Unlocked | Bicycling

Photo: Lock breaking expert Hal Ruzal tests a chain lock for Bicycling in New York City’s SoHo neighborhood. (Joshua Simpson)

When John Loughlin lowers a cordless angle grinder onto a ­section of a TiGr ­titanium bike lockclamped to a table, it emits the piercing scream of something that has a reason to live. White sparks spray the air and metal whiskers fly­ uncomfortably close to where I stand nearby, cringing. There is the distinct bouquet of burning hair.

Five seconds go by. Then 10. If we were on a city street right now, a small crowd of spectators might have formed a curious semicircle. Which is exactly the point. Assuming any lock can eventually be compromised, this is the most helpful thing it can do: create such a time-­consuming spectacle when it is assaulted as to make a bike not worth stealing. Because too often—as Loughlin demonstrated earlier by snapping a steel U-lock like a candy cane—it’s over in a flash. We’re standing in a garage in New Jersey where blacksmiths worked iron 200 years ago. This is where TiGr locks originated, in Loughlin’s parents’ 18th-century home, where gilt-framed paintings, yawning fireplaces, and green acreage beyond the barn suggest the estate of a retired American president, not an engineering lab.

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