A volcanic eruption indirectly led to the invention of the bicycle.

Draisine made by Karl Baron of Drais, 1817, wood engraving

The bicycle may seem like a symbol of leisure or health today, but its roots lie in disaster. In 1815, Mount Tambora in Indonesia erupted with extraordinary force, blasting ash, gas, dust, and rock high into the atmosphere. (It’s now considered the largest volcanic eruption in recorded history.) The fallout dimmed the sun worldwide, lowering temperatures and devastating harvests. The following year became known as the “year without a summer” — snow fell in July in New England, crops withered in Europe, and famine spread.

The shortages were catastrophic for both people and animals. In Germany, where food prices soared, horses were slaughtered for meat or starved for lack of feed, primarily oats. This sudden scarcity of horsepower — the main mode of transport at the time — spurred a new line of thinking. If animals couldn’t be relied on for transportation, perhaps people could move themselves.

Enter Baron Karl von Drais, a German civil servant and amateur inventor. In 1817, he unveiled his Laufmaschine, or “running machine” — a simple two-wheeled wooden frame that riders straddled and propelled by pushing their feet along the ground. It could travel far faster than walking, even on muddy post-rain roads. Drais demonstrated it with a 50-kilometer ride (about 31 miles) over four hours that proved its practicality.Though it was mocked as a “dandy horse” and was even restricted in some cities, Drais’ design (also known as a “draisine”) encouraged the idea of human-powered transport. Over the decades, innovators added pedals, gears, and chains, transforming his running machine into the modern bicycle.

By the Numbers

Did you know?

Bicycles were once considered a feminist symbol.

In the 1890s, bicycles gave women more than wheels — they gave them freedom. Affordable and practical, bicycles offered women unprecedented mobility at a time when carriages were costly and often required male assistance. Riding a bike meant setting one’s own course, on one’s own schedule. As suffragist Elizabeth Cady Stanton put it, the bicycle inspired women’s “courage, self-respect, [and] self-reliance.” Her ally Susan B. Anthony was even bolder: “I stand and rejoice every time I see a woman ride by on a wheel … the picture of free, untrammeled womanhood.”

The act of cycling also changed what women wore. Heavy skirts and corsets were swapped for lighter outfits and, for some, bloomers — garments that scandalized traditionalists but made movement possible. To many, the sight of women pedaling alone down a city street embodied the “New Woman”: independent, mobile, and modern. Two wheels became a quiet revolution — rolling proof that women could chart their own path.