A few years ago, I learned to ride a penny-farthing. I was, in fact, briefly in love with penny-farthings. The view was good, the big wheel rolled effortlessly over anything from a pothole to a Golden Retriever, and there was a feeling of accomplishment to having mastered something that was simultaneously like riding a bike, and also not quite like riding a bike.
I made plans to buy one from a guy in the Czech Republic who makes bespoke penny-farthings, and a hipster beard sprang unbidden straight out of my face. But then I realised there would never be an afternoon when I walked to my bike store to select something to ride and thought, “Yep. Today is a penny-farthing day. A couple of hours on the big wheel is what I want.” It would only ever be a novelty.
