My 2021 Brompton H6R: 4,000 kilometres To see this post on the blog go to https://life2wheels.com
I've been riding my Brompton for close to four-and-a-half years now.
Four-and-a-half years and 4,000 kilometres.
In reality it's been even more distance than that on the Brompton because I picked up the bike on March 12, 2021, but I didn't start logging the distance cycled until November of that year with hundreds of kilometres already pedalled. Some of that wandering happened as far afield as Vancouver, Montreal, and Ogunquit.
The four thousand kilometres I am celebrating here, with you, is the portion of that distance both travelled and recorded meticulously, thanks to an Excel spreadsheet that tracks my activities, and my trusty CatEye Quick odometer.
I’ll be the first to say that Bromptons are strange cycles.
The odd aspects begin most obviously with the small wheels, but on closer inspection, every aspect of the bicycle is even stranger. The frame is odd, all low-to-the-ground and gracefully curved. The seat post stands out because it’s so darn long. The handle bars are shaped with their own weird curves, or not, depending on your choice. Then there’s the gearing. Six gears split between a rear derailleur and a rear hub transmission, and there are other gearing options as well. Oh, and I should wrap it up here, but wait… what two-wheel bicycle has six wheels???? My Brompton does.
But the best strange feature, by far, very, very far, is that the Brompton folds, and it folds in mere seconds!
All those weird aspects I mentioned, without exception, are carefully engineered to allow the Brompton to fold very efficiently.
Folded, Bromptons fit in an airplane’s overhead storage compartment; two Bromptons fit in the trunk of a Smart car; they fit in suitcases; under restaurant tables; in crowded subway trains and buses; two fit in a hallway closet without interfering with coats and jackets; Bromptons live happily in the trunk of any car or taxi…
The list goes on, but I’ll happily stop there.
The appropriate focus for the appreciation of any two-wheeler is, and ought to be, not its appearance, but how it rides.
As odd as the Brompton is in all elements of its being, almost none of all that strangeness translates into the ride.
The only exception worth mentioning is that it takes a couple of kilometres to adjust to what we’ll call its “twitchyness”. I got used to that very quickly, most likely because I had been riding a Vespa motor scooter for over ten years, and Vespas also have small wheels.
The very first time I rode a Brompton was at the dealer when I gave it a test ride. I didn’t really know what to expect. What a surprise that was!
All the Brompton’s strangeness completely disappears once you’re in the saddle because your experience is not what you can see, it’s what you feel. And what you feel is a bicycle. A perfectly normal bicycle.
I can’t blame you for doubting my assessment since you may think I’m biased.
If I have sparked a little curiosity, consider the Brompton cyclists who take their bikes on incredible long-range expeditions, from England to Sweden; from London to Paris; from Amsterdam to Belgium, France, and Spain; through the Himalayas; throughout northern Japan; from Toronto to Montreal; from England to Poland; to South Korea, Japan, Taiwan and Singapore, and the list goes on, and on. The adventures are abundant, and well-documented on YouTube.
Search on Youtube for Susanna Thornton; the Brompton Traveler; la petite réinventerie; Lady Brompton; Rizal Sapi; and 2bikes4adventure. And that’s not all. There are many others for you to discover on your own.
All to say that 4,000 kilometres on a Brompton is... really nothing.
Nothing... but the joy and true pleasure of life on two wheels.
