Bicycling, for most, was much more fun than the rather tedious practice of regimental gymnastics and other forms of calisthenics. It was more sociable and freeing—a form of transportation as well as of exercise—and it could be practiced in the open air, on country or city roads, in parks or along urban parkways (as in this photograph taken on Riverside Drive, New York City, sometime in the 1890s), alone or with friends. Bicycling did not require expensive clothing or equipment; unlike horse riding or golf, it was relatively democratic and available to many.
Physicians debated the health benefits and hazards of bicycling, especially for women. Some hailed it as the century’s greatest contribution to health, a cure for dyspepsia, anemia, obesity, asthma, varicose veins, heart disease, and diabetes, among other ills. Bicycling, some said, could free a person from any craving for artificial stimulants or narcotics; it could cure nervousness, conquer insomnia, and bring families together as husband, wife, and children all bicycled together.
Others warned of the possible dangers of the bicycle. Bicyclists could run into each other, or into horses, lampposts, or pedestrians; “Death by the Wheel” was a new heading in obituary columns. There were also the “diseases of cycling”: “kyphosis bicyclistarum”—otherwise known as “cyclist’s spine” or “cyclist’s stoop”—“bicycle hernia,” “bicycle heart,” “cyclist’s neurosis,” “cyclist’s sore throat,” and even “bicycle face”—the strained, set look brought on by the “incessant tension” of maintaining one’s balance on a 2-wheeled machine.
The fact that women took to the bicycle with great enthusiasm generated decidedly mixed responses. Robert Latou Dickenson, a New York obstetrician, argued that bicycling was the best single exercise for strengthening the pelvis and promoting healthy childbearing. Others feared that women enamored of their bicycles would reject childbearing altogether. They worried that women bicyclists were casting aside their corsets and high heels in favor of various forms of more natural dress—from relatively modest split skirts to “unfeminine” knickerbockers or bloomer-type outfits.2 But the new women bicyclists were not to be deterred. As Marie E. Ward explained in 1896, “the bicycle supplies . . . a new pleasure—the pleasure of going where one wills, because one wills. . . . Riding the wheel, our own powers are revealed to us. . . . You have conquered a new world, and exultingly you take possession of it.”3
