them. This enabled them all to get to know each other better, and to find out in a casual way, the concerns of their church and its members. Lastly, the Rev. Horace Porter, assistant pastor at Plymouth Church was an enthusiastic rider, as was his wife. They rode all over the city, and loved to visit historic sites and buildings. They also spent their vacations on bike tours, traveling upstate to the Hudson Valley and other parts of the state.

Many of the bicycle clubs were dedicated sport racing clubs. These were the professional athletes who made the Eagle’s sports pages for running races and marathon bike tours. Every day was the Tour de France for these men. They were almost all young and wealthy. Those who weren’t were often sponsored by rich patrons. They had the free time to spend training and racing, which they did most of the year. In addition to racing and breaking speed and endurance records, as clubs and individuals, they spent a lot of time lobbying for better roads throughout the city and surrounding area.

The most famous of these clubs were the Kings County Wheelmen. They were headquartered in the fashionable Bedford district, and had several rented club rooms before building their own posh clubhouse in the 1890s, next door to the Union League Club on Bedford Avenue near Dean Street. Their club rivaled the private men’s clubs in the city, and they often raced against Brooklyn’s most elite sports club, the Crescent Athletic Club, located in Brooklyn Heights.

All of the elite wheelmen’s clubs shared a love of showing off. Like a peacock, a professional racing biker was resplendent in his club’s silks, the brightly colored uniform he wore in races. It was a tight-fitting outfit carefully designed to cut wind resistance and increase speed. The costumes also served to give the young ladies quite a view of the rider’s ability to father children. With their skin tight outfits, jaunty caps and finely maintained moustaches, these young me were the rock stars of their day, and they knew it.

They began to stage exhibitions of trick riding to entertain the crowds, especially the ladies. Racing day promised to be a spectacle as the racers mesmerized the crowds by standing on their heads, balancing precariously on the seats and standing on the frame while the bike was moving, and other circus tricks. The Brooklyn Eagle illustrated and explained many of these tricks so that the reader could try it for himself, although the paper warned that they were not for the foolhardy or the irresponsible.

Speaking of dress, as an alternative to racing silks, the fashionable Brooklyn rider had many choices as to how they wanted to appear on their wheels. It would not look good to be out in public in less than one’s finest sartorial splendor. Fortunately, the Eagle was prepared, with a selection of appropriate riding clothes for both men and women, with a shout-out to the stores that carried these must-have cycling outfits.

Women were still hampered by society’s insistence on long skirts and covered limbs. But good sense dictated that it was impossible for a woman to ride a bike if her skirts were getting tangled in the wheels and gears. Concessions needed to be made, and that resulted in several innovative clothing lines. One of Brooklyn’s most ardent female cyclists was Mrs. Lena Settig, a great philanthropist and inventor. She held several patents, including one for a divided cycling suit that allowed the rider to hike up her skirts through a clever series of ties and buttons. Her skirt would have been smashing with the riding boots sold in many of Downtown Brooklyn’s finest stores. They were soft kid boots that extended to mid-calf, perfect for covering the leg left exposed by the shorter skirts.

According to the article, Abraham and Straus carried the finest in riding suits for women. They were in neutral earth tones that hid the dust of the road, and could also be worn for other genteel sporting pursuits such as golf or lawn tennis. This outfit had a divided skirt with a panel that could be joined or opened the front, and a tight fitting top coat with plaid trim. A tightly wrapped scarf at the neck, plaid stockings, kid gloves and a boater hat finished off the outfit. The paper explained that this look came from England, where it was worn by the only the smartest set.

The men had much more variety. Like the women, their wheeling outfits could be worn as golf outfits, too. But men could take advantage of color and style! The paper explained that that a well-dressed man could wear a cycling suit, or he could wear a stylish sweater. Plaids were big, because the combination of colors would hide the dust of the road well. A man could top off his outfit with a brightly colored racing scarf which could reflect his club’s colors, or like today’s sports jerseys, his admiration of a favorite team.

Men’s pants could be close fitting. The average cyclist did not wear outfits as tight as the racers, but a well-dressed wheelman usually had full cut knickers that ended in plaid garters or socks. There were all kinds of garters, especially footless ones that covered the leg and ended in a strap that went under the foot or boot. The classic golf outfits, with the loud madras plaid pants were as much a part of wheeling as golfing, and were very popular then. If the weather didn’t permit a sweater, which could also be a plaid or solid, a man was expected to be in a modified cutaway jacket, cut with plenty of room to move one’s arms freely.

Of course, it was in the accessories that a man could make his mark. The garters, socks, ties, scarves, hats and caps made the man. All sorts of styles could be purchased in the shopping district, many of them imported from England, where biking styles were king. A man also had a choice of footwear. He could wear a modified hunting boot, or special biking shoes that went well with the varying patterns and styles of socks and garters. Again, club colors, or just sartorial jauntiness could win the day.

Of course, all of this was for those who could afford it. The average working man and woman wore what they had. In the summer, a less wealthy wheelman in his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and cotton slacks was probably secretly envied by the wags in their madras suits and strangling ascots. But no matter what one wore, Brooklyn took to the wheel in numbers that would make today’s biking enthusiasts proud. If the automobile hadn’t captured the time and wallets of 20th century America, we might have been like many Europeans and Asians today, proud of our free-wheeling past, and ready to share the road. And we would have looked good doing it, too.

(Cycling race in Grand Army Plaza. Photo: NYC Parks)