Speaking of loose ends, I forgot something: the vélocipède aka the laufmaschine aka the draisine aka the dandy horse. I’ve wanted one for years. Originally planned for careening downhill at Genesee Country Village, it never made it there.

Baltimore piano maker James Stewart advertised his “TRACENA” (a mix of German and French phonetics) in February of 1819. They were touted as cheaper and safer than horses though that last bit is debatable. In New York supply could not keep up with demand. Cities began banning them from sidewalks almost immediately.

This meant offence to some ill-natured person, who rummaged up an old Law of the Corporation which to prevent damage to the pavements had a penalty of 3 Dollar for each time that a two-wheeled cart went on the foot or side pavement, and urged a constable to take a young man before the Mayor for breach of said law… Since this spiteful process, the velocipede has not been in the streets of Philadelphia.

Seventy-eight-year old Charles Wilson Peale, an avid rider, complained in his autobiography. Harvard students were known to ride the long bridge between Cambridge and Boston after dark. Amazingly, Peale built his own from scratch, mostly iron, that included a rev counter. His sons soon followed suit in wood. Peale claimed it was excellent early morning exercise, to which I can attest. Off-roading is not recommended.

The search for a builder was long and at times frustrating. Finally, I found some brave souls at Williamsburg’s Cooper and Wheelwright shop. This is not the first time I have been saved by the historic trades at Williamsburg. Paul Zelesnikar and Murphy Griffin labored mightily on the edge of wheelwright technology. They based their design on a survivor at Nicéphore Niépce House in Saint-Loup-de-Varennes, where you may try your hand riding a replica. It’s not for the faint of heart, but the adjustable saddle is a plus.

Picking up the machine from the carriage shop, I was amazed how exhausting it was riding back across Williamsburg’s green. Now that I had it, I felt I was too old to ride it.

MOAR to the rescue. In 2024, a replica of Washington’s tent returned to Baltimore’s Fort McHenry, to celebrate the 200th anniversary of Lafayette’s grand tour. Cockades affixed, Kitty and I made the shortest trip ever to an event. The park has paved trails, and even the tent staff had a go. I am pleased to report that all the terrifying period caricatures are justified. The apparatus is hard to control, especially downhill. The only brakes consist of shoe leather. There is no leaning in to turns like a modern bicycle, the heavy wooden frame and iron tires make it steer more like a boat. There are those who make it look easy. Note to self: carry a spanner as the axle nuts come loose after a hard day’s ride. The best news of all– it fits in Kitty’s Subaru. Bonus points if you spot the dandy horse in Amistad.

These horses are cheap, they are safe and do not fall without the rider’s consent