Earthblog

A review of the new Kronan
Written by Dan DeWeese for Boneshaker: A Bicycling Almanac 43-100
Friday, 10 December 2010

For the past month, I have been commuting to and from work on a Kronan bicycle in a traffic-heavy downtown urban environment. It has led to a great many moments of bicycling pleasure. Example one: riding on a busy city street during evening rush hour, I was able — due to the Kronan’s heft, my pedaling, and a slight downhill stretch — to get the bike up to speed and then pass other cyclists and two moving cars while coasting. Passing people while coasting is obnoxious behavior, not something one should be so immature as to find any particular pride in, and also: totally fun.

Example two: The rear tire went flat once while I was at work. This was due to my having accidentally left the air nozzle (which is a Scandinavian set-up that is different than other types of valve stems you usually come across in commuting and/or racing bikes) slightly loose after showing the bike to a friend. A smartly-designed metal tube on the bicycle’s side hides a hand pump, though. At the push of a button, the metal cap on the end of the tube popped out, I retrieved the pump, and re-inflated the tire. When stored, the pump returned to being invisible, a transformation my son has found hours of pleasure and amazement testing and demonstrating.

Example three: Riding home in the rain, after dark, I turned on the built-in red rear light, engaged the small generator that uses the front tire’s revolutions as a power source for the headlamp, and hit the street. The Kronan is a significantly-sized bicycle (it was born of military purposes, after all), and with the generator buzzing, the lights shining, and me sitting high in the saddle, I felt safe riding in traffic even under what are usually dangerous-for-cyclists conditions.

I am not suggesting you should do this in your own city. I don’t know where you live. I live in Portland, Oregon, and drivers here are used to cyclists in traffic. This does not mean they always see every cyclist, of course, so one of the comforts of the Kronan is that when you’re on it, you’re big. These bicycles were developed during World War II for the Swedish Army, but the soldiers brought their bikes home after the war, and the bikes remained popular. The brand was purchased in the 1990’s and the bikes are now sold around the world, but these are not lithe, light commuting bikes. The Kronan company website features smiling riders in street clothes and no helmets coasting around the neighborhood, and the company posts links on Facebook to stories about slow rides and “slow bikes,” which implies that these bikes are best for days of leisure on a bike path, perhaps near a beach. So my use of this coaster-brake bike — commuting through busy city traffic on it — is probably against its nature, or least a decision to push it beyond its expected call of duty. I have routinely zipped from a city street onto a concrete path, through mud and grass up onto a sidewalk that leads to a bridge, and then across the bridge in heavy bicycle and pedestrian traffic — sometimes, in driving rain. It’s possible the Kronan is not intended for this.

But the fact remains: It has done well.

I do have some warnings. Riding a Kronan single-speed bicycle, the rider has to physically adjust for conditions rather than being able to switch gears (obvious of any rider riding any single-speed). There is a maximum speed you can achieve on the bike, with which I didn’t find a problem (see anecdote above about coasting past people), though there were a few times in traffic where I wouldn’t have minded going even faster, and was myself passed by riders on multiple-speed bikes.

A more physically demanding situation, however, has occurred when climbing a hill with the wind in my face. The bike is formidable and with the one gear, there is no adjusting for the hill: as a rider, you’re in a situation where you have to be able to just grit it out to climb. Similarly, for those of you who have a bike storage situation that involves stairs (as I do), you should know that you’re not going to be flipping a Kronan happily up onto your shoulder so that you can jauntily hop up the stairs. There is a strength and height component to comfortably carrying this bike up onto a porch or to an upstairs apartment.

With that in mind, and with the Kronan company itself suggesting that these bikes are best for unhurried situations, I heartily endorse the bike for casual riding. It requires minimal maintenance, has excellent storage capacity, and the built-in lights and pump reduce the number of pieces one needs to keep track of before heading out. Every Kronan comes with a rear carrier, front drum brake, kickstand, spin-style bell with logo, individual number plate, the aforementioned dynamo light, and pump and pump holder, all standard. You can also get a front rack to match. Once underway, the Kronan’s size and accoutrements offer a feeling of pleasant momentum. If you hop off that weekend path and ride the bike in rush hour traffic, though, you would do well to remember that you’re riding an Army bike: it is eminently functional, built to last, and can handle any situation you get it into, but it’s on you to provide the muscle.

Either way — on the recreational path or zipping around town — when you dismount the Kronan and lock up, you may be inclined to pause for a moment (or even a bit longer) to look admiringly at the bike — because you’ll have just finished a ride on a Swedish Army bike. The brand has stood the test of time for a reason.