I was surprised that I'd never heard of this before.  In 1892, an adventuresome accountant from Pittsburgh named Frank Lenz decided to ride his bicycle around the world.   Starting in his home town, looping through New York City and then heading west across North America, he would take in the sites and see the world.  Taking a brief hiatus, he shipped to Honolulu and then Japan before tackling a westward crossing of the massive and dangerous Asian continent.  As the title of David V. Herlihy's biography, The Lost Cyclist, suggests, Lenz didn't quite make it all the way.

Herlihy, a bicycle historian, starts the story at the beginning of the bicycling craze in the United States, following the introduction of the bicycle in 1866 by Frenchman Pierre Lallement.   In hindsight it all seems rather quaint, but being able to fly across the countryside at more than 20 miles per hour, completely under ones own power was considered quite the thrill.  Lenz began his cycling career riding the old fashioned "high wheel" bicycles with the massive front wheel connected directly to the pedals, becoming an accomplished racer of these dangerous machines.   From a twenty-first century perspective, one may think that riding this kind of bicycle carries an unfortunately high dork quotient, but these racers were some seriously tough and fearless athletes.  It was this level of gutsiness that led to the subsequent creation of the Tour de France and the incredible sagas that unfolded in the first half of the twentieth century.   They made today's "extreme" sports participants look like wimps.

Lenz was not the first to make an around-the-world attempt and Herlihy also tells the story of William Sachtelben and Thomas Allen, who were finishing their eastward circumnavigation while Lenz was just getting started going in the opposite direction.   Like Lenz, these men were seeking a way to gain fame and fortune, hoping to cash in by publishing their story and hitting the lecture circuit.   These kinds of stories were all the rage, as bicycling was becoming incredibly popular and manufacturers couldn't keep the machines in stock.   By the time these men set out on their adventures, the new "safety" bicycle was available, which provided the riders with modern features like a chain connecting the pedals to the back wheel and two equal diameter wheels covered by air-filled tires.

Pulling together a vast collection of historical documents and diaries, Herlihy does a fine job of displaying the passion these men had for bicycling.  In particular he shows Lenz's almost naïve approach to life, believing that he could pretty much bike anywhere on any surface.  If he came to a river, he'd heft his bike over his head and cross it; if the mud was too deep, he'd get off and push; if the mountain was too steep, he'd hire some men to carry it for him.  During one stretch of his trip through China, he walked his bike almost 500 miles because the conditions were so poor.   Lenz also took great joy in seeing new places and repeatedly stated his desire to bring the world's people together through travel and adventure.   Unfortunately, not everyone he met was of the same mindset.

Two things set Lenz apart from the other circumnavigators, the fact that he was crazy enough to try this alone and his photographic skills.   As if his heavy bike wasn't enough, he lugged a heavy camera and took plenty of pictures for Outing magazine along the way.   Many of these are included in the book, including some fine self portraits. 

Despite successfully crossing China, Burma, India and Persia, Lenz disappeared in eastern Turkey and the second half of the book is spent trying to figure out what became of the man.  Given his previous Turkish cycling experience, William Sachtelben was placed in charge of the investigation, but his diplomatic and investigative skills were not equal to his cycling and self-promotional talents.   The book definitely starts to drag at this point as it leaves behind cycling and explores the less interesting topics of international diplomacy and Turkish jurisprudence.   I kept reading because I found Lenz to be a very charismatic figure, but I didn't enjoy it as much as the first half. 

As an avid cyclist, I didn't have any trouble finding this cycling story entertaining, and I do think it also works as an interesting historical saga.   Unfortunately, I'm not sure that Herlihy's linear and at times rather dry storytelling skills are quite up to the task.  Non-cyclist readers may find that it drags a bit and that his descriptions of cycling through country after country get old rather quickly.

One of the reasons that Herlihy wrote this book was to bring attention to this great American adventure story, which arguably approaches the danger and intensity of various polar expeditions, mountain top summits or transoceanic air flights.  In The Lost Cyclist, he does justice to Frank Lenz's forgotten legacy, shedding light on the man's enthusiasm and his belief in the unity of humankind.    A fitting tribute to one of the great cyclists of the all too brief "Golden Age" of American cycling. 



Other cycling books:

Bobke II -- Bob Roll  *****
We Might As Well Win -- Johan Bruyneel  ****
Bicycle Diaries -- David Byrne  ***
A Dog in a Hat -- Joe Parkin  **

Recommended: Yes