On Friday, December 18th, 1868 – only 143 years ago today – Detroit’s first bicyclist hit the street.

That is according to this colorful Detroit Free Press article, “The First Detroit Velocipedist,” which was published on the 19th:

Yesterday the first Detroit man that had the temerity to bestride the (not foaming, but very restive and treacherous) velocipede and show his skill (?) in the public street, might have been seen moving slowly along Jefferson avenue, followed by a large crowd of men and boys of all ages, classes and conditions. The bold rider was no other that the irrepressible Ben Fletcher, of the Michigan News Company. Sometimes he got along bravely by himself and seemed likely to run away from the crowd, but the next moment it would take a man on each side of him to keep him steady, while a third person behind pushed the machine along. Now the perverse front wheel would turn crosswise, and besides slopping all headway would make it pretty warm for the rider’s shins. In coming back it would usually lurch the other way, not infrequently seating the rider on the damp sidewalk. A horseman present thought he would as soon ride a “quarter horse”^{[Note 1]} while a large portion of the crowd were of the opinion that the velocipede had by some mistake been oiled with a superior brand of unstamped “tangle foot” or “forty rod.”^{[Note 2]} A gentleman in the crowd fancies he has discovered the way of balancing the concern, which he thinks is to turn the great wheel crosswise as soon as there is any danger of an upset. Ben allows him to put his theory to a practical test. He mounts the vehicle and dashes off at a fine rate; at the first waver of his balance he applies his new discovery; but the inturned handle takes him in the place where Jonah was^{[Note 3]}, and presently the velocipede is uppermost. Yesterday the velocipede had to be helped over crosswalks and steadied in rough places; but this state of things will not last a great while, for before long velocipedes will be as plenty as carriages in the streets, and velocipeding will become as popular as driving or skating^{[Note 4]}. The Michigan News Company has the agency for the Hanlons’ Patent Velocipede in this place^{[Note 5]}, and there can be no doubt that they will push their business so that in a short time velocipeding will be all the rage.

Notes

1. Quarter horses excel at short sprints and speedy maneuvers. The breed is often used in rodeos.
2. “Forty rod” is a facetious name for a “cheap and strong” whiskey “so called for its alleged ability to kill at forty rods” or one-eighth mile.
3. The “place where Jonah was” is a Biblical reference to the stomach.
4. In 1868, driving means driving horses, not cars. Skating refers to roller skates, which were around at that time.
5. The Hanlons were an New York acrobatic group that used velocipedes in their show. They modified their bikes and patented the improvements.

More details on the ride

It’s likely that Fletcher’s first ride began outside the offices of the Michigan News Company. They were located on Jefferson, a half-block west of Woodward.

Thirty-three years later, the Detroit Free Press had a follow up interview with Fletcher, who was now a traveling passenger agent for the Grand Trunk railroad.

He said that bike weighed around 100 pounds and was built in France. He eventually sold the bike to Daniel Soper of Newago, before Soper became the secretary of state for Michigan.

Fletcher also recalled the local music publishers selling a composition called the “Velocipede Gallop” and there was a cigar called “The Velocipede.”

This was not the first velocipede in Detroit, according to Fletcher. There was one on display in a specialty exhibit.

In our searches of the Free Press archives, the first velocipedes advertised in Detroit were in December 1851. However, these were for children and likely had three or four wheels.

Velocipede School

A new velocipede school was opened a couple months after Fletcher’s first ride. It was a 12-foot wide track around the outside of an indoors skating rink. Nine laps equaled a mile. The school rented velocipedes by the hour.

We’re not sure how successful this venture was as it did not appear in the 1869 city business directory.

Also, it wasn’t until 1878 that the first velocipedes were manufactured in Detroit. Velocipedes had become quite popular by then and their riders were starting to organize in order to establish their legal rights within Detroit.

As for Ben Fletcher, he died in early 1902 and is buried at the Forest Lawn cemetery.

John Dodge's bicycle from 1898

Below is an exciting story about the Dodge Brothers which doesn’ t have much to do with cycling — but it’s an exciting story!

To begin, we’ve already mentioned that John and Horace Dodge had a major role in Detroit’s rich cycling history.

• They both volunteered as judge and timer at various Detroit Wheelmen bike races at Belle Isle and at the track. (The Detroit Wheelmen was the city’s premier cycling club during this era.)
• “Mr. Dodge” was stoker in a 2-mile tandem race on the Detroit banked track in 1897.
• They received a bicycle bearing patent (No. 567,851) in 1896 which was part of a unique design for hubs and bottom brackets.
• They formed the Detroit Bicycle Improvement Company in March of 1897 with $40,000 in capital.
• They manufactured the Evans and Dodge bicycles in Windsor in partnership with Canadian Fred Evans. They sold their interest in the company in 1900 and opened a machine shop in Detroit’s Boydell Building on Beaubien near Greektown (now home to Nikki’s Club and Pizzeria.)

After opening the machine shop, they began making automobile engines and components for Olds, and a few years later for Henry Ford.

So they stopped biking then, right?

Apparently not.

In 1905, John Dodge ran for a director position on the Detroit Wheelmen board. We’re not sure yet whether he was elected, but we do know that his brother Horace was elected the club’s Second Vice-President the following year.

And it seems they were still involved with Detroit’s premier cycling club in 1908 when this story begins.

Auto Thieves come to Grief

That was the title of a Detroit Free Press article published in September of 1908. John Dodge, then a Water Commissioner for the city of Detroit, parked his car in front of the Detroit Wheelmen’s clubhouse on Adams, just a block east of today’s Cheli’s Chili.

It was a Saturday night and 17-year old George Duplus and a couple friends decided to steal a car, cruise Jefferson, and pick up girls. John Dodge’s car was large enough to carry them and their anticipated passengers, so they stole it. However, after an evening of cruising Jefferson, they never got more than waves from the ladies.

In the meantime, realizing his car was stolen, John called his brother Horace. They decided to hunt for it themselves. This was somewhat realistic since they’re weren’t all that many cars in Detroit at the time.

According to the Free Press, they found the car shortly after 1 AM on Mt. Elliot just north of East Grand Boulevard.

The Dodge brothers followed the machine until they were certain that it was the stolen one and then Commissioner [John] Dodge fired a shot at the rubber-tired wheel. Instantly, the auto containing the three lads came to a standstill. One of the young men was thrown violently over the dash board and landed on his face in the street, while this two companions jumped out of the machine and ran away.

Patrolman [Otto] Taube heard the shot and hurrying to the scene, found Duplus still lying unconscious on the street. The policeman and the Dodge brothers worked over Duplus for 20 minutes before he recovered consciousness.

Is “worked over” to be taken literally or as a euphemism? Perhaps the latter according to this source:

There are numerous anecdotes illustrating [John Dodge's] volatility. He once, for example, was reported to have threatened a Detroit saloon owner with a pistol, forced him to dance on the top of his bar and then applauded his dancing skills by smashing dozens of glasses against the walls of the saloon. A sober John Dodge returned the next day to apologize and pay for the damages.

Duplus later confessed to the story, adding:

“I was driving the machine and turned north on Mt. Elliot avenue. A minute later someone fired a shot and I reversed the power and the machine came to a sudden stop. That is the last that I knew until I revived on the street and the policeman was standing over me.”

Duplus, who worked at Packard, was charged with grand larceny. He had been arrested on a similar charge .

More Dodge Trivia

From a Chrysler paper, The Dodge Brothers: “At age 13, with the help of brother John, [Horace] built a working high-wheel bicycle from scrap materials.” Impressive.

John Dodge not only served on Detroit’s Water Commission Board (1905 through 1910), he also served on the Detroit Street Railway Commission (1913 through 1920.) He helped settle a transit strike in 1914 and led a campaign advocating for public ownership of the streetcar system.

The Dodge Brothers were multi-modal supporters.

The below list was originally published by the New York World in 1895.

It’s not known whether the author(s) were male or female, but that doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.

For those who get nostalgic for that 1890s golden era of cycling, it’s important to realize it wasn’t golden for everyone. Major Taylor can vouch for that.

Besides, did anyone really think that making a list of 41 “dont’s” would encourage more women to ride?

• Don’t be a fright.
• Don’t faint on the road.
• Don’t wear a man’s cap.
• Don’t wear tight garters.
• Don’t forget your toolbag
• Don’t attempt a “century.”
• Don’t coast. It is dangerous.
• Don’t boast of your long rides.
• Don’t criticize people’s “legs.”
• Don’t wear loud hued leggings.
• Don’t cultivate a “bicycle face.”
• Don’t refuse assistance up a hill.
• Don’t wear clothes that don’t fit.
• Don’t neglect a “light’s out” cry.
• Don’t wear jewelry while on a tour.
• Don’t race. Leave that to the scorchers.
• Don’t wear laced boots. They are tiresome.
• Don’t imagine everybody is looking at you.
• Don’t go to church in your bicycle costume.
• Don’t wear a garden party hat with bloomers.
• Don’t contest the right of way with cable cars.
• Don’t chew gum. Exercise your jaws in private.
• Don’t wear white kid gloves. Silk is the thing.
• Don’t ask, “What do you think of my bloomers?”
• Don’t use bicycle slang. Leave that to the boys.
• Don’t go out after dark without a male escort.
• Don’t without a needle, thread and thimble.
• Don’t try to have every article of your attire “match.”
• Don’t let your golden hair be hanging down your back.
• Don’t allow dear little Fido to accompany you
• Don’t scratch a match on the seat of your bloomers.
• Don’t discuss bloomers with every man you know.
• Don’t appear in public until you have learned to ride well.
• Don’t overdo things. Let cycling be a recreation, not a labor.
• Don’t ignore the laws of the road because you are a woman.
• Don’t try to ride in your brother’s clothes “to see how it feels.”
• Don’t scream if you meet a cow. If she sees you first, she will run.
• Don’t cultivate everything that is up to date because yon ride a wheel.
• Don’t emulate your brother’s attitude if he rides parallel with the ground.
• Don’t undertake a long ride if you are not confident of performing it easily.
• Don’t appear to be up on “records” and “record smashing.” That is sporty.

The suggestion to not coast is referring to one taking their feet off the pedals of a fixed gear bicycle on downhills.

Can you really light a match from the seat of your bloomers?

One of Detroit’s most famous cycling and Good Roads advocate received a posthumous award from Amsterdam: The Paul Mijksenaar Design for Function Award 2011.

White lines down the middle of the road: What could be more obvious? And yet they were once – in 1911, to be exact – a brilliant new idea. In Michigan, Edward N. Hines, a member of the Wayne County Road Commission, saw a leaky milk wagon leaving a liquid trail on a dusty roadway. It made him think of painting white lines down the centre of the road to create lanes that would clearly separate traffic moving in opposite directions.

The Detroit News and Free Press also acknowledged his award, but left out many of his other accomplishments which this 1914 article in Motor Age magazine sums up well.

Like scores of other notables whose names you will find in the “Who’s Who” of motordom, Edward Hines unknowingly rode out on a bicycle to meet Fame. This was two score and 4 years ago when he was an enthusiastic cyclist and a three-ply executive, serving simultaneously as vice-president of the League of American Wheelmen, chief consul of the Michigan division of the L. A. W. and president of the Detroit Wheelmen. He pedaled through the mud and mire and hurdled the bumps of the Wayne county highways until his leg muscles went on a strike and his vertebrae demanded shock absorbers. Sore and exhausted, he decided to turn reformer and take the initiative in an attempt to improve the highways radiating from Detroit.

In 1890 he formed a good roads organization which petitioned the state legislature to amend the constitution, make the counties instead of the townships the units for the building and maintenance of the highways and give the counties the privilege of adopting the county system. Three years of missionary work and lobbying elapsed before such a measure was passed. In the meantime, Hines superintended the construction of 3-foot wide bicycle cinder paths built with money raised through popular subscription by the Detroit Journal. He also coaxed through the legislature a bill protecting these paths from the roving kine and devastating wagons of the Michigan farmers.

County System Gradually Adopted

The county road law was passed in 1893. Its adoption by the various counties was certain and gradual. At the present time fifty-eight of the eighty-three counties of Michigan have seen the benefits to be derived from building their roads under skilled and intelligent supervision and have condemned former township road supervisors to the oubliette.

When Wayne county adopted the county system of road supervision 8 years ago, Hines was made chairman of the highway commission. Henry Ford, whom Hines knew as an ambitious young man and whose famous 999 he had timed in its first trial on the ice of Lake St. Clair, was a member of the county board and an ally of the road doctor of Detroit in his fight for the use of concrete in highway construction.

When first organized, the commission followed the accepted practices and started in to build bituminous macadam roads, but after a year’s experience in noting the wear upon them, foreseeing a constantly increasing maintenance charge and weeping as flotillas of motor cars scattered the so-called good roads into particles, it decided that a change was not only desirable, but imperative, and set out to find a material that was more permanent and durable and no more costly than macadam.

Edward Hines found such a material. It was concrete.

Hines thought roads were more than just concrete. He was an adamant supporter of road beautification efforts, which is why Hines Drive in Wayne County is named after him.

“I may want too much, I may be too visionary,” he said, “but I am going to have a road beautiful even if I have to spend my own money to satisfy such a desire.”

So don’t be surprised if in the future while touring in the vicinity of Detroit you suddenly run head-on into a mass of trailing arbutus, daffodils, chrysanthemums, lilies of the valley, orchids and forget-me-nots.

When Edward Hines wants something, he gets it.

If Hines were around today, he would probably “get” Complete Streets and Transportation Enhancements as well.

Congratulations on your award, Mr. Hines.

Detroit elected Hazen Pingree mayor for four terms starting in 1889. During his time in office, he proposed a plan for a park along Detroit’s riverfront. The park would replace the industrial uses which kept the public from the river.

During the past decade, his vision for a more green waterfront has not only come to fruition but been expanded upon in length, running from just beyond both the MacArthur Bridge (at Belle Isle) to the Ambassador Bridge — if not further eventually.

George W. Stark’s book City of Destiny published in 1943 provides some background on Pingree’s pursuit.

Had Mr. Pingree had his way, Detroit’s sorely-neeed improved waterfront would have been started in his time and the city’s front door today an entrance of beauty, instead of pretty much an eyesore. For he proposed public acquisition of the waterfront from the Third street eastward [near Joe Louis Arena today] to include the old City waterworks site at the foot of Orleans Street [midpoint of today's Milliken State Park]. He would have vacated about eighteen blocks in that area and converted it into a public park with an esplanade of shade trees, walks, lawns, pavilions and driveway.

It was a beautiful idea and periodically there is a revival of it, with plans and specifications brought down to current scale, indicating that, like all the pioneering dreams, this one will become a reality some day. In Pingree’s time, owners and lessees of riverfront property protested and conservative citizens denounced the plan as fantastic and ruinously extravagant.

If alive today, Stark and Pingree would likely agree. The Detroit RiverWalk is fantastic.