When it comes to two-wheeled transport (or fun), my preference usually leans towards the human-powered family of machines, preferably the type intended for off-road use. Something about the combination of simplicity, zero-carbon footprint (if you discount the manufacturing process, that is), and the invocation of sweet memories of the of endless summer days of carefree childhood fun every time I mount my bicycle’s saddle makes the no-motor variant of two-wheeled machines particularly dear to my heart.

I often stop to look at beat-up cargo bikes abundant on Cairo streets, examining the rust patterns on the downtube, squinting at the cracks forming at the welds, admiring the the improvised underfoot actuated brake system (read: no brake system), attempting to guess the function of the various obscure non-cycling related objects affixed to the headtube, seatpost and various other parts of the frame, and marveling at the streetwise ingenuity of the jimmy-rigged cargo rack(s) that often carry loads twice the weight of the bike and rider combined. I will regard with equal mental praise (mixed with a dab of envy, to speak honestly)  the shiny new brand-name road bike with carbon fiber everything, go-faster graphics and a price tag that makes small sedans look cheap in (an unfair) comparison. I like to think of myself as a connoisseur of all flavors and subflavors of two-wheeled machines. My friends just think I am weird.

Given such fondness of cycling, I often scour the Internet in an effort to keep myself current on all things bike-related. I get excited about things like carbon drive systems and derailleur-less crancksets and similar inventions with very clever marketers behind them who come up with catchy brand names and all other manner of of marketing hype that practically put us in a state of consumerist hypnosis that make us happy to dispose of our often not-so-disposable chunks of income to have the latest and greatest to (hopefully) make us happier pedal-spinners. Hey, it makes perfect sense from an economic utility point of view (at least that’s the what I tell myself right before I click “confirm order” on yet another expensive bike part).

So, back to the original subject. It’s amazing how much manufacturers are able to differentiate their products in a market where said product is, essentially, rather simple. The basic mechanics of the bicycle have not changed much since the early bikes, but pretty much everything else did. From exotic materials, to shape-shifting frames, to premium precision components. Hell, even the bolts received some tech love.

But there is only so much manufacturers can differentiate on in standard components without overspending on R&D (and who wants to that in these day’s economy?) or creating something proprietary (which, unless it works really well, often pisses off consumers who want the frame/components to play nice with new components they want to buy at a later stage). With the exception of a few innovators, most bike manufacturers will wait until the big component giants come up with the next big thing. While they wait for that next big thing, they do some pretty amazing stuff with frame designs.

Below is a collection of what I believe to be some of the most beautiful bicycles. Having a special liking to off-road family of bicycles (and more specifically to the genus known as “all-mountain” or “trail” bike), I will start with a few trail assault steeds:

The 2010 Specialized S-Works Enduro Carbon

The two-tone carbon frame has a subdued beauty that oozes class (for a $7200 bike, it should!). The lines in the front triangle resemble something out of a Leonardo DaVinci sketchbook. If I had the money to buy this bike, I probably wouldn’t, because I’d spend more time looking at it than riding it.

The Ibis Mojo

The Moji frame has more curves than Scarlett Johansson’s body. In a thread on the  MTBR forums, someone was complaining that the Mojo “doesn’t have bottle cage mounts”. Dude, who cares about water bottles when you have a frame that looks that good (I know: the skinny fast bastards known as competitive cross country racers)

Next we look at two of the most beautiful (in my humble opinion) road racing bike frame designs around:

The BMC Racemaster

Combining aluminum and carbon fiber with a very innovative double bonding process, the Racemaster is a masterpiece of form and function. Look where the top tube joins the seat tube (a grip-like joint slide over the seattube and is then bonded to the seat tube with a special glue) and where the seat stay joins the seat tube. The attention to detail and tastefully applied graphics make a beautiful even prettier. The whole gestalt of this frame is just amazing.

Kestrel 4000 Ltd

Can you say “fighter jet”? Enough said.

Despite my bias towards motorless two-wheeled vehicles, I do like motorcycles as well and hope to one day buy one. However, given my propensity to do stupid things on mountain bikes, I will probably do stupid things much faster and more frequently on a sport bike, so I will only admire sport bikes from a distance. In a city like Cairo, a sport bike is only a catalyst for disaster. Cruisers, on the other hand, with their laid back riding position and chrome-laden exterior, are much more sanity-inspiring.

There are too many beautiful sport and road bikes out there to be able to choose one as an absolute favorite. Nonetheless, in the extremely unlikely hypothetical situation where I am being held at gunpoint and I absolutely have to choose the most beautiful motorcycle on Earth, I’d probably choose the Zündapp KS 750.

“Zün-who?”, you say? Zündapp is (or rather, was) a German motorcycle manufacturer founded in the early 20th century. The true reason the Germans lost World War II is that Zündapp was building the coolest military bikes around (or perhaps the coolest bikes around, period) and giving them by the hundreds to the German army. Nazi soldiers got too busy playing around with these mean machines that they got too distracted from shooting at the Allied soldiers and ultimately lost the war.

I was only kidding, of course. But you probably figured that out already if you successfully completed middle school.

By the way, I do own a piece of the classic German motorcycle awesomeness that is Zündapp. No, it is not the KS750 pictured above. In fact, it is not a motorbike at all, but it’s close enough species of machines. I, my dear reader, am a proud owner of a Zündapp lawn mower.

The above-pictured rare piece of lawnmower history was acquired in a flea market in Cairo for L.E. 300 and takes close to an hour to start, but that does not take away from the fact that this is a classic, a true collector’s item (some would say a “garbage collector’s item”, but I can’t disagree more). This is actually what originally turned me on to the whole Zündapp motorbike thing. Apparently, they had a side business selling lawnmoers before the company went belly up in the 1980s.

The picture below is from one of their catalogs archived by what I assume to be a big fan of everything Zündapp.

Hot bikini model not included.

I am a sucker for designs that cross the vintage with the futuristic. The Zündapp KS750 pulls that off flawlessly. What’s even more inspiring is that it was a military design, and designs for militarry applications usually have no interest whatsoever in form and aesthetics. In the military, function is everything.

On a separate note, if you’re into custom bikes and happen to have $70,000 idly lying around, you might want to checkout the Confederate line of crazy-looking  custom machines.

This bike uses human babies for fuel.

Until I save up enough for a used Harley-Davidson Iron 883, I’ll stick to riding my trail whip and old but iconic classic German sedan.