Bamboo Commuter

For some time now I’ve been interested in bikes and cycling.  Watching the Tour de France started as a nine year old in my French Teacher Mr Salt’s class in primary school.  When July came around and the exams had finished, Le Tricolour with its stories of life in La Rochelle, would be mentally thrown out of the open windows and the big TV would be rolled in to replace it.  Salty would pop in the highlight real from the previous day’s action on the country roads of France and I’d stare at the terrific speed of their descents in the Alps.  Once term had finished my brother and I would oil our heavy mountain bike chains and head off into the Peak District hills and try to emulate the same exploits we’d seen on screen.  Often flying passed motorists and across junctions with no care for personal safety.  When I reached London at 25 I purchased my first road bike and once I’d mastered staying vertical on it I fell in love with climbing the famous Cols and mountains of the Pyrenees.

Unfortunately when I reached Africa my trusty Trek stayed back in my London flat but the passion has not dimmed and thanks to South African Satellite TV I was able to watch Bradley and Chris win the 99^th and 100^th Tours respectively from my little African cottage.  Africa may not have many representatives in Le Tour, however as you drive down the roads it appears to have a deep reliance of cycling.  Wherever you go it’s impossible not to spot men pushing all manner of items around on the back of their steel bicycles.  Or children riding bikes often twice the size of them at unimaginable speeds weaving between cattle and cars on their way to school.  Africa is also home to some of the most imaginative and entrepreneurial people I’ve met, which is why when I heard about a locally made bike crafted from home grown bamboo and bark-cloth I had to investigate.

After some detective work on rather sketchy internet sites and endless journeys into the hectic and labyrinth like parts of the seven hills of Old Kampala, I finally tracked down a man named Mr Malamata at a place called the Entrepreneurs Institute of Technology.  The following Saturday I printed off a map and made my way over there pulling up on a quiet street alongside a roadside stall selling what seemed to be just three avocados and a live chicken.  Stepping over a trampled down fence I stumbled into a small compound filled with local Heath Robinson style hydroponics, local beetroot wine production and a small internet café.  There appeared to be no one in sight but I knew I’d found the right place as above a door into what appeared to be a workshop was an ancient French sign depicting the Michelin Man riding a bicycle.  After much searching I finally came upon a lady sitting on an old and very decrepit running machine who informed me Mr Charles was out looking for bamboo, which sounded promising and gave me his number.  I organised a follow up meeting for the Monday whilst threading my way back to the car.

The next day I did a little extra research on Bamboo Bikes and found an interesting link between ‘Mr Charles’ and Craig Calfee; the Carol Shelby of bike design.  It appeared that back in the mid-90’s Calfee travelled to Africa and noted that there was a market for locally made, locally sourced bikes.  He took it upon himself to set up this venture with Mr Malamata promising to import a large number to the US, where thanks to the growing interest in Carbon Neutral living, he started selling them for $3,000 apiece.  I therefore approached the workshop the following day nervous for my wallet.

Monday arrived I found myself back amongst the mind of a widely creative man as he explained the process and stages of building a bamboo frame.  “First of-f all” he told me “we tack the pieces together to check the dimensions.  Then we are lapping the connections in epoxy soaked bark croth, and final-ly comes the shaping stage.”  At this point the hardened bark cloth (Ugandan specialty) is hand shaped through sanding, to a smooth and aerodynamic shape.  Whereupon the first coat of resin is sprayed on the whole frame to protect it from termites and weather.  As the resin dries the bark cloth takes on the appearance of polished walnut and gives the frame the most magnificent appearance.  More like a piece of carefully crafted furniture than a commuter’s tool.  All this work takes the builder – who is also a keen cyclist – just a week, and before I knew it I had the finished article in my hands ready to be fitted out with the other essentials.  And so after seven days wait and only $350 lighter I stumbled out of the hidden entrance to the Aladdin’s cave grasping my new bamboo bicycle frame to my chest like a new born baby and carefully strapped it into the backseat of the Land Rover, unsure whether I was going to add wheels or hang it on my wall.