My Brother’s Bicycle Powered Washing Machine

Last year, my brother, Richard Hewitt, spent some time volunteering in an orphanage in Burundi, Central Africa. He brought back some coffee beans for me and a sack full of inspiration for his Product Design degree at Sheffield Hallam. I woke up this morning and read an excited text to say that his final year project is being reported on all over the world. It really is, I even found a report on a Japanese website. I couldn’t read it, but it looked cool.

My brother’s invented a belt-driven, washing machine tricycle. It’s a simple idea: fit the ‘SpinCycle’ design to the back of a tricycle, load it with dirty clothes, detergent and water, ride around for ten minutes, drain, add rinse water, ride around for another 10 minutes to complete the cycle. If you want to go the extra mile, you can also use it to spin-dry clothes.

This may sound like a long process, so I’ll let Rich take up the story. "One of the tasks I did at the orphanage was to wash around 30 loads of children's clothes by hand. This was extremely time-consuming and I thought 'There must be an easier way than this', and it set off a train of thought that led me to this idea. "They use bikes a lot there so I came up with the idea that it could become a micro-enterprise for people. As well as saving a lot of time, energy and water, people might also be able to make a little bit of money. "In the development stage I looked at making it into a trailer for a bicycle, but it made more sense to create a complete unit. By removing the aesthetic aspects the design could easily be simplified and made cheaper, and in terms of a workable product it's almost there."

Cycling is truly the world’s most beautiful sport, so I love to see ideas that mean a bit of pedaling can create far-reaching benefits for society. If you’re anywhere near Sheffield, today is the last day of his exhibition. You can find out more about the SpinCycle at Sheffield Hallam University's Creative Spark exhibition and if you have any questions for Rich, feel free to contact me via twitter and I’ll put you in touch with him.

Lessons from the bike: protein shakes and family life

These days, there are no grueling interval sessions on the horizon, there isn’t even a structured training programme, but I’d argue that recovery is even more important. A 100km ride now fatigues me as a 160km route once did and I don’t have the luxury of spending the day on the sofa when I return. I actually have to function as a civilised member of the society: husband and father, maker of coffee for wife, domestic chef and occasional nappy changer of young son.

In my late teens and early twenties (only six years ago!), I had the privilege of being a full-time racing cyclist. I wasn’t a pro, but managed to scrape enough money together to concentrate on riding my bike. I appreciated the time, as I was aware it might not last, but I still took some of it for granted. I’ve come to realise how selfish I was able to be. Rolling in after a 5 hour training ride, the rest of the day was my own and no-one cared whether I behaved like a human being. Recovery was about maximising performance tomorrow and in the days to come, whether that was training or racing, and that usually meant a protein shake, a few carbs and an afternoon spent in front of the TV.

How life changes. I’m beginning to ride again for fun and fitness, but now I have a wife and 16 week old baby. Following the end of my cycling career I finished my degree in Sports Science. Ironically, I’m probably in a better position to understand training, eating and recovering appropriately, than I was whilst racing. It’s interesting because, whilst my time spent racing full-time was selfish in some ways, riding my bike has equipped me with endurance and skills that continue to serve me well today, be it in a completely different context. I appreciate the benefits of trying to optimise nutrition even when you don’t have much energy, getting enough sleep, managing time and simply carrying on, even when you’re dog-tired. All good reasons to get out and ride your bike and my excuse for walking round with a protein shake, even though I haven’t pinned on a number since 2005!

The gateway drug to cycling

My dream was to ride Le Tour, but when it became clear that my lungs and legs were not up to the job, I consoled myself with the opportunity to cover two editions of the race for Pezcyclingnews. I had the (some would say) privilege of being close enough to be spattered by Floyd Landis’ sweat as he crossed the line a broken man, following his implosion on Stage 16. I managed to snap a photo, just a face and arm poking into the shot, as he rolled past me and into the arms of his soigneur.

My father - a newcomer to the sport - suggested that Floyd should just attack the next day, to recover his lost time. I scoffed and explained how feats like that were impossible in ‘modern cycling’. On the road to Morzine Floyd made a fool of me, dominating the stage and re-entering the race for the yellow jersey. It’s a great memory, providing I choose to ignore the unpleasant sub-text of the story.

I love the Giro, the Vuelta provides late season fireworks, but nothing can beat the the grandiosity, the drama, the three weeks of gladiatorial battles that make up the Tour de France. Channel 4 coverage of Tour was my gateway drug to cycling. I still get excited when I hear the classic theme tune. Thanks to the internet, you can still enjoy it. Thanks to hindsight, we can now appreciate the fact that, when this clip was filmed, the first face you see probably had blood thick enough to plaster a wall.



The uncertainty of the Tour de France is captivating, when experience lulls the viewer into a false sense of security, unexpected performances can be breathtaking. However, I’m beginning to get a tired of wondering whether the winner of the race will eventually be stripped of his title. Some may say that, should Contador start the race, this year’s edition of the Tour may be run under a cloud of suspicion. I’m not sure. We can’t insulate ourselves from all disappointment, just as we can never mitigate against all risk. I suggest, let’s not let fear of being let down hinder our enjoyment of the event. Come July, I’ll take my chances and allow myself to be captivated again.