Bicycle Brains
by Mark Roland
The bike between her legs was like some hyper-evolved alien tail that she'd somehow extruded, as though over the patient centuries...
-- Virtual Light, by William Gibson
The Spring Lake, New Jersey police department was having its more or less annual bicycle sale one Saturday morning in early August and I was there with my uncle, who decided he wanted one and who loves a bargain. A cop wheeled out junkers one at a time from somewhere within the low brick building and lined them up in a far corner of the parking lot while another officer knelt in the grass, 9mm askew, sweating and writing out receipts. Even at the going price of five bucks apiece, most weren't worth it for parts unless you were restoring a 1992 Huffy. A neon-green mountain bike looked like a candle that had melted in the sun.
"That guy's dead," said my uncle, pointing to the misshapen lump of cheap steel.
When the cop brought out a rather classic-looking black single-speed with fenders and a chain guard I immediately went over and staked my claim. There was no brand plate, only "Made in Czhechoslovakia" [sic] at the bottom of the down tube.
We took the bike home and I put air in the tires. The sidewalls looked like crackled pottery but they held. I adjusted the seat and handlebars and my uncle hopped on and pedaled down the street. He was a bit shaky at first, but cruising along like Pee Wee Herman in no time.
"Looking good. When was the last time you were on a bike?"
"1957," he yelled as he made the arc to turn back my way.
I guess it's true what they say, you never forget how to ride a bike.
It's interesting that the expression isn't you never forget how to row a boat or drive a car. Not that we're necessarily more likely to forget how to do those things, but the bicycle is a machine that interfaces so well with its human software that it serves as the perfect example of how the brain adapts to new platforms.
An article in Wired magazine by John Hockenberry explored the outer limits of this interface. He describes people with disabilities who, with the aid of implants, are controlling a computer cursor with their thoughts. What does this have to do with bicycles? Here's Hockenberry, who uses a wheelchair, toward the end of the article:
For those open to the possibility, the definition of human includes a whole range of biological-machine hybrids, of which I am only one. The ultimate promise of brain-machine technology is to add functionality -- enhanced vision, hearing, strength -- to people without disabilities.
He describes meeting a young man in Africa "in a fabulous, canopied hand-pedaled bike/wheelchair/street RV... it was almost impossible to see where his body left off and his welded-tube contraption began."
Not long after the bicycle was invented, futurists were predicting humans would quickly evolve to the point that we would be capable of thundering down highways at 50 miles an hour on the iron steeds. But the automobile came along before any significant genetic mutations occured, and people got fatter instead of faster.
Just goes to show you what
a fool's game gazing into a crystal ball can be. Which of course only encourages
me to speculate that perhaps in the not so distant future when we "clip in"
we'll really clip in.
© Mark Roland
Bicyclewire.com, September 24, 2001