CYCLING.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume VII, Issue 318, 27 August 1896, Page 2

CYCLING.

STILL ANOTHER PATENT TYRE. A new leather tyre has made its appearance in Brooklyn, America, and, judging from the test which took place, this non-puncturable tube is one of the best on the market. The test took place to satisfy a capitalist whom the inventor is trying to interest in the tyre. The asphalt of Elm Street was strewn with broken glass from sodawater bottles, placed with their jagged ends up, and a lot of lOoz tacks were placed on the ground, pointsup. A tandem fitted with a pair of the tyres that have been used steadily since last November was then run over the tacks and glass The riders weighed together nearly 3501 b, and the machine was run over the obstacles a dozen or more times, each time the tyres picking up tacks. Finally, the front tyre became deflated, one of the tacks had evidently been driven through the leather by repeated poundings, as the wheel went round and round. About sixty tacks were pulled out of each tyre, but the rear tyre remained hard. All the tacks were pulled out, and the tandem returned to Brooklyn without having the tyre pumped up, the tape being put on to prevent it from creeping. This is claimed as another advantage for the tyre. They are made of sole leather, and have a rubber inner tube cemented to the leather shoe. MULGA BILL’S BICYCLE. By A. B. Paterson (“The Banjo”) in the Sydney Mail. ’Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that caught the cycling craze, He turned away the good old horse that served him many days, Ho dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen, He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine ; And »s he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride, The grinning shop assistant said, “Excuse me, can you ride ? ” “ See here, young man,” said Mulga Bill, “ from Walgctt to the sea, From Conroy’s Gap to Castlcreagh, there’s none can ride like like me. I’m good all round at everything, as everybody knows, Although I’m not the one to talk, I hate a man that blows But riding is my special gift, my chieftest, sole delight; Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wild cat can it fight. There’s nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel, There’s nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel, But what I’ll sit, while hide will hold, and girths and straps are tight. I’ll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight.” ’Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that sought his own abode, That perched above the Dead Man’s Creek, beside the mountain road. He turned the cycle down the hill, and mounted for the fray, But, ere he’d gone a dozen yards, it bolted clean away. It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver streak, It whistled down the awful slope, towards the Dead Man’s Creek. It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box, The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks. The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground, As Mulga Bill, as white as chalk,, sat tight to every bound, It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree, Itraced beside a precipice,as closeas close could be, And then, as Mulga Bill let out one last despairing shriek, It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dead Man’s Creek. ’Twas Mulga Bill, from Eaglehawk, that slowly swam ashore. He said, “I’ve had some narrer shaves and lively rides before ; I’ve rode a wild bull round a yard, to win a fivepound bet, But that was the most awful ride that I’ve encountered yet. I’ll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it’s shaken all my nerves, • To feel it whistle through the air, and plunge and buck and swerve. It’s safe at rest in Dead Man’s Creek, we’ll leave . it lying still; A horse’s hack is good enough henceforth for Mulga BiU.” .. . I 1.-.. ■' ; . .. ... .

At last week’s meeting of the committee of the Auckland Amateur Athletic and Cycling Club, Mr C. Jones, in reply to the local secretary (Mr W. C. Speight), wrote stating that he feared there would be little or no prospect of a cycle meeting being held in conjunction with the forthcoming championship gathering, to beheld in Auckland in February next, owing to there being no suitable track here, riders not caring to ride on the grass. Surely it is time something was done in the direction of providing an asphalt or cement track for this city. Palmer, an English cyclist, has put up a world’s track record for 100 miles—4hrs 47min 47 3 ssec.

. Parsons has made several engagements (says The Cycle') for his European tour. His present list holding good, he will open in Paris for a fortnight, proceeding then either to London or Copenhagen. If to the former, he will ride a series of time tests, but will do no racing. If he goes direct to Copenhagen he will fix up events with several of the leading Continental riders, and will take part in events at a mile, five, and ten miles, together with rides against the watch. Parsons, we may add, has been guaranteed a large sum if he will visit, in turn, New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia, but has not made up his mind upon the matter of crossing to the land of the Stars and Stripes. A tax on bicycles is urged by the Waimea (Nelson) Primrose League, because (1) they are getting so numerous as to become a nuisance; (2) are injurious to farmers, horsebreeders, saddlers, blacksmiths, etc.; and (3) are purely a luxury, and one likely to become general. A novel brake has just been introduced. It is a narrow brush about a foot long, clamped to the back fork above the chain, which is ridden rather slacker than usual, and so adjusted that when pressure is put on the pedals it just clears the chain. When back-pedalling the chain is pulled up against the brush. Down steep hills marvellous control of the machine is obtained, and when travelling fast the machine can be pulled up with remarkable celerity. It also has the effect of keeping the chain clean and bright, whith means additional speed. Local cyclists are growling every day because they have not a suitable track to train on. They don’t like the slippery grass track any more than cyclists in other parts of the world do. As athletics (running, walking, jumping, etc.) are now quite subsidiary to cycling, which has bounded in front of athletics in public favour, the local cyclists should form a company to put down a dry track. If a separate cash cycle club were formed, and a suitable piece of ground leased near town, influential city men would take up shares, because when professional cycle meetings are held the “ gate ” is a very profitable item. >l£ prizes (money, of course) of fair value were offered, we would have several speedy cyclists over from Sydney. Cycling would then take on as much as football does at present; but the local cyclists will have to bestir themselves, and it is no use them trying to emulate Micawber by waiting for something to turn up. The Manawatu cyclists, as soon as they decided for a suitable track, were not long in interesting the business people in the town in the project, and they soon acquired a suitable bit of property—one of the most picturesque spots in N.Z. — and laid down a real good track, which can be cemented or asphalted at any time. If the Avondale Jockey Clnb were cute they would provide the cycling enthusiasts of Auckland with a track. There’s money in it.