Denys is a recent Brompton convert and a relative of Brompton CEO Will Butler-Adams. His first trip with the new T Line doubles as a test. The Brompton is built to far tighter tolerances than a standard bike because when something folds, every fraction of a millimetre counts. Smaller always means harder. In Bermuda, Denys sets out to see if that difficulty pays off—if a bike built for the last mile can really go the extra one. So, without any further ado, here’s Denys!
“A Computer Is a Bicycle For The Mind.”
I’ve long adored this Steve Jobs quote. He was referring, as I now realize, to the power of both machines to amplify, or leverage, our natural abilities – motive with the bike, and mental with the computer. Until I stumbled onto this explanation, however, the quote had always evoked for me something much more whimsical and adventurous – that both devices free us to try new things and wander to our heart’s content.
This matters, because for reasons I can’t explain, it occurred to me that my little Brompton folding bike is the same weight – 18 lbs – as my first computer: a portable, Canadian-made jobbie called a Hyperion. It was svelte in comparison with other so-called “luggables” of that era. I used to haul it to and from work on the subway in a case that looked like it might hold a small sewing machine. These days, my Nexus-issued laptop, at less than 2.2 lbs., is barely noticeable when I ride my 18-pound Brompton. If wandering is about expansion, a good tool condenses that.
Yen To Wander
This yen to wander was very much in mind in June as I was trying to put a finger on why the idea of a Brompton was so appealing. As an avid urban cyclist and commuter for many years, a Brompton wasn’t really going to be a game changer for me on that score. To be sure, the T Line is more compact and easier to haul with me than the steel frame road bike that I’ve thought of as my “go anywhere” steed since late 2016. And for riding longer distances north of the city on quiet country roads I have two wonderfully comfortable 2006-era carbon fibre road bikes that fit me like a glove and go like the wind.
Yet, the image that kept coming to mind in June as I read the history of the bike and the company in The Brompton: Engineering for Change was “a weekend in Copenhagen”. Copenhagen? Never been there. Nor has it ever been mooted as a place we might go before, during or after one of our many cycling trips to idyllic locations in Europe. Paris? Of course. Several times. Barcelona? Check. Florence and Rome? Yup and yup. But the idea of exploring Copenhagen by bike on a long weekend kept nosing its way into my imagination, like a dog that insists on being petted. (My wife regarded this notion as mere rationalization and justification for adding to my “fleet.)
Last Mile Convert
Suffice it to say that, empowered by the nutty idea of exploring somewhere like Copenhagen from the seat of a bike, I took the plunge and got a 12-speed T Line from Pedaal in mid-July. Since then I’ve ridden it all over the city, seizing pretty much any excuse to do so. Visit with my son and his family for morning coffee out in the east end? I’ll ride. Deliver documents to a client in the west end? I’m the bike courier. Get from the office downtown to lunch with a client somewhere in mid-town? Brompton beats Uber.
Between these sorts of trips and daily commutes, by early November I had logged over 1,400 kilometers in the city. So, the Brompton as urban transportation is a winner, in my books. But I knew it would be. That’s what it was designed for: the so-called “last mile”.
Brompton Goes to Bermuda
But what of that yen to wander? That weekend in Copenhagen? Well…as the days got shorter and temperatures dropped, that idea morphed. It became “Brompton goes to Bermuda”. Having been to that lovely paradise several times in my life, including riding a bicycle there on my own at age 14, I had a reasonably clear idea of what I was signing up for. And the chance to take a trip down memory lane, with no more than a bike and a backpack, held real appeal.
The first thing to work out was how to get Brommie there and back. I’ve flown several times with bikes over the last 45 years, transporting them – disassembled – in all manner of enclosures, including a cardboard box, over-sized hardcase, and large rolling softcase. So, I spent plenty of time on-line investigating alternatives. In the end I settled on the very cardboard box used to ship a Brompton from London to Toronto.
Flying With A Brompton
With almost as much engineering in it as the bike itself, the box was purpose-built for the job. I removed the seat so it wouldn’t cause the top of the box to bulge. But I otherwise did no more prepping of the bike than I would to fold it up for carrying. I probably could have stashed a bit more in the box with the bike than I did. In retrospect the helmet might’ve been a good idea, so my wearing it for take-off and landing would be a little less off-putting for those seated next to me on the plane!
The cost for the box and shipping? Zilch! As with any cardboard box, Air Canada insisted it be handled as “over-sized” luggage. But there was nary a whisper about the usual bike surcharge. At the other end I could easily carry my backpack-cum-duffle in one hand and the Brompton box in the other to get to the taxi.
Khyber Pass
Because I like the only encumbrance on my bikes to be me, not racks and packs, I ride with as little as possible. In Bermuda it was a simple drawstring bag on my back, which usually held only a shell, some sunscreen, and my mini electronic inflator. I stayed hydrated with a clever “FIDLOCK” water bottle set-up that works well on a Brompton.
Bermuda’s a great place to ride a bike…on the left. Though the roads are narrow, without shoulders or sidewalks, and often busy, the vehicles are small and speeds are capped at 35 kph. Anyone used to cycling in Toronto wouldn’t be the least bit fazed. Road surfaces were utterly rideable. It never freezes there, so what rough spots I found were mild by Toronto standards and thoroughly navigable.
For a place at sea level whose highest point is only 79 metres above that, Bermuda is surprisingly hilly. In Toronto, I spend over 90% of my time in the middle 4 gears of my 12-speed (i.e. rear hub gear 2). In Bermuda I was dipping into the lowest 4 gears regularly. I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise in a place where there are at least two roads called “Khyber Pass”.
A Many Miles Thing
The tropical climate is glorious for cycling. Though November is considered the low season, and the locals layer up a bit, I think I wore a shell over my cycling jersey for a grand total of 30 minutes of all my time on the bike. It’s humid, and it does rain. But if the weather forecast is getting you down, fret not. Just wait. Mere days before the trip, it looked like my whole week might be a washout. In actuality, the rain kept me off the bike for only one day.
Between the turquoise ocean and the brightly painted homes, the colours of Bermuda are spectacular. The place isn’t so much an island as a collection of them. It’s no more than 42 kms end to end. But I counted 7 bridges from my little hotel in St. George’s in the east to the Dockyard in the west. And for one with a yen for wandering, there’s a myriad of “roads less travelled by” to choose from. There’s even a beautiful route that wends its way through an enormous and breathtaking golf course and pops you out at one of the many outstanding Bermuda beaches.
While it may be just another case of confirmation bias, riding my Brompton nearly 320 kms in Bermuda has sealed it. What began as no more than a notion of what I might do as my professional life demands less and less of my time is now a real thing. And it isn’t just a “last mile” thing. It’s a “many miles” thing.
Questions about a Brompton? We can help!
Thanks Denys! And, if you’d like to submit a travelogue, please contact eric@pedaal.com.
Got a question? We’d love to help! For quick questions, click the chat button during opening hours or shoot us an email at info@pedaal.com. Want to really drill down with some questions? Book an in-store or remote sales appointment by clicking here. Of course, we’re also a phone call away too! Just dial 416-972-1422, ask for Eric or Timm and we’d love to help!
Questions about a Brompton? We can help!
