International Velomobile-Meeting 2007

8th International Velomobile Meeting

Biebertal, September 21-23, 2007

by Martin Keller

As the Velomobile Meeting approached, the urge grew in me to travel to Biebertal not by the direct route from the Augsburg region, but to add in a “little” detour through Dronten. For one thing, I had always wanted to get acquainted with the birthplace of my Quest and to meet its “Fathers,” and for another, I kept having problems with the shifting, that I could never quite figure out. And as a special little treat, I would be able to meet up with the caravan of flying Dutchmen who travel to Biebertal every year in a convoy. To make the story short, it was a great experience, and I can heartily recommend a velomobile cycling tour to everyone.

Sept 12.07: Quest with luggage before the trip. Photo: Martin Keller

On the first day, my path led me from the Augsburg region to the neighborhood of Göppingen where my father lives. An easy 150 kilometers, after which I was still in shape to put in a couple of hours helping my father build a wood cabin. The second day was a “rest day,” which I spent building and roofing the cabin. Then to the real start. Was it overconfidence? In any case, I wanted to bike to my mother’s place near Hammelburg, which was about 280 kilometers away. By afternoon, around three-thirty, I had managed just 110 kilometers. This stretch was actually tough for a velomobile. The rivers all ran in the wrong direction, so I was constantly forced to brake my way down into the valleys and on the other side to fight my way back up with all my luggage. That’s when a velomobile really gets heavy. And I found out that not every little country road running along a river has to stay even with the river’s elevation. Often, I clung to a 15% rise, just astonished that I made it to the top. But I had, after all, a year of velomobile training behind me, with a few thousand kilometers. Without that conditioning, I couldn’t have made it. In the afternoon, it was downhill into the Tauber Valley, and then the rest of the way along the Main River. I almost felt I was flying. On the flat, speeds over 40 km per hour on smooth asphalt; your head just turns off, and you become a pedaling machine. You feel enormously happy. Of course, the soles of my feet did call to me once in a while, and every hour or so I had to stop for a few minutes to allow them some rest. About 20 kilometers from my destination, I couldn’t go any further; I needed a stop for wonderful salty fries and a few liters of apple juice. After that, I was back on the levee and rode the rest of the distance at an easy pace.

The next morning: I was amazed that nothing was hurting and I didn’t have any muscle cramps. With just a few hours of sleep, I felt entirely rested. Luckily. Because I was just entering the Rhöns (a central German mountain range), and they’re something else. The climbs brought me down to 8 kilometers per hour or less. Downhill, it was so steep and winding that I couldn’t let the Quest pick up speed and had to waste all that built-up energy. It’s a lesson in patience. After four straight hours of riding, I had gone only 60 kilometers. Often I had to stop partway down a hill to cool off the brakes because they were overheating and fading, so that the braking distance was stretching way out. As good and reliable as drum brakes are, this is where they hit their limits. I slept like a rock that night in the youth hostel at Rotenburg on the Fulda, where all the kids took a close look at my Quest when I arrived.

Sept 14.2007: Stopping to cool the brakes in the early morning at the descent from the Hornberg (Schwäbische Alb). Photo: Martin Keller.

The next day began with pea-soup fog. It dampens all noises, and it’s a real experience to ride along in the total silence. The road led along the Lake Eder in the direction of Erwitte, where I wanted to meet up with someone I knew, to take a drive in his electric VW Golf. Shortly before that, however, I was stopped by the police in Geseke, because I was riding on a slight downhill at “only” about 30 km per hour, and in the officer’s opinion, I was required to use the bike path. My Quest takes to bike paths like the Devil takes to holy water, and so I avoid them whenever I can. After an exchange of letters, the matter of the fine was finally settled shortly before Christmas. After a test-ride in the ElectroGolf and a stop for coffee, the rest of the day was spent in a burst of riding through the Pampa flatland to Hilter bei Osnabrück, where I have some more relatives.

It looked as if the nice weather was thinking of changing. Thick clouds spread across the morning sky. But what is a velomobile for? Astonishingly, the whole morning remained dry, and it wasn’t until ten minutes past the border into the Netherlands that the rain started. The Quest’s foam skirt keeps even heavy rain out, but your head (at least if you go through life with as little hair as I do) must be protected against overcooling. But then, to my amazement, at the very first country road, a big “No Cycling” sign stands out. My entire itinerary was based on the assumption that I could follow the country roads from city to city. Was that going to work on the Dutch bikeways? In fact, it does work quite nicely, and there is no comparison between the bikeways there and the German ones. Considerably wider, and not just squeezed in where there’s a little room left. Of course, even here the pedestrians just wander across the bikeway, there are some sharp curves to maneuver around, and the surface is often not entirely pleasant for someone who is used to leaning back on the headrest. A couple of times I lost my way, because there isn’t always adequate signage even here, but finally, around dusk, I found myself in Ymte’s kitchen, and enjoyed a tasty supper, a lovely shower, and a bed, in which I quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Sept 18.2007: Ymte with his daughter, on the way to pre-school. Photo: Martin Keller.

Now I had the opportunity to take my bike apart for two days under skilled guidance. It turned out that one of the bearings in the rear axle had loosened, which allowed the whole system too much play, and caused my shifting to take on a life of its own. We were able to repair it, and there is always more one thing or another to work on, so I was busy for the whole two days.

Sept 19.2007: Theo in Velomobiel’s factory. Photo: Martin Keller.

Four of us set out together on the ride to Biebertal. Ymte had loaded at least 20 kg of apples into his Quest, along with ingredients for a group supper, but was still so hot on his wheels that I could hardly keep up. Allert had pulled down his special Quest helmet low over his face, leaving just a narrow slit between his foam skirt and his helmet to look through.

Sept 19.2007: Allert merged aerodynamically with his Quest. Photo: M. Keller.

We flew in tight formation over the Dutch bikeways. After every sharp curve (and there were some of those), I had to pedal furiously to close the gaps that opened up. Finally, we arrived in Winterswijk and encountered a whole plaza full of velomobiles. From here, the convoy would set out the next morning. After a large shared supper, a little beer or two, with some shop talk in the evening, we all found our place on the floor and crept into our sleeping bags

Sept 19.2007 Ymte in Winterswijk on a prototype for a new four-wheeled velomobile. Photo: Martin Keller.

Mark Burgers had worked out a new route to allow a parade of some 30 velomobiles to snake its way to Biebertal without causing chaos on the country roads. All in all, it worked out pretty well, even when those of us in the rear kept being wondering where it would all end, as the rider in front of us would disappear into an inconspicuous gap in a hedge. But the route actually did keep bringing us closer to our destination.

Sept 20.2007 Departure of the convoy in Winterswijk. Photo: Martin Keller.

The landscape along the route was certainly one of the loveliest that you could imagine. For a long time, it ran along a canal, completely away from the traffic noise, but with a

20.09.2007 Pause for de-watering. Photo: Martin Keller.

We made an interesting stop in Waltrop, where we toured the Hase-Spezialräder trike factory, which is housed in a fascinating old half-timbered building, with the boss giving us the tour in person.

Sept 20.2007 Arrival at Spezialräder Photo: Wim Schermer

Sept 20.2007 The final assembly area at Hase Spezialräder Photo: Wim Schermer

Further along the way, we completely plugged up a village street where a steep climb brought our convoy to a crawl. A friendly policeman caught up with us and convinced us that it would be better to continue on in smaller groups, to give the cars a chance to pass. So we divided up into three groups and proceeded in time-separated platoons

Sept 20.2007 Police action against too-slow riding. Photo: Wim Schermer

We spent the night in cabins at a campground on Lake Sorpe. While some of us showered, the thoroughly-sweaty took a refreshing bath in the lake.

On Friday, we started out in three groups right from the beginning to minimize the collateral damages. On this day, we learned that even an off-road Quest mission is possible, albeit with some curses against the riders.

Sept 21.2007 Lunch break. Photo: Kees van de Wetering

On the climb into the Rothaar mountains, we came across a speedy reporter who was overjoyed for once to find something in her region worth reporting, and so I got to give the first press interview of my life. I’ve noticed, that the newspapers are quite interested in reporting on velomobiles. We should keep that in mind for future events and invite the press. There must be a lot of people who are interested in an alternative means of transportation, but who have simply never come in contact with velomobiles

Sept 21.2007 A short interview along the way. Photo: Kees van de Wetering

But back to the tour. After riding nicely around the muddy spots and puddles in the beginning, by the end, nobody had any mercy for the poor asphalt-racers, which they drove right on through the ubiquitous obstacles. The high point came in the last two kilometers up to the Forest Lodge. Here, the forest lane had been thoroughly washed away by a passing storm, leaving gullies up to 20 centimeters deep that turned it into a velomobile hell.

Sept 21.2007 Offroad-segment. Photo: Martin Keller.

But even that was passable; at least, everyone made it to the Forest Lodge by Friday evening, and the a jumble of velomobiles which, with their bright colors, reminded one of a spilled bag of Smarties candies was admired and discussed, and the newest upgrades were introduced.

Sept 22.2007 The velomobile parking lot at the Forest Lodge. Photo: Martin Keller.

Sept 22.2007 The velomobile parking lot at the Forest Lodge. Photo: Martin Keller.

On Saturday at the Velomobile Meeting, there’s a traditional velomobile Excursion (together from the Forest Lodge) on the agenda. First, before the ride down, we took a census: this year, there were at the Meeting: 17 Quests, 6 Mangos, 4 Cab-Bikes, 4 Go-Ones, 3 Cab-Bike Speedster, 3 Leitras, one C-Alleweder, one Leiba Briese, one Milan und one WAW. In addition, there were a few participants with folding- and (some home-built) recumbent bikes. Before the Excursion, little groups assembled around the vehicles and looked over the latest modifications and improvements that the individual owners had made in the past year.

Sept 22.2007 Excursion; here you can see how beautiful, and how low, the Milan (in the center) actually is. Cab-Bike (left), Leiba Briese (right). Photo: Martin Keller.

Although the ride has always gone in previous years into the center of Giessen, we rode somewhat further this year, to Marburg this year. This took us along narrow, paved, but lightly-traveled roads through forest and fields. And then, during a descent through the forest, it happened. Naturally, no velomobile rider brakes unnecessarily, and everyone enjoys riding full-tilt downhill. But does one have to do that on a test-ride in a builder’s prototype in one’s first few kilometers? According to the later reconstruction of the event, the Leiba braked, which was noticed too late by the rider of the prototype Speedster. He braked hard and skidded off, but not without a little tap on the tail of the Leiba Briese. This sufficed to launch the Speedster into the air, and it tumbled over, then finally came to rest. Other than a shock and a few little scrapes, nothing happened to the rider. Luckily, Cab-Bike had built a carbon-fiber roll-bar into this prototype. It was partly cracked, but it had absorbed part of the impact, which would otherwise have come directly on the head of the rider. This event demonstrated to me that roll protection for a velomobile is an essential feature that can save the rider’s life. The rounded shape of our velomobiles leads to roll-overs, and the head of the rider must not be left unprotected. I can only say that all manufacturers of head-out vehicles should think it over, and offer only velomobiles with roll-over protection. This can be accomplished, as in the Quest, Milan or Leiba x-stream, combined with an aerodynamic headrest that also decreases the wind resistance and simply looks good. Another important factor that contributed to this accident is the absence of brakelights on almost all velomobiles. Naturally, they are not required for bikes, and I don’t actually know whether they would be legally-permitted, but it can eliminate the delay in warning the traffic behind you that you are braking. A brakelight should at least be available as an option.

Sept 22.2007 Excursion: the Cab-Bike Speedster shortly before the crash. (Photo: M. Keller)

…… and afterward. The top can withstand more than I would have thought. Photo: M. Keller.

(Editorial remark: the testrider John Kulijs left the manufacturer sitting with the damages. Before test-rides, it’s a good idea to have a signed declaration of responsibility.)

After the damaged Cab Bike Speedster and its still weak-kneed rider were transported to Marburg, our ride continued.

Excursion. A parade of velomobiles winds its way through the landscape. Photo:M. Keller

In Marburg, we parked on the central plaza and had the opportunity to talk with each other and with some of the other interested members of the velomobile forum, as well as answering the inquiries of the locals.

Sept 22.2007 Excursion: The “Rain test” in Marburg. Photo: Martin Keller.

Sept 22.2007 Excursion: Black is beautiful. The red reflective stripes do themselves proud. Photo: Martin Keller.

The way back led along another, partly unpaved stretch, finally coming out two or three kilometers before the Forest Lodge at the starting line for the legendary hill race. It’s really a wild idea, to run a velomobile race on a course that is so totally unsuited to velomobiles. First uphill along the street, and then turning off into a forest lane, on gravel, relatively steep up the hill. This stretch rules out high speeds, so the victory goes not to the one who is last to brake but the one who pedals hardest. This year, that was Arjen van Dam. The prize for his victory: he got to cut the cake -- in the shape of a Cab-Bikes (a new model in delta configuration?).

Sept 22.2007 The Cab-Bike Cake in all its glory. Photo: Martin Keller.

Sept 22.2007 Arjen cutting the cake. Photo: Martin Keller.

With a break for supper, there was a roundtable discussion on a variety of themes. Among them, a discussion of how a reasonable velomobile lighting system should look. It was amazing to me how much the requirements of the different riders varied. The extreme is represented by Hans Wessels, whose 5W Halogen is far more than adequately bright, and I, who enhanced my lighting with a 24W HID motorcycle headlight and a 10W high beam, and am now satisfied. At least it’s apparent that there’s something going on in the lighting sector, even though the German legal system hasn’t caught up with it yet, and each velomobile rider has to decide whether to be somewhat visible or to ride through the neighborhood in conformity with the law. Hans Wessels also gave a talk on his experiences on the Paris-Brest-Paris ride, 1200 kilometers straight through, for me an unimaginable accomplishment.

Sept 22.2007 Evening discussion session. Photo: Wim Schermer

Paulus den Boer showed the whole group his „Pimp-my-Quest“-projects: aerodynamic mirror fairings that blink, bird calls as a warning bell, a main switch for the on-board electronics that is linked to the position of the steering column, and naturally the demanding production of his 3D designs for the „Quesjer“ (pronounced Quescher), that is completely covered with a swarm of flying fish by M.C. Escher.

Sept 22.2007 Paulus in the„Quesjer“. Photo: Martin Keller.

Sunday morning began very early for some: Matthias und Baulchen started out before sunrise with their Quests, because they wanted to ride the more than 400 km to Urach / Augsburg in a single day. I allowed myself more time and left along with Peter Noll. We rode following our noses, but without any major detours, as far as Gelnhausen, where we went our separate ways. The weather remained good to us, and the sun accompanied us the whole time. Peter showed me the way to the Kinzig bikeway, a lovely, wide, not-too-bumpy, almost level, long-distance bike path. The many sharp curves, the numerous Sunday riders, and the not entirely even surface, that kept me from leaning my head back were enough to make me flee quickly back to the road. From the Kinzig valley, the way led over the Sinn Valley, where I came into Würzburg that evening, fairly done in. The smaller places to stay were already closed, the Bavarian youth hostels don’t accept travelers of my age touring alone, and all I wanted was a shower and a nice bed. So I turned to a chain hotel, where I was even allowed to park the Quest in (!) the entryway, and fell promptly to sleep.

Sept 22.07: Ymte and Baulchen talking during the velomobile traffic jam. Photo: M. Keller

The next morning began with a really thick pea-soup fog. I fairly quickly found the small country road that led out of the city, and felt my way through the fog. Here, for the first time, I really appreciated my rear foglights, which made it possible for the cars (often traveling too fast for the conditions) to see me. Shortly before Ochsenfurt I left the Main River and traveled in the direction of Taubertal. The upper reaches of the Tauber river are splendid, but why can’t the road designers manage to run a road more or less level through a valley? In every village it led downhill, requiring braking, then around a curve, only to climb sharply up again at the end of town. Streets like that can begin to wear on the mood of a rider with a fully-loaded velomobile. In Rothenburg (an ancient walled city that is a major tourist destination), a whole busload of tourists stared at me. It must be really awful to live like a zoo animal in that city. In Feuchtwangen, once the Frankenhöhe heights were conquered, everything else was a gentle downhill. Since the fun of velomobile riding is proportional to the speed, that was when I could really enjoy the many kilometers. Wassertrüdingen and Oettingen just flew past. But then I suddenly felt weak and had to stop for a rest, realizing at the same time that I was in urgent need of some bushes. So, back into the Quest, away from the road and into the brush, where with shaking legs I just made it. Was I going to end up sick, just 100 km from home? Luckily, that wasn’t the case. Something hadn’t been quite right, but after my stomach had cleared itself out, everything was more or less in order, and I could continue riding. For the stretch from Harburg to Donauwörth I had to consider yet another alternative. The B25 is really not much fun. There are trucks (lorries) all over, and the road is not very wide. As I approached the tunnel in Harburg, there was an ugly “Bicyclists Forbidden” sign there. And the path that was provided for cyclists climbed extremely steeply in the wrong direction. And I just wanted to keep going downhill toward the Danube. So; eyes closed and onward. The tunnel is no problem. It’s downhill and at 70 km/hour, I’m not endangering or obstructing anyone. But then afterward on the level, with much-too-narrow streets, trucks behind me that can’t pass, that’s just stress, and not fun. So, nothing to do with riding down on this road. A little country road also leads straight Donauwörth. What my map didn’t clearly show: you shouldn’t build curves in steeply climbing and descending roads. I crept up the extreme climbs, only to overheat my brakes on the descents. Finally reaching the Lech valley, I felt that I was as good as home. But what was that? On the horizon, a black wall arose, with flash after flash of lightning. The closer I came to home, the nearer the storm front approached. When I had finally unloaded and put away my bike, the wind was already blowing in my face. Its full force didn’t ever hit though, and we remained spared from the storm.

All in all, it was a wonderful tour with terrific experiences, with many nice people to meet. And about the weather, I can only say, when angels travel … (according to a German saying, the weather will be nice). Velomobiles are very well-suited to bike tours. It’s just that the drum brakes, which heat up so easily on heavily-loaded descents are a weak point. But for that, I’ve signed up for Elmi’s group order and will be getting a drogue chute, which will eliminate this problem. The comfortable seating position, the independence from the weather, the rapid progress make cycling vacations with a velomobile an unforgettable experience.

Sept 22.2007 Example of a drogue parachute. Photo: Martin Keller

Martin Keller