Rob PennCritiques

An original approach to looking at trees, forests, and craft. Cozily entertaining.

audio nonfiction (8 hours, read by the author with a British accent) - a man decides to try to use up an entire yew tree and follows the process of selecting, hewing, milling, and creating (relying on lumber professionals and creators who have been making tool handles, wheels, turned bowls, arrows, sports equipment, chair, etc. for many years and who actually know what they're doing, rather than attempting to do himself)

very contemplative as well as comprehensive--if you enjoy woodcraft (and the technical aspects of using this cut of wood vs. that one) this is for you; if you are just curious about the history of handmade things this is also pretty neat; I am enjoying the thoughtfulness of the author's writing style and the sentiment of appreciating trees and wood more than we have been wont to do.½

A fascinating account of the author's use of a single ash tree to make various different objects, through which he discusses the many and varied historical uses of ash trees over time, and visits with many of the folks still using ash wood to make useful objects. The one regrettable thing is a complete lack of photos (at least in the edition I read).½

Brilliant, spellbinding. Fascinating history of bread making down the ages but particularly sour-dough. Full of history, wit and all the agony of bringing bread to birth

I would not have thought a book about the ash tree would be that interesting. It's sort of a long-term human favorite wood due to its properties. It's all around us as tool handles, baseball bats, kitchen implements, sporting gear, trim, hoops - a generic white wood that is both strong and able to bend without snapping. The writing quality is high with a mix of biography, travel, cultural and natural history. There's a ton of interesting stuff here well told. I became so interested in the section about the medieval practice of eating from ash plates and bowls that I found a maker (in France none in the US) and ordered one. Such are the unexpected costs of reading.

Short, sweet, passionate account of a British dude's affair with the bike. He rode around the world when he was younger, and then decided to meet the bike makers, and build himself a custom bespoke bike. Good work.

When you think of the National Trust what comes to mind is the fine mansions houses and grand estates or the swathes of coastline that they are now custodians for. Under their protection is a wide variety of landscapes, from moor to heathland, farmland to mountains, ancient sites and what is the focus of this book, woodlands. In fact 60,000 acres in total on the land that they are responsible for, from ancient woodlands that contain some of the oldest living things in our country to forests that were the playgrounds of royalty.

Sadly woodland cover at just over 12% in the UK is the lowest it has ever been and we have one of the lowest in Europe too with both France and Germany being around 30%, but most are trailing in the wake of Finland as that has over 70% cover. That said, we have some of the oldest lived trees in Europe and the National Trust among others is custodian to some of our finest woodlands.

In this sumptuous coffee table book, Robert Penn tells the history of the woods and forests that the National Trust cares for. The book follows season by season showing the transformation from the skeletal outlines of the trees in winter to the rich colours of autumn. Penn's prose is short and to the point, as he weaves history, folklore, natural history and the future of our woodlands as well as talking about some of our most famous forests in the country as well as the lesser-known ones. into very readable prose. What makes this book though is that it is full of the stunning photographs of woodlands and trees and the other creatures that inhabit some of our most treasured of places.

When people think of making things from wood, the one that springs to mind is oak. But as magnificent as that tree is for buildings, ships and furniture, through the ages people have relied on another tree for tools, household objects, paddles and bats. That tree is ash.

This tree is under threat now from a microscopic fungus that has come from the far east. Penn sets about a challenge of making, or having made as many objects made from a single ash tree. Partly to raise awareness of the trees plight, but also for the satisfaction of seeing a tree made into elegant and beautiful things for him to use. But first he had to find his tree. The genus Fraxinus is common in the northern hemisphere so it shouldn’t be too difficult. He is lucky enough to lease a small woodland, but there was no tree there suitable; fortunately he was to locate a tree with a strong straight trunk and a decent canopy from another local wood. Having felled it, it was taken to the saw mill to be cut into a number of planks of different dimensions, prior to a period of seasoning. This natural drying process is essential to turn a tree into useful timber.

One of the most common uses for ash is tool handles. The experts are a little hazy about putting absolute date on when ash was first used, but it is safe to say that it has been used for several thousand years. The properties of ash make it the perfect material, it is tough, strong and flexible, not too heavy and the very act of handling the wood adds a patina to it making it nicer to handle. One of the last tool manufacturers in UK offer to turn some of his planks into axe handles, and he pays them a visit. In no time at all they are cut to shape, and sanded to the ideal shape. His first objects from that tree.

Ash has numerous uses, and has been used in all forms of transport for years, including cars, buses, aircraft and of course carts. More wood is taken to a wheelwright where he sees flat wood turned into a perfect wheel, that if looked after will long outlive the original tree. Another hunk was taken to be made into bowls, that are now used daily for his breakfast. He visits Austria to have a toboggan made, America to see ash turned into a baseball bat and Ireland to have a hurley created. He commissions a desk to be made, and ends up with chopping boards, tent pegs, spoons, bookmarks, paddles, arrow, dominoes and even a catapult. In total he had seen 45 different objects created and had a total of 126 items. All from one tree. The sawdust and shaving kept him warm too, as nothing was wasted.

More importantly as this tree was coppiced properly when he returned to the stump it was growing again and will produce again.

This is a lovely book to read. Not only does his boundless enthusiasm come across on every page, but he is reminding us of the timeless quality of wood as a material. We learn that these crafts are not completely gone, but there are still a few talented individuals out there with the necessary skills to create practical and beautiful things. It is also a call to everyone to see what the benefits of having a properly managed woods can bring. He has not only got a collection of items that he will use for many years to come, but each time he uses them he has a direct link to the landscape around him.

This is a love story to the bicycle. It's the story of the author having his perfect custom bike made, and visiting each component manufacturer to see how they do what they do. It's also a history of the bicycle, mountain biking, bike culture and the resurgence of the bike in contemporary days. I absolutely loved it, and fell more in love with bicycles and bicycling as a result.

I listened to the audiobook version, and it was excellent in that format.

It seems hard to believe that a book about a man cutting down a tree and getting people to make things out of it would be enthralling and moving, but it is. It expertly taps into some deep human need to have to own things made well out of wood. As I was reading I was lamenting that there was no such ode to our native New Zealand trees, many of them with beautiful hard-wearing timber that doesn't seem to be used or appreciated the way northern hemisphere trees are, with thousands of years of coexistence with people. I'm sending this book straight off to a timber engineer I know who makes his own furniture, and hoping he hasn't read it already.½

This is a gem of a book. Rob Penn has had a lifelong love of trees and wooden artefacts. In 2014 he selected a mature ash tree in a forest and, with the aid of local experts, cut it down with a view to seeing how many useful items he could make, or have made for him, from the wood it yielded. The list of items is astounding. The book is, however, so much more than a simple catalogue of artefacts.

Penn encounters some amazing artisans, all of whom share a deep love for working with wood, and take an immense pride in working to historic methods. Ash is one of our most prevalent trees, and archaeological evidence from around the world suggests that its wood has been used by humans for at least five thousand years. Among its many attractive qualities are its simple abundance, augmented by the fact that it grows very quickly, usually with a very even grain structure. When properly seasoned it also loses more of its natural moisture content that most similar woods, making it lighter than them.

Penn travels the country to visit the specialist workers who make the various items for him. He offers a loving description of their workmanship, and the care and attention that they bring to their respective crafts. He also goes in to the history of the various items he commissions, which allows him to go off at tangents, for example explaining the history of the Irish game of hurling or chronicling the development of the toboggan. One chapter (The Crack of the Bat) sees him visiting America where he has a baseball bat made for him. This is a cue for a potted history of the baseball bat. I can imagine my friends rolling their eyes and smirking as they read that, feeling that a history of the baseball bat was just what they needed to make their lives complete, though I can assure them that this little adjunct was riveting, just as all his other sidebars are.

Penn writes with great clarity but tremendous enthusiasm, and I was left feeling very envious of the various objects he amassed from his single felled tree.

Made me want to get my bike fixed so I can ride it again.

This is a fascinating book for anyone interested in the history of the bicycle OR the current state of the bicycle (spoiler: it's not that different today)! I am a light-to-moderate cycling enthusiast and I found myself unable to put this book down. I also found myself more and more motivated to get out and ride my bike as I began to feel a sort of connectedness to the history of the machine.
On the face of it this book sounds like a guy with money to spare and time on his hands designing his dream bike, and if that were all that it was I would have hated it. But Penn's breadth of knowledge on every aspect of the bicycle makes up the bulk of the book. Each chapter covers one cycle part (wheels, tires, frame, etc), and in this way the reader learns the history of the bicycle part by part. Plus you get to see the culmination of all that history as you meet people working in the industry today. The stasis of the bike, more or less unchanged since the 1890's, has meant that essentially the same knowledge has been passed down from generation to generation of bicycle designers, owners and mechanics. The more I understood this the prouder I felt to be a part of that unending bicycle chain of events. It really emphasizes the global community of cyclists. And it motivated me to finally get out there and learn how to tune up and adjust my own bike, which is something that most casual cyclists know nothing about, I've discovered.
Finally, there is an hour long BBC documentary available on YouTube that follows Penn around as he collects his parts and assembles his perfect bike. I recommend watching this ONLY after reading the book. It cuts out a great deal of the information and focuses more on the people working at these companies and small workshops all around the world and on Penn's personal journey. Basically, without the book to reinforce the documentary it comes across more like the-book-that-could-have-been back at the beginning of this review. However, after reading the book it is a great way to put faces to many of the names that you've come to know over the course of five chapters.

I’m not a hard-core cyclist by any stretch, but I want to be out on my bike more. I have a road bike, and I truly like to ride it. But I know so few people who want to ride with me, and I don’t love hitting our amazing bike trail by myself (mostly safety concerns). Plus I’m really busy these days. Perhaps after the wedding and quitting my job, I can find the time and the friends to take it out some more. My favorite part of riding my bike is that I am cut off from all my technology. I can’t text or check Facebook. I don’t listen to music when I ride. It’s just me and the wind and the bike. It’s liberating. And isn’t that what the bicycle really stands for? Being free.
It’s All About the Bike is about Penn’s own love affair with cycling. This guy is a serious lover of bicycles, and it comes through in his writing. The book has sort of a dual narrative — his quest to build the perfect bike, as well as a history of the bicycle. I found both parts interesting, for different reasons. I hadn’t known much of the history of the bicycle when I started, and felt like I learned a lot. It’s one of the few things that was invented back in the 1880s that is relatively the same today — the materials are different, but the concept is the same. I also thought Penn’s search for the different parts of his bike was enjoyable. I love how he eschewed the new carbon fiber race bikes and built himself a steel bike that could make it around the world (you can weld steel…you can’t weld carbon fiber!). It was really interesting to learn more about the world of custom bikes.
It made me want to get out there and ride more!

Read my full review here: http://letseatgrandpa.com/2013/08/02/book-review-12-its-all-about-the-bike-by-ro...½

As an avid cyclist and former bike mechanic, I enjoyed the read. It didn't blow me away, but I enjoyed the ... ride. I wouldn't think that a non-cyclist would enjoy it, since it's fairly mechanic and gets into the nerdy-gerdy (the way someone who likes bikes would).

Fun for bike nerds; maybe others, too.

A quick and humorous read about a Welshman's overly epic quest to find the perfect bike for his cycling needs. think Bill Bryson on two wheels.

It's All About the Bike is the author expressing his lifelong love affair with the bicycle, pulled together by the thread of having his dream bike custom-built for him. With each chapter he takes on a piece of the bicycle, talking about the history of the part and why he is choosing the specific brands he is. In several cases he visits the factories or workshops where the parts are made. Penn is a traditionalist, liking the solidity and tradition of builders and companies that have been in the business for a long time. There is nothing wrong with that, but to the cycling population there's also nothing particularly surprising or interesting about choosing a steel frame, a Campagnolo Record groupset, a Brooks saddle, and Continental tires. All are reliable and widely agreed to be good. But they are not unique or special in any way--heck, I'm a much less serious cyclist than Penn, and I have a steel bike with Campagnolo components and Continental tires, and tried a Brooks saddle before deciding it wasn't for me. Though there was one thing notably missing from the work, and I'm a bit curious why he didn't talk about pedals.

So I'm not entirely sure who Penn is writing this book for. He talks about the parts without sufficient images for it to be clear to someone who isn't already quite familiar with bikes, so I don't think it would work so well for non-cyclists. I suppose it is probably written for fellow cycling enthusiasts, then. But most of things he says about his bike he is building -- about the importance of good fit, and the component choices he made -- are not exactly going to be surprising to people who love bikes. There are some interesting bits about the history of the bicycle, and one particularly good section when he visits California and talks about the beginnings of mountain biking, but I'm not sure that those alone are sufficiently interesting to make the book worth picking up for another cyclist. Perhaps it is intended to appeal to the cyclist's inner geek, who loves bikes so much they just love talking about them. I could see myself reading a book like this in the middle of the winter when I couldn't be out riding, to give me a little hope that warmer days are coming again. But I still don't think there is enough interesting content to make it worth buying.½

This memoir is all about shopping for and building the perfect bicycle, and reliving one’s glory days as a younger cyclist. I hate reading memoirs about spending money because it makes me think about how much money I don’t have, and how I’ll never afford high-end things. It’s why I don’t read fashion magazines, or even most knitting blogs. The message comes though loud and clear that happiness comes from buying things, and that you deserve new, shiny, expensive things. I couldn’t finish it. The consumerism=happiness message was too much for me.½

What links the 1815 eruption of Mount Tambora, the Repack footpath in Marin County CA and Albert Einstein? To put it another way, just how much can a writer condense into 194 pages? This terrific volume is a jam-packed joy from beginning to end: social history; love letter for an obsession; geek handbook for the nuances of titanium hubs; a eulogy to one of Mankind's greatest inventions. If you ride a bike now, or have fond memories doing so from childhood, there's so much in here to enjoy. Highly recommended.

Without a doubt, Robert Penn is a great writer. However, this book failed to catch my attention due to its highly technical nature. This is not a criticism – if you’re into learning about what every piece of the bicycle is called, what it does and its history, then this is the right book for you. Personally, I would have been more interested in reading a book with more of an emphasis on the author’s travels on his bicycle and less emphasis on the angle of the handlebars, but hey, that’s not what this book is about. I really did enjoy the beginning of the book, when the author delves into the history of the bicycle and its impact on human civilization – definitely fascinating and worth a read just to understand that although bicycles are routinely dismissed today by the average person, they were once a huge step forward in transportation and a BIG DEAL.

One thing that is a criticism, though, is the lack of images in the book. The bulk of this book is devoted to talking about parts of the bike, but it’s hard to understand what the author is describing without images to accompany the words. There a few images scattered here and there, but it’s simply not enough, especially when the author gets nitpicky about the parts he’s discussing. I think I would have found the book more interesting had more things been illustrated for me, because after a while I found it tiring to have to imagine all the parts of the bike in my head, and I wasn’t even sure if I was getting it right.

This book is written by a guy who is building his dream bike. The author jets off to consult with various expert manufacturers, writes a lot about technical details of each piece of his bicycle, and relates more bicycle history than I ever knew existed.
It turns out I am not of the target audience for this book, as I haven't ridden a bicycle since I was a teenager, and if I ever wanted to buy a bike I would probably be satisfied with an off-the-shelf model from Target or something. (The author is spending $5k and having each component made especially for him.) I picked the book up because my husband just got himself a bike for exercise, and because my sister and her new husband just love to ride, so I thought it might be fun to read about that kind of thing.
That probably explains why I found this book exasperatingly presumptuous. I could not imagine spending this much time and money on a bike-riding hobby, heading off on numerous lengthy brag-worthy trips by myself, and leaving my spouse and kids at home (like the author must be doing, since he never mentions the family). Also found the book too full of name-dropping about places the author has pedaled through, but not enough human-interest story.
But if you are custom-building a bike and looking for some advice, this book might be a good place to start... you can skip to the chapter about the specific component you need help with, skim over all the "history" stuff, and go right to the technical details.½

I was very excited when I opened the mailbox and found my new book, All About the Bike: The Pursuit of Happiness on Two Wheels by Robert Penn.

I'm an avid Mountain Biker and sometimes hipster Single Speed rider, but no matter your bike of choice this is a fun read. It will increase your general knowledge of how a bike works and walk you through much of cycling history.

Concise, witty and unapologetic in the minutiae of all things cycling I recommend this book whether you currently have the bike of your dreams, you dream about it at night or you only occasionally ride.

I had no special expectations for the surprising and wonderful All About the Bike: The Pursuit of Happiness on Two Wheels by Robert Penn. Little did I know that, as an active cyclist, I would not resist its charms.

If you are someone who has ever exulted in the joy that comes from a bicycle, and you can follow along as a first-rate bicycle lover goes in pursuit of his own bespoke bike, this book is for you. Penn mixes in the fascinating history of the bicycle, and offers a primer on the mechanical intricacies of this ingenious machine as part of the bargain. None of this reads as didactic instruction; it’s all woven into THE QUEST: Penn’s transcontinental search for the pieces and components of the bike he will ride for the rest of his life.

If this doesn't sound appealing, then get a bike, ride it several thousand miles, and you'll have a different perspective!

The danger in reading this is that, like I did, you will probably contract a terminal case of bike envy!

I knew I was hooked at the end of the prologue:

“The bicycle saves my life every day. If you’ve ever experienced a moment of awe or freedom on a bicycle; if you’ve ever taken flight from sadness to the rhythm of two spinning wheels, or felt the resurgence of hope pedalling to the top of a hill with the dew of effort on your forehead; if you’ve ever wondered, swooping bird-like down a long hill on a bicycle, if the world was standing still; if you have ever, just once, sat on a bicycle with a singing heart and felt like an ordinary human touching the gods, then we share something fundamental. We know it’s all about the bike.”

I know.½

It’s July, so that means there will be lots of cycling at the Cornelius estate. These days there is much less time spent on the saddle and much more time spent on the couch watching the Tour de France. To get ready for the race, I just finished reading It’s All About the Bike by Robert Penn.

The title is a clear stab at Lance Armstrong’s It’s Not About the Bike. But the book is not making a counter-argument, it’s merely a story about Penn’s bike. He was looking to build a custom-made bicycle and, through that process, provide some insight about bicycles, their history, and how they’re made.

Penn is not looking to have the lightest or the fastest bike. He calls those obsessed riders “weight weenies.” The lightest bike is important if your job is getting up a big mountain very fast. Penn is looking for an heirloom bike, custom for him, that will last for decades.

The starting point is a custom frame, meticulously measured and fit to him by Brian Rourke Cycles. Add on a classic drivetrain, a Record groupset from Camagnolo. That powers the wheels hand-built by Gravy using a Royce hub and Continental Grand Prix 4000S tires. Penn will change directions using Cinelli Ram handlebar attached to the bike with a headseat by Chris King that feeds into a Columbus Carve fork. His backside will rest on the Team Pro Saddle from Brooks.

Penn clearly ends up with a beautiful bike and tells a good story along the way. His affection for cycling overflows from the rather short story. I wish he wrote more in the book. It seems that there are lots of untold stories about how he chose the components he did and more ways he could integrate the history of cycling.

If you like bikes, you’ll like this book.

(The publisher provided me with a copy of this book.)