3 minutes reading time
I came across some photos online of feet-forward motorcycles (recumbents like Royce Creasey’s Voyager and Dan Gurney’s Alligator), and it hit me like a kick in the teeth: this design makes total, undeniable sense.
Look at the posture. You aren't straddling a hot engine like a medieval horse rider with your spine taking every pothole directly into your skull. You're sitting in the machine, back supported, legs stretched out, feet reaching the asphalt without tipping over on your tiptoes. It looks bizarre only because we've been brainwashed by a hundred years of bad defaults.
I love this thing. It looks like something that actually belongs on a road built for human beings. I want to buy one right now, except nobody makes them commercially. You can't just walk into a showroom in Tamil Nadu and ask for a feet-forward motorcycle. So the only real option left is to build one. Not today, and probably not next year, but hopefully in a few years I'll pull together enough scrap metal, a donor chassis, and welding time to build one of these.
The physics are almost foolishly superior:
It's not pure perfection, of course:
So why aren't all motorbikes built this way?
Is it simply because the very first motorbikes were literally safety bicycles with single-cylinder engines bolted onto the frame? The bicycle itself was designed to mimic the posture of riding a horse. So for over a century, we've just been pushing forward that same horse-riding geometry out of pure inertia. Factory tooling was set up for diamond frames, riders got used to straddling tanks, and nobody wanted to take the financial risk of selling something that looks "weird."
It's the ultimate example of path dependency overriding basic human ergonomics.
(Note: Years later, I put together a structured business and technical analysis slide deck on commercializing feet-forward EVs in India. See the 2025 presentation entry: Feet-Forward Bikes (Presentation).)
Image Credit: Low recumbent bicycle b.jpg by メルビル, licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0.