Customer Reviews

The Lost Cyclist: The Epic Tale of an American Adventurer and His Mysterious Disappearance

5 star:		(12)
4 star:		(17)
3 star:		(9)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

L.P. Hartley began a novel with the sentence: "The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there." And in his new book, "The Lost Cyclist," noted cycling historian David Herlihy introduces us to a most peculiar world, albeit with elements that we would still recognize. The book is actually two stories The first deals with Frank Lenz, a young bookkeeper from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, who became a noted high-wheel bicycle racer in the late 1880s before recognizing his chance for fame and fortune would really come with the advent of a new kind of bicycle, the "safety bicycle," with new-fangled pneumatic tires. Frank Lenz decided to take advantage of the new invention, then in its infancy, and using his skills as a cyclist, and as a passionate amateur photographer, his achievement would be the first around-the-world solo cycling trip on a safety bike. To this end, he sought out sponsorship and arranged with the editor of New York's "Outing" magazine to send back stories and photos of his trip, which was expected to last two years.

He began his formal launch of the around-the-world tour on May 15, 1892 from Pittsburgh, setting out with a 57 pound Overman bicycle, 13 pounds of camera gear and 25 pounds of other equipment. He headed eastwards and in New York met worked with the editor of Outing to garner maximum publicity before beginning the trip proper on June 4, heading west and crossing the United States in five months. He was 25 years old.

Although Frank Lenz may have been slight in stature, weighing 145 pounds, he was clearly, as one witness is quoted in the book as saying, "he was quite a novel person-one possessed of great pluck, energy and determination..." He told a reporter who asked about the dangers of the trip: "I have nothing but the most pleasurable anticipation of my trip abroad. I have never encountered anything yet I have not overcome."

In the telling of Lenz's story, the author is clearly charmed by his cherubic protagonist and clearly wishes us to be as well. Frank Lenz was indeed an innocent abroad, and his letters home, written in his superb bookkeeper's script, are fascinating. It is easy to forget that in 1892, most people simply did not travel to foreign countries, let alone on a bicycle. His photos of Japan, his first stop after taking a steamer from California, are marvellous and he constantly comes across as a go-ahead, can-do and very good-humoured young man.

Along with the wide-eyed wonder, however, there was definitely danger. Travelling alone, speaking no languages except English and German, he was highly vulnerable. Although his writing tended to make light of the scrapes he gets into, some of them, such as an encounter with Chinese peasants, were quite terrifying. He managed to deflect their hostility by clowning around and using his bicycle to entertain them. The Chinese, most of whom had never seen a bicycle at all, threw stones and mud at him, and he often simply avoided encounters by riding at night through cities and towns.

His long, long ride in China came to an end as he headed next towards Burma. It is here that the real dangers become evident, as the roads are impassable and he hires coolies to basically carry his bike onwards. During the crossing of a rain-swollen river, one of the bearers drowns, and the reader begins to wonder how much of a toll Frank Lenz's dream ride will eventually take.

Making his way to India, he caught up with his enormous steamer trunk, full of spare parts and equipment, and basically built up a new bicycle. He had been on the road for a year and a half in his projected two year project, and there are indications of his weariness. But he continued undaunted through India (and today's Pakistan), visiting the Taj Mahal, and, as a good egalitarian American, expressed his dismay over India's caste system.

In mid-December 1893, "he found himself mired in the Makran Desert without food, water or shelter. Fortunately, a camel caravan came to his rescue." Shortly after, he entered Persia and by April was in Tabriz, where he met the Crown Prince of Persia, Mozaffar al-Din Shah. "A technology buff, he grilled Lenz about his gear and took copious notes...the prince himself took a photo of Lenz in the royal courtyard, mounted on his bicycle."

Although local Westerners urged him to go to Europe via Russia rather than Turkey, he was only 900 miles from Constantinople, and was looking forward to cycling in Germany, his ancestral homeland, with a Pittsburgh club mate. He missed pie and ice cream and while enjoying his trip, he wrote to the editor of Outing confessing his homesickness and how he longed for his wanderings to end.

The photo by the Persian Crown Prince, showing a pensive-looking (but surprisingly well-dressed) Lenz on what even then must have been an old-fashioned bicycle, is the last known photo of the adventurer. Because after April 1894, nothing was ever heard from Frank Lenz again.

This takes us to the second part of the book. Frank Lenz's mysterious disappearance caused great concern among his friends and readers and the editor of Outing endeavoured to find someone to look for him. After some false starts, William Sachtleben, another long-distance cyclist and seemingly cut from the same cloth as Lenz, went to pick up the trail. The author intersperses an account of Sachtleben's great cycling trip, with a companion, Thomas Allen, on a pair of solid-tired bicycles, riding in the opposite direction to Lenz. This too is an interesting story and probably adds some bulk to the book, which would probably be a bit thin if only about Frank Lenz himself.

The book now moves away from cycling to the political situation in Turkey. Sachtleben demanded action from the American Embassy and, unsatisfied with the results, launches his own investigation, hoping to shed light on the disappearance of Frank Lenz, recover his body, if possible, and see that any malefactors were punished. In spite of his furious activity, Sachtleben's mission ends in failure. We never learn for certain how Lenz died, a cyclist alone in Turkey, but we do know that his route took him into an area rife with ethnic tension between Turks, Kurds and Armenians. Sachtleben himself was to witness a massacre of Armenians by Kurds, and to learn that due process of law in America was nothing like due process in Turkey. The Turks, probably to placate Sachtleben, arrested some Armenians, who were probably completely innocent of Lenz's death, and two of them died in prison, bringing the number of deaths connected to Lenz's trip to four, including his own.
David Herlihy's book is highly entertaining, with an extraordinary cast of characters, and includes truly enchanting period photos of Lenz and Sachtleben & Allen. It was an era of handlebar mustaches and dirt roads and while sepia-toned, promised bright futures to adventurous young men. The craze for the bicycle in the United States would end, probably much sooner than Sachtleben or Lenz would have imagined, and their stories quickly forgotten. The author has done copious research and "the Lost Cyclist" is not only a worthy addition to any cyclist's bookshelf, but is in itself revealing social history of a world in transition.

Full disclosure: I'm an avid bicyclist, with a small collection of bicycle-abilia, so this book had me from the title. But just because a subject is enticing doesn't always mean the book will be.

I'm pleased to report that The Lost Cyclist is a meticulously researched, fast-paced, supremely readable book that had me staying up later than I'd intended several nights in a row just so I could keep reading.

Focusing on what today is a mere footnote in cycling history, the book is really the story of two--even three--bicyclists whose exploits gripped the nation over a century ago, and only one of whom was actually lost. Frank Lenz, of the title, was an accountant and promising bicycle racer in the era of high-wheelers, but for a variety of reasons, never realized his potential. Inspired by the accounts of Thomas Stevens, who had traveled by bike on three continents and written about and sketched what he saw, Lenz aspired to cycle around the world too, only he would undertake his trip on a "safety bicycle," the new-fangled design that had two wheels of equal size and, in his case, inflatable tires. And he would travel with a camera, taking photographs of the sights.

Ambitious, entrepreneurial, intrepid and naive, Lenz successfully solicited the support of Outing magazine to underwrite his dream. He started in New York, then pedaled across the U.S. to San Francisco, where he hopped a ship to Japan and then to China. Embarking on the Asian portion of his itinerary, he encountered harsh conditions and xenophobia, particularly in China, but made his way to Burma, through India, Persia and finally to Turkey, which was experiencing considerable unrest on the eve of the Armenian massacres. And it was there that he disappeared.

Concurrently, Herlihy tells the story of cyclists Will Sachtleben and Thomas Allen, who successfully toured across Europe and into Asia from the other direction, but opted for safer modes of transportation where necessary. They too published an account of their tour.

When it was clear that Lenz was missing, Outing's publisher dispatched Sachtleben to Turkey to try to piece together what had happened to him. The political situation and Sachtleben's own impetuous temperament impeded his mission, but he returned home with some idea of Lenz's fate.

Herlihy has painted a vivid picture of 1890s America and the craze for bicycles, as well as the realities of bicycle touring before paved roads (the League of American Wheelmen was instrumental in promoting paved roads long before cyclists were forced to share them with cars) and in remote, largely unexplored regions of countries that had seen few foreign visitors. It's a testament to his skill as a writer and researcher that despite the intervening 115 or so years, he brings his main characters to life and makes you feel as if you know them. I kept thinking that there's potential for a movie in this story, though I'm sure Herlihy and his publisher already have that covered.

My only quibbles are minor. The narrative slows a bit in the second half, where Sachtleben is in Turkey, and Herlihy uses uncommon foreign terms that are not always defined (or if they were, I missed the explanations), and I didn't always get the gist from the context. (What is the porte in Turkey? I guessed that it was its governing body but don't remember seeing it explained.) Because I was reading an advance reading copy, I didn't have the benefit of the index to help me find the terms. It may be that the final book will have a glossary as well, which would be a welcome addition. I also had some trouble keeping track of all the minor players who came and went. Again, having the index could have helped me refresh my memory.

The index will be addressed in the final book, so it's moot for most readers, and overall, I highly recommend this book for anyone interested in history, travel and adventure and especially bicycling. It's a damn good tale, well-told.

I was not aware of the events portrayed in this book. Further, I haven't been on a bicycle in several decades. The former was set right by the reading of this book. The latter is something I hope continues.

Herlihy's writing of the dawn of bicycle racing and foreign treks via two-wheels was quite enlightening. The story of Frank Lenz's journey was spotty due to the limited communications from him due to his locations. And, of course, much of the story of his disappearance must be conjecture.

There are different styles of writing here. Much is reportorial and many times doesn't really capture the emotion of the people in the story. Herlihy lost several opportunities to draw us closer to the locations described.

The photographs are great and significantly add to the book. The few maps included, however, do far too little to graphically show not only the locations, but also the great distances and geographical challenges Lenz and the others faced. Since those challenges were a major part of the book, more graphic information would have really added to the story.

The epilogue is mainly too philosophical and of little help in closing the story. Hindsight is, proverbially, twenty-twenty and postmortems are of necessity full of speculation. These what-ifs did not really add to the book.

Another negative was the continued use of certain buzz words. Too often I felt I was reading a story by a sports writer. I love sports, but their overuse of the same descriptive words is legend. After so many instances of 'globe girdler' and similar by Herlihy, I was ready to scream. The four stars are for the story being told. The writing, though, wasn't up to that level.

This should be of interest to readers with an interest in many fields - bicycling, travel, history, etc. The negatives don't outweigh the reading this little known story.

The Lost Cyclist purports to be the tale of Frank Lenz, a young man who attempted in 1892 to ride his bicycle around the world, though it ends up being more about another rider named William Sachtlebend.

Lenz was not the first to attempt circling the globe by bicycle -- that honor belongs to Thomas Stevens, who had famously accomplished the task between 1884 and 1886 on an "ordinary" bicycle (the archaic design with a big front wheel and tiny rear wheel). For this, he is still remembered and copies of his book on the subject can still be found (Around The World On A Bicycle Volume 1 - Thomas Stevens). Also before Lenz, the team of Thomas Allen and William Sachtlebend repeated Stevens's feat, via an even more impressive route that took them across the Gobi desert. Their trip lasted from 1891 to 1893. Lenz's task was the most audacious of them all, over the most grueling and dangerous terrain, and his desire to complete the trip solo was brave, though perhaps also his undoing.

The bulk of this book relates Allen's and Sachtlebend's adventures and what is known of Lenz's trip. The latter is fragmentary, as two years into the trip, Lenz disappeared in Turkey.

In the face of intermittent public outcry for an investigation,Lenz's publisher eventually hired William Sachtlebend to travel to the site and investigate, and his experiences there form the second portion of the book.

We will never know precisely what happened to Frank Lenz, and this lack of closure weakens the book somewhat. A larger problem is that the story never seems to be about anything much bigger than Sachtlebend and Lenz. An excellent biography can use the lesson of a person's life to ruminate on morality, the fate of nations, the march of technology, or any other theme worth considerating. This is really only the story of some brave young men, one of whom lived and one of whom died, but neither of whom was fated to be remembered, because their greatest accomplishment was sure to be outshadowed by that of Thomas Stevens.

Herlihy is a great researcher, not perhaps as strong a writer. This book will be of interest mostly to cyclists and perhaps to some with an interest in the Ottoman Empire, where Lenz met his end amidst the battles between Turks and Armenians and Kurds in 1894.

Anyone up for a little bike ride? How about a 20,000 mile, two-year ride around the world? On a 50 pound bike with another 40 pounds of gear? In 1892, when there is no way to call for help if something goes wrong, and you may be the only English-speaking person for a thousand miles in any direction?

This book is the astonishing account of an absolutely incredible event-- or, rather, series of events. Frank Lenz undertook that 20,000 mile trip, alone, on that 50 pound bike, and he came close to making it. He started in New York and pedaled across the US; shipped to Hawaii and Japan and pedaled across each; shipped to China and pedaled diagonally across it; shipped to India and pedaled across it and ultimately to Persia. Unfortunately, due to a combination of bad luck, bad planning, arrogance, and ignorance, he pedaled into the midst of a genocidal conflict in Turkey and was apparently murdered.

Incredibly, two other Americans, William Sachtleben and Thomas Allen, made the very nearly the same trip in the opposite direction-- including a nearly fatal twelve-day crossing of the Gobi Desert in the summer heat-- at about the same time. In fact, they and Lenz missed crossing paths in Shanghai by just a few days. After Lenz went missing, Sachtleben was hired to trek to Turkey and locate him-- or his remains. He failed, though he probably did figure out what happened.

The book is the intertwined tale of these three epic journeys. The risks these men took, the obstacles they surmounted, and the courage-- or perhaps foolhardiness-- they displayed are absolutely mind boggling. I had never heard of any of these people or of these events, but after reading this book, I will never forget them.

Why not five stars? Unfortunately, for me, the writing style doesn't do justice to the subject matter. Herlihy is certainly thorough and careful, and by telling the stories in parallel, he creates considerable dramatic tension. However, I found his syntax to be very nearly deadening. That is, his sentences seem to plod along rather than roll along. These men were undertaking some of the greatest adventures of their age, but at times, the writing makes it seem as if they were taking a train trip. Further, I found the vocabulary irritating. No one simply eats a meal; they enjoy a hearty meal. No one spends a day or two sightseeing; they tarry for a time. There are many such things, and as the book went on, I found them grating. Of courser, this is no more than a personal preference on my part, and others may not have a similar reaction.

Bottom line: I recommend this book highly, because it will more than justify the time and effort required to read it. I guarantee that you will marvel at what those men did. I just wish the writing style had done the subject matter more justice.

I enjoyed this book, but as far as storycraft goes, this book is wanting. Reading it reminded me more of reading a research paper than a historical narrative or and adventure.

First, Stevens traversed the world on a bike, sort of-- he took alternate transportation when he felt like it. Next, Sachtleben and Allen did it together, biking more. We get the blow-by-blow account which is interesting on the face of it, but not told with any particular pinache.

Then Frank Lenz attempts to traverse the world on a bike in the opposite direction as Sachtleben and Allen. Lenz is an intriguing character with bold determination. The account of his journey is again interesting in its very nature, but not recounted with much imagination.

Lenz is lost and Sachtleben goes to find him. What follows is an awkward study in international relations, human nature, and law. It takes 200 pages to lose Frank Lenz, and about 3 to account for his whereabouts. The rest (100 pages) is pin the tail on the culprit, and becomes tiresome quickly.

So while the storycraft is lacking, the events are compelling. The look at the nature of some of the world's populations around the turn of the previous century is noteworthy if somewhat discouraging. My favorite part of the book comes early on, regarding the onset of bicycling in the United States, along with the tales of Big Wheel races.

This is a fantastic story about American men pushing the limits using the newly popular bicycle. Set in the late 1880s to early 1890s, this story has it all: adventure, history, murder, mystery, greed, corruption, ego, risk, ignorance and compassion.

However, as a cyclist who has ridden thousands of miles over the past twenty-five years, I was disappointed. While Herlihy can be overly descriptive at times he leaves out plenty of details. From the beginning I wanted to know about the bicycles. How did they mount the high wheeler? What were the seats like? Their clothes? How did they prevent cramping, chaffing, etc? How did they feel after a 70-mile ride? This, mind you, is during a time when there weren't roads made specifically for bicycles or cars (there were no cars). They were muddy and rough and at times impassible. But to my dismay Herlihy left me wondering.

At times he would skim over entire treks almost like a children's story: They climbed over the mountains, followed the river until they reached their destination 300 miles later. I rarely felt like I was there, that I could really comprehend what these travelers went through.

On the other hand, he spent way too much time on some things like finding Lenz's body and the murderers. Cut back I think we still could have got the gist of it.

Herlihy also jumps around. Not having a great knowledge of geography especially at that time, it is easy to get lost and confused. A map of the area at the beginning of each chapter would have helped immensely.

But still, I couldn't put it down. He really applied his research and built a great story. He also includes other interesting points that took place during this time. Well worth the read not just by cyclists but anyone who has an interest in American history.

This book tells the story of a time in the late 1800's when the bicycle was the newest form of transportation on the planet. It intrigued me because it describes an individual's quest to cycle around the world alone and the politics involved. It's amazing that things haven't changed much in certain parts of the world and the countries that were dangerous back then are still dangerous today. It also inspired me to take up cycling as an exercise.

It's always fascinating to me to read about the various experiences that people have traveling long distances and through foreign lands. It's especially so when they travel by means of something I really love: the bicycle. If you love cycling and have a sense of adventure, you'll probably like the book, too.

In what appears to be a very well-researched work, the author describes the cycling culture of the late 1800s: the high-wheel bicycle, its growing popularity, and its increasing use as a means of sport (i.e. racing) and of travel. When the "safety" bicycle (forerunner of the modern bicycle design) begins to gain in popularity, some adventurous souls use it as a means of traveling around the world.

I quite enjoyed the background material. While I love cycling I admit I know very little of bicycle history, so this book helped fill in that void somewhat. The accounts of the various races, cycling clubs, and journey's on bicycle were fascinating.

The book is ostensibly about Frank Lenz, and intermixed with the general background material is a discussion of Lenz's background, rise to relative fame as a cyclist and bicycle racer, and desire to undertake a round-the-world adventure. The book also relates a considerable amount about a similar journey undertaken by two other cyclists, Allen and Sachtleben. This does mean that while the book contains a lot of experiences from round-the-world cycling, there was considerably less about Lenz than I thought there would be. Why this is I don't know. Perhaps it's because there is less information available about Lenz's journey and the author felt the need to provide something that illustrates the experiences of a round-the-world cyclist.

The book does bog down somewhat in its retelling of events, particularly starting with Lenz's disappearance and Sachtleben's journey to try and find out the circumstances. This takes up a little less than half of the book--a considerable amount. While it's doubtless that Sachtleben was getting frustrated with all the delays and bureaucracy he had to wade through in his investigation, I found myself getting frustrated with having to read all about it. There is very little about cycling in the second half.

Regardless, the stories and experiences of the cyclists in various lands and cultures was an interesting read. It amazes me that people would set out to circle the world on bicycle alone or in pairs, with little advance information about some of the places they'd be traveling through.

I'm an avid cyclist and it's hard to imagine that *gasp* in the past, people didn't have vast open roads to ride along and there were true adventurers that wanted to ride across the country.

Frank Lenz is an interesting figure, and I must admit that I'm envious of the journey he took at such a time and the adventure that he had. Not many people traveled around the world, let alone on a bicycle. There's this sense that Lenz headed out with a sense of naive optimism.

The photographs themselves were an added bonus. Quite frankly, if Lenz had made it around the world and published a book on his exploits, it'd be a best seller and the first of the epic travelogs.

After Lenz's disappearance, William Sachtleben was sent on the trail to find Lenz. In a way, the book takes on a different tone - it's a shift from travelog to mystery/thriller. The book does a good job at giving us a background of what was going on in Turkey at the time of Lenz' disappearance. But ultimately, Sachtleben failed to find out how Lenz died, thus leaving Lenz more infamous than famous.

The story itself is very gripping, but the writing itself lacks in some spots. IT's a bit annoying but still, the subject matter will help you ignore any deficiencies in the narrative.